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University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses
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LOS ANGELES IN THE CIVIL WAR DECADES, 1850 TO 1868.
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LOS ANGELES IN THE CIVIL WAR DECADES, 1850 TO 1868.
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7 0 - 2 3 ,1 6 9 LEWIS, Albert Lucian, 1917- LOS ANGELES IN THE CIVIL WAR DECADES, 1850 to 1868. University of Southern California, Ph.D., 1970 History, modern University Microfilms, A XEROX Company, Ann Arbor, Michigan COPYRIGHT by Albert Lucian Lewis 1970 THIS DISSERTATION HAS BEEN MICROFILMED EXACTLY AS RECEIVED Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. LOS ANGELES IN THE CIVIL WAR DECADES 1850 to 1868 by Albert Lucian Lewis A Dissertation Presented to the FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY (History) JUNE 1970 I “ Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. UN IVER SITY O F S O U T H E R N C A LIFO R N IA TH E G R A D U A TE SCHOOL. U N IV E R S IT Y PARK LOS A NG ELES, C A L IF O R N IA 9 0 0 0 7 This dissertation, w ritten by ..........Alb ert Luclan.Lewis............. under the direction of h.is... Dissertation Com mittee, and approved by a ll its members, has been presented to and accepted by The G radu ate School, in p a rtia l fu lfillm e n t of require ments of the degree of D O C T O R O F P H IL O S O P H Y D a te ..A *™ :.3 *? .9 .. D IS S E R T A T IO N ^ C O M J Y IIT T E E f l i x L ^ a i . Chairman Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. PREFACE j I | I "More has been written about the Civil War than any other I I j single event in the nation's history," said Oscar Lewis in his j introduction to the "Civil War Number" of the California Historical | ----------- j Society Quarterly, XL (Dec., 1961)„ But, added Benjamin Franklin I Gilbert in his bibliographical essay on "California and the Civil War" (sameQuarterly), national writers have overlooked California, leaving it for state historians to piece together the story and to fit California into proper perspective. Much has been and is still being written by California his torians. Gilbert's essay has given ample evidence of the wide range of subjects covered by the books, articles, and manuscripts dealing with "California and jhe Civil War." However, just as national writers have neglected California and the Pacific Coast in their j concentration on the Eastern aspects of the conflict, so state his- I i torians have failed to develop the story from the point of local communities. Excellent though the treatises may have been, the . general approach has been to tell the "State's Story," or to deal with isolated incidents within the framework of California experiences. | This is not to say, necessarily, that the overall exposition had been lop-sided or inadequate— though in particular instances it is true. Nor, is it an argument that, in the abundance that has been written, local personalities and circumstances have been entirely ii Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. neglected. Rather, it is a suggestion, that through an in-depth study of a special segment of the state, one might gain new per- I ! spectives of what the Civil War meant to the State as a whole. | Because of its peculiar circumstances— ethnic as well as I I geographic— Los Angeles County offers a unique opportunity to see the whole of California as it reacted to the cataclysmic events of t | 1861-1865. Southern in social and political affiliations, it was | the "southern” end of the state as well— the logical staging site for any projects that the Confederates might have launched, either ! to take the state out of the Union, or to invite an invasion from the Old South. Here^ during the months when California had debated its i i proper relationships with the rest of the nation, the question of I : loyalty had been fought out. Which way Los Angeles and the southern i j counties decided to go could have determined the path the whole state would follow. Not only had the county's geographic location been strategic, but its residents had been in a favorable position to implement any policy they had determined. After all, John G. I | Downey, a county resident, had been governor of the state, and had | enjoyed all the power that the office could exert on public policy. Moreover, Albert Sidney Johnston, commander of the United States Army at the San Francisco Presidio, though not a county resident at the time- would soon be one. Filial ties and natural sympathies for Southern "chivalry1 9 would take him there. In these two men had been power sufficient to take the state— if not into the Confederacy— iii Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. | at least into a bloody war of the Missouri and Kentucky experience. In the larger sense, a study of Los Angeles County during the Civil War years should not be a mere recital of events of the immediate conflict. The question of disunion was fundamental, and ' local dilemmas and reactions need to be analysed, Equally important, | however, are other problems and circumstances that arose out of the i , ! conflict. Some were preliminary, antecedent matters that had arisen j I i ! I i as problems in the decade before the firing on Sumter; others were j j 1 1 companion developments to the war Itself. At the same time, the j ; i ! county had experienced other difficulties. Many of these, because j i [ i of their local origin and character, had been peripheral, if not I completely outside of the military struggle that was going on. Thus, while considering the major question of how the county I had decided the question of loyalty, while detailing and analysing I the influence that Los Angeles personalities had had on decision making at Sacramento, while noting the influence of wartime policy on local attitudes and actions, and, while evaluating the effects I i of wartime conditions on local politics and county's economy, | proper consideration must be given to strictly local phenomenon that I really had little to do with the war itself. Moreover, in justice to historical perspective, a study of Los Angeles' experiences during the Civil War cannot be limited to the immediate years of the con flict. Personalities who were leading actors in the drama, and, by their position of power, had been influential factors during the war, had been walking the board since the early Fifties when iv Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. j California and Los Angeles County had come into being. More impor tantly, the very problems that had precipitated disunion had flared ; into prominence during those same early years. Los Angeles County, like the rest of the state, had been a part of that era when the | nation had groaned under the stress of sectionalism, j Therefore, to probe the "why's" and "way's" of Los Angeles County in particular, and of the State of California in general, one needs to go back to 1850, at least. Hence, "Los Angeles in the I I Civil War Decades, 1850 to 1868" is the approach that this study has taken. Here, in the larger perspective that the antecedent years and the immediate postwar experiences will give, may come a deeper insight into what Civil War Los Angeles was really like. • • • Customarily, as writers conclude their prefatory remarks to a study of this kind, a few paragraphs are devoted to giving thanks to those who have been friendly and helpful in the many ways that advisors, colleagues, and librarians can be. This experience has j been no different than others have enjoyed, and the need to express j gratitude is deeply felt, and sincerely expressed, for all the en couragement and invaluable help that has assisted this project to i its completion. However, in this instance, it seems appropriate to I depart a bit from the customary procedure, and, in addition to expressions of personal gratitude, that a few words should be aald about bibliography. v Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. In the beginning of this study, it quickly became apparent that the most valuable source of information would be contemporary, i primary materials. With that in mind, the files of local newspapers were perused to glean information about events, names, and attitudes that the news and editorial columns might give. Subsequently, as the bibliography has suggested, special collections of personal and business papers were searched at the various historical depositories. In addition, bibliographical lists and card catalogues were combed j to find manuscripts, diaries, recollections, and reminiscences that | seemed pertinent. Quite naturally, in this canvass of materials, I ! both published and unpublished, some items proved to be more valuable than others. Some of the collections had been accumulations of the years, unknowingly gathered against the time when researchers would go through them for their historical value. On the other hand, some collectors had worked with their eye on the future, mindful that later generations would look over their shoulder at what they had gathered. | Henry Newmark was another kind of historian. He had written ! (or had caused to be written) from recall, recording that which he could remember of what Los Angeles had been like during the life he had spent there. His memory was prodigious but, like many others who have reminisced about their early experiences, his report suffers from a rambling style despite efforts by editors to organize and classify his material. Even so. his memoirs, published as Sixty Years in Southern California, 1853-1913, are so valuable that J. vi Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. | Gregg Layne has called them "the Pepy's Diary of Los Angeles and the ! tributary domain." If Newmark could be called the "Diarist" of Los Angeles County, then, in the same vein, Judge Benjamin I. Hayes might very ! properly be called the "Historian of Southern California." Coming j to Los Angeles in 1850, he began a legal career which spanned three i decades. An inveterate collector of memorabilia, he had started a scrapbook to entertain his wife who had been ill. After her death, ! : he had continued the project for its historical value and as a be- i quest to his son, Chauncey. Eventually, his collection grew to fill j | one hundred and thirty-eight volumes, now available in the Bancroft i j Library. In addition, he kept copious notes and collected a multi- I j tude of documents and other paraphernalia of history. His notebooks, i unfortunately not now available, were used by Marjorie T. Wolcott to ! publish the Pioneer Notes from the Diaries of Judge Benjamin Hayes. ! | Others, like Hubert H. Bancroft, have compiled scrapbooks I of newspaper clippings, but none compare to the exhaustive coverage i I of the Hayes' scrapbooks. Most of the material, of course, is topical and chronological so that the view is kaleidescopic rather than being comprehensive or definitive. However, because he had collected his ! material from such wide sources, from out-of-county newspapers as well as from the local press, his selections are representative of j journalism throughout the state. Moreover, though a Democrat and a Southerner sympathetic to the Confederacy, he had collected opposi tion opinions as well as comments favorable to his own sympathies. 1 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. He had done this intentionally, for he was aware that he had been living in momentous times. So, besides the wide range of newspaper clippings that dealt with both sides of the "Great Debate," he had j j included all the pertinent documents that he could lay his hands ! upon. Thus, as he had written in his introduction to the volumes j on "Politics in California, 1861-62," he felt confident that "The j | following documents probably exhibit all the different elements in j I the canvass of 1861; certainly the main features of the 'question' | at issue will be found here." j Of all Hayes' work that was consulted for this study, the | collection on state politics, because of its broad coverage, is j probably the best documented. Copies of speeches given by Cali- | fornia representatives to Congress are included, as well as addresses given by delegates to the Sacramento legislature. Also available are speeches (reported in full) that were given by leading political personalities in various places throughout the state. However, the lack of arrangement, poor indexing, and similar cataloguing devices, makes it a difficult work to use. Much better are the volumes on I | Los Angeles County, particularly because of their sequential arrange ment of newspaper comment. The bulk of the material is drawn from county newspapers but Hayes also included items from neighboring San Bernardino and San Diego, as well as from papers up and down the state. Used in conjunction with the volumes on state politics (which lean heavily upon San Francisco papers), the collection gave a needed balance to the study that could have been obtained only by viii Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. ; a more lengthy and exhaustive search of Individual newspaper files Thus, reference to Hayes' scrapbooks has been frequent throughout this study, especially when out-of-county papers were j cited. At times, the reliability of Hayes' selections was questioned ! when clippings had been cut too short and the printed reference to | source and date of publication had been left off. In most instances, j Hayes (or someone else) had penned in the paper's name and date of ! I publication. Enough of these references were tested against the ! originals (in print or in microfilm) so that the annotations may be accepted. In such cases, the primary source was cited in the foot- | notes just as it was when the item had been first read in the origi- I | nal. ! In later years, Hayes had given his collection to Hubert Howe ( j | Bancroft and had helped prepare them in their present form. In addi tion, the judge had rewritten some of his Notes, and had generally as sisted Bancroft in his search for historical miscellanea. Thus, much | of his other work is available in the Bancroft Library at Berkeley. A valuable supplement to the above works, both Newmark's and ! Hayes', is An Historical Sketch of Los Angeles County. California j which Judge Hayes had written in collaboration with Colonel J. J. | Warner and Or. J. P. Kidney. Published in 1876 as a part of the j centennial celebration of the founding of Los Angeles, the work consists of three articles on particular chronological periods of local history. Judge Hayes wrote the middle item, "Los Angeles Fros September 8, 1771 to January, 1847." Dr. Kidney's contribution, ix Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Chapter III, covered the years from 1867 to July 4, 1876. ' With all of these contributions by contemporary observors, plus the multitude of opinions expressed in other private collec tions, diaries, and memoirs, one could not help but enjoy a rich ! experience in historical research. Yet, as the study progressed j through the wide range of primary and seconday material, and a synthesis had begun to emerge, the reader was both impressed and I intrigued by the many faceted problems that the times had produced. | ' The main concern had been "Los Angeles in the Civil War Decades," but other interests had been awakened as a result of the study. i | Collateral issues, peripheral problems, and personalities whose i lives might be explored in greater depth— all of these, and more, | were suggested in the mass of material that remains, for the most part, unexhausted. For the local historian much remains to be done, especially in the rich mine of private collections, like the B. D. Wilson Papers, the Phineas Banning Collection, and, especially, the Hayes and Bancroft scraps. i I But, as in all such experiences, these awakened interests I j will have to await a later time. For now, the concern is defined: i i What was it like in Los Angeles County during the Civil War decades I | when emotion seized hold of the sectional argument and, finally, had ! swept the debate to the field of battle? Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. TABLE OF CONTENTS Page PREFACE........................................................ ii Chapter I "LA REINA" MEETS THE AMERICANS......................... I | II OF MEN, AND POWER, AND POLITICS......................... 32 1 III CALIFORNIA AND THE KANSAS QUESTION..................... 57 I IV POST-SUMTER i WHITHER CALIFORNIA......................... 93 V ETERNAL VIGILANCE— IN A RESTRAINED MANNER..................126 VI DISLOYALTY ON THE HOME FR O N T............................. 165 VII BUSINESS AS USUAL..........................................200 VIII WAR-TIME POLITICS ....................................... 239 IX EPILOGUE..................................................281 APPENDIX I: MAP OF LOS ANGELES COUNTY (1850-1889) .... 301 APPENDIX II: MAP OF LOS ANGELES COUNTY (1850)........... 303 ! BIBLIOGRAPHY ........................................... 305 xi Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER I "LA REINA" MEETS THE AMERICANS One December day in 1850 a coastal schooner, completing a leisurely trip from San Francisco, dropped anchor at the Port of San Pedro. Aboard were passengers and cargo bound for Los Angeles and other points in the southern part of the state, i Among those to come ashore was John Gately Downey, erstwhile l l Forty-Niner, but now a prospective drug merchant in Los Angeles County. | Disembarking, he sought accommodations to complete the last leg of his trip, a twenty-four mile coach ride from San Pedro to Los Angeles.* San Pedro was a dismal looking place at the time. Except for Abel Stearns' hide house and a general store operated by John Temple and David Alexander, only a few fisherman's huts had given any sugges tion of a town. Temple and Alexander were operating a "forwarding 2 | business," but this had not included passengers and their baggage. I I A coach service of sorts was available, maintained by the Sepulveda | 3 I brothers as an accommodation to Los Angeles bound travellers. How ever, there was only one team to be had, and that of wild horses. Downey and his fellow passengers had taken little comfort in the prospects of getting themselves and baggage safely to their destina- 4 tion. Therefore, several of them had walked six miles to the house of a Spanish farmer to hire other teams to get them to town.^ 1 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 2 Instead of a team and wagon, Downey, with Charles L. Ducommun who had arrived in San Pedro on the same schooner, hired a carreta from the farmer. They loaded their goods, Ducommun's kit as a watch maker and Downey's inventory of drugs, and had started for town to gether. Unfortunately, the ox-drawn carreta, with its heavy wooden wheels, was a cumbersome, unwieldy vehicle, hard to manage under the best of circumstances. In the hands of a novice, its peculiarities could be particularly trying, especially with the added burden of stubborn oxen. Whatever the difficulty, the carreta had broken down and "the two pilgrims to the City of the Angels had to finish their journey on foot."*’ It may have been that Ducommun had been on the same schooner, and that he had joined Downey in his trek to town.^ However, years later when Downey had dictated his autobiographical sketch, he did not g mention Ducommun nor the incident with the carreta. Neither, for that matter, did he mention that Dr. James P. McFarland, subsequently his partner in the drug business, had also made the journey by foot 9 from San Pedro when he had arrived just the year before. But he does remember the trek, and the opportunity given him to view the land and ponder the reasons for his coming to California. Recently from Cincinnati, Ohio, John G. Downey was an emigre' from Roscommun County, Ireland, where he was bom the 24th of June, 1827. He came to America in 1842, and settled in Charles County, Maryland. For a year he had attended a Latin school under John Cockran, studying for the priesthood. He gave up school and went to Washington, D.C., where he began to learn the drug business. Of a restless nature, Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. he had moved south to Vicksburg to work briefly with 0. 0. Woodburn; then to Cincinnati where he became a partner with John Darling. When j the gold excitement broke out in 1849, he determined to go to Cali- fornia. His partner had warned him that it was the biggest bubble the world had ever known and would soon burst. Notwithstanding, I Downey had given up his interest in Darling's drugstore, and had set out for California. Leaving Cincinnati, he made the voyage via the isthmus, spend- i | ing some time in New Orleans and Havana on the way. At Panama, Downey and his fellow passengers had enlisted the aid of the American consul, Mr. Caldwell, when the coastal steamer West Point failed to arrive. Caldwell secured an old storeship, the Sarah, and outfitted it for them. After a tortuous eighty-seven days' voyage, they had finally | arrived at the Golden Gate. When he landed, Downey had only ten dollars and a gold watch; not much of a grubstake for a would-be miner. Pawning the watch for sixty dollars, he had gone up river to Sacramento, and on into the gold fields in the Grass Valley region. He tried his hand briefly i j at panning gold but it had been cold, wet work. The original glamor soon faded, especially when he had found no bonanza. Disenchanted, he had returned to San Francisco where he had taken a clerk's job with the Harry Johnson Company, a wholesale drug firm on DuPont Street. One day, while reading a newspaper published in Los Angeles, he had been attracted to the opportunities of the southern part of the state. Advisors had scoffed at the idea, but he was resolved to go there. He knew of a shipment of drugs in the warehouse, held because Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 4 the consignee could not afford the high cost of rent to open a business in San Francisco. Downey bought the invoice at a 20 per cent discount, and had booked passage to San Pedro for himself and cargo. So, here he was, on his way to open a drugstore in Los Angeles.^ As he walked along, he could not help but observe the country that was to be his home. The month was December, and the recent rains had brought forth a bounty of grass and flowers. The whole country was beautiful. Downey was visibly impressed with what he saw, for, as William H. Davis had said in his description of Los Angeles County: The great valley of Los Angeles, I mean from San Fernando north to San Juan Capistrano south, the San Gabriel and Santa Anita and other country . . . east, and to the west Santa Monica, and beyond CwasD , a field almost indescriable Csic ] in abundance of the luxuriant grasses. Hence the resources of the territory for the early business men.** How much did Downey speculate of the future? Did he see those same acres over which he walked, covered with sheep and cattle-»his2 Did he begin planning then how, in three short years, he would acquire the Rancho Los Nietos, and be well on his way as a large landowner, 12 neighbor to Abel Stearns and the wealthy rancheros? Did he think of business and politics, careers that would take him to Sacramento, governor of California in 1861? Did he see himself as an American Don, pioneer banker, and developer of East Los Angeles? What he did see was enough to convince him that "the country was beautiful. I made up 13 my mind to stay." His first sight of the Pueblo, wearied as he was from the frustrations and exertions of the trip, must have given him cause for second thoughts. What he might have expected he did not say, but — — _ Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. reports just the year before had indicated that Los Angeles was the 14 largest town in California. During the walk up from San Pedro, he | had liked what he had seen, and had resolved to stay in the country. But, what he saw upon entering the town was not very encouraging to a young merchant seeking a place of business and a new home. Streets and houses indicated a town, but it was a motley collection of drab, dirty looking adobe structures throughout. Moreover, there were only two 2-story buildings in town; one where the Temple Block stood, and another in Nigger Alley, owned by the Sanchez family. There were not 15 i six rooms in the whole town that had board floors. | The whole town extended a bare three square miles, one section of streets extending lots from Main Street westward for about a mile and a half; then another, around Fort Hill, for about one-half mile. Streets were known by their Spanish and English equivalents; Calle Principal (Main Street), Calle Primera (Spring Street), etc., as presently named, to the eighth, and most westward street, Calle de los Chapulos or Grasshopper StreetHere, obviously, was the beginning of the uncultivated wastelands that extended from the city to the [ Santa Monica bay, an area considered too distant for any purpose except ranching. ^ Travellers to the city generally approached the settlement by Aliso Road, kicking up clouds of dust in summer and wading through 18 a sea of mud in the winter. A "City of Mud" literally, for the construction was almost entirely of adobe; no brick or little wood being used. The drab appearance of low-slung, flat roofed houses— 19 most of them covered with a crude asphaltum mixed from mud and tar— Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 6 was rarely relieved by trees or shrubs. John Temple planted the first pepper trees on Main Street, but not until 1861. What relief there was had come from a thicket of willows in the river bottom near pre sent-day Elysian Park. From there to Ninth Street there were only 20 two trees in evidence. Mud block houses, with their flat-tarred roofs did not please the aesthetic senses of those who ached for a bit of variety and beauty in this sun-baked land of the rancheros. However, what was sacrificed to beauty had been gained in economy and utility. As Horace Bell pointed out: No greater libel was ever perpetrated on a comfortable house than to call one of these old models of cool comfort, one of our first class adobes, a 'hovel.' The writer ... is ready and willing to maintain . . . that one of our old one-story adobes . . . is the most comfortable . . . most enjoyable . . . most admirable places of rural architecture that ever reared itself from the sacred soil ... [it was] the coolest .warmest, cheapest, most earthquake proof house [ ever constructed.] 21 Moreover, Bell said that Los Angeles, at the time of his arrival just two years after Downey had come, "was certainly a nice a looking place. The houses generally looked neat and clean, and were I 22 ■ well white washed." Local citizens like Jonathan Trumbull (Juan J.) Warner had been planting orchards in family lots and along the streets. i j Warner's orange orchard along what is now Sixth and Main Street was I 23 | noted by William H. Workman when he arrived. Other orchards and j vineyards were concentrated in the same area, stretching eastward towards the main zanja (canal) and on both sides of the Los Angeles River. Thus, by 1864, "W.H.S.," a correspondent to a San Francisco newspaper, reporting "A Sea Trip to Los Angeles," could say: Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 7 Los Angeles is a beautiful city three miles square having a tropical appearance. Several blocks have been erected in the business portion of the city, and the adobes left to crumble . . . | It is surrounded by large vineyards and orchards containing a | variety of tropical trees, loaded with golden fruit . . . * Thus, what to Downey, who came trudging across the plain from 25 San Pedro, was a "pock-marked, dirty Mexican" town, was to others 26 a picturesque adobe town, "one of the most pleasant places in the world" where luscious fruits, of many species and unnumbered varieties loaded the trees; gentle breezes came through the bowers; the water rippled musically through the zanjas; delicious odors came from all 27 the fragrant flowers known to the temperate zone. | But to the enterprising business man, climate and habitat is not as significant as people whose appetites and needs, present or created, may provide customers at the cash register. Thus, Downey and all enterprising Yankees who were gathering to Los Angeles, were vitally concerned with the market possibilities of the city and its environs. How many people were there in Los Angeles, city and county? How extensive was the possible market area? Previous to the discovery of gold and the rush of American i | j immigrants into California, the population had been unbelievably small. I Exclusive of Indians, it was "not much over 14,000, or one person to 28 every ten square miles. Approximately 7,000 were native Cali- 29 fornians and 6,000 were Americans from the United States. In 1848, however, a great change commenced. A vast immigration of people from every corner of the globe began pouring into California. By 1850, a scant two years after James Marshall had shown his Mormon carpenters the first specimens of gold, the United States alone had added some Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 8 70,000 inhabitants to California. Continuing through the Fifties, yearly increases pushed the state's population from 92,597 persons, 30 male and female, in 1850, to a total of 379,994 ten years later. Most of the newcomers were from the States, some 232,000 of them, trailing into California by the several routes overland, or voyaging by sea around the Horn or by way of Panama. But, withal, it was a cosmopolitan mixture that had come. Gold seekers came up from Sonora, as they had done in Spanish days; miners from Peru and Chile, adven turers from the Pacific Island of Hawaii and faraway New Zealand, I Chinese from Asia, hard-rock miners from Wales--all and mere came to | add international flavor to the Hispanic-American mixture of the "new" California. Los Angeles and the southern counties felt the affects of this rush to California, but not immediately, nor to the same degree as did the mining regions of the north. Still an agrarian, rural community, devoted to the pastoral pursuits of ranching, viniculture, and sparse farming, it was, economically and politically, a backward region. Though gold had been discovered in Los Angeles County as early as ! 32 j March, 1842, and Abel Stearns had expected "a rich harvest of the 33 precious metal, and many advantages to this place," the discovery had produced only a flurry of excitement during 1842 and 1843. Neither did it bring any significant changes in the "sleepy-hollow" character of life among the rancheros. At its height, Abel Stearns had esti mated in a letter to the Society of Pioneers in San Francisco, the 34 total yield had been only six to eight thousand dollars per annum. The initial rush was soon forgotten and the area drew no attention Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 9 from the Forty-Niners after the drama at Columa. Consequently, the j southern part of the state saw no influx of migration during the gold ! rush days.^ Not only did the area fail to grow immediately, but all during the Fifties--even until after the Civil War was over--its total popu- ! j lation had shown no appreciable gain when compared to the rest of the state. How little it was affected is revealed not only in the con trasting census reports for the significant years, 1850 and 1860, but in the comments by contemporary observors who complained of the i stagnant conditions that had persisted until the postwar years. In 1850, after California had become a state, instructions were given to conduct a canvass of the counties so that pertinent statistics might be included with the Seventh Census of the United States. In Los Angeles County, the census was taken by John R. Evertsen, a local resident appointed as district assistant to the 36 Census Marshal of California. He started his canvass in the city on January 15, 1851, and by working with considerable zeal, but with out much concern for the sabbath, he had completed this portion of his I | task and had been ready to start on the rural areas of the county by January 25, just ten days later. His route first had taken him north to San Pasqual and the neighboring ranchos in the Pasadena area. Working in a northwesterly direction, he had travelled in a tight circle through what is now Garvanza, Glendale, Griffith Park and Hollywood; then through the San Fernando Valley as far as Saugus and Castaic before cutting back through the Santa Monica Canyon to the ranches in the bay area, with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 10 Playa del Reya, present-day Culver City, Palms Station and Inglewood. Continuing south he called at San Pedro and Wilmington, as well as at i settlements in today's Redondo, Long Beach, Downey and San Gabriel Valley. From this point he then ranged eastward into the sparsely populated but extensive territory which, until 1851, had not been included in the original boundaries o Los Angeles County. He in terviewed settlers in the areas now known as Arcadia, Azusa, El Monte and Puenta. From there he had gone on toward Ranchos San Bernardino and Robidoux, and called at settlements that were to become Chino, Pomona and Cucamonga. Working his way back, he verged south to San Juan Capistrano before turning again toward Los Angeles. In El Monte, he stopped again long enough to add the names of the Obed Macey and Samuel Heath families, recent arrivals since his first call in the area. By March 12, Evertsen had completed his canvass and prepared his report. He had gathered his information under seven schedules, reporting names of persons at "numbered" residences, their sex, age, place of origin/birth, occupation, and particulars concerning slaves j and slaveholders in Los Angeles County. This last item, submitted as Schedule II in the original report; was deleted from the final tabula tion that was included in the Seventh Census. California's status as a "free" state had made the report of slaves and slaveholders in compatible with the constitutional prohibition against such practices. 37 Therefore such information had been omitted. The original report had been recorded in pencil, but Evertsen had traced over it with pen and ink before copies had been handed to the County Clerk and forwarded to the Census Marshal. As a result of Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 11 his interviews, the following statistics were reported for the city | and county of Los Angeles. i i In the county, there was a total of 8,329 inhabitants. Of i these, 4,091 were white natives; 2,494 males and 1,597 females. Al most an equal number of "domesticated Indians" lived in the county, E along with forty-five colored persons and two hundred and forty-five I adults from foreign lands. Host of the latter were males (236), while there were fifty-nine females and fifty children. In all, there j |were 518 families contacted by Evertsen. However, because he counted |an equal number of "households," one may question whether his defini- i i tion of a "family" accurately described the circumstances. No dis- j tinction separated in-laws from the primary family or unrelated persons j living at the same address. For example, the three Coronels (Ignacio, I Antonio, and Manuel with their wives and children) were reported as a single family living at "Res. 85;" Benjamin DO Hayes and Joseph L. Brent lived at "Res. 68;" David Alexander, Francis Melius, Adelaide (Mrs. Francis Melius), James H. Lander, Sanford Lyon and Cyrus Lyons, iat "Res. 122." Twenty-nine different family names are listed for i I "Res. 121." Servants and laborers living in the household were in cluded as part of the same "family." Despite its peculiarities in form and style, Evertsen's report ! of Los Angeles City and County serves as a valuable historical i i | document. It gives a picture of a pastoral community strung out | spoke-like from the hub center at the pueblo. At the same time, it gives a view of the geographical area included in the Los Angeles community. This area had varied from time to time, as the county Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. ! boundaries had been first enlarged, then reduced by action of the | I I | state legislature. I | The first instance of change had come in the same year that ; Evertsen had conducted his census— extending the boundaries north and ; south from the Tehachapi range to the San Diego County line near Lake 38 Elsinore; from the Pacific Ocean to the Colorado River. Even with j this statelike size, the county had included only two areas of con centrated settlement. Besides the Pueblo of Los Angeles, there had i | been only the American farming community at El Monte, a settlement made up predominately of immigrants from Texas. The Mormon communities at San Bernardino were not established until September, 1831, after s | Amasa M. Lyman and Ben C. Rich had negotiated for the purchase of ! 39 | Rancho San Bernardino. Wilmington (New San Pedro), with its I j soldiers' barracks and Phineas Banning's freight depots, was still i 40 in the future. It was not founded until 1852. How many more persons were added by these new settlements is not readily discernable even 41 though a new census was taken in 1852. Accurate estimates were made more difficult because, before the next census, San Bernardino i | County had been created (1853), separating its people from Los Angeles. {Even conjecture from the 1860 census does not help much because, be fore then, many of the Mormons had gone back to Utah at the time that Federal troops, under Albert Sidney Johnston, were entering the valley during the "Utah War. Separate figures are not available for El Monte in 1850, but estimates for Los Angeles City vary from Evertsen'8 inconclusive 43 report of 1,610 "Caucasians" to William H. Workman's conjecture of Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 44 2,500, given in his "Memoirs of My Coming to California." More generally accepted, if repetition is any criterion, is the estimate i i given by the Reverend James Woods who came to Los Angeles in the I | autumn of 1854. He remembered that there were about 5,000 persons I ; living in the area, "Four-fifths of these," said Woods, "were Spanish. i The remaining thousand was divided; one-half were Americans and the I t other half were English, Scotch, Irish, German, Dutch, Swiss, French, 45 Italian, Norwegian, Russian and |t>ther j Europeans." Such was Los Angeles when Downey and McFarland had opened 46 | their drugstore on property owned by Benjamin D. Wilson. The I population they had found, as did William H. Workman who had followed 47 ! them in 1854, was of "an intelligent and good class," a congenial I community into which the Americans were quickly assimilated, socially ! as well as politically. Like the American Dons before him, Downey 48 soon learned Spanish and became as fluent as a native. For a man in business, it was essential in the bilingual community which Los Angeles was becoming. Not to be forgotten was its transcendent value in social relations, particularly when shy smiles and friendly glances I from dark eyed senoritas suggested poignant meanings even in casual conversation. The language of love, beautiful in all cultures, is made particularly magical by the lilting phrases peculiar to the Spanish tongue. Thus, like many newcomers to California, before and after 1850, John G. Downey had fallen under the spell of its soft 49 nights and female charmers. He met, fell in love, and courted Dona Rafaela, attractive daughter of Don Rafael Giurado. "A very popular lady, beloved by everyone,” Senora Downey had made a happy Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 14 home for this busy Yankee merchant who had been so eager to make his 50 way among the California rancheros. This union of Interests, personalized in marriages between Yankees and Californios, was characteristic of the relationship that had been developing in Southern California despite the recency of the armed conflict. The aggressive Norte Americano was still the con queror, but he had not been unwelcome. Simpatlco with the Americans, typified in Sonoma by General Mariano Vallejo's cooperation with the Bear Flaggers,at first had suffered a sharp rebuff in Los Angeles, when Lieutenant Archibald H. Gillespie had adopted such an arrogant, intemperate attitude toward the local citizens. The "war" that had I resulted, the Battle of San Pasqual, and all that it portended, might very well have been avoided if more diplomatic measures had been taken 52 by the occupying forces. Nevertheless, battle sores and ruffled feelings soon healed under the balm of quieter days. Mutual respect and community feelings had asserted themselves so that, by 1850, the social relationships between Latin and Yankee had reached a point wherein there had not only been co-mingling in the popular fandangos j but in the world of business and politics as well. Thus, as Enrique Abila had pointed out to Don Andr&s Pico, fellow Angeleno, an affinity between Californios and Americans had developed despite the invasion 53 and occupation. That this comity had existed is revealed as well as anywhere by looking at the lists of elected officials when the city and county governments had been organized in the 1850s. Of the nine officials chosen to govern the county in the first balloting of its citizens Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 15 four of them were native Californians: Agustin Olvera, Judge; Ignacio del Valle, Recorder; Antonio F. Coronel, Assessor; Manuel Garfias, Treasurer.^ These had not been perfunctory selections made to satisfy local prejudices, but had been recognition of the bi-cultural nature of the developing power structure. Though Angelenos never 55 achieved the prominence that natives managed in New Mexico, Spanish speaking citizens had played an active role in politics throughout the troubled Fifties and the decades that followed. A sheriff, county supervisors, city councilmen, judges, mayors, a school superintendent, members of the state assembly and senate, treasurer for the State of California, and United States Marshal for the Los Angeles District — these are typical positions filled by "Prominent Californios," particularly in the years from 1850 to 1875.^ However, California's sudden leap into statehood, it's Ameri canization by the rapid influx of Yankee population, the alienation of the "cow counties" from the t>erth, the cataclysmic struggle over Mexican land grants--all operated to the detriment of the Californios 57 so that their prominence and influence had declined. Even so, their presence in the community had remained significant, though the relationship between the two classes was approaching an amalgam. These were the elite of Los Angeles, the better class Americans and the wealthier Mexican families, who combined in close association to control the community, its social and economic life as well as its 58 political fortunes. Of course, all had not been wine and roses, as in any marriage, cultural or otherwise. Friction between gringo and Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 16 "greaser" had flared up In occasional spats between individuals or when notorious banditos, like Salomon Pico and Joaquin Murletta, 59 seemingly made war on the hated gringos. Murletta'8 grievance reportedly had arisen out of the injustice of his brother's death due to trumped up charges by American settlers. Insult added to his anger, when Murletta was tied to a tree and horsewhipped by his tormentors. Thus, his life of crime had assumed the aura of a 60 righteous vendetta. Popular sentiment toward Murletta, despite his violent crimes against the community, cast him almost in the role of a Robin Hood. For a time, he enjoyed a hide-out at San Gabriel in the home of a cobbler, Clpriano Sandoval. However, when he, or his men, killed i Deputy Sheriff Wilson of Santa Barbara as well as General Joshus H. Bean, popular San Gabrieleno, Los Angeles had been aroused enough to drive him out of the county. Ranging throughout the state, he had attracted enough attention for the legislature to post a $5,000 reward for his capture. Driven to the ground near Tejon Pass by a band of rangers under Captain Harry Love, Murletta had been killed, j For identification purposes, his head, with the hand of one of his chief henchmen, "Three Fingered Jack," was pickled in alcohol and afterwards auctioned off at a sheriff's sale for $36.00.^ With Salomon Pico it had been different. He was a nephew of / / Governor Pio Pico and General Andres Pico. With such good family connections, and because he preyed only upon Americans, he had been protected and almost reverred by a great part of the native popula- 62 tion. In November, 1851, Pico hc.J tried to kill Judge Benjamin I. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. JT Hayes because of a judgment against a native Californian. Hayes had escaped with only a bullet through his hat on this occasion. A second attack had caught the judge as an innocent bystander. J. S. Mallard, Justice of the Peace, had been using Hayes' office during his absence. Mallard, in a case involving Benito Lugo, son of another famous California family, had rendered an unreasonably harsh decision. Angered, Lugo had enlisted the aid of Pico in a typically wild ride past the office, shooting through the lighted window. Neither of the boys had known that Hayes, not Mallard, had been inside. A fortunate | move out of the line of fire had saved Hayes. In neither circumstance jwas anything done by the authorities. Aware of the provocation in each case, Hayes had said simply, "I never took the pains to pro- , . 63 secute . . . More serious to the whole community had been the threatened "revolution" in July, 1856, when vigilante committees had been organized to combat the threatened rioting of the Mexican population of Los Angeles. In the midst of the excitement, Judge Hayes had written to Benjamin D. Wilson, asking him to come to town and use his 64 |"stabilizing influence in [this] time of crises." Wilson's i reputation in the Mexican community where he was known fondly as "Don Benito" suggested that Hayes had had a right to expect a calming affect if Wilson came to the city. However, as Wilson had explained in a letter to his wife, visiting relatives in St. Louis, the situation had deteriorated to such a point that it had been necessary for the Americans to barricade themselves in the jail, fortifying it against the expected attack. A spy had reconnoitered Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 18 the situation for the Americans, but had been badly shot up before he could get back to the safety of the jailhouse. The Mexicans had marched through the town in a threatening manner, but had turned aside to the plaza without attacking the jail. During the night a guard was kept posted, and, for two more days, the town had been in a turmoil of excitement before some arrests hed settled the situation and calm had returned to the community.^ Interestingly enough, this particular crises had developed not so much as a clash between Mexican and American per se, but as a result of the criminal element seizing opportunity in a local cir cumstance. The initial excitement had arisen over the killing of a Mexican, Antonio Ruiz, who had resisted an attachment of his property by William W. Jenkins, deputy constable. Friends of Ruiz had held a meeting at his graveside, whipping up indignation and popular excite- 66 meat which had spread to the lower classes" in the community. In the face of the growing tension, Judge Hayes had ordered Jenkins to jail; then had held a speedy trial. Hoping to allay the threat of violence, Hayes then had prepared an elaborate report for the Spanish language newspaper, El Clamor Publico. However, the criminal element had taken advantage of the general disorder, robbed the house of the parish priest, and took up a position on a hill, menacing the town. What had followed occurred substantially as Wilson had recounted the events to his wife. In a continued effort to preserve peace in the community, vigilante groups had been organized by the local citizens. Thirty- six armed men had come in from El Monte to aid the Los Angeles Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 19 authorities, and a force under Andres Pico had scoured the surrounding 67 hills. This was the type of action that Wilson had deemed necessary to corral the mass of hard characters that had been streaming down from the north in the face of vigilante action in San Francisco. Though there had been divided opinion on the legality of such methods, Wilson had told his wife that his sympathies had been with the vigilantes, for Nothing but the Strong arm of the people united against the corrupt officials can remedy the abuses, . . . in driving out a large portion of these worthless scamps from the county. Wilson had not elaborated on particular cases of corruption nor had he named any individuals who he would have liked to see driven out of the county. Having worked so closely with the Mexican people, particularly with the local Indians, while serving a four-year term as 69 Sub-agent for Indian Affairs in Southern California, he could not have helped but be aware of the problems they and their half-brothers, the Cholos, had suffered under the "Indian slavery" operating in Los Angeles County. That such had existed as late as 1858 has been reported. Reputedly, Francisco Castillo carried trading goods into Lower California where he exchanged them for young Indians, obtained from Chief Iatiniel. Castillo was reported to have made several such 70 trips, selling slaves in Los Angeles. Horace Bell added another facet to the local practice when he told of vineyardists who hired Indian and Cholo labor which was paid, invariably, each Saturday night in aguardiente, a firewater of mean proportions. Thus, by Sunday afternoon, the streets of Los Angeles Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. were a mass of drunken revelers. About sundown, the marshal and his deputies would begin corralling them into Downey Block where they | slept away their drunkenness. Next morning they would be exposed for sale, as slaves for the week. Los Angeles had its slave mart, as well as New Orleans and Constantinople, only the slaves of Los Angeles were sold fifty-two times a year . . . sold for a week, bought up by vine yard men and others at prices from one to three dollars, one third of which was to be paid to the peon at the end of the week [the other two dollars went to the city as bail] , which debt, due for well performed labor would invariably be paid in aguardiente. 1 The peon had not been the only victim of exploitation. The native Californian, especially those caught short at the gambling tables, had been ready marks for the money lenders. This is where John G. Downey had made his first stake— not as an astute druggist j who had parlayed $1,800 worth of stock-in-trade to $30,000 in three ' 72 short years, but in lending money at exhorbitant rates of interest. 73 His going rate had been "5% a month, compounded monthly." It was true that Downey had not been alone in such usurious practices, for, as Harris Newmark pointed out, the interest rates among Los Angeles money lenders sometimes had run from two to twelve and a half per 74 I cent per week! But the firm of McFarland and Downey had seemed i ! particularly assiduous in the practice of lending and demanding land as collateral, then in foreclosing as rapidly as possible. Records in the County Clerk's archives often show them as plaintiffs in foreclosure suits to obtain satisfaction for loaned money.^ How many exploited slaves and mortgaged Californios had been among the enraged rioters who had marched that July day on the Americans at the jail is impossible to say. Whatever the cause of Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 21 their protest, their revolution had failed in the face of armed guards and the determined stand taken by the Americans who had been 76 determined not to be caught asleep. Tranquillity returned, and amity had continued among the citi- zens— at least on the surface. But, how deeply had feelings still run? How often had cries against the gringos echoed the ancient resentments? Tensions remained, and wise heads had to be wary. Especially had this been true when the Civil War had kept North versus South factions at nerve's ends. Aware of the explosive situa- j tion, and the precarious position that Californios even yet had ob tained, Andres Pico had written to Enrique Abila, advising him of the necessity of all to be watchful and loyal.^ In the same spirit, Ulpiano Yndart had warned Ygnaclo del Valle on the occasion of Lin coln's assassination. "This is the time when one (especially Cali fornios) must be very circumspect--be quiet; do not become Involved 78 in the partisan strife that is sure to erupt." No difficulties had developed in either instance. In fact, native Californians had helped assuage past wounds, and stifled fears (that the Mexicans j would rise again) by actively supporting the war. Following Major Mariano Vallejo's offer to raise a volunteer force, Mexicans and 79 Californios had been recruited to serve in the Union Army. In Southern California, Jose7 Antonio Sanchez had been the rallying point around which Los Angeles County Californios had 80 gathered. To Union sympathizers, their presence in the army had represented an example of the simpatico that had developed through the years. Nevertheless, there had been other reasons for their Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 22 having joined up. Lure of the soldiers' life, sweetened by the generous bounties that had been offered to all recruits, certainly | I had been an appealing reason. Yet one may wonder, particularly in I the light of Henry Cerruti's analysis of the situation. He had linked I |Vallejo's patriotism to the long smouldering hatred toward the Bear J | Flaggers who had stripped him of his lands and cattle. To him, the |Civil War had offered a real opportunity to strike back at the I I |"hated Southern gringo," for The persons who were foremost in robbing and persecuting Major Vallejo were citizens of Missouri and Kentucky, he never forgot it, so when the War of Secession broke out, he . . . ; offered governor Stanford his services, and requested permis sion to enlist five hundred native Californians mounted on | native ponies . . . his offer having been duly accepted, he | sent runners to towns where his countrymen mostly congregate ; and in six days had the five hundred men ready to take the field . . . Vallejo and his troops had been ordered to Arizona but the fall of Richmond had precluded further need of California Volunteers. Vallejo had been beside himself with disappointment, according to Cerruti. "1 have often heard the Major curse the ill luck that [had] 82 placed a barrier between him and his enemies." How general had been such sentiments is hard to gauge. No ! evidence has been noted to suggest that similar attitudes had been j | prevalent in the southland. The only incident that caused any degree i of excitement locally had occurred in June, 1863. Los Angeles Mexicans I and native Californians, wishing to celebrate a victory by the Liberals against the Maxmillian invaders at Puebla, Mexico, had gathered on a i j hill just out8ide of the city. A gang of twenty-five Frenchmen, in a iwild rush up the hill, had challenged the Mexicans. Fortunately, in- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 23 stead of mayhem, the challengers had threatened the Mexicans only by i singing patriotic songs. An editorial sigh of relief had echoed the ( common feeling in the community«-Anglo, French, and native Californian 83 alike. I I Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 24 j NOTES ^Hubert H. Bancroft, History of the Life of John G. Downey, A Character Study (San Francisco, 1889), p. 5. Hereafter cited as Bancroft, Downey. 2 J. J . Warner, B. I. Hayes, J. P. Widney, An Historical Sketch of Los Angeles County, California (Los Angeles, 1936; reprint of original edition, 1876), p. 102. Hereafter cited as Warner, Hayes, or Widney, Sketch of Los Angeles. j "^Marjorie Krythe, Port Admiral— Phineas Banning, 1830-1885 j (San Francisco, 1937), p. 35. Hereafter cited as Krythe, Banning. i 4 I John G. Downey, Dictated Autobiography, Bancroft Collection. Hereafter cited as Downey, Autobiography. ^D. R. Sessions, "John G. Downey," MS sketch bearing Downey's signature, Bancroft Collection. Hereafter cited as Sessions, "Downey." ^Harris Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, 1853- 1913, ed. by M. H. and M. R. Newmark (3rd ed. , New York, 1930), p. 68. Hereafter cited as Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California. ^Downey, Autobiography. Ducommun had come to California in 1849, and to Los Angeles in October the same year. He had obtained work as a watchmaker, but had not opened his own shop until 1851. Customarily, he had spent several months in Northern California, working in the gold fields. These conditions suggest that he had been returning with equipment to start his own jewelry business. See J. M. Guinn, Historical and Biographical Record of Los Angeles and Vicinity (Chicago, 1907), p. 465. Hereafter cited as Guinn, Record of Los Angeles. g Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 84. 9 Sessions, "Downey." Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 107, said that McFarland had come to Los Angeles in 1852, but R. Lambert's Statistical Chart of . . . The Fourth Session of the Legislature (1853), Bancroft Library, suggests that he had come earlier. ^Downey, Autobiography. **William H. Davis Collection, Huntington Library. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 25 12 John G. Downey, scraps of Biographical Sketch, Bancroft Library. 13 Downey, Autobiography. 14 John S. Hittell, Bancroft’s Pacific Coast Guide Book (San Francisco, 1882), p. 137. Hereafter cited as Hittell, Guide Book. ^Downey, Autobiography *^Los Angeles was first surveyed by Lt. E. 0. C. Ord. His original map, Plan de la Ciudad de Los Angeles, is in the archives of the City Clerk. A tracing (made for surveyor George Hanson who added the names of the owners of small farms, vineyards, etc.,) is at the Huntington Library. Other copies are available: one at Title and Trust Co., Los Angeles, and facsimilies in the Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly. XVII (Dec., 1935), following an article by J. Gregg Layne, pp. 139-142. The accuracy of Ord's map is ques tioned by W. W. Robinson, "Story of Ord's Survey," same Quarterly, XIX (Sept.-Dec., 1937), 121-131. Cf. W. W. Robinson, Maps of Los Angeles. From Ord's Survey of 1849 to the End of the Boom of the Eighties (Los Angeles, 1966). ^William H. Workman, "Memoirs of My Coming To California," Annual Report to the Los Angeles County Pioneers of Southern California, 1908-09 (Los Angeles, 1909), p. 9. Hereafter cited as Workman, "Memoirs." 18 J. Gregg Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, 1769-1861 (San Francisco, 1935), pp. 48-49. Hereafter cited as Layne, Annals of Los Angeles. 19 J. M. Guinn, "Los Angeles in the Adobe Days," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California and Pioneer Register, IV (1899), 49-53, gave a vivid description of adobe construction and the use of asphaltum for roofing. 20 Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, pp. 48-49. 21 Horace Bell, Reminiscences of a Ranger (Santa Barbara, 1927), p. 199. Bell has to be taken with a grain of salt— sometimes a whole pound— he is so prone to exaggerate. But, in this instance, his opinion is verified by others so that his testimony is acceptable. Cf. "First Trip to Los Angeles," Wilmington Journal. April 8, 1865; also Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 113, 22 Horace Bell, "Reminiscences of a Ranger of Early Times in Southern California; Clippings from the Los Angeles Morning Republican" Bancroft Collection. Some items in this collection vary from the book version (1927). Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 26 23 Laurence L. Hill, La Reina— Los Angeles in Three Centuries (Los Angeles, 1929), pp. 20-23. Hereafter cited as Hill, La Reina. ^"W.H.S.," April 25, 1864, Bancroft Scraps, Vol. 1, p. 377. 25 Downey, Autobiography. ^Workman, "Memoirs," p. 9. 27 John S. Hittell, Resources of California (5th ed., San Francisco, 1869), p. 408. See also, Hittell, Guide Book, pp. 136-137. 28 Robert G. Cleland and 0. Hardy, March of Industry (Los Angeles, 1929), p. 35. See also Doris M. Wright, "The Making of Cosmopolitan California, An Analysis of Immigration, 1848-1870," California Historical Society Quarterly XIX (Dec., 1940), 333, wherein she suggests that "estimates of the Indian population of California are at best highly speculative; another authority, C. Hart Merriam, has estimated that by 1849 there were fewer than 100,000. Cf. A. L. Kroeber, Handbook of the Indians of California (Washington, D.C., 1925), p. 891. OQ Hubert H. Bancroft, History of California (7 vols., San Francisco, 1884-90), VI, 2-3. Hereafter cited as Bancroft, History of California. 30 Joseph C. G. Kennedy, Population of the United States in 1860 . . . The Eighth Census . . . (Washington. D.C., 1864), p. 28. Hereafter cited as Kennedy, Eighth Census. ^Doris M. Wright, "The Making of Cosmopolitan California . , . California Historical Society Quarterly, XIX (Dec., 1940), 333-342. 32 Rev. Eugene Surgranes, C.M.F., in the Los Angeles County 1 Pioneer Society Historical Record and Souvenir (Los Angeles, 1923), j pp. 43-47, has given some different interpretations of the discovery : and it8 significance to the wealthy rancheros. Other accounts that substantiated Stearns' expectations include such as: Letter, Stearns to Peirce & Brewer, dated Los Angeles, April 25, 1842, Steams-Gaffey Collection, Huntington Library, in which he reported the discovery of "a mine of gold about twelve leagues from this place which bids to be verry CsicJ rich ..." Warner, Sketch of Los Angeles, pp. 18-20; 36-39, gave a contemporary's account, with added documentary evidence from Steam. Hill, La Reina, p. 35, has a photography of the monument at the discovery site. Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, pp. 30-32, has another quick summary. 33 Stearns to Peirce & Brewer. Steams-Gaffey Collection. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 27 34 Stearns to Louis R. Lull, July 8, 1867, as reported by Warner in Sketch of Los Angeles, pp. 36-37. 35 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 95, estimated that in 1855 about $60,000 worth of gold was mined in the county, but that this activity had still been minor to Southern California's major industry— cattle and sheep. 36 Description and analysis of the first census in Los Angeles County is from M. H. and M. R. Newmark, Census of the City and County of Los Angeles, California for the year 1850 (Los Angeles, 1929). Hereafter cited as Newmark, Census of Los Angeles, 1850. This printed copy with editorial comments is from the original county document discovered accidentally and rescued from a trash fire by Cecil 3. DeMille who turned it over to the Southwest Museum. 37 According to Hector Allict, Director of the Southwest Museum who had been invited by the Newmarks to write an introduction to the Census of Los Angeles. Schedule II was deleted by the Secretary of Interior who had exercised a personal discretion allowed by Con gress. Newmark, Census of Los Angeles. 1850, p. 18. 38 See Appendix I and II which outline changes in the county boundaries. Pertinent references include H. W. Slavln, History of the County of Los Angeles (Los Angeles, 1938); Owen C. Coy, Cali fornia County Boundaries (Berkeley, 1923), pp. 140-156; Owen C. Coy, The Genesis of California Counties (Berkeley, 1923). 39 Andrew Jensen, Comp., Church Chronology, A Record of Im portant Events Pertaining to the History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (2nd ed., Salt Lake City, 1899), pp. 57-60. 40 Phineas Banning, "Settlement of Wilmington," prepared by Edward P. Newkirk (San Francisco, 1883), California MSS, Bancroft Library; also Lionel A. Sheldon, "Biographical Sketch of Phineas Banning," Bancroft Collection, and Krythe, Banning, pp. 77-85. 41 Herbert I. Priestly, quoted by Newmark, Census of Los Angeles 1850, p. 20n. The addenda was appended to the records published in DeBow's Seventh Census of the United States and Appendix (Washington, D.C., 1853), xcix. Though the form of the 1852 addenda was somewhat different, the figures given, in the opinion of the Newmarks, con formed to Evertsen's manuscript. 42 Andrew L. Neff, History of Utah, 1857 to 1869 (Salt Lake City, 1940), p. 223. 43 Newmark, Census of Los Angeles, 1850, p. 115. 44 Workman, "Memoirs," p. 9. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 28 45 Rev. James Woods, Recollection of Pioneer Work tn California (San Francisco, 1877), pp. 197ff. Hereafter, cited as Wood, Recollec tion. Varied estimates seem to relate to the changing size of the county. Hence, Guinn, Record of Los Angeles, p. 181, gave "official figures" that do not correspond to either Workman's or Wood's eStllBAt68 • "Los Angeles City: 1850--1,610; 1860— 4,399 Los Angeles County: 1850— 3,530; 1860— 11,333" Guinn agreed with Kennedy's Eighth Census for the county (11,333), but varied from his total given the city— 4,385: White, 3,854; Free Colored, 66; Indians, 446; Half-breeds, 10; Asiatics, 9. In later years, the Los Angeles News had reported the population with little change from Wood's estimates: January 15, 1864, "fLos Angeles] claims five thousand inhabitants;" August 18, 1868, the population was "about the same" as 1850. 46 Downey, Autobiography. 47 Workman, "Memoirs," p. 9. 48 Sessions, "Downey." 49 A partial list of "The Yankee Dons" married to local senoritas is given by Hill, La Reina, pp. 20-23: John Temple to Rafaela Cota; Abel Stearns to Arcadia Bandlni; Hugo Reid to Victoria, daughter of the chief of the Gabrielenos Indians; Don Benito Wilson to Ramona Yorba; and Stephen C. Foster to Maria Merced, daughter of Don Antonio Maria Lugo. Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, pp. 62-64, added the names of Jose Mascarel who married an Indian woman, and Ramon Valdez, another Frenchman, married to Senorita Valdez. 50 Bancroft, Downey, p. 5. ^Irving Stone, Men To Match My Mountains (New York, 1856), pp. 69ff., suggested that Vallejo's cooperation had been contingent upon promised protection to Californio life and property. Cf. Robert Glass Cleland, History of California: American Period (New York, 1922), pp. 201ff. Hereafter cited as Cleland, History of California: Ameri can Period. Of interest also is George Tay, "Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo and Sonoma— A Biography and a History," California Historical Society Quarterly, XVI (June, 1937), 99-119; (Sept., 1937), 216-255; (Dec., 1937), 348-372; XVII; (Mar., 1938), 50-73; (June, 1938), 141- 167; (Sept., 1938), 219-242. 52 Edward F. Beale, "Beale's Statement," Bancroft Library. Contemporary accounts include Antonio F. Coronel, "Cosas de Cali fornia," and Stephen C. Foster, "Angeles from '48 to '49," Cali fornia MS Bancroft Library, and J. J. Warner in Sketch of Los Angeles, P. 32. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 29 53 Enrique Abila to Don Antonio Pico, October 18, 1860, Coronel Collection, Los Angeles County Museum of Natural History | Library. i 54 Petition of newly elected officers to Peter K. Burnett, Governor of California. Photo facsimile of document owned by Mrs. Virginia Pavelka, made in April, 1963, MS Collection, Huntington Library. "^Leonard Pitt, Decline of the Californios. A Social History ! of the Spanish-Speaking Californians. 1846-1890 (Berkeley, 1968), p. 131. Hereafter cited as Pitt, Decline of the Californios. 56 Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, pp. 64-65. Cf. Guinn, Record of Los Angeles. pp. 161ff; Marjorie T. Wolcott, ed., Pioneer Notes From the Diaries of Judge Benjamin Hayes, 1849-1875 (Los Angeles, 1929), pp. 186-187, hereafter cited as Hayes, Pioneer Notes; Warner, j Hayes, and Widney, Sketch of Los Angeles, pp. 59ff; Newmark, Sixty j Years in Southern California, pp. 97-101, 120; Pitt, Decline of the | Californios, pp. 130-147. 57 Ibid., p. 131. 58 Cleland, History of California: American Period, p. 314. 59 Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, pp. 65-66. ^Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 58. ^Cleland, History of California; American Period, pp. 316- 317. Love's trophies were exhibited in San Francisco until lost in the fire of 1906. Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, p. 68. However, Los Angeles questioned whether Murietta had really been killed, and had organized its own Joaquin hunting rangers. Furthermore, myth makers had made him a collective personality guilty of a multitude of crimes. Even so, when Love brought his trophies in, crime in the | county had subsided. Pitt, Decline of the Californios, pp. 80-81. i 62 Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, pp. 65-66. 63 Hayes, Pioneer Notes, pp. 75-81. ^B. D. Wilson to Margaret Wilson, Lake Vineyard QLos Angeles^, July 20, 1856, Wilson Papers, Huntington Library. 65Ibid., Aug. 2, 1856. 66 Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 108. Cf. Hayes Scrapbooks, Vol. 43, Item 584, Cleland1s account, History of California: American Period, p. 319, is more critical of Jenkins. Variance in reporting illustrates Hayes' tendency to soft pedal the account in his memoirs. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 30 Later, he reported that Jenkins vas "respectably connected at Los Angeles," and that "many of the population of Spanish descent have now forgiven him." Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 204. ^Cleland, History of California: American Period, p. 314. 68 B. D. Wilson to Margaret Wilson, August 2, 1836, Wilson Papers. 69 See Certificate of Appointment by Millard Fillmore, September 6, 1852, Wilson Papers. Hayes wrote to Sen. D. R. Atchison expressing confidence in Wilson, January 14, 1853, Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 39, Item 121. See also Los Angeles Star, Oct. 16, 1852. For a report of his service, see The Indians of Southern California, B. D. Wilson's Report to Edward F. Beale, U.S. Superintendent of Indian Affairs (in the handwriting of B. I. Hayes), Bancroft MS. Wilson's report was published first in the Los Angeles Star, beginning August 1, 1868, and subsequently in John W. Caughey, ed., The Indians of Southern California (San Marino, 1952). ^Bancroft, History of California, VI, 716-717. ^Horace Bell, "Reminiscences of a Ranger . . . ," Bancroft MS. Continued Angeleno interest in such indenture is reflected in a bill to "apprentice Indians," a measure which Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 109, said had contributed to Downey s political death. Cf. Clyde A. Duniway, "Slavery in California after 1848," American Historical Association Annual Reports. I (1905), 243-248. 72 Downey, Autobiography. 73 Los Angeles Herald, April 13, 1879. A copy is available in the San Francisco Post, April, 1869, Bancroft Scraps, Vol. 30, p. 90. 74 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 130. 75 Plaintiff's Index, District Court, County of Los Angeles, 1850-1865, Vol. 1, 1855, gives a typical listing of cases in which McFarland and Downey were plaintiffs in civil suits. This is the way that McFarland and Downey had obtained Los Nietos Tract, according to the newspaper account, Los Angeles Herald. April 13, 1879. An English man named Carpenter had borrowed $500 to pay a gambling debt. In six years the debt had swollen to $102,000. The mortgagees had foreclosed, and then "bought" Los Nietos for $60,000, with a personal judgment in their favor for the balance due. A similar story is told by Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 130, indicating that such usury was a common practice. He is careful not to name the lender "whose family is still prominent in California," but he told of the loan of $200 at 12% per cent interest, a debt which eventually reached $22,000. The mortgage had been foreclosed and the lender "thus ingloriously came into the possession of a magnificent property." Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 31 76 B. D. Wilson to Margaret Wilson, August 2, 1856, Wilson Papers. ^Andres Pico to Enrique Abila, Sacramento, February 16, 1861, Del Valle Collection. 78 Paraphrased from the Spanish: Ulpiano Yndart to Ygnacio del Valle, Los Cerritos CLong Beach ], April 10, 1865. Ibid. 7 0 Henry Ceruti, "Ramblings in California," Bancroft MS. 80 Los Angeles News, January 13, 1864. ^Cerruti, "Ramblings in California," 82 Ibid. Salvador Vallejo had not been as embittered, but had served the Union as the best defense against French aggression from Mexico. Pitt, Decline of the Californios, pp. 23-44. 83 San Francisco Daily Alta California. June 10, 1863, hereafter cited as Alta California. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER II j OF MEN, AND POWER, AND POLITICS When Dr. James P. McFarland and John G. Downey opened for business in 1851, theirs had been the only drugstore in the south land, between San Francisco and San Diego.^ Singular as this may i |appear on the surface, their position had not been especially unique, for there were, at the time, very few business establishments in the I whole area. As far as Los Angeles, the pueblo and its immediate i j environs, there were only a handful of stores, no more than a dozen I I and a half at the most. The majority of these were congregated in i j and around the plaza, and a few hundred yards to the south, east and 2 north. J. D. Landry had a store in Nigger Alley west of the plaza, |but, as Harris Newmark reported, this section had been known generally | for its gambling houses, saloons, and other establishments of a 3 'questionable nature. The more respectable location had been Commercial Street and the adjoining lots on Los Angeles and Main streets. It was in this area that Charles L. Ducommun, Swiss watchmaker, had had his jewelry store. Close by, Ozra Childs had been operating a tin shop in part nership with J. D. Hicks, while John Gollyer had been busy with his smithy and wagon shop. A dry goods store, run by Samuel G. Arbuckle had offered yardage and bolt cloth to prospective customers, and, in the same area, there were two grocery stores, run by John Jones and 32 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 33 John Behr. These, besides the firm of McFarland and Downey, druggists, had been the "specialty" shops of Los Angeles. i | A few smaller shops, mostly of the "bread and milk" variety, were scattered throughout the town. However, general merchandising had been the main interest. This was especially true of the older | | establishments that had been operating since Don Juan Temple and John Rice had opened the first general merchandizing store as early as 1827. David H. Alexander and Francis Melius had begun their compe- I ting firm before the American period had opened, bringing goods around Cape Horn and exchanging them for hides and tallow. But these had not been the only firms in operation. Besides Temple and Rice, Abel Stearns, Benjamin D. Wilson and John Schumacher each had opened general merchandise outlets and were competing for the trade of the area. However, Alexander and Melius had enjoyed a relative advantage in the beginning because of their connection with the San Francisco firm of 4 Melius and Howard. Not only had there been few business houses when Downey had come to Los Angeles, but, relatively speaking, there had been even j fewer Americans, per se. Of the total population that Evertsen had reported, only one hundred and forty-three of these were Americans, emigres from states east of the Rockies. Most were either bachelors or men who had come to California ahead of their wives and families.^ Even these, small though the number is, was a great improvement over the American population at the beginning of the decade. At that time, there had been only three American families living in Los Angeles--American in the sense that both husband and wife were state Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 34 side immigrants. These were the families of John G. Nichols (New York), Joseph S. Mallard (Vermont), and Louis [lewis3 Granger (Ohio).** But, 1850 was the "Year of Years." "This wonderful year saw the arrival of more men of consequence than any other year had yet seen."^ Not only had Downey come, but so had other merchants, and the business community had begun a decided change. Dr. Obed Macy, physi cian more interested in hotel keeping than in the practice of medicine, had settled briefly in El Monte but moved soon to Los Angeles. Here, j in 1851, he had purchased the Bella Union Hotel to which he added the g Alameda Baths as a service to the travelling public. From France came Edouard Naud to start a pastry bakery and other enterprises. He constructed the first modern warehouse in Los Angeles, a building reported still standing in 1934. Commercially manufactured soap, the first to be offered to the Los Angeles market, was sold by Arthur 9 McKenzie Dodson, also an 1850 arrival. Besides merchants, agriculturalists like Mathew Keller, and lawyers too, had come in Layne's "Year of Years." Keller, known j familiarly as "Don Mateo," had come up to California from Mexico, a I well-educated, talented Irishman who had quickly acquired extensive vineyards east of the city. Eventually his holdings, known as the Rindge ranch, had stretched along the coast from Los Angeles to Ventura. An energetic experimentor in irrigation and viniculture, Keller's influence had not only been local but was state-wide as well. He was often heard as a contributor of articles and as a speaker on advanced agricultural methods which would make better use of Cali- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 35 fornia's native resources: land, water, and climate.The extent of his influence is seen not only in the popularity of his wines, in I | California and in the east, but in the general expansion of viniculture as a major industry in Los Angeles County. Through his efforts, and the expanded activities of other wine merchants like Benjamin D. Wilson S 11 j (Lake Vineyard), local vineyardists had developed over twenty-five ! hundred acres of grapevines. By 1867, the total investment in the county was $1,000,000 while the annual yield had brought nearly two million gallons of wine to the market. Valued at thirty cents a | gallon, this meant an added $357,000 income to the county's growing | 12 j economy. Significant though their activities had been, agriculturist and merchant alike, no less important were "newcomer" lawyers to the changing personality and character of "La Pueblo de Los Angeles." Often the most vocal members of the community, the lawyer class had moved quickly and energetically into the local establishment, contribu ting substantially to the growth and significance of the American influence. Theirs had been a concern that was to facilitate the shift { in the power structure, already evident since the days of the conquest, i that saw the affairs of business and state fall more and more into the hands of the Americans. Thus, one sees the interest expressed by Benjamin I. Hayes, overland immigrant from Missouri, in the quick organization of the city and county governments in 1850. Writing to Peter H. Burnett, governor of California, Hayes had appealed for whatever help that could be given to assist the training of persons newly elected to Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 36 county offices. His request for help had reflected his own concern for the difficulties peculiar to the time of transition— from lacka daisical attitudes toward governmental procedure, common to the Land of Manana, to the pattern of ordered concern for structured government according to American design. Therefore, he had written: A great deal of anxiety is felt here to get this county organized at an early period, and by their request, 1 enclose a representation of the officers elect in regard to the pres ent difficulties they labor under. The Judge of the court [Agu8tin Olvera] , and three others [Manuel Garfias, Treasurer, Antonio F. Coronel, Assessor, and Ygnacio del Valle, Recorder] cannot speak a word of English, and this subject being new to ; them, and so completely out of the line of their past life, they feel a sort of timidity in commencing operations which can be removed only by an authoritative explanation of their duties . . . *3 What instructions had been sent is not apparent from Hayes' later comments about the experience. But, in the course of several months, the steamers had brought him copies of the acts of the legislature. These he had laborously translated into Spanish which, as he reported, "I could read very well but could not speak." His translations were reviewed by Don Antonio F. Coronel, or other persons occasionally, to correct idiomatic errors. In this way the Californioa i | had been able to post themselves on their duties, and, in Hayes' 14 opinion, soon made as good officers as the county ever had had. Language difficulties had persisted, not only because Judge Olvera had not been able to speak English, but because of the bilingual nature of cases that came before the court. It was decided that all business in the court would be conducted in both English and Spanish for the benefit of the litigants. Two interpretors, Jonathan R. Scott and Louis Robidoux, were appointed to assist the courtbut Judge Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 37 Olvera had rapidly acquired a knowledge of English so had been able 16 to perform his duties with dispatch. Hayes' interest in local government had been just one of his concerns when he had arrived in Los Angeles on February 4, 1850. He also had to establish himself in his profession and to prepare the way for his family to follow him to California. To this end, he opened a law office with Jonathan R. Scott, also an overland immigrant who had come to Los Angeles just a few weeks after Hayes.Hardly had they gotten their partnership established, however, when both Hayes and Scott had become deeply Immersed in the affairs of state, as already indicated. First had come a commission from Governor I 18 ! Burnett, appointing Hayes a notary public. Then, less than two months later, when the first county election had been held on April 1, 19 1850, Hayes had been elected county attorney, a position peculiar to 20 the law which also provided for a district attorney. Subsequently, when an act of the legislature had enabled the City of Los Angeles to incorporate, April 4, 1850, Hayes had also been elected city attorney ! 21 1 in the balloting held on July 3, 1850. Today's concern with conflict i of interest and divided responsibility would certainly preclude an | officer from acting in a dual capacity for city and county, but it | does not seem to have operated then. Neither was Hayes' situation ! unique: a similar case with Cameron Thom was reported. His circum stance was made more odd when, in a land dispute between the city and the county, Attorney Thom had been required to defend both sides 22 of the case. From the beginning, Hayes had evidenced a continuing influence Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. ; 38 ! on local politics and government, particularly during his long tenure as district judge from January 1, 1853, until his defeat by Pablo de 23 la Guerra in 1864. Scott, however, had had only an immediate concern | for politics. He was elected the first Justice of the Peace, but ! Judge Hayes said that Scott had taken the office only to lend his I 24 j ability to county organization. He had been a prominent lawyer in I Missouri and had moved quickly into the front rank of the Los Angeles bar. Here he had found his natural element in the opportunities of j | j the law and the courts. However, he had not cared much for the judgeship and soon had tired of it. Giving it up, he had returned to the active practice of law. He had maintained his connections with the party leaders and had helped them in subsequent elections, but his main concern had been as a counselor at law. At times he had worked alone; sometimes with partners like Lewis Granger, James H. 25 Lander and General Ezra Drown. In 1855, Scott had gone into business with Abel Stearns when they had erected the first brick flour mill in Los Angeles. He also became a successful vineyardist, planting extensive acres in the early 1860s. i i | Different from Scott, two other newcomers, William G. Dryden and Joseph Lancaster Brent, maintained a continued interest and activity in things political. "Judge Dryden," as he was most often called, had come to California with the Workman overland party but had tarried in the northern part of the state before coming to Los Angeles. Upon his arrival, he soon was appointed city clerk, a post which he held for nine y-sars. Concurrently, he had been city attorney, suc ceeding Hayes when the latter had resigned the office in September, Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 39 1851.^ Subsequently, Dryden was a police judge, in 1853,^ a 28 member of the Board of Education in 1866, as well as being a long 29 time county judge. His reputation had been better made as an orator on festive occasions than as a lawyer or a judge. Harris Newmark did not include Dryden among the important lawyers of Los Angeles when he had made a list of those practicing when he had arrived in town in 1853. "At no time was his knowledge of law and things pertaining 30 thereto other than extremely limited." However, Newmark had given Dryden his due: he had been audacious enough to carry himself through any treacherous legal technicalities that would have snared one less adroit. Especially had this been apparent in Dryden's successful opposition to the criminal element of which Los Angeles had had its 31 greater share through the years. J. Lancaster Brent had come much better equipped than Dryden or any other of his fellows in the legal profession. Not only had 32 he a much better library than was then available in Los Angeles, but his native ability had marked him as an able lawyer and an astute politician. Therefore, he had immediately become recognized as, perhaps, the most talented member of the Los Angeles bar, "a forceful 33 and eloquent debator . . . equal to whatever task he may assume." Becoming an expert on land titles, he had been employed by many rancheros to prosecute their claims to Spanish and Mexican land grants before the commissioners and the courts. Because of his fidelity to their interests, the Spanish and native Californians had come to have unbounded confidence in his ability. In politics he seldom held official position, though he had become a member of the state assembly Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. for three years (1856-1859). His particular skill had been as a political manager, thereby giving him wide influence in organizing the party locally and throughout the state. However, such was his recognized ability that, in the opinion of Henry D. Barrows, not only had the Democrats used him, but all parties had taken pride in 34 his assistance in the councils of state at Sacramento. Here, then, was the emerging power structure of Los Angeles in 1850. Merchants and ranchers, lawyers and judges, each with their native talents and vested interests, combined to effect control of the social, business, and political life of the community. Its nucleus, aaid Judge Hayes, had been a junta of all leading Californians which had met in secret at the house of Agustin Olvera early in March, 1850. Although Hayes did not list those in attendance, and preserve the "secrecy" of their identity, one can judge from the names of those selected as the county's first officers the probable membership of the caucus. Besides Olvera, certainly Manuel Garfias, Don Ignacio del Valle, and Antonio F. Coronel must have been there. These men not only were representatives of the "wealthy Mexican families," one half of the faction in control of Los Angeles society, but they had already 3i figured prominently in the business and political life of the pueblo. By this same criterion, one could expect that the Lugo family would have been represented; certainly Don Jos^ Antonio Aguirre, reputed 37 / to have been a millionaire. Very probably, Andres Pico had been / there also, though whether his brother, Pio, had attended is question able. Previously active in local politics, and governor of Alta Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 41 / California on two occasions (1832-1833; 1845-1846), Plo Pico had always 38 been looked upon as a clown by the better element of Californians. Rather than continued political activity, he had been prone to ostentatious display of his Mexican decorations that had been bestowed 39 upon him for past official services. Hayes had represented the junta as having been composed of "leading Californians" but had not restricted it only to Californios, but, by indirection, had suggested that Americans had been there also. His laconic statement that "our ticket had a large majority" at the 40 polls could be interpreted to mean that he had been there. Who else had been present is a matter of conjecture, but not entirely guess work. Using the other half of the criterion of the governing body in Los Angeles County, "the better class Americans,"^’ one could logically conclude that J. Lancaster Brent and Jonathan R. Scott had been in vited to the meeting. Their reputations as men of stature and ability would certainly have recommended them. Of the American Dons, Benito Wilson would be a logical candidate and, very probably, Stephen C. Foster, first American alcalde of Los Angeles who had been appointed | by Colonel Jonathan Drake Stephenson under orders from Colonel Richard 42 B. Mason, military Governor of California. What would have been most probable was the presence of the Temple brothers, John and Francis, and Don Abel Stearns. "Don Juan" Temple, according to Harris Newmark, had been one of the wealthiest 43 men in all California. His interest in local affairs was evident not only in his vast land holdings and business interests, but in the personal concern that he had felt for getting things organized under Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 42 American rule. It had been he who had come forward with the $3,000 to pay Lieutenant E. 0. C. Ord for his survey of Los Angeles, advancing the money to the city as a cash payment to Ord in lieu of the grant of 44 land which had first been offered. Abel Stearns, a resident of the area since 1829, just two years 45 short of the time John Temple had been there, had always figured prominently in the affairs of the community. Harried into the Bandini family, a connection of wide influence in Southern California, he had developed, through natural affinity, a common interest with the 46 Californios. Not only had he been selected as a delegate to the state constitutional convention at Monterey, Stearns, especially since 1836, had figured largely in local politics, bringing benefits to the 47 rancheros and paisanos alike. Particularly had this been so during the troubled days when California had been the object of American manifest destiny. Stearns had constantly busied himself getting up juntas to resolve policy, to protect native interests, or to facilitate 48 the transition to American rule. This service had continued on the local scene as well as at Sacramento. On six different occasions he | had been made a "Judge of the Plains," a position of peculiar signifi- i 49 cance in the brand conscious "cow counties" of the Southland. Then, in a more positive service to political Interests, he had become a member of the Los Angeles City Common Council, and, on two occasions (1851 and 1861), had gone to Sacramento as an assemblyman from the 50 county. In addition, he had been a participant from time to time in party conventions, first as a Democrat, then as a Republican."** Whatever its make up, the junta that had met that day at the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 43 Olvera residence, had represented, in Judge Hayes' opinion, the ascendance of native California power. At the same time it may well have been considered its zenith. The gente de razon, as the grandee class of Spanish-speaking Californians was called, occupied a prime position because of their wealth and social heritage. They had never ibeen able to grasp and hold the political power of the county— nor the state— as they might have done. Integrated politics had been the spirit of the occasion when the county government had first been organized, and it had continued as a major characteristic of the political community. Even as early as 1850, the affairs of business and state had fallen, with increasing significance, into the hands of CO the newcomers, * Of all the conditions that had operated to the advantage of the Yankees, perhaps the most significant had been their knowledge of American styled "democracy" and its incipient opportunities for electioneering and office holding. Universal manhood suffrage, and all that it suggests to the initiated, had never been a characteristic of the Latin community where paisanos had been content to follow the i | leadership of the ricos. their economic and social superiors. Hot so with the rambunctious, opportunity-seeking Americans who had always seen politics as not only the vehicle of popular government, but as the mode for personal gratification and advancement. Consequently, with the creation of a permanent system of local government in 1850, there had been a stampede of office seekers by the Americans in the community. Some had been anxious, like John Temple and Judge Hayes, for the stability that ordered government would bring. But others, Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. like James H. Lander, had been mere "office practioners" who had made 53 politics a way of life. Opportunities had been manifold. Both local | and state positions had needed filling as government on all levels had been established. Moreover, elections had been scheduled frequently, increasing the opportunities for the office seekers. The city balloted every year in May, while the county voted equally as often, but on a staggered schedule, in September. As a consequence, a change of office personnel had been almost as frequent as the balloting. A review of the roster of city and county positions suggests a game of musical chairs, almost, as familiar names, both Spanish-speaking and Anglo* American, repeatedly appeared on the lists of local officials. Coronel, Del Valle, Requena, Olvera, Pico, and Aguilar; Wilson, Brent, Downey, Marchesseault, Nichols, Larder, Norton, Mascarel, Thom, King, and Warner— these are typical of the names that appeared and reappeared in one position or another through the years. Some, like William G. Dryden and Judge Benjamin I. Hayes, had enjoyed long terms on the bench, but city officials, like attorney, assessor, and mayor had changed with the voting seasons. Damion Marchesseault had experienced | the longest tenure as mayor of Los Angeles, a four-year stretch from 54 1861-1864, and another year in 1867. However, one year stints had been the general rule, not only for mayors but for other positions as well. Such a pattern of rapid change could suggest political im maturity as the varied interest groups, and individuals within these groups, had been struggling to the surface. It could also imply the tenuous hold that new institutions had obtained in an alien environ Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 45 ment that had offered such peculiar challenges to the innovators, experienced though they may have been in American politics. Very probably, it had been a mixture of both, plus a dash of frontier democracy with its demands for frequent elections and rotation of office. Whatever the influence, the first elections, local as well as statewide, had been less partisan than one might have expected considering the schism in politics that had been developing over the issues of 1850. Judge Hayes had not mentioned national affiliations when he had described the work of the junta that had organized Los Angeles County. Though a partial organization of the Democratic Party had been kept up in San Francisco, there had been no general organization of any political party in the state.^ However, with the preliminaries of statehood accomplished by California's admission to the Union, and the subsequent legislative direction to hold county elections, efforts had been made to organize parties in accord with the national pattern. Late in January, 1850, a Democratic meeting had been held in San Jose, where the legislature was then meeting, and plans had been implemented to effect a statewide organization. Overt statements to the end "that no Whig shall hereafter receive a democratic vote for any office in the gift of the people" signaled the end to non-partisan ship in California politics. Reacting in kind, legislators with Whig sentiments had proceeded to organize and to state their purpose: the promulgation of Whig Party principles, and the maintenance of "party spirit," a vital, and integral element in the American political 56 system. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 46 Thus vitalized, both parties had developed their county organi zations so that they could send delegates to state conventions the next year. The Democrats met at Benicea on May 19, 1851, while the Whigs gathered the following week at San Francisco.In the larger sense, these had been purely organizational meetings— opportunities to shape the California parties to the national mold; to align political strength for the forthcoming presidential election of 1852. Each gathering had represented the characteristics peculiar to the eastern branches of the party, but local personalities and issues more often had dominated the selection of chairmen and the conduct of the con ventions. As was typical throughout the Fifties, Northern Californians had dominated the political arena at the very inception of party organization. Southlanders very probably attended the conventions, for Whiggish attitudes and Democratic politics had been evident in the southern counties as well as in the north. For example, Pablo de la Guerra, resident of Santa Barbara, had been a Whig when he was nominated for lieutenant governor in the first election of state ' 58 j officers. So had been John G. Downey, though he later had dismissed his Whiggery as a youthful flirtation before settling down as a life- 59 long Democrat. Other Southern Californians had also been Whigs, especially among the more conservative gentry; but no delegates from the area had appeared in the list of party nominees chosen at either 60 the first convention or the one held in 1852. What had been true of the Whigs was also true, at first, of the Democrats. The southern counties had shown no appreciable influence until 1853 when Antonio F. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Coronel, as chairman o£ the Los Angeles County Democratic Committee, had taken a delegation to the state convention strong enough to see 61 J. J. Warner considered as a nominee for lieutenant governor. Relative weakness and strength of the local political organiza- tions and their relationships to state politics had not always re flected the national position of the respective parties— Whig and Democrat. Conservatives throughout the country had been attracted to the principles of Webster and Clay for the stabilizing influences that the Whigs had had on sectional strife. But, California Whigs, even | at the time of the party's national ascendancy with the election of Taylor and Fillmore, had had little influence on state politics. Locally and state-wide, the Democrats except for the brief moment of Know-Nothing ism in the mid-fifties, had dominated the elections and 62 had held the offices. As it had been in the state, so it was in Los Angeles County. It had been a Democratic bailiwick, During the Fi£ties--even through the years up to 1870--they had failed only twice to send their men to the state senate; in 1853 (D. W. Kurtz, Whig), and in 1865 (Phineas i Banning, Union). In the assembly the situation had been the same. Of the twenty-one men representing Los Angeles County through the eighteenth session (1850-1870), nineteen had been Democrats. Jefferson Hunt, a Mormon from San Bernardino, had been elected as a Whig for the fourth session (1853), as had Francis Melius in 1855. However, after San Bernardino had been created as a separate county, Hunt had been replaced by a Democrat in the next session. San Bernardino had continued Hunt as its representative in the assembly Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 48 for the next four sessions, but even he changed his affiliation to a 63 | Democrat. j Dominance of the political situation by the Democrats had not been a happenstance, particularly in Los Angeles County. All factions had had equal opportunity to exploit the opportunities, but the Democrats had been especially adroit, and perhaps, less squemlsh than their opponents in cultivating nascent political power. Most of the emigres to the county had come from the Southern States, men whose 64 inclinations had been toward politics. In addition, the party had I been particularly favored by capable organizers and zealous workers. I i Judge Hayes and J. Lancaster Brent had been outstandingly successful among the Spanish-speaking element whose vote was eagerly solicited by all factions. Hayes had had a kindred relationship as a Catholic, a rapport of peculiar significance in the Latin community of Southern California. In addition, he and Brent, through their close association as defenders of the dons in land-claim suits, had built a political 65 following that had been hard to break. Brent had become the power behind the Democratic Party in } Los Angeles County. A tireless worker, and an adroit manipulator of interest and political pressure, he had been constantly active in the continual meetings that political circumstances bring. Most of these gatherings had been held at the Del Valle residence where Brent had maintained his office. Harris Newmark noted this circumstance as especially significant in the close understanding that Brent had built 66 with the Spanish-speaking members of the Los Angeles community. Almost continuously a member, and frequently chairman, he had been Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 49 virtually the political boss of the Democratic organization if anyone 67 I deserved that title. There were other leaders in the party, to be sure: Antonio F. Coronel, Andres Pico, Tomas Sanchez among the natives; and Jonathan R. Scott, Ezra Drown, Henry Hamilton and John G. Downey. These were the men who had been most prominent among the policy makers for Democracy, individuals to whom the state organization had been able to look for support in time of need. But Brent had stood out among his fellows, a fact that is most clearly seen in 1858, one of those rare years in which he had departed from the manager's role to seek | political office. The time had been one of trouble and worry for the Democrats in California. They were suffering from the same stresses that had threatened the national party: popular sovereignty, Kansas and Black Republicanism. Los Angeles Democrats had split over these same issues, and Brent's nomination (and election) had been in question, His defeat had portents of serious consequence, not only in the county, but in the state as a whole. This is what had worried John W. Shore, Los Angeles Democrat and party regular then employed in the surveyor- general 's office in Sacramento. Consequently, he had written to i Benjamin D. Wilson and pled with him to use his influence among the ! 68 county's Democrats for the support of "our mutual friend, Mr. Brent. Despite Shore's worries, the party regulars had been able to close ranks sufficiently behind Brent at the county convention, and he had received the nomination. In what had been virtually a one-party circumstance, nomination was tantamount to election, and Brent had gone to Sacramento,^ In the legislature, Brent had assumed a prominent position as Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 50 chairman of the Ways and Means Committee. ^0 This had been recognition not only of his expertise in financial matters, but of his consummate skill in things political. In this way, he had been able to continue his leadership of the Los Angeles delegation and to extend his in fluence statewide as well. Thus, Los Angeles County, though a lessor factor in the early councils that had determined state policy, soon moved into a position of influence and power. Its vote had still been small when compared to the state as a whole, but it had been important to the Democratic 71 Party. For this reason, during the crucial year of 1860, the Latham faction at the state nominating convention had reached down into the southern counties to nominate John G. Downey as lieutenant governor— a deliberate attempt to tap the Los Angeles County vote. At the time, factionalism had splintered the Los Angeles Democrats as it had done throughout the state and nation, and Downey's delegation had gone to the state convention as a minority representa tion. Nevertheless, the maneuver by the Latham forces had been suc cessful, and Los Angeles had voted for the balanced ticket. Following | the election, the results had been hailed with jubilation in Los Angeles County— especially after Downey had subsequently stepped up to the governorship. Henry Hamilton, editor of the Los Angeles Star, had expressed the common feeling in the community: finally, Los Angeles had come into its own. Downey as one of their immediate fellow citizens could be expected to be sympathetic to their problems. The 72 county should no longer suffer as it had in the past. Thus, a new era for Los Angeles and the "cow counties" of the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 51 south had been ushered in. However, the very circumstances that had brought Downey to the governorship had been but shadows of the national image, and his was not destined to be a peaceful administra tion. Californians had their own problems, but they had not been able to divorce themselves from the sectional issues that were tearing at the nation. Neither had distance from the center of the controversy saved them from internal dissension. Ideologies and human loyalties had leaped the miles of prairie and mountain to entangle the state in | that cataclysmic struggle that "Bloody" Kansas had opened. | j How had it been in California, especially in Los Angeles County, when the nation had stood on the brink of violence? How had individuals and their political parties reacted as men and events had pushed the nation along the road to Sumter? How had they responded to the issues and problems that had agonized the nation? Was theirs a significant affect on political attitudes or had it only been a peripheral influence on the nation as a whole? Quick answers cannot be given for the issues had cut deeply into the state and county as I they had done in the nation abroad. Consideration is vital, however, | | for as California had been to the nation, so Los Angeles County had | been to the state— a segment, but an integral part of the whole. The bugles had called and Californians heard them. How they had responded, at large and in Los Angeles County, may better be understood against the background of events and issues that had presaged the conflict. Here one may better appreciate the attitudes and actions of the Angelenos during the crucial years of the Civil War decades. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 52 NOTES *Downey, Autobiography. 2 Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, pp. 52-53. A succinct account of Los Angeles business enterprise in the Fifties is given by M. R. Newmark, "Pioneer Merchants of Los Angeles," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXIV (Sept., 1942), 77-97; XXV (March- June, 1942), 5-65. Also see Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern Cali fornia , passim. Hayes in Sketch of Los Angeles, pp. 35-56, and Laura Evertsen King, "The Stores of Los Angeles in 1850," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California and of the Pioneers of Los Angeles County, V (1900), 5-8. 3 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 31. 4 Ibid., p. 61. Newmark, Census of Los Angeles, pp. 29-67. 6 Warner, Sketch of Los Angeles, p. 40. 7 Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, p. 52. 8 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 92. 9 Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, p. 53. 10 Wilmington Journal, February 23, April 20, 1867. ^Hayes named J. L. Sansevaine as another of the "Fathers of the wine interests in Los Angeles County." Sketch of Los Angeles, P. 114. 12 Keller, "Report to California Growers and Vintners," Wilmington Journal, April 20, 1867. 13 Benjamin Hayes to Hon. Peter H. Burnett, Pueblo de Los Angeles, April 20, 1850, Hayes Collection, Bancroft Library. 14 Hayes, Pioneer Notes, pp. 186-187. \ayne, Annals of Los Angeles, p. 56. 16 Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 187. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 53 17 Hayes, Sketch of Los Angeles, p. 34. 18 Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 186. 19 Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, p. 56. 20 Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 186. Cf. Petition to Peter H.. Burnett, MS, Huntington Library. 21 Hayes, Sketch of Los Anyseles, p. 37. 22 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, pp. 51-52. 23 J. Chauncey Hayes, "Biographical Sketch of Benjamin 1. Hayes," two letters to W. F. Bliss, March 3, 15, 1909, Oceanside, Calif., Hayes Collection, Banc?roft Library. 24 Hayes, Sketch of Los Angeles, p. 63. I 25 j Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 45. j 2 6 j Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. lx. I 27 | Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 50. I 28 | Los Angeles News. May 8, 1866. 29 John S. McGroarty, ed., History of Los Angeles County (3 vols. , Chicago, 1923), I, 178. 30 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 50. 31Ibid., pp. 50-51. 32 Hayes, Sketch of Los Angeles, p. 64. Before leaving Los i Angeles for the Confederacy, Brent had given his "English" library to j B. D. Wilson. To Ignacio Sepulveda who had been studying law with ; him he had bequeathed his law library which was estimated to be worth $800 to $1000. Sepulveda was able to buy for $100 the title documents and works by French and Latin authors. Del Valle Collection. 33 Unidentified newspaper clipping, Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 43. H. D. Barrows, "J. Lancaster Brent," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California and of the Pioneers of Los Angeles County, VI (1905), 238ff. Hereafter cited as Barrows, *'J. Lancaster Brent." 35 Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 186. 36 Cleland, History of California, American Period, p. 314. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 54 37 Hayes, Pioneer Notes. p. 121. The Lugo holdings had been worth $150,000 in 1850-52. Ibid.. p. 280. 38 ' Layne, Annals of Los Angeles. p. 37. Pio Pico later had signed one of the several petitions to divide the state, but he had taken no active part in such campaigns. Cleland, History of Cali fornia i American Period, p. 348. 39 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 98. 40 Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 186. 41 Cleland, History of California: American Period, p. 314. 42 Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, p. 45. Cf. Guinn, Record of Los Angeles, p. 103. 43 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 66. 44 Temple had been "syndic" Llegal advisor J, and had authorized Ord'8 Survey. Temple's proposed loan was approved by the Council on September 28, 1849. See W. W. Robinson, "Story of Ord's Survey," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XIX (Sept.-Dec., 1937), 123-126. 45 Temple had arrived in California in 1827. "Reminiscences of John Temple," William H. Davis Collection, Huntington Library. Stearns, also from Massachusetts, had arrived in 1829, Stearns-Gaffey Collection. For biographical studies see Doris M. Wright, "A Yankee in Mexican California. Abel Stearns: 1798-1848" (Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Department of History, Claremont College, 1954), and John C. Hough, "Abel Stearns, 1848-1871" (Unpublished Ph.D. disserta tion, Department of History, University of California, Los Angeles, 1961). 46 Cleland, History of California: American Period, p. 251. 47 Hayes, Sketch of Los Angeles, p. 59. 48 In 1843, during the ill-timed occupation of California by Thomas Ap Jones, Steams had hosted the conference between the in vaders and Governor Micheltorena which had hastened Jones' retirement. Guinn, Record of Los Angeles, p. 55. Dr. John S. Griffin reported Stearns' activity in conciliating Southern Californians in his letter to Colonel James D. Stevenson, March 11, 1849, Los Angeles in 1849, A Letter From John S. Griffin, M.D., (Los Angeles, 1949), pp. 13-14. See Cleland, History of California: American Period, p. 172, regarding Larkin's having appointed Stearns as his confidential agent in Southern California. 49 Documents signed by John W. Shore and Charles H. Johnson, clerks of the Court of Sessions, Stearas-Gaffey Collection. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 55 California Blue Book or State Roster (Sacramento, 1909), Hereafter cited as California Blue Book. Members of the state 1 legislature from Los Angeles may be pulled from the alphabetical list, ! pp. 565ff. | ^His attendance at the Republican convention of 1860 is noted by Winfield J. Davis, History of Political Conventions in California, 1849-1892 (Sacramento, 1893), p. 116. Hereafter cited as Davis, Political Conventions in California. However, in 1861, California Blue Book, p. 647, still carried his earlier affiliation— a "Douglas Democrat." 52 Layne, Annals of Los Angeles, p. 52. Cf. Pitt, Decline of the Californios, pp. 130-147.- 53 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 53. Cf Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 65. i 54 Guinn, Record of Los Angeles, pp. 161ff. I 55 j Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 6. | 56Ibid.. pp. 6-7. 57Ibid., p. 12. 58 Ibid., p. 5. De la Guerra soon joined the Democratic Party. 59 Downey, Autobiography. ^Davis, Political Conventions in California, pp. 6-21. 61 Ibid., p. 24. J. Lancaster Brent had been selected as an alternate elector at the Benicia Convention of July 20, 1852. Ibid. P. 52. 69 ■ California Blue Book, pp. 565ff. 64 Quoted in Bancroft, History of California, VI, 648n. ^Hayes and Brent had a falling out over a murder case in volving William B. Lee, a rupture that never healed; Hayes, Pioneer Notes, pp. 187-188. Nevertheless, their personal problems had had no affect on the political allegiance that they had built up among the Californios. ^Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 178. ^7Ibid., p. 47, felt that Brent had controlled the party so Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. ----------------------------------------------------------------------55- well that he had been able to nominate at will. 68 John W. Shore to B. D. Wilson, June 13, 1858, Wilson Papers. 69 Democrats had numbered three, sometimes five, to one in Los Angeles County, according to Barrows, "J. Lancaster Brent," p. 239. 70 San Francisco Daily Morning Call, April 25, 1857. Biographi cal sketches of 1857 legislators were given In issues from April 22 to May 5, 1857. ^*Los Angeles Herald, April 13, 1879. 72 Alta California, January 27, 1860. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER III CALIFORNIA AND THE KANSAS QUESTION | In 1850, when the fruits of the Mexican War had been divided between the North and the South, California had come into the Union full grown, a state without the preliminaries of territorial pro- bat ion. Its unique status had not suggested an unusual precocity in things political, but, instead, had emphasized the peculiar conditions of the time. Circumstances had been unusual, and the decisions that had effected its admission had only reflected the stress under which ! the nation had labored. Sectionalism had been rampant, and the two regions had been locked in conflict over surface issues in the territories which, at their heart, would determine not just control of national policies, but would threaten the safety of the Union it self. But compromise had banked the fires of secession and the truce of 1850 had ushered in a few years' respite. For California, as well i ; as for the rest of the nation, it had given time for adjustment and realignment; an opportunity to realize the changed conditions and possibilities that statehood had brought. Organization of the state and county governments had been the first order of business, though the burgeoning economy had claimed equal attention. But, in the realm of politics, especially In the formation of state parties according to the national patterns, local 57 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 58 circumstances and personalities had proved more significant as de cisions had been made. As Judge Hayes had noted in a letter to Edward |M. Samuel, a New York friend, Californians had been concerned with | public affairs, and had given their attention to the necessary pro cedures to implement benefits to the community at large, but they had been more interested in the personal advantages that local con ditions would bring.* Consequently, sectionalism had not assumed as much Importance I in California as it had done in the east. However, the state could ;not help but become involved, born as it had been out of the conflict !that expansion had heightened. For out of the conditipns that had | seen its admission to the Union had come the twin issues of slavery land free soil. These questions, perhaps aggravated out of proportion j j by subsequent events, had brought the nation to California, forcing I I jit to redirect its interests, to reassess its attitudes toward pro blems that had involved the nation at large. i Of all the issues that had caused CalifornianB to change their focus and to take a hard look at national politics no other had been more significant than Stephen A. Douglas' proposal to organize governments in the Nebraska Territory. Intended to create circumstan ces favorable to a transcontinental railroad project, the Kansas- Nebraska Bill, as first proposed, had offered fulfillment of a long time dream in California. Whatever the party or interest group, construction of an Atlantic and Pacific Railroad had been considered Ian lnmedlate necessity. Not only had It been seen as vital to the i future prosperity of the state, but it would be a bulwark to the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. -ag nation, strengthening the bonds of unity that had linked the continent. In this demand, the Democratic platform of 1854 had said, "we but echo the sentiments of nine-tenths of the people of California when we de clare that congress should do all and everything consistent with the 2 constitution in aiding the commencement and completion of the same." But, congress had not been able to "do all and everything" in aiding the project. Public reaction, spearheaded by vigilant interest groups, had ignored the purely economic aspects of Douglas' proposals, and had thrown them into the maelstrom of political sectionalism where there had been no easy solution. As it had ever been when any national policy had been debated, whether it had been the tariff, land policy, internal improvements, or, especially, anything to do with the western territories, the Kansas-Nebraska Bill had awakened the fears and the ambitions of the sectional champions, in the North and in the South. 3 Though slavery per se may not have been significant in Kansas itself, and Stephen Douglas had struggled mightily against its moral implica tions in his debates with Lincoln, he had not succeeded in divorcing it from his bill. Neither had he been able to avoid the sectionalism that it had threatened to engender. It had not just been a question of whether there should be a railroad, nor merely which section would control the economic advantages that it would bring when the Indian lands had been opened up for settlement. Nor had it been solely a decision as to whether slavery should be admitted into the new terri tory and state that might be created. Instead— and it had been at the root of the whole controversy between the sections--the basic issue had been the hard question of political eminence and control of the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 60 national government. As the nation had debated the Kansas "Question," so had i Californians up and down the state. In Los Angeles, as elsewhere, individual sentiments had been influenced by environmental experiences. Judge Hayes, a native of Maryland and a former resident of Missouri, had said that he was "necessarily Southern by nature and association," when he had written to his sister Emma, living in St. Louis, about sectional attitudes in Los Angeles County. As it had been with Hayes, so it was with the majority of Americans in the area; their tone had been Southern. Thus, when Henry Hamilton, editor of the Los Angeles Star had written on the same subject, he had only spoken the popular feeling when he had argued that popular sovereignty ought to have the support of all right thinking Americans who had been supporters of the principal of self-government. At the same time, he had revealed his naivete', or his bent for editorial chicanery, when he had concluded that all the fuss about slavery in Kansas had been of no real conse quence anyway. The North had nothing to fear in Kansas, for their population was greater than that of the slave states, so migration of i free soilers would logically lead to a free constitution in Kansas. Besides, the Democratic Party had not been made up of slave expan sionists as it had been accused.^ Douglas had pled this same argument as he had asked for a rational test of popular sovereignty. But it had been to no avail. Frenetic debate in the press and on the public platform had proved but an extension of the turbulent controversy that had been waged in the halls of congress. Each faction, free soil and defender of Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 61 Southern Democracy, had been implacable on the question of rights in the territories. Thus, the outcome of Douglas' recommendations had ! been the exact opposite of what he had intended when he first had introduced the bill in congress. Instead of stilling the sectionalism that had threatened strife during what he, himself, had called the "fearful struggle of 1850," his proposals had only awakened the old antagonisms to renewed fury.** Moreover, the whole fabric of political alignments had been torn asunder. Bonds which had formerly held the nation together despite the fanaticism of the Garrisons and the Yanceys i had begun to snap. The churches had already divided--North and South— and so did the party of Democracy. But the Whig Party, organ of conservative restraint that had pulled its support from all sections of the country, had been completely torn apart. The explosive nature of the conflict, more than an ideological debate because of Bloody Kansas, had proved to be too much for the party. It had broken up, never again to be reorganized. As it had been nationally, so it had proved to be the case in California: factionalism over the varied questions connected with i j slavery had played havoc in the ranks of the two political parties. j Free Soil attitudes already evident in the constitutional prohibitions against slavery should have settled the issue in California, but pro slavery interests, particularly in the southern counties, would not let it die.^ Moreover, when the ubiquitous question of fugitives had to be resolved, the compromises reached at Sacramento had seemed almost a defense of existing slavery.® But, California Free Soilers had been anxious not to lose the fight entirely. Thus, even before the Kansas- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Nebraska Bill had opened its can of worms, anti-slavery Democrats had met in a Free Soil Convention in San Francisco, October 15, 1852. There had been no real opposition to the regular Democratic nominees for state offices, but the delegates had appointed members to a separate state central committee anyway. In addition, the convention had appointed presidential electors (Joseph Lloyd, Asa Walker, and J. B. Hill). Then, in a final resolution that had broadened even the objectives of the Wilmot Proviso, the delegates had issued an invita tion to "the friends of the cause to unite in using every means, I I j morally and politically, to free our country from the foul stain and j curse of slavery." Despite these efforts, and, perhaps, because of its ambiguity on state and national questions, the Free Soil faction had had only negligible influence. The regular Democrats had rallied enough support and had won the election. Thus California's electoral votes had gone to Pierce whose attitudes on slavery had been con- 10 sidered more acceptable. For California Whigs, defeat at the polls in 1852 had been i | more than just the loss of a single election. As with their national i counter-parts, it had marked the beginning of their decline as a force j in politics. Efforts to hold the party together had been made at the state convention in Sacramento, July 25, 1854, but without success. Its delegates had represented such a conglomerate of interests as they had drawn up their platform that the break-up of the convention had been almost a fore-gone conclusion. By the next year, the party had virtually disbanded. Most of its members had been attracted to the newly formed Know-Nothing Party which had become, though briefly, the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 63 major opposition element in California politics. This new factor in American politics had been organized in ! 1852 in response to the resurgent nativism that had swept the nation in the early years of the new decade. Refugees from Europe's ills had brought such a flood of immigrants to America that the "native j bora" had been outraged and alarmed. Incipient labor difficulties ! had been compounded at the ballot box, especially when the foreign ; born had been Catholics who could be charged with holding allegiance 12 ! outside and beyond American loyalties. Despite its appeal to "native born Americans," the party had i j i suffered from the in-grown disabilities that localism and sectionalism ! had bred. This had been especially true in California where attitudes ] i had reflected peculiarities that were almost a dichotomy. For example, I | while Colonel Edward J. C. Kewen had regaled Sacramento audiences about I the dangers of the foreign-born, and editor William R. Butts had re minded his Los Angeles readers of the lack of democratic experiences i 13 ; as just cause for denying them the right of suffrage, the majority of Californians had not taken kindly to the basic nativism that had been particularly anti-Catholic, and, at the same time, was only ! slightly anti-foreign. There had been too many of them in California 14 i and their votes had been needed to win elections. Rather than nativists only, California Know-Nothings had also j been reformers, concerned with correcting the abuses in municipal i government that had plagued the state in the middle Fifties. It had ] been here that the party had had its initial success, in the reform I | movements of Marysville and Sacramento. Success in these cities had Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. become a pattern for the rest of the state. San Francisco Vigilantes also had had Know-Nothing premises: "the purpose of placing good men in office . . . for the best interest of the city.Los Angeles Know-nothings had had similar interests. They wanted to have nothing to do with parties or factions that would strap them to candidates nominated and controlled by thoroughly corrupt and dishonest politi cians. Instead, advised the editors of the Southern Californian, the people would be better off to leave the regular party and to vote as independents and thus insure the election of men who would administer ! i the government with efficiency and economy. To this end a slate of candidates had been offered to the voters "who were sick of the Democratic or any other party" which had failed to consider the wel- 16 fare of the people. However high flown had been their idealism, their non-partisan status had not lasted long. Their basic interest in municipal reform had built a natural affinity for the principles of California Know-Nothingism. Thus, candidates such as Benjamin D. Wilson, Abel Stearns, Dr. T. A. Mayes, and Manuel Requena, who had declared themselves free from party affiliation, had also been listed as nominees of the American Party, the name adopted nationally for the Know-Nothings. Before long, their independent stance had been 17 abandoned completely, and they had campaigned openly as Americans. Throughout the state, Know-Nothingism had attracted enough interest to support a state convention at Sacramento on Tuesday, 18 August 7, 1854. Resolutions supporting the party cause had been adopted, and a permanent organization had been effected. By the following September, the order had spread its network of secret Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 65 councils throughout the entire state. Reform had been in the air, and, as a consequence, the party swept to victory at the subsequent state { elections. J. Neeley Johnson and the whole American slate had been elected, and the party had won a majority in the legislature as well. Los Angeles Americans had had a part in the victory, both at the convention and in the final election. Two of its residents had been nominated for state office; one of them, Alexander Bell, won 19 election as a state prison inspector. However, as is so often true when election issues offer chances for the electorate to be illogical, oddities in voting patterns had emerged on the local scene. While Los Angeles Americans had gained control of the city and county, they had been able to muster only half as many votes for Governor Johnson as 20 cast for the Democratic candidate, John Bigler. Even in the choice of state legislators, they had split their vote: J. Lancaster Brent had received more votes for the assembly than did B. D. Wilson, the Independent-American victor in the senate. At the same time, Abel Stearns had lost out to John G. Downey, the Democratic candidate for the assembly. ^ Such a dichotomy in voter interest was to be expected of a party made up of "exaggerated Whigs, aggravated Democrats and very aggravating Know-Nothings," snorted Henry Hamilton at the results of 22 the election. At the same time, it had suggested a basic weakness in the whole structure of Know-Nothing appeal. The party had been no coalition, but a mere patchwork at its best. Furthermore, bandwagon- ing by old line politicians had not improved its ability to deliver a positive program of reform legislation. For all their promises, the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 66 Know-Nothings had produced only one piece of statesmenlike legislation — the charter for the City and County of San Francisco. All else had i been lost as selfish politicians had played loose with principles while they sought personal ambition and private gain. Yet, with all the difficulty that self-seeking politicians had given the party, the real trouble had gone deeper than that. Inherently, the party had been ambivalent in purpose, and weak in resolve. It had been unable to make up its collective mind on the basic issues that had to be resolved. Not only had the party quibbled on its reform policy in general, but it had been particularly mealy- 23 mouthed in its whole attitude toward the vigilantes. Then, when it had come to the territorial questions on slavery, it had talked first one policy, then another, until it had ruined itself as an alternate political force, in California, and in the nation at large. Early in the controversy, some California Americans had tried to neutralize the force of the sectional strife that had begun to divide the nation. To them, the struggle over slavery in Kansas had been a miscarriage of justice in a democracy--not because it was a i | denial of the rights of the sections in the territories— but because I (for California) it had circumvented the real issues for "cunningly fomented discord foreign to this state.While California has asked for reform, . . . she has been answered by a clamor about the annexation of Cuba. She has asked for a railroad, and the response has been a howl about the Nebraska Bill. She has asked for protection against lynch law, judicial corruption, and imbecility. She has asked for a speedy settle ment of our land titles, and a proper and just protection of the bona fide settlers Cnative-born AmericansU , and dis-union is thundered upon our ears in reply. Have we not a mission in the world--a separate duty to perform, and a distinct destiny to work out?25 with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. I But, slavery had been the all consuming national issue which, I j despite the efforts to neutralize it, had claimed, then split, the i American convention at Philadelphia. California delegates— specifi- i cally those hopeful of quieting the sectionalism that had endangered the convention— had tried to postpone the nomination of presidential candidates in the interest of reform politics, but the Southerners (both Californian and Eastern) had been determined to have their way. Consequently, delegates with anti-slavery sentiments had taken a walk, called themselves North Americans, held a separate convention, and had nominated John C. Fremont for presidentThe remaining delegates, aptly called South Americans for their espousal of pro-slave interests in the territories, had nominated Millard Fillmore and Andrew Jackson 27 Donelson whose views had been more acceptable to the Southern vote. How Californian delegates had divided at Philadelphia— North Americans versus South Americans— is obvious from the actions of the next state council at their meeting in Sacramento, May 13, 1856. At a gathering of one hundred and forty delegates from some twenty-five counties, the council had taken the opportunity to thank California's delegates for their efforts at Philadelphia in behalf of Fillmore and Donelson. Then, lest there had been any lingering doubt as to the official position of the party on the Kansas Question, the following resolution had been adopted and recommended to the counties: That the people of the territories of the United States have the sole right to regulate their own domestic institutions, and that Congress has no constitutional power, either directly or indirectly, to interfere with slavery either in the states or territories.28 This was the only stand, the council had argued further, that Califor nians could justifiably take. For the Kansas-Nebraska Bill, with its Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. — ------------------ 5$ inherent popular sovereignty, merely had expressed the privilege that Californians, themselves, had exercised in writing their constitutional attitude on slavery. Such a position may have seemed logical to South Americans but it did not jibe with the opinions of those Californians, or anyone else, who had committed themselves to the principles of the Wilmot Proviso. Not only had they been opposed to the expansion of slavery into the new territories, but they had become deeply disturbed, if not embittered, by the crass politics that had seemed to be operating in Kansas at the time. Consequently, a deep schism had developed in the ranks of the California Americans. As it had happened to the Whigs before them, inexorable attitudes on the slave question had alienated political friends until they could no longer find common cause in the struggle for votes. American candidates had remained in the field, but the party's strength had been drained away by the increasingly popular Republicans. Already attractive because of its free soil sentiments, that new party had had special appeal to dissident North Americans when John C. Fremont, their choice at Philadelphia, had become the Republican nominee for president. Thus, the stage had been set for the campaign of 1856. With the addition of the Republican candidates, it had become a three-way race: James Buchanan for the Democrats, Millard Fillmore for the Americans, and the erst-while senator from California, John C. Fremont, for the Republicans. Each of the party platforms had included their usual ambiguities and appeals to local prejudices, but the national issues had come into sharper focus as the campaign had progressed. Buchanan had come out uniquivocally for the Kansas-Nebraska Bill and Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 69 its defense of Southern Rights in the territories while Fremont had been adamant in his opposition. The Americans, in an attempt to re gain their status as the party of reform, had issued a non-committal 29 statement on slavery, but such light-footed politics had been of no use. Early actions by the South Americans, re-enforced by the pro- Southern, pro-slave policies determined by the delegates at the Sacramento Convention, had cast the American Party's ultimate destiny: a third party, but a faction without a real difference. The signifi cance of this development had not been lost on the voters when they had pondered the men and issues as the campaign had moved on to election day. In Los Angeles, local opinion had reflected the pattern of the state as the debate had centered more and more on the slave question in the territories. The Democrats had still claimed a majority, but like the Independent-Americans, they had suffered from the factionalism that free soil and the Republican Party had encouraged. Fremont, for all his personal disabilities that Los Angeles residents had known so well, had become the rallying point for all anti-Kansas-Nebraska opinion that had seen Buchanan as a dough faced compromise with the powers of Slavocracy. Thus, as Alexander Bell had left the Americans to become a presidential elector for Fremont, so had Antonio M. Pico left the Democrats to serve as a member of the State Republican 30 Central Committee. Only two men, but these had been prominent examples of what had happened as Los Angeles, like the rest of the nation, had debated the issues of 1856. It had been an exciting election locally, high lighted by the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 70 usual carnival shennanigans that had made any Los Angeles election almost a travesty on democracy. But it had not been a light hearted | campaign. Henry Hamilton and his rival editor, Francisco P. Ramirez, I had seen to that. Both men had been deeply committed to partisan / polltics--Hamilton and his Star for the Democrats, and Ramirez and El Clamor Publico for the Republicans. Vituperation and exaggeration had been the mode in editorial politics, and both men had become ex- i perts in the field. Even a casual reading of their columns will give ample testimony of that. Hamilton had written little of Millard Fillmore and the i | Americans whose platform he had thought too narrow to be worthy of notice. But Fremont had represented a real danger. Not only had he been the "Monster Monopolist" of Mariposa, a "land shark," and a tool of dishonest speculators, but he had always been an insufferable egotist whose errors in judgment were well remembered in Southern California. Moreover, Fremont symbolized the gross sectionalism that had permeated the whole North. Black Republicanism, unless contained, ! would destroy the rights of the South; anarchy and treason would work ' 31 | their evil ways, and the end of the Union would be the result. / Hamilton had had a vicious pen, but Ramirez had retaliated in kind. An able journalist despite his youth, he had taxed Hamilton for his illogic (what had been corruption in a political opponent Hamilton had condoned in a Democrat), accused him of bleating so much "twaddle" about disunion, had castigated his candidate as a filibus- terer (Ostend Manifesto), and had blasted the Democrats for counte nancing the traffic in human flesh. Moreover, anyone who voted for Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 71 j Buchanan, In Ramirez* opinion, would vote for the destruction of real I ! democracy in the land. The Southerners had not been Democrats, but, j instead, were plutocrats. They had always stood for principles directly opposed to all that freedom would establish: not free schools, free press, free speech, and the free exercise of the constitutional rights on thought and action; but rice fields, 'possums, tobacco I worms, Negroes, pump-shod aristocrats, yellow fever, hogs, hominy, molasses, pistols, bowie knives, delapidated mansions, and worn out | plantations; all essential elements in a regime of three million j slave owners, reveling in supreme power over the liberties of freedom I , 32 l loving Americans. / While Hamilton and Ramirez had thrown most of their ink at the national candidates, the local politicians had taken their licks also. Local issues had to be decided as well as who should be president. Not only had county offices needed filling, but control of the state legis lature had been in question. The Democrats had been particularly anxious to unseat the Know-Nothing majority at Sacramento so that they would be able to elect the new United States Senator. Such a choice j should have been made the previous year, but the Know-Nothings had not I been able to swing it. Henry S. Foote, ex-Governor of Mississippi, had been nominated, but too many doubts about him had been raised among anti-slavery legislators. During the impasse, the Democrats had maneuvered a postponement until the next session. By then, they 33 had expected to have a majority. They had won a majority, and a clean sweep of all the state offices as well, presidential electors included. Buchanan and Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 72 Breckinridge had ridden a comfortable margin to victory, with 16,822 votes over Fillmore and Donelson, their nearest rivals. Fremont had trailed in the last place with less than half as many votes as the 34 American candidates had received. For the Democrats, it had been a satisfying victory statewide, j and it had turned out equally well for them in Los Angeles. The total count reported by the county clerk's office had shown that 1,367 | ballots had been cast in the county. Of these, Buchanan and the I I Democrats had received 721, the infant Republican Party had counted 1 521, while the Know-Nothing-Americans had been able to muster only j a dismal 135 votes in all. This certainly had been a far cry from yester-year, for Ameri cans and Democrats alike. Instead of victory for the Americans, achieved so dramatically on the wave of reform, it had been defeat — almost an eclipse of their political future. More significantly, it had been Free Soil, not reform, that had caught the voters' | attention, and the returns showed conclusively what deep inroads | Republicanism had made into the party of democracy. This fact is 1 I certain: Fremont's support had not been imported. No new wave of immigration had brought an influx of Republicans to Southern Cali fornia. Local citizens had cast their ballots, and many of them had been former Democrats. Undoubtedly fraud and extraneous in ducements had influenced some Fremont voters, as Hamilton had 36 charged. But to impute Republican strength entirely to election irregularities is to deny the impact that the Kansas Question had made— even on Hamilton. Else why had he expended so much space and Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 73 energy editorializing against it? I { Nevertheless, Buchanan had won the presidency and local Democrats had replaced the Americans in county and state offices. In addition, they had continued in the majority despite the Republicans, 37 and had had things pretty well their own way. But circumstances | had not been the same. The Democrats had no longer been able to enjoy i the comfortable time at the polls that a virtual one-party county had ! produced. Neither had victory for the party had the calming influence | on factionalism that had been the customary experience. Instead of ipeace and party unity, there had been continual strife. A split in the party had been developing, and the county papers had been full of the struggle that had begun the rupture. Local antagonisms and rivalry among ambitious men had proved to be the key elements in the conflict, but the incipient causes had been deeper, and broader, than that. i Kansas had still been the major issue, and Buchanan had kept it alive. As the party had split nationally— Douglas Democrats versus Lecompton Democrats— so it had divided in California. Los Angeles County had i been no exception to the rest of the state. Local Democrats had suffered along with the rest of the party. I As is true in many historical developments, the break in the j local party organization had had its origin in small beginnings. The immediate occasion had been the nomination of candidates for the | various judgeships vacant at different times. Because judicial elections had been held in off seasons, when no state or national j offices were on the ballot, the minimum of partisan politics should i have operated. But, such was not the climate of the times. Thus, in Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 74 June, 1858, when the time had come to hold another election for federal district judge in the southern counties, dissident Democrats j had seen it as an opportunity to unseat Benjamin I. Hayes, the incum- bent and long-time favorite of the regulars who had made up the ruling hierarchy in Los Angeles County. Under the aegis of the Democratic District Committee, a call had been issued for mass conventions to be held in the three counties of the district--Los Angeles, San Bernardino and San Diego. At these meetings delegates had been chosen, instructed, 38 and sent to the district nominating convention held in Los Angeles. | Opposition to these plans had developed immediately, and the | regulars had rallied behind the County Central Committee as the only | authorized agent to speak for the party. Not only had the District Committee failed to give enough notice of its meeting to ensure a full j participation by interested parties, but, as Henry Hamilton had argued, I it was an illegal body anyway. It had been created for the special purposes of the previous year's senatorial election, and now should have been a defunct organization. Thus, its call for mass conventions should have been ignored, and primary elections should have been held i instead. This had been the time honored method of selecting delegates | to county-wide conventions— to let the voters in each precinct have a I voice in the nomination of candidates through their chosen representa- ! 39 : tives. I Clash on procedure had not suggested a difference of opinion on the processes of democracy, but had merely highlighted the struggle j for power that had developed within the local Democratic Party. J. Lancaster Brent had long been the leader in county politics, but, at Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 75 this time, he was being challenged by John G. Downey. Consequently, more had been involved than just who should be the district judge. | 40 I Control of the party organization in the county had been at stake. Downey and his cohorts were false friends of "democracy," 41 Henry Hamilton had warned his readers, but they had held a meeting | anyway. Delegates from the county, John Padilla, F. O'Campo, and i l Ignacio Palomares, who had been chosen as the District Committee had instructed, had come to the District Convention according to plan. Representatives from San Bernardino had also come, but none had appear- ed from San Diego. Nothing daunted, the convention had gone ahead with | its business--even if it had had to represent San Diego by a "proxy" | delegate in the form of a Mr. Gitchell who had just happened to be in i town. Jonathan J. Warner, editor of the short-lived Southern Vineyard, had presided as Temporary Chairman, but Downey's influence had domina ted the convention. With a minimum of difficulty, Columbus Sims had been nominated to oppose Benjamin Hayes, and his name had gone before the people. The election had been held with the usual fanfare, but l | Sims, though he had campaigned with energy, had been no match for those two compadres of the Californio community. Brent's forces had rallied the native vote sufficiently behind Hayes to win the election and to continue the judge in office. Even so, the victory had not put an end to factionalism, nor had the struggle for power abated. Rather, it had continued with renewed vigor so that, by the time the county convention had been held the following year, the Democratic Party of 42 Los Angeles had become hopelessly split. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 76 When that convention had assembled in Los Angeles, June 8, 11859, both factions had been well represented. Downey and Brent had j been present, but both had preferred to work through agents rather than to assume direct control of the proceedings. At the start of the ! meeting, Downey's forces had succeeded in getting their man, William j Ross, to preside over the convention. But, as soon as the first session had been called to order, an immediate fight had developed over credentials and the seating of the delegates. Two precincts had dis puted delegations: San Jose and La Ballona where voting irregularities | had left a question about their legal representation. Downey's men had tried to out-maneuver Brent by authorizing the chairman to appoint a five-member committee on credentials. Brent had not been able to rally enough support to defeat the proposal outright, nor had the Downey men enough votes to put it over. Thus, evenly divided, the factions had deadlocked the convention before it had gotten started. In an attempt to break the impasse, Ross had cast a chairman's vote, but Brent had not let the matter rest, and had threatened to take a walk if the committee was not enlarged to more than ten members. After | a brief hassle over this new maneuver, the committee had been enlarged to ten members: Brent, Andres Pico and three others. When the committee had held its separate meeting, Brent had done his best to win it over, but had been unsuccessful. Consequently, two reports had been submitted to the convention. The majority had recommended that the credentials of the two disputed precincts be rejected (in effect, to leave them represented by appointees of the chairman). On the other hand, Brent's minority report had demanded Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 77 that proxies should be accepted in their stead: Antonio Coronel and Enrique Avila for San Jose, and Cristobel Aguilar and Ignacio del Valle for La Ballona, To the Downey men, these men had been obvious patsies for Brent, so the minority report had been rejected. There upon Brent and his friends had taken their threatened walk, and adjourned to the office of Ignacio del Valle. Downey's faction had been undismayed by this action and had stayed in session. With no opposition present, they had prepared a slate of candidates for local offices, and had nominated delegates for the State Democratic Convention to be held later that same summer. But to the Regulars, these actions had had no legal sanction. Brent's forces had had the majority, they had argued, and, in leaving, had 43 taken the convention with them. Thus, two conventions had been held, and two sets of local candidates had been prepared and were presented to the voters. More importantly, especially for what the future had held in store for Downey, two sets of delegates had gone north to Sacramento, and had claimed admission to the state nominating convention. What had happened in Los Angeles County, between the forces of Downey and Brent, had been typical of what factionalism had been doing to the Democrats throughout the state. Personal quarrels, especially the vendetta waged by the friends of Broderick and Gwin, had threatened party unity so seriously that a major schism had been threatening. Then, when Buchanan had made his fateful decisions on the Lecompton Constitution, the split had become an actuality. Democrats in Del Norte County had set the pattern for the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission I conflict within the party when, at their convention the previous year, they had taken such a violent stand against Senator Broderick. In j pungent phrases which had castigated him for his opposition to Buchanan, they had practically read Broderick out of the party. Soon after this, other counties had held their conventions, and, in most 44 t cases, they had divided— anti-Lecompton and pro-Buchanan. : i | With such a controversy raging, the Los Angeles Democrats could j not help becoming as deeply involved as their counterparts had done in j , the northern counties. But, when Downey and Brent had gone to the convention in Sacramento, neither of them, personally, had been bothered— neither had they embarrassed themselves politically--by any indecision or questions about where their loyalties had lain in the quarrel between Broderick and Gwin. Brent had always been a close friend of William Gwin; neither he, nor Downey, had had anything to do with David Broderick, in a personal way or in politics. Moreover, both Brent and Downey were Southerners, and had felt completely at home with the Buchanan decisions in Kansas that had denied any interference with 45 the proper relationship between master and slave. Thus, when Downey had gone to the conventions, his attitude on the Kansas Question had not complicated his relationships with the party leaders, or his ability to maneuver for his personal advantage. His quarrel with Brent had made it a bit difficult, particularly as his faction had been a questioned majority. Even so, no charges of political infidelity had made his position untenable, and, in 1859, he had been free to make his deal with Latham--Latham to be governor and Downey to be lieutenant governor. What price he had had to pay is Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 79 46 open to question, for Downey had been far from a popular man. He had no state following at the time, nor had he had the backing of the ! I i regular party organization in his home county. Then, during the cam paign he had had to carry the added burden of gross political inepti tude. His shabby treatment of Jose Rubio had born ample evidence of i j that. In the early part of the campaign, Rubio had worked for Downey ! ! in some small way, and had come to him expecting payment for his services. Instead of paying him, Downey had refused Rubio, and had done it in such a way that he had come away deeply hurt and insulted. i This sad affair, plus his opposition to Brent, had cost him dearly in Los Angeles County. He had been able to win statewide, but, locally, 47 j he had trailed Latham by nearly five hundred votes. Despite the rancor that Downey's personal politics had en gendered, the final outcome— a Democratic victory— had been enough to ease the hurt and heal some of the wounds that factionalism had caused. Even Henry Hamilton had been able to forgive and forget as he had I j contemplated the results. To him, the major issue had been the Kansas I ! 1 Question, and the choice of who should have been elected to the county I and state offices had hinged upon that issue. Thus, as he tallied up the winnings, he had been overjoyed, almost ecstatic in his happy accounting. The anti-Lecompton forces had been soundly beaten by a two to one margin. Then, the Republicans, who had given the Democrats so I ! much cause for worry in 1856, had polled a mere 10,110 votes— only a 48 tenth of the total cast in the whole state. Even on the local level there had been a pleasing rally among the Democratic candidates, with Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 80 only a few errors to the other side. J. J. Warner, mouthpiece for I Downey, had been elected to the assembly, but that small loss had been | more than made up by the victories of two regulars— Andrew J. King to | the assembly, and Andres Pico to the senate. Even Downey's election I as lieutenant governor had been a victory of sorts, despite the odium that his politics had raised. It was a singular privilege for Los Angeles County; the first time that a local resident had been so honored. Now, said Henry Hamilton's Star, trivial conflict within the i ! party should end. A new day had dawned and everyone ought to unite in I I order to realize the opportunities that Downey's election should bring I I , 49 to the county. So John G. Downey had gone to Sacramento, though not to be lieutenant governor for long. Events that fed upon the jealous ambitions of men had moved quickly to change the scene, and Downey was soon Governor of California. The peculiar circumstances history had recorded as the outcome of the Terry-Broderick duel, though it might more aptly be called the Gwin-Broderick feud. Terry was the I gunman, but Gwin had been the chief antagonist in that violent struggle ! 50 ; that had so long rocked the state. Nevertheless, that fateful morn ing had left Broderick dead on the field, and a vacancy in the United States Senate. An interim appointee, Henry P. Haun, had filled out the time until the new legislature could meet in January. John B. Weller, lame-duck governor, had been a likely candidate, but he was passed over. Instead, Milton S. Latham, the governor-elect, had set about to get the appointment for himself. Thus, as Downey had written in his Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 81 autobiography, it had all been arranged before hand. Latham was I technically governor, and Downey had been president of the senate, i but only for five short days. During that time, Latham had completed "his plans to go to the next [^United States 1 Senate, and I then took my place as governor of the state. Hamilton had buried the hatchet, and, when Downey had returned home for an official visit in June, 1860, the city had turned out in a 52 gala celebration of the event. But peace had not returned to the political scene, in the county or in the state at large. Earnest efforts had been made to end the schism among the Democrats, and 53 Downey's "careful, economical, business administration" had done much to heal wounds still hurting from the previous year's struggle. But it had not been enough. Factionalism still had divided the party, and Kansas yet had been the troublesome issue. Early in 1860, a movement had attempted to bring the two wings of the party together. It had been another presidential year, but, this time, even more than usual had been at stake. Thus overtures had been made by the chivalry wing (as the pro-Southerners were being ! called), but the anti-Lecomptonites had declined to unite until the national nominating conventions had been held. As a consequence, two separate state conventions had been held as before, and opposing delegations had gone East to help choose the party nominees. When the choice had been made— Douglas and Popular Sover eignty versus Breckinridge and the Calhoun-Davis theory— all hopes for fusion had faded. Editorials had decried the opportunity that would surely fall to the Republicans, but the party had been irretrievably Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 82 split. To Lecompton Democrats, Douglas had been a no better choice than the poorest Republican; a traitor to democracy and a thief of Southern rights. Mass meetings and memorials had protested long and loudly against his treachery in Kansas. The Dred Scott decision, not popular sovereignty, was the "final solution . . . of the vexed 54 question of slavery in the territories." But to anti-Lecomptonites the issue had become something more than just a question of sectional rights in the territories. Now it was disunion that was at the bottom of the Charleston and Baltimore secession move ment. The dissolution of this government is the ultimate object proposed by the great champion and leaders of this faction. To this the true men of the South and the North, the East and the West will object. They will not only object— they will resist. They will dg more than this— they will overwhelm the disunion- ists . . . ^ Governor Downey had immediately declared himself for Douglas. He was a member of the chivalry wing of democracy, but he had never 56 favored secession. Ex-Governor Weller took his stand with Breckin ridge, and the sides had thus been defined. In the state convention, twenty-six delegates had lined up with Breckinridge, while ten had come out for Douglas. Senators Latham and Gwin wired their loyalty to slavocracy and the federal employees in California had followed suit, The state's Democratic newspapers had been almost evenly divid- 57 ed: twenty-four for Douglas and twenty-two for Breckinridge. In Los Angeles County the Democrats had hoped for an easier time of it than they had had in the rest of the state. With Downey in the governor'8 chair, local politics had returned to its former mold, and factionalism had been less a factor in local politics. Instead of Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. i the two conventions that had been held the previous year, in 1860 only I ■ one had been held. But, the honeymoon had been all too short. The emotional appeal of sectional politics had been too strong to resist, and former animosities had been whipped up anew. Thus, in 1861, two conventions had again been held, two delegations had gone their separate ways to Sacramento, and two tickets had been offered to the electorate. Brent and the regulars had chosen to support Breckinridge and Lane. Warner and the "bolters" had rallied behind Douglas and Johnson. Brent, himself, had not been a candidate for office, but had left it to others to front for the party. Andres Pico, recently in the assembly, had been the candidate for the senate, while Andrew J. King and George W. Gift had been nominated as Breckinridge candidates for the assembly. But the regulars had not left it there. They had been energetically active in the state convention as well. Not only had Brent been busy in his usual role as political manager, but E. J. C. Kewen and Antonio F. Coronel had been there also. When the state committee had been organized, Los Angeles County had been recognized for its importance and Kewen had been made a member. Moreover, when presidential electors had been chosen, Antonio F. 58 Coronel was among the number. All of this had augered good fortune for the party, said Henry Hamilton. Especially wise had been Coronel1s selection as a presidential elector. His name lent dignity to the party, Hamilton had felt, and would have especial appeal to the natives 59 in the Los Angeles community. But the Douglasltea had men of equal stature before the electo- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 84 rate. Don Juan Warner, long-time resident of the southern counties, had been no mean challenger of the regular hierarchy in the county. i Though he had sold his Southern Vineyard and had gone into the assem bly, his voice had been far from stilled.^ Neither had his influence been slight. A friend of the Indians, he had been equally a compadre to the native Californians. He had not been the only Douglas Democrat of distinction, either. Henry Melius, Mayor of Los Angeles had also supported Douglas. So had Abel Stearns.^ Then, as an additional balance to Coronel's influence in the Californio community, there had | come Don Pablo de la Guerra, presidential elector on the Douglas | ticket; a resident of Santa Barbara, to be sure, but neighbor and confident of the "ricos" of Los Angeles County. All of this had made no difference, said Henry Hamilton. No matter who the Douglasites had nominated, their chances of winning the election had not improved. Their loud mouthed boastings could be heard on the street and in every barroom, but there was no sound basis for their hopes. They might have Downey, Hamilton had conceded, but I ■ he was only a knight errant. Warner, and his fellows, he had dis missed without comment. Even the loss of Ezra Drown to the Douglas 62 i camp would have no real affect on the voters. The "real" Democrats ! had little to worry from them for, in the whole county, there was i hardly a precinct that had not gone solidly for Breckinridge. "We j will carry the state by the largest majority ever yet cast for a 63 ! Presidential ticket, was Hamilton s final prediction. Hamilton had been confident, but he should have been more worried. The opposition had been vociferous in its criticism, and had I I . ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. made telling blows. The Republicans had organized again, and were j I j 1 making their presence known. So, too, had the followers of Bell ‘ and Everett. Both contingents had Los Angeles residents as presiden- | tial electors: Antonio M. Pico for the Republicans and James H. Lander ! 64 1 for the Constitutional Unionists. But it was the Douglas Democrats i I j that had given the Breckinridge forces their worst concern. J. J. I Warner had made it especially rough on Andrew J. King, a Breckinridge hopeful for the state assembly. But, George W. Gift, his running mate, ( | had fared no better, as Warner had jibed and lampooned those defenders j of Southern slavocracy.^ Election day had seen the usual excitement as citizens were polled in the customary free-for-all fashion. When it was all over, and the ballots had been counted, Hamilton's predictions had proved to be correct for the way that Los Angeles County would vote on the national question, but had been sadly amiss for the state as a whole. Breckinridge had carried the county with a comfortable margin over Douglas--686 to 494. Even the Republicans whose last minute rally had given Hamilton some cause to fret about their temerity, had i ' garnered only 356 ballots, less than half as many as the victors. E Trailing behind all the rest were Bell and Everett, that ambivalent 66 duo, whose 201 votes had marked them as an also ran. The Breckinridge forces had won the electoral vote in Los Angeles, but it had been a moral victory at best. Andres Pico had made it to the senate, but his brother Democrats had not been so successful. Both King and Gift had gone down to defeat, and Stearns and Murray Morrison had gone to Sacramento in their stead. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 86 Such voter ambivalence is always a puzzle, and Hamilton had proved no more (nor less) able than modern analysts as he had tried to fathom the electors' minds before they entered the voting booth. In retrospect, the best that he had been able to do was to take com fort in the strength that his party had shown against the opposition. Both King and Gift had gone down to defeat, it had been true, but it 67 had taken a coalition to do it. In this the regulars could console themselves. But, when the state-wide results had finally told of the Republican victory, only a bare announcement was all that Hamilton had been able to make: "It is now conceded that Lincoln will carry the „68 state. But other Breckinridge men in the state had been aware of the dire implications written in the election results, and had had more to say than Hamilton. Ex-Governor Weller was one who had not been silent about the election and what it would mean if the Republicans won at the polls. Speaking in November just before election day, he had laid the matter clearly before the people: I do not know whether Lincoln will be elected or not; but I do know that if he is elected, and attempts to carry out his doctrine, the south will surely withdraw from the union; and I should consider them less than men if they did not. Thus the issue had been joined, and the nation awaited the fateful decision that had been long delayed. Lincoln was the focal point in the events that followed, but the decisions that he had finally made were not the initiating cause of the crises. Events and policies of the past had long presaged and shaped the issues between the sections. Kansas and popular sovereignty had only Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 87 reopened the ancient struggle and had brought it to its final climax. Out of the melange of factional interests and strife new loyalties and party alignments had been born. What the future would be had rested not only with Lincoln, but was written in the minds of many men--in Washington and in Montgomery. Los Angeles, and the nation, awaited the news that Sumter would bring. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 88 NOTES ^Judge Hayes to Edward M. Samuel, February 11, 1861, In Hayes, Pioneer Notes, pp. 253-256. 2 Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 31. The Whig platform had been virtually the same. Ibid., p. 35. 3 The census of 1860, taken after the territory had been legally open to slavery for six years, had shown only two slaves in Kansas. James G. Randall and David Donald, The Divided Union (Boston, 1961), p. 99. Hereafter cited as Randall and Donald, The Divided j Union. j ^Judge Hayes to Emma £ Mrs. M. Jefferson Thompson 1 ] , February i 14, 1861, in Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 256. ^"The Struggle Between Truth and Falsehood," from the Washing ton Union, with editorial comments by Hamilton, Los Angeles Star, October 11, 1856. ^Randall and Donald, The Divided Union, p. 97. 7 B. D. Wilson's plans to bring house servants from St. Louis was typical of many Southerners who imported slaves in the 1850's. Wilson to Margaret Wilson, September 26, 1856, Wilson Papers. More grandiose plans included colonization efforts by citizens of South Carolina and Florida who petitioned the legislature in 1852 for per mission to bring their "property" into California. Journal of the Proceedings of the Assembly, Third Session (1852), p. 159. 8 The Statutes of California. Third Session (1852), pp. 67- 69; Fourth Session (1853), p. 94; Fifth Session (1854), p. 30. ! 9 Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 23. | ^Randall and Donald, The Divided Union, p. 90. ^Davis, Political Conventions in California, pp. 39, 54. 12 i Peyton Hurt, "The Rise and Fall of 'Know-Nothingism' in ! California," California Historical Society Quarterly, IX (March, 1930), 16-49; (June, 1930), 97-128. Hereafter cited as Hurt, "Know- jNothingism in California." For nativism on the national level, see j John Higham, Strangers in the Land. Patterns of American Nativism, j 1860-1925 (New Brunswick, N.J., 1955). Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 89 13 Kewan's address before an American Mass Meeting, Orleans Hotel, Sacramento, August 8, 1855; editorial by Butts, Southern Californian (Los Angeles), August 29, 1855— both in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 27, Items 27 and 28. 14 Hurt, "Know-Nothingism in California," p. 38. 15Ibid., p. 25 16 Southern Californian, August 29, 1855, in Hayes Scrapbooks, Vol. 27, Item 28. ^ Ibid. Wilson and others, had been nominees on both the American and Independent tickets. 18 Hurt, "Know-Nothingism in California," p. 39. 19 William R. Butts, editor of the Southern Californian, had been considered for state printer, but he lost out to James Allen of the Marysville Herald. Hurt, "Know-Nothingism in California," p. 42. 20 Johnson: 556; Bigler: 923. Hurt, "Know-Nothingism in | California," p. 45. j 21 California Blue Book, 1909. pp. 565ff. 22Los Angeles Star, May 12, 1855, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 44, Item 127. 23 Hurt, "Know-Nothingism in California," p. 48. 24 Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 51. 25Ibid. 26 / 1 Fremont s nomination by the North Americans preceeded, and had much to do with, his selection as the first presidential candidate : for the new Republican Party. Hurt, "Know-Nothingism in California," p. 100. i 27 | Randall and Donald, The Divided Union, p. 103. ! 28 Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 63. 29 Randall and Donald, The Divided Union, p. 103. 30 Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 65. 31 Los Angeles Star, August 16; September 13, 1856. 32 El Clamor Publico (Los Angeles), October 25; November 1, 1856 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 90 33 Hurt, "Know-Nothingism in California," p. 47. 34 . / Official tally: Buchanan, 51,935; Fillmore, 35,133; Fremont, 20, 339. Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 74. 35 Democratic State Journal, January 6, 1857, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 27, Item 48, 36 Los Angeles Star, n.d., in ibid., Vol. 27, Item 47. 37 Barrows, "J. Lancaster Brent," p. 239. 38 Los Angeles Star, June 26, 1858, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 49, Item 50. 39 Los Angeles Star, July 17, 31, 1858, in ibid., Items 60, 62. 40 H. D. Barrows, "Memorial Sketch of Col. J. J. Warner," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, III (1895), 26; Barrows, "J. Lancaster Brent, p. 239; San Francisco Bulletin, June 14, 1859. 41 Los Angeles Star, June 27, 1857, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 50, Item 15. 42 Barrows, "J. Lancaster Brent," p. 239. 43 Los Angeles Star, June 11, 1859, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 44, Items 25, 26. Barrows referred to Downey's faction as "the shadowy 17," but with the four disputed delegates they had been a majority. Davis, Political Conventions in California, pp. 86-87. 45 Ibid., p. 105 46 Oscar Tully Shuck, MS from an article in the San Francisco Star, February 6, 1886, Bancroft Library; Bancroft, Downey, p. 1. Hancock Johnson was reported to have been offered the lieutenant governship but would have nothing to do with Latham's proposition. Los Angeles Herald, April 13, 1879, and (a reprint version) in the San Francisco Post, April . . . , 1879, in Bancroft Scraps, Vol. 30, p. 90. 47 / Rubio's name had been put on the ballot to embarrass "el notario Doctor John G. Downey," W. 0. Waters, "Los Angeles Imprints," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XIX (June, 1937), 69. Hereafter cited as Waters, "Los Angeles Imprints." Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 91 48 Latham (Lecompton), 62,255; Curry (Anti-Lecompton), 31,298; Stanford (Republican), 10,110. Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 108. 49 Los Angeles Star, September 1, 17, 1859. 50 A quick summary of the Gwin-Broderick rivalry is given by C'ieland, A History of California: American Period, pp. 350-355, but a more scholarly analysis has been done by David A. Williams, David C. Broderick. A Political Portrait (San Marino, 1969). Williams con- cluded that Terry's involvement-with Broderick had been more personal than political, but that friends of Senator Gwin, particularly Calhoun Benham, had forced the issue to the "field of honor." If it had not been Terry, any of a long line of Chivalry Democrats would have taken up the challenge. Downey, Autobiography. Also Sessions, "Downey," p. 5. 52 Los Angeles Star, January 21, 1860, reported the spontaneous celebration of Downey's "election." See ibid., June 7, 1860, for an account of the welcome given on his first visit home as governor. 53 James J. Ayer, Gold and Sunshine, Reminiscences of Early California (Boston, 1922), p. 193. Hereafter cited as Ayer, Reminis cences. 54 Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 113. 55 Ibid., p. 115. 56 Ayer, Reminiscences, p. 193. "^Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 113. 58 Ibid., p. 123. 59 A succinct summary of the 1860 campaign in Los Angeles County is given by W. B. Rice (J. W. Caughey, ed.), The Los Angeles Star, 1851-1864. The Beginnings of Journalism in Southern California (Berkeley, 1957), pp. 209-211. Hereafter cited as Rice, Los Angeles Star. 60 Charles Conway and Alonzo Waite bought Warner s Southern Vineyard and merged it with the assets of the old Southern Californian and El Clamor Publico to form the Semi-Weekly Southern News. Subse quently, their paper had gone through several name changes before settling down as the Los Angeles News. Until it was sold to Andrew J. King, their paper had been the major opposition to Hamilton's Star and the Democrats. Cf. Rice, Los Angeles Star, pp. 134-141. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 92 Steam's position was ambivalent at the time. Rice, Los Angeles Star, p. 211, noted him as a Douglas Democrat, and the Cali fornia Blue Book (1909) p. 647, listed him as such. But, Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 116, included him, with Antonio M. Pico, as a member of the Republican convention in 1860. ^Ezra Drown had resigned from the county committee when his resolution for Douglas had been tabled in favor of B. D. Wilson's proposal supporting BrecTcinridge. The Los Angeles Star, August 11, September 29, October 27, 1860. 63Ibid., October 27, I860. 64 Davis, Political Conventions in California, pp. 116, 125. 65 Waters, "Los Angeles Imprints," p. 74. 66 Semi-Weekly Southern News, November 7, 1860; Los Angeles Star, November 10, 1860. Guinn, Record of Los Angeles, p. 183, gave slightly different figures— Breckinridge 703 instead of 686. 67 Los Angeles Star, November 10, 1860, 68 Ibid. 69 Address, San Jose, October 1860, as in Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 127. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER IV j POST-SUMTER: WHITHER CALIFORNIA? Abraham Lincoln had been elected and the dire predictions of j the Southern fire-eaters were then in the offing. No overt threats of Black Republicanism had come from the president-elect, but the nulli- i | fiers had not waited his words or actions. Almost immediately, the i legislature of South Carolina had called for a sovereign convention to I sever its connection with the Federal Union. This action, soon | followed by sister states in the lower South, had led ultimately to ; the Montgomery convention and the Confederate States of America. I Los Angeles, like all of California, had read the news of these | events with fore-boding for the future. The Union was breaking up, ! and, if they had read the signs correctly, its rupture could hardly | be accomplished without the brutal surgery of war. Horace Greeley had urged "Let the erring sisters go I" but it was not to be. Neither had there been any amiable division of common property, for the ideological ! struggle knew no positive geographic limits. Thus, as the great debate i j on secession had raged in the upper South, and, especially, in the I ' states of Missouri, Kentucky and Virginia, so it had also tested the I loyalties of faraway Californians. Which way, if it came to the ! ultimate question, would California go? | At the outset of the national crisis, stunned disbelief seemed 93 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. to have been the common reaction among Los Angeles residents. The j impending danger had been discussed by everyone, but in tones of j i subdued awe. It was almost a general understanding, said Judge Hayes, that irritating points of controversy were being consciously avoided in ! private conversations. Even the local press seemed to have tacitly i 1 | agreed to treat the crisis with words of dignity and soberness. It i i ! was the traditional lull before the storm, and Los Angeles had been I 1 going about its business in tip-toe fashion, awaiting whatever news j the telegraph would bring. Some had hoped for concessions by last minute appeals to reason, but many, like Judge Hayes, could only see I ! calamity in the future. "We look every moment for the commencement I of hostilities. None, I suppose, would be surprised to learn tomorrow ; or the next day that Fort Sumter had been stormed-.or that the Capital ! 2 i had been taken." i I Such possibilities, with all their portents for civil war, 1 3 ; had made Hayes "sick at heart." He had loved the Union and the "Star Spangled Banner" with all its symbolic overtones. Nevertheless, he was a Southern man, and if "worst came to worst," his associates 4 in Maryland and Missouri would know the course he would follow. Others, he knew, were so inclined, and if a choice had to be made, would not turn their backs on former friends.^ The cannons had roared, and Sumter fell, as Los Angeles learned by telegraph on Wednesday, April 24, 1861. The "fate of the Union" had been sealed, and California could no longer put off 6 its decision. Benjamin Hayes had been able to resolve his personal dilemma Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 95 over Sumter and had declared himself a Union man, but he could not ■ predict what other Californians would do. But, as he had explained { to his New York friend, Judge Samuel, there was no question in his I mind what they ought to do: "California should keep aloof from this contest, and devote herself in quiet— remote as she is from this i | theatre of warring interest— to the steady advancement of her own domestic prosperity, This had been the natural response, a first reflex against j | threatened violence which was no part of their making. California I i was a long way from the scenes of conflict, and the stress of circumstances could only increase the distance. Already neglected by the nation's preoccupation with Eastern problems, its people could not help but be ignored and further isolated, i Consequently, Hayes had not been alone when he had disregarded filial ties and cast his lot on the side of non-involvement. Neutral ity was being urged on every hand. California was too cosmopolitan 8 to take sides, it was argued; it must remain a spectator. Neither should any attempt be made to enforce her participation— either -for i ' the North or for the South— for this could bring only bloody conse- 9 quences. Rather, said Henry Hamilton, "[We should ] consider well our position . . . look our affairs squarely in the face . . . and in a calm review of our circumstances, and capabilities, take our stand . . . Shall we strike for independence— or, like whipped spaniels, o ..1 0 crawl at the feet of either a Southern or Northern Confederacy?" The first proposals for California to take an Independent course of action are supposed to have originated with Senators Latham Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 96 and Gwin in Washington City. As reported in the Alta California, Latham had sounded the call for a western confederation in a ringing protest that California should not trust the management of its affairs to either the North or the South. "We have resources not possessed by any other State of the Union, while our population comprises the most enterprising and energetic men of the country . . . abundantly able to do for ourselves." "The Union, 1 1 echoed Senator Gwin, "I hope . . . will be imperishable; but if it is ever broken up, the eastern boundary of the Pacific Republic will be, in my opinion, the Sierra Madres and the Rocky Mountains''*^ Latham and Gwin may have sounded the call for a Pacific Republic, but the idea had not originated with them. Rather it had been a Los Angeles resident, Volney E. Howard, who was the architect of the plan--8o said General James A. McDougall in an address before the Sacramento assembly. Speaking as a candidate for the United States Senate, he had exposed the plan and had identified Howard as the person who had "issueCdU a carefully prepared paper laying down 12 a definite scheme" for the Pacific Republic. i In its essence, the plan was as follows: California would unite with Oregon and the Territory of Washington to form the nucleus of the Pacific Republic. The Mormons of Utah and residents of the southwest were also expected to join; perhaps even Hawaii and parts of northern Mexico. All told, the area would have equalled the balance of the Republic as it then existed. Its total population had been estimated at 602,0Q0--California,s 500,000 would form the 13 bulk, with the remainder coming mainly from Oregon and Utah. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 97 However, this had only been the beginning. Once it had been established, the Pacific Republic would become the beacon for a mass migration to California and the West. Friends in the East, particu larly former residents of the Pacific Coast, had been expecting— and hoping— that California would take an independent course of action. One of these was Dr. James P. McFarland, Downey's old partner in the drug business, then living in Lebanon, Tennessee. Sectional feeling had solidified attitudes against the North so much that, in Mc Farland's opinion, there was no longer any hope of compromise and reconstruction. War had become inevitable, and many people would welcome an opportunity to get out before the trouble started. Conse quently, McFarland had written to Benjamin D. Wilson: I hope to hear you have formed a Separate Republic on the Pacific. Such a move would tend more to populate your state than anything else. Thousands would then crowd to your State and settle your valies [sic 1. . . 1 could myself bring a hundred families out there.^ Thus the idea had been encouraged. It caught on, not only in Los Angeles, but throughout the state. Locally, Hayes had been joined by Henry Hamilton who had filled his columns in support of the pro- 15 ject. Both men had been enthusiastic at the prospects, Hamilton likening them to the wisdom of local separatist plans that would have brought statehood to the southern counties of California.^ San Francisco newspapers also picked up the discussion. Two of them— the Daily Alta California and the Bulletin— expressed an early in terest in the proposal, though they soon had become disillusioned.^ Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission 98 18 However, the San Francisco Herald had gone all out for the project. Its editors had been Howard’s entree to the northern part of the state, and he had kept the Herald full of explanations of his proposal— how it would be organized, how it could be financed, and the benefits 19 that would accrue to Californians. Throughout all of the discussion, both by Howard and others, a central theme had been emphasized: a plea for a sane, unemotional evaluation of the merits of the Pacific Re public idea.^ Other areas in the state had caught the spirit of Howard's ideas, some of them with more enthusiasm than the residents of Los 21 Angeles. San Jose had been one of the major centers of activity, but Marysville was so strongly in favor of the Republic that it had 22 had a going organization that had held regular meetings. It was in Stockton, however, where the most flagrant display of separatism had occurred: a flag was raised-blazoned with the words PACIFIC REPUBLIC-- 23 to proclaim the actuality of the new "state" of the west. To many in California, the flag incident had been a fitting comment on the silly, impractical nature of the proposed republic. A Sonora editor expressed a common view when he had reported that "some ignoramus . . . raised the Bear Flag in Stockton" in tones that had suggested the ludicrous nature of the event. Immediately, the Stars and Stripes had been raised to every flag pole in town as 2* a silent rebuke. Duncan Beaumont, surveyor of San Joaquin County, 25 was identified as the culprit, but the whole affair had not been treated as a Joke. The loyal opposition was in earnest. "Not a corporal's guard in the whole state would not be ashamed if such an Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 99 26 act was done in earnest." It may have been a cause £or laughter in Stockton, but it was j a more serious matter to Henry Hamilton in Los Angeles. He had taken personal offense at the Sonoran's light-hearted treatment of the incident, particularly to the suggestion that only a "corporal's guard" would support the Pacific Republic. Later, when Senator Latham had had second thoughts and had uttered similar remarks depreciating the idea, Hamilton had not been able to contain himself, but had I | burst forth in loud protest. Not only would Latham find five hundred j men in California favorable to the Pacific Republic ides, but he would | i find more! Moreover, Hamilton had added in a postscript (and here he I | may have let himself go a bit farther than he may have intended), "nor do we think he will find a corporal's guard in all these southern ! , »27 counties who will go with the North, any event whatsoever. I Such bellicose statements as by Hamilton, coupled with reports | | of military companies being organized in support of the Pacific Re public, had caused many early supporters to lose their enthusiasm for the project. Hamilton's opposition editor, Charles Conway, reported the drift of events, and had warned his readers to be on guard lest rumors became realities. Treason was stalking the land, and patriots needed to be alert or demagogues would seize control of 28 the state. Los Angeles had been one of the counties where local military units were organizing. Acting in response to calls from the county Judge, William G. Dryden, two companies had been mustered in, officers elected in the usual frontier fashion, and arms had been requisition- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 100 29 ed from the state. H. N. Alexander captained the first of these unit8, the Los Angeles Greys, but, eventually, he had resigned his commission because the company had failed to muster enough support to continue. It was an entirely different story for the Los Angeles Mounted Rifles. Organized in March, just a few weeks after the other company, they had quickly rallied around Alonzo Ridley, under-sheriff of the county, and had built such an imposing force as to cause con siderable excitement in the city. Alexander's Greys had been con sidered by most of the citizens to be a safe and loyal unit, but the community had begun to feel a bit uneasy about the Mounted Rifles. Ridley's men had created such a noise by their comings and goings that rumor had aroused all kinds of suspicions. Consequently, an investigation had been demanded, and Ridley was called before the United States Grand Jury. In reporting the event, Henry Hamilton had scorned the charges and had treated the whole affair with the sarcastic hyperbole that was his stock-in-trade: Several were dragged before the Inquisition and examined; yesterday our worthy under-sheriff, captain of the dreaded company was subpoened to their presence, but disregarding their mandate, the U. S. Grand Jury found themselves non-plussed and ended the farce, by squelching their "report" and crawling out of court. Though the investigation had ended in a fiasco for the "pa triots" of Los Angeles, and no connections had been established with Pacific Republic ambitions, the event had had a salutory effect on the community nevertheless. Many exuberant spirits, formerly enthusiastic for California independence, began to have sobering second thoughts about what their pretentions might bring. Even Senator Latham had Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 101 already admitted that he had been premature in suggesting that Call- 31 fornla might leave the Union. Others, too, in Los Angeles, and I throughout the state, had reversed themselves and denied the wisdom of Howard's proposals. As the tide of opinion began to change, arguments against the proposal had picked up momentum until the whole scheme had been ex posed as a futile bit of political fantasy. Editorial warnings and grand jury investigations, as in Los Angeles, undoubtedly had had their dampening effect on irrational enthusiasm. Of equal effect had i j been the sarcastic treatment that papers like the Sonora Democratic Age had heaped upon the ignoramus of the Bear Flag incident. But for its profound exposition on the innate weaknesses in the whole Pacific Republic idea, none had been more incisive, nor coldly logical, than the careful analysis by the two San Francisco papers, J:he Alta Cali fornia , and the Bulletin. Writing under the title of "The Pacific Confederacy Humbug," the editors of the Alta California had torn into Howard's arguments, exposed his extravagant claims on population, finance, and supposed advantages of independence. It was all humbug, a burlesque upon disunion that would leave California open to every imaginable ill and danger: financial bankruptcy with inadequate revenues to establish and maintain a government; an exposed shore line fifteen hundred miles long in the face of an anxious France and a greedy England waiting at Vancouver Island; a reluctant Southwest teeming with Apaches and Comanches— a region rumored going with the 32 Confederacy anyway. This was all madness, the San Francisco Bulletin had echoed. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 102 California had too much to lose by striking out for itself--too much to gain by remaining close to the old Union. Her proper course was to remain aloof, not as Hayes had recommended, but as Downey had urged in his governor's message on Federal Relations, It was folly to suppose that California desired a separation from the Union, Downey had said. Rather, like the loyal elements struggling in the border states of Maryland, Virginia, Kentucky, and Missouri, the voice of California should be for mediation. This, Downey had argued all through his message, was the proper position that the state should take. The high estimation in which California was held by both sections (her citizens being a veritable congress of the old states of the original confeder- 33 acy) fitted her well for that position. Downey's call for delay--and mediation— had been received with mixed emotions. To some, like Charles R. Street, militant editor of the Marysville Express and deeply committed to the Pacific Republic, the speech had only been a cloak to hide Downey's political ambitions; 34 an opportunity for him to ride into the United States Senate. To others, particularly to the editors of the Alta California, the message had brought a welcome relief. This had been the kind of encouragement that was needed to still the anxieties of those whose opinions had not yet been solidified. Street, himself, had suggested that the public sentiment was pretty evenly divided on the question, but he knew, as did the editors of the Alta California, that many on the side lines had been awaiting such direction that would be given. Downey's opinion, and the prestige that his office carried, would do much to sway the undecided. Even so, the real test would come in the legisla- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 103 ture, as both editors well knew. So, Instead of wasting energy and j ink in futile debate, it would be better to concentrate on the fall I elections. Let there be slates for state offices prepared, both editors had advised in almost the same breath. Let the voters choose rs elect men for or against the Union. But the elections were too far away and the public had not been ! 1 willing to wait so long for a decision so vital to their future. I Neither were the legislators, presently elected, constrained to wait, j | but had already entered into lively debate on the state of the union. ; Local issues were practically forgotten in the flood of motions and j j I | counter-motions that offered direction to the course that California I 36 | should take in the crisis. ! The opening attack— a keynote for loyallsm— had been sounded i j ; on January 18th, several weeks after the Star of the West sailed up I ------ the Charleston estuary. Charles E. DeLong, Douglas Democrat from j Yuba, in a speech before the senate, had soundly denounced the idea | of a Pacific Republic, and called for California to remain loyal to the Union. It was true, DeLong had said, that California was a long way from her sister states in the East, and that its peculiar cir cumstances made its position somewhat unique, but "any other confedera- : cy than our present union . . . [was3 fraught with all the danger and 37 mischief of treason." | DeLong'8 declaration, particularly the denunciation of the ! Pacific Republic, had expressed the attitude that had become increas- ! ingly popular in a major part of the state. Generally speaking, as I I the tone of individuals and editorial comment had indicated, sympathy Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 104 for any separatist movement was on the wane. Even those who were still recommending that California ought to remain neutral, the better to perform the offices of a mediator, were having trouble getting a hearing. At the same time, the clouds of war, with the ominous thunder of Sumter's guns, had driven fear into the hearts of those who loved the Union. Those who had been frightened by what was happening were not just the administration Republicans who would respond in the normal | way of politics, for the crisis had cut across party lines, and had > excited the Democrats as well. In fact, said the platform framers for i | the Douglas state committee, the issue no longer was a matter for j partisan politics. It had become a question of national survival, | and any one who attempted to distract the people or divert their j attention from the real danger "is not true to the country nor worthy I 38 of the name of an American citizen." Such language suggests what had happened as California had faced the moment of decision. Not only had the Douglas Democrats begun to call themselves "Union" Democrats, but they had sounded more like Republicans every day. Even some followers of Breckinridge, finally aware of the dark implications of what the secessionists had really intended, had fallen away from that faction and had drifted into ranks considered more loyal. Union clubs were organized through out the state. All groups and shades of opinion had been represented, for few seemed to worry about former affiliations in this first rush to declare loyalty to the federal union. Fusion was the word to describe what had happened, and it had Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 105 I been In the air as the politicians had made their plans for the coming j conventions. But "getting together" had not resulted in a reunion of j the two wings of the Democratic Party. Late in April, notices had been circulated among the legislators, suggesting that the Breckinridge State Committee hold its meeting at the same time and place as the Douglas Democrats. Both committees gathered in San Francisco on the appointed day (May 7th), but no joint meeting had been held. The Breckinridge forces had repeated their overtures to unite the party, but were rudely rejected. As far as the Douglas men were concerned, the time for talk had passed. "No negotiations will be entered 39 into!" Thus rebuffed, the Breckinridge Committee had gone ahead with plans to hold their own convention. Calls were sent out to the counties to elect delegates, and, subsequently, they had gathered at Sacramento on Tuesday, June 11, 1861. The convention leaders were men of talent, long experienced in the affairs of state politics. For Los Angeles County, J. Lancaster Brent had been there, working tire lessly in his usual role behind the scenes. So had been Volney E. i ' Howard, still pushing his separatist schemes as a member of the committee on resolutions. El Monte's E. J. C. Kewen had filled out the three-member delegation from the county. He, like Brent and Howard, had been equally at home in the party's leadership circle. When California had first been organized, Kewen had been the state's attorney general. Since then, he had kept his hand in politics, though he had not been elected to another office until he and Henry Hamilton had gone to the fourteenth assembly in 1863. Nevertheless, Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 106 he was veil known and well liked, especially as an orator at political 40 rallies, a function that he performed with exceptional ability. On the whole, however, the gathering had not been remarkable, especially for its size. Not only had the delegates been slow in gathering, but many of the counties had failed to send representatives at all. Consequently, the work of the convention had proceeded slowly, but not without purpose. That purpose, soon apparent in the debates on policy, had been evidence enough to indict the party: Californians-for- Breckinridge were not just anti-administration; they were secessionists as well. That position had not been easily reached, as reports on the convention gave ample testimony. A strong minority had tried to blunt the force of secessionist pressure, and had warned against any pre cipitous action by the delegates. They had found no quarrel with the basic right of people to change their government in the traditional mode of representative democracies, but they had denied the right of secession except for "good and sufficient cause." There had been cause grievance, they had been ready to admit— denial of Southern rights in the territories and non-enforcement of the fugitive slave act— but, these conditions had not warranted the extreme measures that South Carolina had taken. Moreover, it had been hasty and presump- tious to proceed with the Montgomery Convention without proper con sultation with the other members of the union. No state, the minority report had argued in a tone reminiscent of Jackson in 1832, had the right to withdraw from the union without the consent of three-fourths of its members. To act otherwise, no matter the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 107 provocation, was not an exercise In political liberty; it was a viola tion of a sacred trust, a denial of the inherent "duty of all citizens to uphold the constitution and the laws in support thereof." Then, in a final statement that had rejected the nullifiers out-of-hand, the minority members had declared "That California is unalterably attached to the union of the United States and C with an added slap at Howard's separatist schemes] that she repudiates and spits upon the «41 idea of a Pacific Republic. Such statements, to men like Howard, Brent and Kewen, steeped as they were in the traditions of Calhoun's states' rights, had not been merely unacceptable, but they were completely untenable in their basic assumptions. No union could exist, as desirable as it might be, except on the basis of justice between the sections. Nothing short of a clear-cut guarantee— constitutional measures of the type proposed by the Crittendon Compromise— would serve as the basis for continuing the union. Failing that, there was only one course that the South could take: secession and independence. Any other action would be cowardly and dishonorable. It would be giving into coercion, to the despotic |rule of the usurper's lash. | But all of these words were wasted debate, for the South had seceded, and the Confederacy was a reality. Thus, reasoned Howard and his fellow militants, all that California could do was to recognize the South for the separate country that it was. If there was to be peace in the land, it could come only through negotiation and treaty, not by acquiescing to Northern demands. Thus the issue had been joined, but the decision did not come Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Toff easily, even though the Howard's had been in the majority when the committee had made its report to the full convention. Waves and counterwaves had swept the hall as the debate had continued for two hectic weeks. Finally, an attempt had been made to conciliate the differences so that a platform could be adopted. To this end, a special committee was appointed to study the various resolutions and amendments, and to report its recommendations. On June 24, the committee came before the convention and made its report: "that this convention does not intend in its platform to express any opinion whatever on the right of secession . . . and . . . we see no reason 42 for any further declaration of our loyalty to the union." Such ambivalence had been an obvious attempt to side-step the real issue, and the Unionists had not been deceived. Howard and his friends could talk all they wanted to about neutrality and mediation, but it had been no use. The newspapers had been full of the convention debate, and everyone could well remember the hot-headed speakers who had poured secessionism over the heads of the delegates early in the convention. Of all those given, none had been more deliberate than j that given by Edmund Randolph, emigre from Virginia, then a representa tive from San Francisco. If there had been any doubt before, there was no question of purpose when Randolph had gotten through speaking. He intended for the convention to join cause with the secessionists and to take California into the Confederacy. My thoughts and my heart are not here with you tonight in this house. Far to the east, in the homes from which we came, tyranny and usurpation, with arms in its hands, is this night, perhaps, slaughtering our fathers, our brothers, and our sisters, and outraging our homes in every conceivable way shocking to the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission 109 heart of humanity and freedom. To me, it seems a waste of time to talk. For God's sake, tell me of battles fought and won. Tell me of the usurper's overthrown; that Missouri is a free state, no ' longer crushed under the armed heel of a reckless, and odious despot. Tell me that the state of Maryland lives again; and, oh, let us read, let us hear, at the first moment that not one hostile foot now treads the soil of Virginia (applause and cheers). If this be rebellion, then I am a rebel. Do you want a traitor, then I am a traitor? For God's sake speed the ball; may the lead be quick to his heart, and may our country be free from this despot usurper that now claims the name of the president of the United States (cheers).^ Obviously the outpourings of an over-wrought, emotional dis turbed zealot, Randolph's tirade had not lacked substance to those in j ! sympathy with his cause. Other speakers had not let passion seize J | their tongue so violently, but, nevertheless, they had been as deeply i | committed to his theme. Thus, it is not strange to read Henry Hamil- I ton'8 view that Los Angeles would take up the cause of Southern Rights 1 in the face of the call for troops. How could they do anything else, i , he had asked. "We are on the highway to and from the South; our j population are Cstc] from the South, and sympathize with her. Why I then should we turn our backs on our friends and join their enemies to invade, impoverish, and despoil them?" J. Lancaster Brent had felt the same way as Hamilton, and soon activated his beliefs by going to Dixie. Howard and Kewen were of an equal mind, though neither left the state during the war. Both had continued their political activity, and were prominent members of the "Chivalry Wing" of the Democratic Party. Kewen was the more vocal of the two, and had been easily recognized as the "head and heart" of the local secessionist element. At one time, his loud tongue had become so obnoxious, that the authorities had taken notice, and he had been Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 110 arrested for disloyalty.^ Howard had been more circumspect, and had avoided arrest, but his views had been just as strong for the South. Even the outcome of the war did not change them, for, as late as 1867, he was still arguing that the South had been justified in secession; that Black Republicanism had driven it to the wall in the territories, and that its only hope for survival had been to strike for lndepend- 46 ence. Outspoken sentiments like these had left no doubt where the Howards and the Kewens had stood on the great issue before California. At the same time, Hamilton had made it easier to know his mind as he had become more vocal and unrestrained. Increasingly his columns had argued the injustice of coercion and a defense of Southern Rights. His warnings of the calamitous results of such a policy had left little question where his sympathies had lain. Neither had it been difficult to ascertain the attitudes of the opposition, for it, too, had been vocal--on the street corners, and in the public press. Charles R. Conway had been editor of the Semi-Weekly Southern News. Despite the incongruity of the paper's masthead, Conway had been no friend of the South's action at Montgomery, and had re mained, throughout the war, an outspoken critic of secession. Conse quently, he had kept up a running fight with the Los Angeles Star, defending the Lincoln administration against all that Hamilton could hurl against it. But with all that had been happening locally and statewide, there were yet two opinions that had not been declared--General Albert Sidney Johnston, commander of the Pacific Division, United States Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Ill Army, and John G. Downey, governor of California. General Johnston was not, as was Downey, a resident of Los Angeles County, but, through personal connections, he had been oriented to that part of the state. His wife, Eliza, was a sister to John S. Griffin, Los Angeles physi cian; Griffin, in turn, was married to Louisa Hayes, sister to Judge Benjamin I. Hayes. Through this in-law relationship, Johnston had become friends with Benjamin D. Wilson and other members of the Los 47 Angeles chivalry community. Irrespective of legal residence, these two men, by virtue of their respective offices, had been outstandingly significant for the symbol and power of their respective positions. Had they been won over to their cause, the Californian secessionists may have gone a long way to taking the state with them into the Confederacy. Rumors of what the secessionists might do had grown apace with events in Dixie as the Confederates had seized one federal in stallation after another. Local Unionists could not help but worry, expecially when armed companies had begun to drill throughout the counties. Anxieties had fed upon the fear that these forces, or ganized ostensibly for home defense, were the intended tools of militant secessionists. The first step would be to set up the Pacific Republic; then actively to join the Confederacy. The plot, if there really ever was a serious plan, is quickly told. It centers in the person of Asbury Harpending and other rabid Southerners who had made common cause with the Knights of the Golden Circle. How closely associated the Californians had become with the national organization is difficult to fathom, but the local Secession- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 112 ists had had like ambltlons->to swing California Into the Southern orbit, and with It, as much of the Southwest as they might persuade. To achieve their objective, the Knights had organized chapters ; throughout the state. One such unit was reputedly operating in Los i 4 8 | Angeles County with headquarters in El Monte. Statewide, their i membership was estimated as over twelve thousand men.^ This could I j have been a powerful force, if properly organized and directed by i capable leadership. This leadership, Harpending and his co-conspira- tors had hoped to find in the person of Albert Sidney Johnston, j Acting upon the assumption of his Southern sympathies, a I committee of three had approached General Johnston in San Francisco, explained the plan, and had asked for his cooperation. Not only was l Johnston to throw in with the secessionists, but he had been expected to aid them in taking over Fort Point, Fort Alcatraz, the navy yard at Mare Island, the arsenal at Benicia, and the installations at the Presidio. Rumors of the plot had already become known in San Francisco even before the supposed meeting with Johnston. The secessionists had talked to Sheriff Duane of San Francisco County, a long time resident of the South, who they had expected to side with them in plotting the Pacific Republic scheme. Unfortunately for the secessionists, Sheriff Duane was a Union man who had been able to keep his true feelings hidden as they had opened their plans and asked his aid. Instead of cooperating, he had reported the plot to Colonel James D. Stevenson. Stevenson, in turn, had approached David Scannel, chief of the San Francisco Fire Department. Stevenson Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 113 had known that the San Francisco firemen had been organized into semi-military units that had been holding regular drill and target practice. Thus, he had felt confident that these units could be of singular help in the event of an insurrection. Together, then, Stevenson and Scannel had hatched a counter-plan: at the sound of the firebell, one thousand armed men would spring forward to defend the city. Stevenson had next gone to General Johnston, told him of the secessionist plot, and of his own plans to thwart them. Johnston, j instead of turning aside Stevenson's information as of no consequence, had told him, while thanking him, that he had heard rumors of such goings-on but that Stevenson's information was the first real evidence that he could use. He further had told Stevenson that he had not called out his troops previously for fear of the effect on the public. However, orders had been received that very morning authorizing him to take whatever action the situation demanded. Following Stevenson's visit to the Presidio, Johnston had gathered troops into strategic places so as to protect the public I buildings. Then, as an added precaution, he had moved arms from the exposed arsenal at Benicia to the more defensible Fort Alcatraz. Furthermore, General Johnston had gone out of his way to inform Governor Downey of what he had done, and told him, in the event of an insurrection of the type that had been rumored, that federal arms would be at the disposal of the state militia.^ Thus, Johnston had been well aware of the substance, if not the details of what the California secessionists had intended before Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 114 they had ever come to him with their proposition. Even so, he may have been vulnerable— at least Harpending and his fellows had been j inclined to think so. Johnston had already resigned his commission, | as early as the ninth of April, but he had kept it a secret pending its acceptance by Washington. Acknowledgement of his request had not yet come, so he had continued in his command without making public any indication of the decisions that he might already have made. Yet, as the conspirators had known well, he was a "state-rights" man, i j Southern by birth, and an adopted son of Texas. Such a combination, to Harpending and Randolph, could mean only one thing: a natural born l secessionist and a loyal son of the Confederacy. But the meeting I with Johnston had hardly gotten started before their hopes had been j rudely shattered. Interrupting their beginning overtures, Johnston ' had declared his position, without ceremony or apology: ! There is something I want to mention. I have heard foolish j talk about an attempt to seize the strongholds of the government under my charge. Knowing this, I have prepared for emergencies, i and will defend the property of the United States with every resource in my command, and with the last drop of blood in my ! body. Tell that to all our Southern friends.* • Johnston's frank statement of loyalty had come as a shock to the conspirators. So stunned had they been, remembered Harpending in . his own reminiscences of the affair, that they had hardly been able to carry on a conversation for the rest of the hour that they had been with Johnston. Disheartened and disillusioned by the loss of what they had considered a sure bet for success, they had taken their leave of Johnston— and the project, which they abandoned soon thereafter. Edmund Randolph was reported by Harpending to have made a Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 115 personal attempt to revive the scheme, and had gone a second time to see Johnston. What transpired Is not known, but It is out of this circumstance that the "myth" of Johnston's disloyalty is supposed to have arisen. Randolph, the victim of a diseased mind, had become so infuriated at Johnston's refusal that he had circulated the news of the conspirators' plot and of Johnston's supposed involvement. Be sides telling everyone who would listen, he may even have written to President Lincoln to set in motion the final moves that saw General 52 Edwin A. Sumner come to San Francisco as Johnston's replacement. Arguments pro and con regarding Johnston's disloyalty--and who was responsible for his exposure— have been debated both by his con- 53 temporaries and by latter-day historians. Of all that has been written, that which was read when a monument was placed over his grave at the Texas State Cemetery in Houston is, perhaps, the most accurate appraisal of his personal dilemma: While believing that the South had a grievance, he was a Union man in sentiment and did not believe that secession was the remedy for the wrongs. Still his heart was in Texas, and as soon as he heard of the secession of the Lone Star State, he resigned his position although the highest places in the i Union Army were within easy reach of his ambition . . . Nevertheless, before he had gone across the desert to Texas, he had remained loyal to his trust, despite all of the stories to the contrary. General Sumner had had ample opportunity to investigate the situation when he came out to San Francisco, and he had found no cause to question Johnston's behavior while he had been in command at the Presidio. In Sumner's estimation, "General Johnston is a soldier, a gentleman, and an honorable man; he is incapable of betraying a Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 116 trust. He has tendered his resignation as he cannot take up arms 1 against his people C in the SouthD and he tends to hold aloof in the war ..." However, Sumner had not been quite sure that Johnston could stay out of it. "I am afraid he cannot . . . for against his inclinations and wishes, he will be forced by his Southern relations to aid them in their cause. Sumner's judgment of Johnston seems perceptive, particularly when viewed against the background of his behavior in the two months following his resignation. For awhile, after relinquishing his command to Sumner, Johnston had dallied in the Bay area, seemingly not knowing which way to turn. He had leased a house from Caspar T. Hopkins, and was concerned about the rent because of his straightened circumstances. He had approached Hopkins on the matter, and, while he was about it, he had brought up the subject of possible employment. Hopkins thought about this episode when, in later years, he had gotten around to writ ing his reminiscences, and he had wondered if a job in California 56 would have forestalled Johnston's decision to go South. Captain William A. Winder was of the same mind when (also in later years) he had written to Colonel James G. Stevenson of Johnston's problem. It had been Winder's conviction that Johnston's inability to go into business had been a major factor in his ultimate decision. This, plus the deep chagrin at being falsely accused at the time, had driven him 57 South, and into the ranks of the Confederacy. When he had made up his mind to go, Johnston had taken his family to visit his wife's relatives in Los Angeles. Even here, Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 117 Johnston had seemed in no great hurry, but had been happy to visit his many friends in the community. What he really did, during the six I weeks before he left for Texas, had been the subject of considerable speculation, particularly because, during that time, he had mingled so closely with the secessionist element in the Los Angeles area. Some say that he had been actively recruiting for the Confederate 58 forces. Perhaps he did. The opportunity was certainly there. The local secesh had already been meeting--some 200 strong— and the hot heads were clamoring for a Confederate take-over of Los Angeles and | the southern counties. But Johnston had given them no encouragement. To the contrary, when they had come to him with their propositions, as Alonzo Ridley had done, Johnston had turned them down just as 59 firmly aa he had when approached by Harpending. His constant advice to Ridley and all other Confederate sympathizers had been "if they wanted to fight, to go South, and not to stir up trouble here."^ Thus, when Johnston had made his decision, and had gone South to join the Confederacy, he had not taken the state with him--only twenty-five men, instead.^ Ridley had gone with him, acting as the i j captain of the escort company. His frontier experience and his i knowledge of the desert had well qualified him for the position. Besides, his appointment had relieved Johnston of any onus that his leadership would have carried. All of them had not been Los Angeles men, for several were former army persons who had resigned their commissions, like Johnston, and had joined the party as a convenient way to get through the Indian country. Not all were intended Con federates either, though most of them had indicated their intention Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 118 ] I 62 to join the rebel forces. Meanwhile, anxious eyes had also been upon Governor Downey, j Though publicly he had disassociated himself from the Breckinridge secessionists, rumors had it that he was deeply involved with General 63 James Shields in a plot to take California into the Pacific Republic. Downey had denied the charge repeatedly, but his statements had been i so ambiguous that doubt still had remained as to his real loyalty. | Consequently, he was called to account. In an exchange of letters in j the Sacramento Union, Alvinza Hayward and John Dougherty had demanded that Downey clarify his personal interpretation of "fidelity to the . „64 government. This time, Downey had been straight forward, and had declared himself without equivocation: "I have no sympathy with secession or those who brought it about, as I have always believed that all the evils or grievances growing out of our system and diversity of in terests peculiar to each section of the union could find their remedy within the Union itself and under the broad aegis of the constitu- ..65 ' tion." i j So far as he had been concerned, it was the duty of the | secessionists to protect the union, and, as he stated in his auto- | ££ biography, "I saw that they did it." Furthermore, as a deliberate demonstration of his "fidelity to the government," he had offered to take the field with the California Volunteers, but had been persuaded 67 that his real worth was to remain at his post in Sacramento. Brave words these— for publication. Privately, however, he had been less than forceful in his defense of the national govern Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 119 ment, particularly when Lincoln's call for troops had introduced the element of coercion. Writing to his friend, Benjamin D. Wilson, he had unburdened himself on the true state of his feelings about the crisis, and who, he felt, had been at fault for what was happening in the land: It has been my misfortune to be Governor during the most stormy times that have ever existed since the organization of our state. And Sofar I have managed the Ship with Some tack and prudence. In the wild tornado that is sweeping the State and indeed the Union, there has not been a Man in position that dared raise his voice against coercion and the United States has rapidly become abolitionized. I took the respon sibility and came out boldly for which I brought upon my head almost the entire press of the State and the curses of My own party . . . at least I shall have the proud Satisfaction of Coming out and [ stating] My honest Sentiments in the face of political death, Downey did face political death, and his party bypassed him in the coming election. But he did not care, he had told Wilson. He was tired of the office, and wished only to retire from public life. "My only object," he had told Wilson in conclusion, "will be to see the State Government in the hands of true Democrats who alone ,69 can do anything towards saving the Union. Such sentiments, though expressed privately, could not help but creep into his public utterances, and critics had been quick to note them,70 At the same time, his own qualms about coercion, though he had remained inherently loyal himself, had dragged at any resolve that he may have had to force other men to stay in the Union against their will. Thus, Downey really did little to forestall the innumerable "Johnstons" who made their way to Dixie. He had called for loyalty Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 120 and defense of the Union, but his action, and lack of action, belied his words. Yet, in his ambivalence, he had not been much different from others who had suffered from divided loyalties. It had been easy to be forceful and to stand firm against secession in Sacramento, but when it had involved friends and neighbors, it had been a different matter. Consequently, his failure to stop Johnston's "escape" to Texas is but an illustration of the ambivalence that operated so widely— even among the military. Los Angeles was manifestly disloyal, but the authorities had been reluctant to take action that was too drastic for fear of the consequences. Their defensive action saved California for the Union, and, in the southern counties, was significant enough to frustrate Confederate dreams of a rebel state. Yet, belatedly given, it had provided many anxious moments for the "patriots." Herein lies the crux of Los Angeles in the Civil War. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 121 NOTES 1 Hayes to Edward M. Samuel, February 11, 1861, in Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 253. 2 Ibid.. p. 254. 3 Ibid., p. 255. 4 Judge Hayes to EmmaC Mrs. M. Jefferson Thompson], February 14, 1861. Ibid. . p. 256. ^Henry Hamilton, Los Angeles Star. January 5, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 30, Item 10. ^Los Angeles Star, April 27, 1861, in ibid., Vol. 43, Item 11. ^Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 254. O Semi-Weekly Southern News. May 3, 1861; Los Angeles Star, May 2, 1861, both in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, Items 12 and 14. ^Semi-Weekly Southern News, May 3, 1861, in ibid., Vol. 48 Item 12. ^Los Angeles Star. April 27, 1861, in ibid., Vol. 48, Item 11. **Alta California, December 8, 1860; editorial comments on quotations from the Congressional Globe, 36th Congress, 1st Session, 1728, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 19, Item 9. 12 Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 19, Item 56. Howard formerly had been a resident of San Francisco, but had gotten into difficulties with the Vigilantes. Leaving the City, he had drifted south to Los Angeles in the late Fifties. Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 54. 13 Alta California, December 8, 1860, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 19, Item 9. 14 J. P. McFarland to B. D. Wilson, May 1, 1861, Wilson Papers. Hayes, Pioneer Notes, pp. 254-255. Besides his own editor ials, Hamilton had printed articles from San Francisco correspondents. Cf. Los Angeles Star, January 12, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 48 Item 7. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 122 1\os Angeles Star. January 5, 1861, In Ibid.. Vol. 48. Item 6. ^San Francisco Daily American Flag, March 1, 1865, in Ibid., Vol. 48, Item 26. 18 San Francisco Herald, November 22, 28; December 21, 1861. 19 Volney E. Howard to Hon. E. D. Baker (former Californian, then Senator from Oregon), San Francisco Herald, January 25, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 19, Item 30. 20 San Francisco Herald, December 15, 1860, Ibid., Vol. 19, Item 10. 21 Benjamin B. Beales, "The San Jose Mercury and the Civil War," California Historical Society Quarterly, XXII (Sept., 1934), 223-234; (Dec., 1934), 355-364. i 22 _ C. R. Street, editor, Marysville Express, to H. C. Street, Postmaster, Shasta, December 25, 1860, in Alta California, August 24, 1863. 23 Stockton Argus, January 16, 1861; San Francisco Herald, January 18, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, unnumbered items. 24 Sonora Democratic Age, January 19, 1861, Ibid. 25 San Francisco Herald, January 18, 1861, Ibid. 26 Sonora Democratic Age, January 19, 1861, Ibid. ^Unidentified clipping, Ibid., Vol. 19, Item 13. Los Angeles Star, January 5, 1861, in ibid., Vol. 48, Item 6. ^Semi-Weekly Southern News, March 1, 1861, in ibid., Vol. 48, Item 8. 29 Los Angeles Star, February 2, March 9, 1861. Also see J. M. Scammel, "Military Units in Southern California, 1853-1862," California Historical Society Quarterly, XXIX (June, 1950), 220-250. Hereafter cited as Scanutel, ''Military Units, Southern California." 30 Los Angeles Star, March 9, 1861. ■^San Francisco Herald, January 1, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 19, Item 13. ~^Alta California, December 8, 1860, in ibid., Vol. 19, Item 9. Similar views were repeated in subsequent issues of the Alta Cali fornia , February 7, 16, 1861; also in the Semi-Weekly Southern News, December 21, 1860; January 31, May 3, 1861. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 123 33 Excerpts from Governor Downey's message on "Federal Rela tions" in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 19, Item 32. 34 C. R. Street to H. C. Street, December 25, 1860, as repro duced in the Alta California. August 24, 1863. 35 Alta California. February 7, 1861. 36 Davis, Political Conventions in California, pp. 12-162, gives a summary of the pre-Sumter debate at Sacramento. 37Ibid., pp. 130-131. 38Ibid., p. 163. 39Ibid., p. 162. 40 Jackson A. Graves, My Seventy Years in California (Los Angeles, 1907), p. 410. 41 Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 166. 42Ibid., p. 172. 43Ibid., p. 173. 44 Los Angeles Star, January 5, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, Item 6. 45 San Francisco Call, "Letter From Los Angeles," November 8, 1862, in ibid., Vol. 50, Part II, Item 373. 46 Volney E. Howard to Hon. Asa Ellis, in Sacramento Union, December 12, 1867. 47 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 294; Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 182. 48 The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies (70 Vols., Washington, D.C., 1880-1891), Ser. I, Vol. 50, Part I, pp. 479-480. Hereafter cited as War of the Rebellion. Charles Conway, in a story about the Knights, Los Angeles News, May 27, 1865, verified the existence of a local chapter of the Knights by printing a notice from the Southern Vineyard, April 19, 1860: "The B.G.S.C.'s will meet this night at the usual place. Members of the fraternity please warn all not in the Corporation and swiftly ride." 49 • Semi-Weekly Southern News, September 4, 1861, in Hayes Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, Item 25. Conway included a full column on the Knights— their oath, covenant, and initiation ceremony--both for the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 124 Knights of the Golden Circle, and for the Knights of the Columbian Star. 50 San Francisco Bulletin, November 20, 1884, In Scrapbook of John G. Johnston, 1904, Johnston-Griffin Collection, Huntington Library. Hereafter cited as Johnston-Griffin Collection. Also see Benjamin F. Gilbert, "Mythical Johnston Conspiracy," California Historical Society Quarterly, XVIII (Dec., 1961), 165-173. Hereafter cited as Gilbert,*Mythical Johnston Conspiracy." A footnote to the affair is given by Bancroft, History of California, VII, 279-281. 51 James H. Wilkin, ed., The Great Diamond Hoax and Other Stirring Incidents in the Life of Asbury Harpending (San Francisco, 1913), P. 36. 52 Ibid., pp. 4-42. Harpending suggested that the discoveries at Comstock had had an equally important influence in dampening California enthusiasm for secession. Ibid., pp. 37-39. 53 A sunmary of opinions is given by Gilbert, "Mythical Johnston Conspiracy," pp. 167-171. 54 The Dallas Morning News, April 23, 1884, Johnston-Griffin Collection. ^San Francisco Bulletin, November 20, 1884, Johnston-Griffin Collection. 56 "The California Recollections of Casper T. Hopkins," California Historical Society Quarterly, XXVI (Sept., 1947), 260-261. "^J. D. Stevenson to the San Francisco Bulletin as published in the Sacramento Union (n.d., but subsequent to November 24, 1884), in Johnston-Griffin Collection. 58 Helen B. Walters, "Confederates in Southern California," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXXV (Mar., 1953), 41-54. 59 Turned down by Johnston, Ridley had then approached J. Lancaster Brent, but he was again rebuffed. Brigadier-General Joseph Lancaster Brent (C.S.A.), Memoirs Of The War Between The States (New Orleans, 1940). Hereafter cited as Brent, Memoirs. 60 Los Angeles Herald, November 24, 1884, Johnston-Griffin Collection. 61 Hamilton published their names. Los Angeles Star, July 6, 1861. Other lists were given, adding names to Hamilton's. Evidently, recruits were picked up along the way, particularly in San Bernardino. By the time the party reached Yuma, it is reported to have grown to Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 125 fifty men. Unidentified clipping, "The Fourth at Yuma," Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol., 48, near Item 19. 62 Sacramento Union, July 11, 1861. 63 Ibid., May 25, 1861. 64 Ibid.. May 17, 1861. 65 Ibid. 66 Downey, Autobiography. 67 Ibid. Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, pp. 109, 323, denied Downey's loyalty, saying that his "suddenly re vealed sympathies with the secessionists" had killed him politically. 68 John G. Downey to B. D. Wilson, Sacramento, May 19, 1861, Wilson Papers. 69 Ibid. His retirement was not permanent for he returned to politics and was the Democratic nominee for governor in 1863. 70 Sacramento Union, May 17, 1861. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER V ETERNAL VIGILANCE--IN A RESTRAINED MANNER Early In January, 1862, Judge Benjamin I. Hayes had written in his diary of a visit from Jonathan R. Scott. They were old friends, close because of their relationship as members of the Los Angeles bar, but, compadres, too, because of their shared experiences since the early days of Los Angeles County. Naturally, as their conversation had touched upon the events in the east, they had talked of the local situation and the developments that were causing concern.* Scott told of an incident that had worried him: a report that an officer and troop of twenty men had gone to Cucamonga seeking John Rains for the purpose of arresting him. Rains had happened to be in Los Angeles at the time, but had heard of the expedition to his ranch. Inquiries and remonstrances had been sent immediately to Colonel Carleton who had responded by ordering the detachment to return to their post. Despite this reprieve, Scott said that Rains was still apprehensive, and had stayed away from home, afraid that he would be arrested and sent to Yuma. But, this was not all, Scott had told Hayes. He had begun to worry about his own safety. He was supposed to go to San Diego the next week to attend the district court sessions, but feared to 126 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 127 | go lest the officer in command there might take it into his head to i I arrest him. | Both of these ment wrote Hayes after Scott had gone, were asking "What have we done, to justify our arrest?" Then, when he remembered that Scott had intimated that Hayes, himself, might also be arrested, the good judge naturally had expostulated "What have I done to justify such a proceeding?" j Later, as he wrote these details in his Notes, Hayes had I remembered another visitor to his office--Jonathan J. Warner who had called the same afternoon to inquire about the number of grape vines in the southern part of the state. It was an innocent question about a new industry that had begun to assume an increasing importance to the Los Angeles economy. Now, under the circumstances of Scott's worries, and warning, Hayes had seen it as a camouflage for a more sinister purpose. Warner, Judge Hayes had reminded himself, had been the author of a series of articles by "Seldon," a pseudonym he had used fre- 2 quently in writing to San Francisco papers. He had been writing | these "Letters From Los Angeles" for sometime, even while editor of the Southern Vineyard. It was a habit that had continued through the 3 year8--sometimes as "Seldon," and sometimes as "Viejo" (the Old Han). Warner was a good writer, Hayes had conceded, but he had a "precarious reputation--and with enough reason for Che had! a strong partisan malevolence, toward those who happen to be of the opposite school, in our past controversy."^ At the time, Warner was no longer an editor, his paper having Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 128 been part of the merger that eventually had formed the Semi-Weekly i Southern News. Instead, he was semi-retired, devoted to his Los i | Angeles properties along Sixth and Main Street, and was only casually interested in things journalistic. However, his casualness had ceased when the Union was en dangered. A Democrat, but a loyal Union man, he had quickly affili- l ated with the Union Club that had formed in Los Angeles, and had taken an active part against the secessionists of Los Angeles County. In fact, it was he, perhaps more than any other single person, who had | done more to frustrate the ambitions of local Confederates by keeping the military authorities posted on their activity. So significant was his aid that, eventually, he had been appointed provost marshal of Los Angeles, deputy under Henry D. Barrows, marshal for the Southern District of California.^ Typical of the news that Warner had been reporting were accounts of the recruiting of "migrants" that had been going on ever since the Texas bound Johnston Party had left the previous June. El Monte was the center of this activity, where the blacksmith shops had ! j been reported busy "round the clock" preparing wagons, shoeing horses, and generally equipping men to make the trek across the desert. Such parties had been leaving the county contlnually--in small groups so as not to arouse suspicion. Sometimes, however, fifty or more men had gathered. Amid a great deal of noise, and display of "new re volvers," they had paraded through the city, announcing to one and all 6 their intention to go to Dixie. Generally, the "emigrants" had left Los Angeles along the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 129 road to Temecula and Warner's Ranch In San Diego County. From there, they had followed (but off of the main trail) the Yuma road to a I general rendezvous on the Colorado River. At "Grass Camp," some twenty to thirty miles below the mouth of the Gila River, military and commissary supplies were gathered (shipped from San Francisco, Warner I [ had reported), and final preparations were made for the long trek 7 across the desert. I It was this type of reporting that Hayes had criticized as | fraudulent evidence of a general conspiracy in the southern part of | the state. Henry Hamilton had echoed Hayes, demanding that the Alta ! California's correspondent name the conspirators who were fomenting | insurrection in Los Angeles. There were none here, Hamilton had said, I ■ unless "to be a Democrat is secession and treason; then there are many i here." " [We]oppose the administration policy," but if that be "over- . 8 1 throwing the government, then suffrage has a new name!" As far as the ' story that one hundred armed men were camped near Temecula, lying in I wait to ambush a troop of Federal soldiers, such a report was a deli berate lie. A "gentleman" had just arrived in Los Angeles who had come the whole distance across the desert from the Pima Villages in Arizona. He had seen no "hundred men," said Hamilton— only George Patrick and about twenty others from Tuolomne County, on their way to Texas. Instead of ambush, there had been no trouble at all. The supposed Confederates had been peacefully camped when overtaken by the Federal troops. Captain Bryant, in command, had passed them by un molested as he had brought his troop through the desert on the way to Los Angeles.^ Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 130 j Despite Hayes and Hamilton, and all of those who had discounted | i 1 the significance of their leaving, the exodus of Confederate sympa- | thizers had continued at an alarming rate. How many left from Cali- j fornia may never be determined. But from Los Angeles, the number was I | considerable. Major Horace Bell, one of the two residents of Los i j Angeles to leave the state for active duty in the Union armies back ; i | east, estimated that there were "colonels, majors, and captains with out end, besides two hundred and fifty of the rank and file who were fitted out in Los Angeles County and sent over the desert to the Con federate forces in Texas. But, these had not been the only ones who intended to go--if their plans had not been interrupted, and frustrated, by the federal authorities. It was commonly believed that some hundreds more had been making their secret preparations. To his earlier warnings, J. J. Warner had added notice that the secessionists were continually proselyting converts to their cause. They were quiet about it, but had been gaining support even among the leading citizens, "Hardly a day goes by, said Warner, "without leading to the discovery that individuals unsuspected of disloyalty are deeply tainted with dis loyalty."^ Of all those conspirators who would have led an exodus out of 12 California, none had gained more notoriety than Daniel Showalter. A former assemblyman from Mariposa County in the Twelfth Session of the legislature, Showalter had gained a peculiar reputation for his participation in what has been called the last political duel in the history of the state. Nominally a Douglas Democrat, but, at heart, a Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 131 rabid secessionist, he had killed Charles H. Piercy over a dispute related more to a question o£ personal honor than to their differences I j j on the sectional question. Whatever the cause of their dispute, popu- lar opinion had cast Showalter in the same role as Judge Terry, and had labeled him a fire-brand rebel. Whether he fled from fear of arrest, or had merely followed his political inclinations, he eventu ally found his way to Southern California. There, as reported by the indefatigable sleuth, Jonathan J. Warner, a contingent of Texas 13 "patriots" had gathered, awaiting his arrival at El Monte. Newspaper accounts which had supplemented Warner's information to General Carle- ton had suggested that Showalter had not been the real leader of the secessionists' project— at least, not of the troop that was finally apprehended in the desert. Rather, it had been a Captain Wilson, an old Texas Ranger, who was in actual command. Dan Showalter had been only a fellow traveller, a mere member of the group.^ Furthermore, when the question of whether to fight or surrender to the federal troops had been decided, Showalter had been over-ruled in favor of surrendering; another indication of his subordinate role.^ Whatever Showalter's immediate role, what he and the rest of the group had represented was not a band of Arizona-bound miners as they had protested to Major Riggs, the officer in charge of the arresting force. Instead, as Warner had warned Carleton, they were seen as an advance force of many who would follow if they had been successful in this, a test run of the route to Texas. There had been 16 only twenty-five men apprehended that day at Camp Wright, but Charles Conway of the Semi-Weekly Southern News, in support of the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. information already provided by Warner, had reported that the group waiting at El Monte had totalled one hundred and twenty-five altogether. I i ! There were three companies of men— captained by Dan Showalter, H. H. Dickey and a Mr. Wilson. According to Conway, Dickey and Wilson had been left behind in El Monte to watch the progress of the first group before they attempted the crossing. ^ Whether all of this had been true or not, it had been believed sufficiently at the time for the military authorities to take more care than usual with suspected Confederates. Normally all that had been required was an oath of allegiance, and a bond to stay in the state. However, such were the conditions that had operated at the time, no oath was administered— for awhile— and the "prisoners” (though not disarmed!) had been escorted to the bastile at Yuma. Showalter had been ready, immediately upon his arrest, to take an iron-clad oath of his loyalty to the Union— after all, he had been born in Pennsylvania, and was not a Southerner. Nevertheless, his reputation had marked him as a prime suspect, and his present cir cumstances had only made matters worse. Now, he was seen as more < than a single secessionist. He was the leader of a conspiracy that I hoped to unite California's southern counties (at least) with the advancing Texas forces under Colonel John H. Baylor. That this had been truly Showalter's objective was finally attested by General George W. Bowie after his Texas operations under Carleton had brought him into contact with Showalter's plans. Carle- ton had ordered Bowie to intercept a rebel force under Captain Henry Skillman who was moving into the western territories from Texas. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 133 Skillman, a "notorious spy," according to Carleton, had expected to contact Confederate sympathizers in Arizona and California. Conse- quently, Carleton had wanted Bowie not only to capture Skillman, himself, but to seize all his mail and personal papers as well. Subsequently, a Captain Freed had been detailed by Bowie to attack Skillman, which he did with complete success. "Among the letters found," said General Bowie in his report, "was one from Dan Showalter to the wife of Col. Forman," Commander of the Fourth Cali fornia Volunteers, at Drum Barracks, Los Angeles County. In the i letter, Showalter had stated that, just as soon as Confederate troops could be relieved in Eastern Texas, it was the purpose of the Con federacy to send a column through New Mexico and Arizona to Southern California. Showalter's letter had requested that those sympathetic to the cause should be made aware of the project "so that they would be ready not only to receive but to assist the Confederacy on their arrival here."1* * All of this had occurred in 1864, near the Texas town of Presidio— a part of the abortive efforts by Lansford W. Hastings, | Senator William M. Gwin, and other California Confederates to revive 19 their lost hopes in the west. But, the possibility of such a conspiracy had been suspected even in 1862, when Showalter was first arrested and jailed at Yuma. That he was charged as the ringleader, Showalter had been well aware; part of his plea for clemency was based upon a denial of such responsibility. In his own behalf, and, es- pecially for those jailed with him, he had written a letter to Brigadier General George Wright, Commander of the Pacific Division Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 134 j at San Francisco. Though the Ink Is faded, and the script is a bit | j old fashioned, most of the letter's contents can still be read. On | j the surface, it is an appeal for clemency, poignant for its claims against unjust arrest and imprisonment. But, its real message was more than that. It was a considered statement that could have been I I | made by any one of the California Confederates—-once they had been I i j caught! ! Fort Yuma j Febry the 20/62 I i Brig. Genl. Wright i Sir, I ' You have in your possession several letters written by me at Temacula Nov. the 28/61 which . . . [unreadable] a conversa tion I had lately with Maj. Kreig forms the basis of the evi dence upon which I am still held as prisoner. I do not deem it necessary as I believe it would be useless to say anything re lative to my own case at present. 1 stand ready to make my defense when brought before the people's tribunal of the . . . | [blurred] . But in justice . . . [scratched word ] to others I wish to say that I alone am responsible for . . . [letter torn] ! above referred to [papers] and no member of . . . f letter torn] j party can save[ ? ]them or know anything about their contents, j I know the impression has gone forth that we were regularly organized and on our way to the South for the purpose of taking up arms against the Government of the United States. This has no foundation in fact. The party met at Los Angeles merely by accident. Some of them had been there for six or seven weeks before I reached that place while every Individual member of the party was perfectly free to act for himself. 1 feel confi dent (not withstanding the strong prejudice and bitter partisan feeling existing against the party) that if an informal investi gation could be had that not a shadow of testimony could be adduced upon which to detain those Gentlemen. In view of these factors and in order that Justice may be done to those men who have already suffered three month's imprisonment I most respect fully ask you to order an investigation at this post before such of your officers as you may . . .[tear] propose to select. Your Obt. S. 20 Dan Showalter Two months more elapsed before there was any response from this Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 135 letter to General Wright. The mails were habitually slow, and delivery schedules across the desert had been erratic at best. However, dis- | tance from Yuma and the northern centers of military command was not ; the only factor that had delayed a response to his plea for a hearing. i I Ho matter how much Showalter had claimed that he had been acting alone, i I popular opinion had not believed him. He was considered too signifi- I j cant to the cause of California Confederates— the rallying point a- | round which the secessionists had gathered. Moreover, as rumor had | : bruited it about, his arrest had caused considerable consternation in the rebel centers of El Monte and San Bernardino. Plans that had been so well laid were up in the air, and there had been a constant fear among them that the whole scheme would be exposed and everything would come to naught. Consequently, considerable excitement had developed among the "Southerners" as they had thrashed around, proposing and devising plans to save the situation. Dan Showalter and his party i had to be rescued! Concern for such a possibility had bothered Colonel Carleton soon after Showalter and his "miners" had been arrested and sent to Yuma. He knew the sentiment among the authorities in Los Angeles, and had feared that Showalter*s friends would use their influence to secure his release through the civil courts. To forestall such an eventuality, Carleton had sent positive instructions to Lieutenant Colonel Joeeph R. West at Yuma not to honor any writ of habeas corpus or other civil process that might come to him in behalf of the pris- 21 oners. But peaceful intervention through the courts had not been the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 136 only action by the secessionists that had worried the Unionists. That i they might resort to force had become a serious worry, as Charles ; Maclay had noted in a speech before the Sacramento assembly on March i 22 | 12, 1862. Addressing himself to the need for more stringent measures ; to control the activities of rebel sympathizers, Maclay had warned i that "there are traitors lurking about [in the southern part of the i state] and an effort will be made to rescue Showalter and his party, j i who . . . was captured and taken prisoner when on their way to join I 23 | the rebel army." But force had not been required. General Wright accommodated the secessionists without it. Within the month, instructions had been sent to Colonel West at Yuma to administer another oath to each of the men, and to release the entire group when it had been taken. Showalter gave his bond, was released, and was soon off to Texas and the Confederacy as had been his intention all along. It was this kind of "accommodation" by the military that had worried the loyal element of Los Angeles from the beginning. At a time when so many in the community were suspect, it was particularly i j galling to have the very ones who had been charged with maintenance of order to be so lax as to let another dangerous rebel get away. Perhaps, as an Arizona correspondent named "Colorado" had reported after observing the Rid ley-Johnston Party enroute through Yuma, the California authorities were really doing nothing to stop the flow of 24 secessionists from the state. Abel Stearns had expressed concern for this circumstance when he had written to Brigadier General Sumner for the need of more troops Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 137 to patrol the desert between Los Angeles and the Arizona territory. He had been particularly concerned about reports that the San Bernard ino secessionists had been meeting regularly, two and three times a week, in what proved to be recruiting sessions. Concern by Stearns had been echoed by Edwin A. Sherman who had linked Alonzo Ridley and Mayor Marchesseault of Los Angeles with the San Bernardino Confederates 25 who had recruited a calvary unit at Cucamonga. It was there that Sidney Waite, son of James S. Waite, the former publisher of the Los 26 Angeles Star, had joined a unit bound for Arizona and points east. What Stearns had wanted was not just more troops, but officers who would do their duty in the face of manifest disloyalty. Too many good men had been transferred out of the country— especially men like Captain Winfield Scott Hancock who had been so zealous in patrolling the wild open areas on either side of the Yuma Road. There was too much responsibility, and the danger to the country was too great, for the few who had been left to shoulder it. Captain John W. Davidson was one who had been doing a good job, despite the difficulties. His intimate knowledge of the terrain, and his earnest loyalty to the j Union (though a Virginian by birth), had made him particularly well suited to handle the situation. Stearns had told General Sumner that he hoped that these conditions "may be the means of detaining him 27 amongst us in this position." Captain Davidson had stayed in the area, at least into the winter months of 1861. In October, while patrolling in the vicinity of San Bernardino, he entered the town to control a group of secession ists who had raised a ruckus at a local election by their loud-mouthed Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 9ft defense of the Confederacy. But he did not linger in the town, but had been constantly out with his dragoons, patrolling the road, and protecting army trains against threatened attack by persons calling 29 themselves "secessionists." Neither had he neglected Los Angeles in his vigilance upon the desert. For some time, the Bella Union Hotel had been recognized as the favorite gathering palce of rebel sympathi zers. For that reason, the hotel was placed "out of bounds" by orders 30 of Captain Davidson. He could not take action except in overt cir cumstances, but he, at least, had taken steps to shield his troops from the ribald sarcasm that was the usual bill of fare at the Bella Union bar. Davidson's actions had been true to the letter and spirit of orders that General Sumner had given soon after he had been apprised by Stearns about the situation in the southern counties. Writing to Major William S. Ketchum, August 14, 1861, Sumner had instructed him to assume command at San Bernardino with the deliberate Intention of repressing "with a strong hand" any organization that resisted or interfered with the government: ! You will consider yourself charged with all the super vision of Los Angeles, San Bernardino, San Diego, and Santa Barbara Counties, and you will endeavor to keep yourself well informed of all scheming against the Government, and inter pose at once if any overt act of treason is committed. You will have authority to concentrate the troops from Los Angeles, San Bernardino, and San Diego if any emergency should make it necessary. This was the kind of order that Colonel James H. Carleton could very well have used back in June of 1861 when he had become aware of the Ridley-Johnston activities in El Monte and San Bernardino. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 139 Rumors had been flying around ever since Johnston had come down from San Francisco, and Carleton, as well as every other Union man, had I been wondering what Johnston had been doing. Rumors do not make real evidence, and Carleton had had nothing to go on except an uneasy feeling that all had not been as it appeared on the surface. Neither had he any positive orders under which he could have acted, particularly when the circumstances involved a military company ostensibly organized as a unit of the California State Militia. It really had been a state matter, under the jurisdic- S tion of the governor; not a concern for a federal officer. Neverthe- I less, when he had learned that Downey was in Los Angeles--at the very time Ridley and Johnston were preparing to leave the state--Carleton had no longer remained silent. In a letter that was properly respect- I ful of Downey's position as chief executive, Carleton had spelled out the import of Ridley's intentions. Not only was his party bound for Texas and the Confederacy, but they were proposing "to remove beyond .,32 the limits of California certain arms belonging to the state. This ! equipment, rifles and certain accoutrements, had been part of the arms issued to the Los Angeles Mounted Rifles, but were then in the hands j 33 ! of the intended recruits for the rebel army. I | These charges were based upon rumor, but Carleton had strong I ! feelings that they could be substantiated. Moreover— and this factor had influenced Carleton above all else— he had firmly believed that Downey had known of the rumors' firm foundation. Therefore, he had not been reluctant in telling the governor what so many people be lieved was literally true. Neither had he been bashful about reminding Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 140 Downey that he had certain responsibilities as commander-in-chief of I the state militia. Hot the least of these was the obligation to see ' l | that State arms were not used to assist secessionists and rebellion. If Downey did not have sufficient loyal forces in the Los Angeles area to do the job, then, Carleton had advised: I I I I will cheerfully, with my command, lend you all possible i aid should it become necessary to protect, or to recover these j arms by force and even should the contingency arise that these | arms shall be taken in spite of any precautions you may now inaugurate for your additional security, if you will cause timely notice of the fact to be communicated to me, pursuit j shall be made by troops under my command for their recovery. Then, lest Downey might suggest an excuse that he had no se- 1 cure place to keep the arms in question, Carleton had concluded with j an offer, if Downey would request it, to "receive them in custody, 35 and hold them subject to your order." i No evidence has been found that Downey ever replied to Carle- I ■ ton's offer.. Neither is there any indication that he would have I accepted what Carleton had proposed. To have taken any overt action against Johnston's "peaceful" exodus from the state would have been contrary to Downey's whole attitude on coercion. Moreover, his personal frame of reference, in the county, would have worked against such procedures. After all, though he had differed with his neighbors in politics, they were still his friends and business associates. Therefore, he could have done nothing that might rupture their re- lation8hip--even though his inaction tied him closer to the chivalry wing of Los Angeles democracy. Thus, Ridley and Johnston had left the state with the tacit .permission of the state's chief executive— not because of any derelic- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 1 S T tion of duty upon the part of Colonel Carleton. This is a fact that i was quickly lost in the confusion of contemporary criticism that had moaned about the ineptitude of the military. In fact, especially in the Johnston case, it was the civil authority, not Carleton (as he had been accused) that stands at fault. Not just Governor Downey, either, but the local county and city officials as well. j Not only had Mayor Marchesseault been involved with Ridley, but so had the county sheriff. Tomas Sanchez was a rabid secessionist, reputedly a second lieutenant In the Confederate Army, though he had remained in Los Angeles instead of going over the desert with the rest 36 j of the rebel recruits. It had been he, along with Andrew J. King, | deputy sheriff, who had protected the good name of Downey, Johnston, and Ridley when the newspapers of the state had railed against the authorities for letting Johnston get away— with state arms and equip- 37 ment. Sheriff Sanchez had claimed that he knew nothing of what had transpired between Downey "and a U.S. Army officer [Carleton ]," but he did know that Downey had not refused to do anything about Ridley's j having had the state arms. Rather than Ridley having taken them out of I the state, the arms had been turned over to Sanchez who, as the sheriff of Los Angeles County, had been instructed to keep them in his charge. To this fact Sanchez and King both had given affidavits, testifying that the arms in question had been deposited in the county Jail. Fur thermore, Sanchez and King had affirmed, the members of the county grand jury, acting upon the rumors, had visited the jail and had 38 found the arms "as they are at present, safe and in good condition." Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 142 Unfortunately, the testimony of two avowed secessionists, I | published in a journal which was subsequently banned from the mails ; because of the editor's blatant disloyalty, is not the best of 39 I evidence. The grand jury may have visited the jail, but no records I 1 have been found to verify what they had seen. There were some rifles there, plus a confusion of sabres and other paraphernalia of early j military units in Southern California. However, contemporaries of j | Sanchez had not believed that all of the rifles were there that should ! have been there, Andres Pico had said as much in February, 1862, when he had j written to William C. Kibbe, Adjutant General of the State of Cali- i , 40 | fornia, about what he had found upon going to Sanchez jail. Acting i upon orders from Governor Downey, Pico had begun to gather certain i arms belonging to the state--specifically sixty rifles that had originally been issued to Captain W. W. Twist of the Los Angeles City Guards. In his letter to Kibbe, General Pico had recounted his difficulty in locating the arms because no accurate list could be obtained of the disposition of the rifles. However, he had determined that twenty-five of the original sixty rifles had been deposited with Sheriff Sanchez in the county jail. At the time, Alonzo Ridley, in addition to his interests with the Los Angeles Mounted Rifles, had also been deputy sheriff under Sanchez. In this capacity, he had had easy access to the arms "until his departure." When he left for Texas, Pico concluded in his letter to General Kibbe, Ridley had taken the 41 arms with him. Twenty-five rifles were gone, but these had not been the only Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. I5T arms that Kibbe had been worried about losing. Through the years, numerous shipments had brought state equipment to the various militia units that had been organized in the southern counties. Care had not I always been exercised in issuing the arms or in controlling their use. As Alonzo Ridley had pointed out to Governor Downey at the time he had petitioned for state arms, it was "notorious that the arms Cissued to previous companies]] have been scattered and lost . . . [or sold and 42 deposited at pawn shops." I I In an attempt to stop this drain of state equipment, as well I | as to prevent it being siphoned away to the enemies of the Republic, Kibbe had written to Brigadier General Romualdo Pacheco, commander of the First Brigade at San Luis Obispo. Pacheco, was instructed to take into his possession, and to ship to Kibbe, all arms in Los Angeles .A3 County "except those in the hands of undoubtedly loyal persons. Accordingly, Pacheco had canvassed the county, but had found only a motley collection of arms, some being relics from the Fifties when the earliest vigilante groups had been formed in the area. Among those items returned were sixty rifled muskets which had been issued pre- j viously to the Los Angeles Greys, another local militia unit organized, but short-lived, about the same time that Ridley had been building his company. In his report to Kibbe, General Pacheco had made no mention of the one hundred and twenty rifles, sabres, and colt revolvers that Ridley had accumulated for the Los Angeles Mounted Rifles. It was Kibbe's conclusion that many of these, like the missing twenty-five rifles that Pico could not find, had gone their way into Texas. In a final postscript to the whole affair, General Kibbe, in Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 144 1 a report to the new governor, Leland Stanford, had described his ! i efforts to determine the extent of the state's loss, and, as nearly as | | I i possible, to fix the blame for what had happened. Increasingly, as his investigation had gathered testimony, the evidence seemed conclusive i that Ridley should be charged with theft. After all, twenty-five j missing rifles and twenty-five men in Ridley's Company seemed a cir- | i : cumstance more than mere coincidence. At the same time, ex-Governor j ! Downey could be indicted as an accessory, if not before, at least, ! i ! after the fact. Bonds had been posted by Los Angeles citizens to | I | protect the state against the loss of equipment issued to militia I units. Downey had the papers which covered the missing rifles. Kibbe | had wanted to present them and collect the penalty from the bondsmen, ! but Downey had consistently refused to give them up. I | Thus, in the final analysis, Carleton stands acquitted in the ! case of Ridley-Johnston and the stolen rifles. But, this had not been j the end of his troubles, personally, nor the end of charges that he ! and others in the military establishment were less than vigilant in defense of the Union. Constantly, especially in the first years of the war, the old charges were revived and hurled anew as the loyal | element had found fault with the conduct of the war in the southern | counties of California. I ■ Typical of the many accounts that had appeared in the northern press, as well as in Conway's Southern News, is a letter from "Mejas" I i who wrote to the Sacramento Daily Union on April 30, 1862. After j reviewing the "Southern" character in California's lower counties— made up mostly of emigres from Arkansas, Texas, and South Carolina- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 145 "Mejas" had decried the tendency of the local authorities to "wink at" Southern activists who controlled the county. Treason was all about, ! and the laws were not being enforced at all— and why not? All our judges are secessionist [ Hayes and Dryden] or at least strongly tinctured with it. Our Sheriff is a secess- ! ionist [ Tomas Sanchez]; our Deputy Sheriff C Andrew J. King] ditto; our County ClerkE John W. Shore] ditto— in one word, all our own public officials, with the exception of the District Attorney[ Ezra Drown] and County Surveyor Cwilliam | Moore] are secessionists, root and branch.^ There was no hope in Los Angeles County for Union men, "Mejas" had concluded. Even if charges were brought against "Dixieites" for any crime, treason or not, no local jury would convict. With a ; secessionist sheriff and a secessionist judge, the jury was bound to be of the same calibre. No other could be impaneled. Why not appeal to the military? Here all those who had written— whether it had been "Mejas," the unknown scribe, or identified j writers like Charles Conway or Henry D. Barrows--had concentrated on i the same theme. Would that they still had had the likes of Captain John W. Davidson instead of Colonel Carleton, Ferris Forman, and, especially, Brigadier General George Wright, Commander, first of the District of Southern California at Los Angeles, then, of the Department 45 of the Pacific at the Presidio in San Francisco. Davidson, they all had recalled, was a capable and energetic officer. When he had been in command in Los Angeles, overt secession ist! had been held in check. Not only had he controlled rebel talk, but, though a Virginian, he would have nothing to do with rebellion, 46 nor anyone who sympathized with the Confederate cause. Not so with Carleton, Forman, and Wright. These "obliging" gentlemen not only had Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 146 compromised themselves by associating with known secessionists, but j j had compounded the difficulties of Union men in a rebel stronghold. j I i | "Ought not the army to do all in its power to reverse this ! 47 | sort of thing?" asked Henry D. Barrows of General George Wright. I i Should not the citizens of Southern California expect the military authorities to attack secessionism in any phase it might present it self? Ought not the federal officers use all their influence to accomplish this— to make the cause of treason disreputable by abstain ing from associating with those who, whatever their social respect- | ability, were known to sympathize with it? These were justifiable I expectations, Barrows had assured General Wright, but the loyal citi zens of Los Angeles had not been encouraged by the attitudes and actions of the local military personnel. Carleton, to be sure, had been energetic in corralling Dan Showalter, but, according to Barrows, his zeal had been slipping away. For instance, when Barrows had requested the arrest of Andrew J. King for reason of his flagrant disloyalty at the Bella Union Hotel, Carleton had responded with less than the force that Barrows i I j had felt that the occasion had demanded. King had returned from San Francisco, bearing a new portrait of Pierre Beauregard, the illustrious "Hero of Fort Sumter." While displaying it around town, he had created such a noise that Barrows, as United States Provost Marshal, had called upon him to desist. King had refused point blank, stating further that he felt no obliga tion to Barrows, or the authority that he represented. "Jeff. Davis' was the only constitutional government we had, and [King said that ]he Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 147 remained here CLos Angeles]] because he could do more harm Co Che | 48 | enemies of ChaC GovernmenC by sCaying here than going Chere." 1 j King had been transporCed Co Camp Drum in Che company of his legal counsel, Volney E. Howard, buC not to be retained very long, Barrows had been fully confident. How could it be otherwise when not j only the city and county officials were in sympathy with his actions, I but the military, itself, seemed of doubtful loyalty. Therefore, it had been no surprise to see King soon back in Los Angeles after Caking | some kind of oath ChaC "did not conflict with his views in regard to 49 l Lincolnism or his veneration for Jeff." General Wright, in his reply to Barrows, had expressed concern for the condition of affairs in the southern counties, and had assured him that he would see that disloyalty was suppressed--just as soon as he was able to place an experienced officer in command' "The only difficulty we have to encounter is as Co the best manner of accomplish- 50 ing the object Cthat we have]ln view." Right there, Wright had hit upon the crux of what had been bothering the Union men in Los Angeles. What was the best way to I | accomplish their desired objective? How could Union men be encouraged i that their cause was not lost— that they might expect support and encouragement from the federal authorities in the area? Wright had promised Barrows that his officer would be "instructed to confer freely with yourself and other civil officers of the United States in that quarter.That was just the trouble. They had not been doing that. Neither did they do it in the future. Rather, they had continued to consort with the elite of Los Angeles--attended parties Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 148 in the home o£ Benjamin D. Wilson where the "secesh" had usually i gathered. More than that, they had attended private business meetings j | in Los Angeles every time they had come to town, and, in every way possible, had associated with the known supporters of the Southern 52 Confederacy. Not all of the federal officers were castigated as collabora- I tors. Colonel James F. Curtis, a later commander in Los Angeles County, was considered as one of the most capable and loyal men who I p o j had ever been at Drum Barracks. At no time did he give any indiea- tion of sympathy for the Los Angeles Confederates, nor had he given any offense to the critics of the military. But, with James H. Carleton and Ferris Forman, commanders before him, it had been an entirely different matter. For example, Colonel Forman, commander of the Southern District of California after Carleton had gone to Arizona, had to be reassigned because of his too evident friendship with the rebel sympathizers in Los Angeles. General Joseph R. West was ordered from Yuma to take Forman's place at Drum Barracks in order to relieve 54 the threat of difficulties in that area. However, Colonel Carleton i had been the primary culprit; the more fallen, perhaps, because of his j former high standing among the local Unionists. Constantly, the news journals, both in Los Angeles and in the northern part of the state, were filled with charges against Carleton. Leaving the area had given him no respite from the attacks, for he was continually criticized even while in Arizona and New Mexico. Charles Conway of the Southern News (and of the re-named Los Angeles News) was the most vocal critic, constantly abusing him for Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 149 fraternizing with the enemy. So loud spoken had he been that Carleton, at one time, had threatened to close him up. Nothing daunted, Conway ! had continued to regale the public with tales of the outrages that I j Carleton had perpetrated in the name of the federal government. Things i had gotten so bad in his camp that even Carleton's own men were pro- I | testing. "Colonel Bowie and other good and true men are about to I resign disgusted with the manner in which affairs are being conduct- 55 ed." The specifics against Carleton had included not only his I ! off-hand manner in handling the King case, but his repeated neglect i j | of other more dangerous secessionists in the area. Time and again, j "responsible" citizens had warned Carleton— even had signed affidavits i to particulars, said "Mejas." "Where were they now? Two of them are in San Francisco, two are in El Monte, and one, Asa Johnson by name, is working for the government— one of the most bitter as well as vindictive secessionists that we have in Los Angeles. Secessionists "working" for the government seemed to be the crux of the matter as far as the critics of Carleton were concerned. Not only had "Mejas" complained, but so had a columist to the San j Francisco Call. According to his information, Carleton had employed i the leading rebels in Los Angeles County in gathering supplies and munitions for the California Column. Particularly had this been true in the quartermaster and commissary departments. Even the wagon- masters *nd teamsters were suspect. One had reputedly intended to go | with the Ridley-Johnston Party, but had backed out at the last minute, j Of the three hundred and seventy-five teamsters, many were claimed as Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 150 would-be Confederates who had seen Carleton's wagon train as a conven ient vehicle to get home to Dixie. | But, this was not all that had been amiss in Carleton's private | domain. Contracts were being entered into, bargains were being made, | and money was being squandered, "all to fill the coffers of traitors I 57 i and known secessionists." I Here, said the editors of the San Francisco Herald-News, was the whole difficulty in Los Angeles County. It really had not been a j question of loyalty, or disloyalty, but who was going to profit from ; the largesse of military spending as Carleton had equipped his Cali- eg fornla Volunteers. Whoever had written In criticism, Conway or "Mejas," had raised no issue deeper than this: that secessionists had ■ been getting the contracts, while Union business had been languishing. | J. J. Warner had recognized this situation as early as March, ! 1862, when Carleton had first experienced difficulty in getting his supplies at Drum Barracks. At that time, Warner had put it down to the lack of sufficient funds at the commissary to pay its bills. As a consequence, much dissatisfaction had been experienced, and the govern ment had lost a real opportunity to convert the mass of the people into loyal supporters by not having funds. Out of circumstances such as these, Carleton had been forced to make contracts with known secessionists, as "Mejas" had charged. Many of them were sympathetic with, and even willing tools of the rebellion, Warner had been ready to admit. But, at the same time, they had been the ones who had controlled the active capital and business in the county. They, alone, had been sufficiently affluent to carry the government paper without Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 151 demanding Immediate payment, or suffering too much from the twenty 59 per cent discount that was usual in the market place. Moreover, j I j said Warner (writing a second letter, this time under the pseudonym "Vindicator"), the commissary department had had to deal with such men as Benjamin D. Wilson, Tomas Sanchez, and other accused secession ists. There had not been enough other producers in the county to | supply the California Column. Moreover, and this fact had seemed more significant than any test of loyalty yet advanced, those Union men who could sell--beef, hay, and horses, particularly--generally | had pegged their prices so much higher than others, that Carleton had j 60 j been forced to make the contracts he did. i I j To Charles Conway, these arguments had all been "brazen and j unblushing" falsehoods, written by Warner in an attempt to cover up 61 the plundering and outrageous behavior at Drum Barracks. To say that Abel Stearns could not have provided meat that the army required was to deny his stature as the leading stockman in the county. He stood ready to supply the California Column just as he had provided I for Carleton's troops at Camp Latham. At the time, Carleton had found Steam's beef a "very acceptable . . . [and] important article of 62 j subsistence for troops in the field." He had not found the price objectionable, either, but had readily forwarded a government draft to pay for the $163.23 worth of dried beef that Steams had furnished. However, when the bulk of the contract had been awarded, it had gone j j to J. L. Beard whose bid had been only three and a half cents a pound | lower than Stearns had offered. S Price was beside the point, Conway had argued. The main issue Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. was trading with the enemy— not saving the government's money. Warner | i needed to open his eyes, and to stop being blinded by his fidelity to i ; his "patron" saint at Drum Barracks. He had been too long in the j i I general's employ, first as a "traveller" along the Yuma Road, then as j 63 j a "go-between" in the army's commissary department. Conflict of j i j interest had dimmed his eyes to the realities of what had been going | on. Beard may have been loyal, but he had only been a front man for a Breckinridge secessionist who had been reputed to have given $1,000 | to Albert Sidney Johnston and his Texas bound Confederates. Warner | ! ; could see Beard for what he truly was, and more, if he would only look a bit closer. For example, Banning and Hinchman, who were fast devel oping a monopoly of government supply, were "Union men, of course." But, their late business connections "are of, and with the most out- 64 rageous secessionists in this part of the state." Benito Wilson was a case in point. Not only had he secured a $40,000 contract to supply medicinal wine to the government, but, through his contacts with Banning, he was able— without any questions being asked by the mili- 65 tary— to join in the development in and around Drum Barracks. i | This was before the day of security checks as they are known to the present generation. But, to the critics of Carleton, the character of the Wilson's of Los Angeles County had been well estab lished. Conway knew it. So did other correspondents to the northern press. For Carleton to argue military necessity had been naivete in its simplist form. Everyone knew of those gala parties at Lake Vineyard and had recognized them as fetes to butter up Carleton in 66 order to get fat government contracts. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 153 These were the conditions that ought to be investigated, and the Conways and Barrows had repeatedly asked General Wright to act. | But he had proved to be no more help in these instances than he had | been at anytime before. Still ambivalent to a fault, he had vacillated I S on policy so much that he had been constantly in trouble with the Union i Jpeople, not only in Los Angeles County, but in the state generally. I i Carleton had left for Arizona and New Mexico, and local ten sions had been eased with the subsequent removal of the collaboration- J ist Colonel Forman, Nevertheless. Wright's rapport with the loyalists j had not improved— even with the appointment of the more acceptable i Colonel Curtis. Not only did Wright continue the lax policy in awarding government supply contracts to secessionists, but, seemingly, he conspired to frustrate the ambitions of loyal business men in other endeavors as well. To Los Angeles Unionists an especially sore point had been the vacillating policy that General Wright had followed toward miners on Santa Catalina Island. Though rumor had suggested that the miners were really secessionists using their activities as a cover to 67 attack coastal steamers, loyal citizens could only gasp with i ] amazement when Wright's peremptory order had told F. A. Gregory, a strong Union man, to leave the island "forthwith, and not to venture 68 to it again." Gregory was a captain at Drum Barracks, but no ne glect of his military responsibilities had caused his expulsion. Rather, he had been caught in the tug of war that had been developing between powerful financial interests that were threatening a shift of control from Los Angeles to San Francisco. Wright had become in volved only as an unwitting agent— another example of his duplicity, Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. of having the wool pulled over his eyes. Of all the criticisms leveled at "Granny Wright," as Conway | was want to call him, the most frequently heard had been the same as i i voiced originally by Henry D. Barrows. Time after time, secessionists ! had been arrested, but let go on the orders of General Wright. The state law had been specific, even to defining not only the nature of crimes from overt treason to malicious slander of the government, but 70 t it had spelled out the punishment as well. Nevertheless, in case I | after case, Wright had either dismissed the charges, or had let the | accused go with no more than a slap on the wrist. Such was the j treatment that had been accorded E. J. C. Kewen and Henry Hamilton | when that pair of Southern sympathizers had been arrested and sent to Alcatraz. An "oath of allegiance" had been administered, and they were quickly released. In itself, this had been bad enough. But, later, what had been especially galling to the local Unionists had been the "victory" celebration that the local secessionists had held at El Monte. Kewen had been the honored guest, and was also the j | featured speaker of the occasion. He had always been a masterful j orator, but, this time, he had really outdone himself when he reached I the climax of his tirade against the government. He had taken the oath that had been required of him, but, he had boasted to his fellows at El Monte, he had done it only after refusing it twice? 71 until it had been altered sufficiently to his liking. Such toadying to traitors had been the usual way with "Toleration" i Wright, and the loyal press throughout the state had taken up the 72 cry for his replacement. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 155 After much travail among the Unionists, sufficient influence seems to have developed so that General Wright was finally relieved. | General Irwin McDowell came out from the East and had assumed command i in San Francisco. Instead of going East and out of the state, as his i I ! critics had hoped he would do, Wright had been continued in a sub ordinate position as Commander of the District of California. Before j j | he stepped down, however, he had delivered a "Farewell Address"— an ' open letter to the Adjutant General of the United States Army— in i ! which he had justified his policies while in general command at the Presidio. Using much of the same language that he had written to j j Henry D. Barrows about the problems in Los Angeles County, he defended ! the ambivalence that had always governed his actions. As Wright had seen them, the tasks which faced him at the i I beginning of his command had been almost insurmountable. To overcome them he had "had to be watchful, vigilant, and firm" but in a restrain- ! ed way so as "not to create unnecessary alarm in the public mind" by hasty and ill-considered action. If he had proceeded without caution, if he had yielded to the "insane demands of the radical press," General Wright had argued, he would have filled the prisons merely to gratify personal jealousy and hatred. As a consequence, there would have been such an outburst of indignation that it was 73 "almost certain that Civil War and bloodshed would have followed." ! To Charles Conway, the "twaddle" of Wright's defense of his policies was the worst that the public had been treated since Downey's manifesto on coercion had given so much encouragement to the sympa thizers with rebellion. Not only that, but it was an insult and a | Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 156 disgrace, the Amador Gasette had echoed. Moreover, it was poor thanks from one who had grown gray while In the public pay; from one who I | should have been more sensitive to the peoples' will. If only he had | listened, Wright could have enjoyed the wholehearted support of the great mass of loyal Californians instead of incurring their dis pleasure. But, no, the people had been denied when they should have i been encouraged. Instead of resolution in the face of outspoken treason, the too frequent response to those who had warned General Wright of danger had been "keep still, or you will inaugurate a 74 civil war." i l Wright did step down, and the news had been published with relish in the loyal press.^ He had stayed in a commanding position in California, but he was no longer the free agent that he had been. With the arrival of McDowell, expectations had been that sterner measures would be ordered. Copperheads and secessionists who had enjoyed Wright's benevolence could no longer expect leniency at the hands of the military. But, the Confederates had not been sure, for i a new man does not always mean a new policy. Consequently, McDowell I j had been put to the test. Charles L. Weller, postmaster of San Fran- | cisco and brother to John B. Weller, former governor, was the guinea pig. In what Charles Conway interpreted as a deliberate challenge to General McDowell, Weller had addressed a Copperhead meeting in such 76 tones that he had been reported immediately for treason. Arrested and brought before McDowell, Weller had been found guilty enough to be detained for over two weeks before he was permitted to take the j oath of allegiance. Then, with more teeth in the warning than General Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. i 157 I Wright had ever required, Weller had had to post a $25,000 bond for future good conduct.^ Such had been McDowell's response to the challenge front the i friends of rebellion. His quick action, not only in the Weller case, I but in the subsequent reversal of other of Wright's policies, had not j only been a warning to those who would question the federal authority I in California, but had had a salutary affect on Unionism throughout the state. Loyalists could now take heart. Things were really going to be different under the new commander. "Granny Wrightism" was on | the wane. Even in Los Angeles prospects for the Unionists had begun to look up, especially after McDowell had paid a visit to the southern I I part of the state. Coming by steamer to San Pedro, he had gone first to San Diego before coming back to Los Angeles. After a brief tour of inspection in San Diego, he had returned to San Pedro for a more extended stay in the county. While there, he had held earnest con versations with local Unionists--a practice that Wright had promised, but had never done, A committee of three, Charles Conway of the i i News, William G. Still, Los Angeles postmaster, and Dr. A. B. Hayward, j spent considerable time with McDowell, acquainting him "with the true 78 condition in this part of the state. Each of the committee had come I away from the meeting heartened by the general's response to their comments, and his confident manner in regard to the Union. As Conway had stated it in an editorial afterwards, "there is not an iota of 79 'Copperhead' sentiment in General McDowell's heart." The war had not yet been ended, but the Unionists of Los Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Angeles had begun to breathe a bit more easily. I I I I 1 I Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. NOTES 1 Hayes, Pioneer Notes, pp. 261-263. 2 Ibid., p. 263. 3 J. J. Warner was identified as "Viejo," Los Angeles News, September 6, 1864; August 25, 1865. 4 Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 263. i 5 | Lorrin L. Morrison, Warner, the Man and Ranch (Los Angeles, ! 1962), p. 78. Barrows had made a special trip to Washington to secure j his appointment as marshal, Los Angeles Star, October 5, 1861. j 6 l Alta California, September 19, 20, 24, 1861; Semi-Weekly [ Southern News, September 25, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 48. ! 7 | Alta California, September 24, 1861. 8 Los Angeles Star, September 25, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 49, Item 253. 9 Los Angeles Star, September 28, 1861. 10 Horace Bell, On the Old West Coast (New York, 1931), p. 74. Bell's loose use of the words "without end" should be questioned, but the essence of his testimony may be accepted. 11 ; Alta California, September 20, 1861. The most exaggerated ! rumor had put the total at 2,000 "ready to rendezvous." Ibid., September 9, 1861. Hamilton's denial was given in Los Angeles Star, September 14, 1861. However, Brent in his Memoirs, p. 53, confirmed that Los Angeles had been the "mecca" for Confederate sympathizers, but had limited the number of local "secesh" to about 200 men. 12 C. C. Clendenon, "Dan Showalter— California Secessionist," California Historical Society Quarterly, XL (December, 1961), 309-325, gives a review of his Civil War experiences. Except when footnoted separately, this account depends upon Clendenon. 13 A typical Warner report to Carleton— a trip from Los Angeles to Yuma— is recorded in War of the Rebellion, Set. I, Vol. 50, Part I, pp. 782-785. Cf. Brent, Memoirs, p. 53. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 160 j San Bernardino Weekly Patriot. December 7, 1861, in Hayes' i Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, Item 41. 1 15 San Francisco Herald. December 12, 1861. | 16 , Clendenon said that there were only sixteen with Showalter, but Edwin A. Sherman claimed 25 men, then 18, were in the party. San Bernardino Weekly Patriot, December 7, 28, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, i Vol. 48, Items 44 and 47. 17 j Semi-Weekly Southern News, November 27, 1861, in Hayes' i Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, Item 46. The date indicated was penned in, ! apparently by Hayes, but is in error. In another account, Alta California, September 19, 1861, Warner (as Seldon) had reported that several parties--one of a score or more; another of 40-50 men--had gathered at El Monte or had been seen on their way to Temecula and Arizona. 18 Biographical Sketch of Gen. George W. Bowie, Bancroft Collection. 19 Henry H. Goldman, "Southern Sympathy in Southern Cali fornia," » IV (°ct‘» 1965)> 577-586; William J. Hunsaker, "Lansford W. Hastings' Project For the Invasion and Conquest of Arizona and New Mexico For the Southern Confederacy," Arizona Historical Review, IV (July, 1931), 5-12. 20 Several writers have mentioned that such a letter was supposed to have been written from Showalter to General Wright. It was found, of all places, in Hayes' "Miscellaneous Notes," part of the collection in the Bancroft Library. Perhaps Hayes came to possess it during the time he had been employed by Bancroft as a collector of historical memorabilia. 21 War of the Rebellion, Ser. I, Vol. 50, Part I, p. 763. 22 MS copy of speech in Maclay's handwriting, Huntington Library. 23 Ibid. Also see War of the Rebellion, Ser. I, Vol. 50, Part I, pp. 759-760. 24 Unidentified clipping, July 5, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, Item 19. 25 Sammel, "Military Units, Southern California," pp. 238-239. Cf. War of the Rebellion, Ser. I, Vol. 50, Part I, pp. 551-553. 2 6 Diaries of John Brown, Jr. (not related directly to Osawatomie Brown), Beattie Papers, Huntington Library. Hereafter cited as Diaries of John Brown, Jr. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 161 Abel Stearns to Brig. Gen. E. V. Sumner, August 10, 1861, in Stearns Letters, pp. 77-81 (photocopy of letter press book in possess ion of Dr. John W. Caughey, UCLA), MS Collection, Huntington Library. ■ 2®Los Angeles Star, October 5, 1861, in Hayes1 Scrapbooks, I Vol. 48, near Item 47. Davidson's account of the affair at San i Bernardino is given in War of the Rebellion. Ser. I, Vol. 50, Part I, pp. 614-615. 2^San Francisco Bulletin, September 25, 1861. Because of the tense times, many ordinary thieves were mistaken as secessionists. Los Angeles Star, September 16, 1861; Semi-Weekly Southern News, September 20, 1861. ! 3®Los Angeles Star, October 5, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, near Item 47. i 31War of the Rebellion, Ser. I, Vol. 50, Part I, pp. 569-570. ! 32Col. J. H. Carleton to John G. Downey, June 18, 1861. i Archives of the Secretary of State of California, File 1195, as cited j by Scammel, "Military Units, Southern California," pp. 229-230. 1 33Scammel, "Military Units, Southern California," pp. 237ff. | 34Ibid., pp. 229-230. 35Ibid., pp. 229-230. 3^Pitt, Decline of the Californios, p. 234. Both Scammel and Pitt concluded that the Los Angeles Mounted Rifles was a Confederate ! unit. Sanchez was a second lieutenant in that company. Los Angeles ! Star, March 9, 1861. In the light of Captain Ridley's proposal for : a Confederate coup, one might very well agree with them. Cf. Brent, Memoirs, pp. 51-54. 3^San Francisco Morning Call as quoted in the Los Angeles Star, December 28, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, near Item 53. 39 A. J. King was arrested for disloyalty by H. D. Barrows, War of the Rebellion, Ser. I, Vol. 50, Part I, p. 997. Henry Hamilton's arrest was noted in the Los Angeles Star, November 1, 1862, Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 50, Part II, Item 367. The Los Angeles Star was banned from the mails in March, 1862; see Los Angeles Star, March 1,8, 1862; Los Angeles News, February 28, April 9, 1862; Alta California, April 15, 1862. King commented on his arrest in Los Angeles News, July 12, 1867. 4°Scammel, "Military Units, Southern California," p. 239. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 162 41 Pico transported the balance of the arms to Fort Alcatraz in November, 1861. Ibid., p. 239. 42 Ibid., pp. 238-239. 43 Ibid. . p. 241. 44 Sacramento Union, April 30, 1862. The two Unionists were identified by Conway in the Semi-Weekly Southern News, September 6, 1861 in an election story. The language similarities suggests that Conway may have been "Mejas." 45 War of the Rebellion. Ser. I, Vol. 50, Part I, p. 4. 46 "Mejas" to the Sacramento Union, April 30, 1862. Barrows i had echoed similar sentiments. Cf. War of the Rebellion, Ser. I, | Vol. 50, Part I, pp. 996-998. 47 Henry D. Barrows to Brig. Gen. George Wright, April 10, 1862, in War of the Rebellion. Ser. I, Vol. 50, Part I, pp. 997. 48 Ibid. King's actions had been interpreted as a violation of the state law on loyalty which had forbidden the display of any rebel insignia, any flag, or any "device" of the description used by the rebels. Cf. Statutes of California (1863), p. 350. 49 Sacramento Union, April 30, 1862. "*^George Wright to Henry D. Barrows, April 19, 1862, in War of the Rebellion, Ser. I, Vol. 50, Part I, p. 1015. 51 Ibid. 52 San Francisco Morning Call, letter from "Union," Los Angeles, April 11, 1862, in Hayes* Scrapbooks, Vol. 50, Part II, Item 288. 53 "Viejo" [Warner] , in Alta California, November 10, 1863; Los Angeles News, May 21, 1864. 54 Biographical Sketch of Gen. George W. Bowie, Bancroft Collection. ^"Mejas" [Conway?], in Sacramento Union, April 30, 1862. 56 Ibid. ~^Ibid. "Mejas" had included comment from the San Francisco 58 San Francisco Herald-News, March 28, 1862, in Hayes' Call. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 163 Scrapbooks, Vol. 50, Part II, Item 280. Direct reference is made to articles in the Semi-Weekly Southern News. 59 "Seldon" [Warner ] to Alta California, Los Angeles, March | 2, 1862, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 50, Part II, Item 281. j ^"Vindicator" to Alta California, May 15, 1862. Conway | identified Warner as "Vindicator" in the Los Angeles News, August 25, ! 1864. I ^*Los Angeles News, October 29, 1864. ! ! I g2 | James H. Carleton to Abel Stearns, San Francisco, August | 22, 1861, in Stearns-Gaffey Collection. i 63 i Los Angeles News, October 29, 1864. I 64 "Union" to San Francisco Morning Call, Los Angeles, April | 11, 1862, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 50, Part II, Item 288. ^Deed of land by B. D. Wilson and Phineas Banning, extract of record in Book 6 of Deeds, Los Angeles County Records, p. 389, in Wilson Papers. Upon this grant, Drum Barracks had been constructed. ^"Union Man" to San Francisco Morning Call, Los Angeles, April 21, 1862, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 50, Part II, Item 291. 67 J. M. Guinn, "The Lost Mines of Santa Catalina," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, IX (1912), 43-48, explored the rumors of Confederates on Catalina Island. The miners were Southern, but no real plots had developed. Another view has suggested that General Wright intended an Indian reservation on the island. Theodore Kornweibel, Jr., "The Occupation of Santa Catalina Island During the Civil War," California Historical Society Quarterly. XLVI (Dec., 1967), 345-357. 68 j Los Angeles News, June 11, 1864. The General Wright i Mining Corporation had filed papers just a month before Gregory's expulsion. The coincidence of these events added substance to the criticism of General Wright. See Los Angeles News, March 11, 1864, "mining notices." ^Los Angeles News, January 22, July 30, and October 29, 1864, tells briefly of the attempts by James Lick to establish claims to Catalina Island on the basis of Mexican Land Grants. 70 Law of 1863 as quoted in the Los Angeles News, September 6, 1864. Cf. California Statutes, 1863, pp. 556-567. ^Hios Angeles News, July 2, 1864. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 164 72 Ibid., May 12, 1864, quoting the San Francisco Daily American Flag, n.d. 73 Los Angeles News, July 2, 1864. ^Amador Gazette as quoted in the Los Angeles News, July 14, 1864, along with editorial comments by the editor, Charles R. Conway. ^Marysville Appeal, selection reprinted with editorial comments by the Los Angeles News, March 30, 1865. 76 Ibid., August 2, 1864. ^Weller took the oath of allegiance on August 17, 1864. Ibid, August 23, 1864. 78 Los Angeles News, May 23, 1865. 79 Ibid., May 20, 1865. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER VI DISLOYALTY ON THE HOME FRONT When General McDowell had finished his tour of inspection in Los Angeles, his party was escorted by a group of local citizens down to Port San Pedro so that it might take the ship back to San Francisco. While the little steamer Saginaw was making its way through the sand bars out to the open sea, and while the escort party was preparing its return trip to the city, Charles Conway and his fellow Unionists had turned their thoughts to the possible effect the general's visit would have in the southern part of the state. They had great hopes from the new policies already instituted by McDowell, and had been heartened also by his more resolute attitude toward the militant segment of Southern sympathizers. However, as they had thought about their past experiences, they had been quick to remember that there was much in Los Angeles County that did not meet the eye. It was true that there was no longer any threat of overt military action in the area. Presence of federal troops had frustrated any Confederate hopes on that score. Even fears of another invasion from Texas had declined once the California Column had gotten into position along the Arizona-New Mexican front. Carleton's forces, combined with the changing pattern of military strategy in the east, had spelled the end of any dreams to recoup Confederate losses when, 165 ___________ ________ Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 166 on March 26-28, Canby's Coloradoans had stopped Baylor's Texans near La Glorieta Pass, New Mexico.* This, for California Confederates, had | been the "Gettysburg of the Southwest." All subsequent schemes— i Showaiter's, Harpending's or Gwin's— had been will-of-the wisp efforts 2 to establish Confederate power on the Pacific Coast. i But there had been much more to the question of loyalty than I just overt treason of the type that had sent men across the desert to i Dixie or had led them to conspire against the government's authority | on the home front. When it came to the fine points of loyalty, basic ! attitudes had also been involved, as well as individual public per- I i formances. Union men had been alert to these factors, and had used them I as a guide to question all those who had professed their loyalty to i j the government. "Oh, yes, we are loyal," had been the reply generally, particularly when the circumstances had involved a question of credit in the San Francisco market, or a lucrative contract with an agent of i ! the federal government. But, the truth of the matter was that Los I 3 Armeies had been a disloyal county. Most of its citizens were, as William H. Davis had called them, "third class Californians" who had spoken with forked tongues.^ They had prated their loyalty before the public, and had demanded that all rebels should be dealt with sternly, even if it meant arrest and hanging. But, at the same time, | they had consistently refused to serve as soldiers in California or in the east. Even while enjoying the prosperity that the war had | brought, they had struck back— like the venomous copperhead— at the | i hand that had produced the wealth. Moreover, harboring no love for l Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 167 the force that the Union army had represented, they had given little of their substance to relieve the sufferings of the soldiers in the I j field. First, and last, it had been a "secessionist" attitude that had governed the sensibilities of the Southerners in Los Angeles j j County. This had been the dominant influence that had governed their actions during the whole of the rebellion. i These were the conditions that had made Conway and other Unionists so unhappy, that had made it so uncomfortable for them every time they had wanted to display their fidelity to the federal j government. Of course, circumstances had not always produced a major j crisis. Sometimes the events had been a bit ludicrous for their comic opera aspects. Yet, at other times, situations had developed wherein there had been real danger to men and property as deep seated animosities had boiled_to the surface. . Conway had been a propagandist, a member of the old school of extravagant journalism. For that reason he had often exaggerated his interpretation of the true state of affairs in the county. Neverthe less, he had made some telling points, as an in-depth analysis of l | conditions will show. A look at the government's policies in raising troops is a beginning point. Here, and in other aspects of life on the home front, one may test Conway's judgment that Los Angeles had not only been non-conformist and obstructionist, but substantially disloyal as well. Initially, when the decision had finally been made to request troops from the several states, the federal government had relied upon the traditional voluntary system to raise an army. Howv Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 168 ever, when the frustrations of too many Bull Runs had made it apparent ! that the conflict was not going to be as short-lived as had been ! expected, voluntaryism had given way to conscription. Both govern- I ments, Confederate and Union, had been forced to resort to the draft in order to fill the unending demands for more and more troops. I California, like other Union states, had been susceptible to the effects of this changed policy, and had been alerted to an early j application of the draft law. However, Major-General Edward F. Beale, | acting on his own authority, had suspended the proclamation for fear j that its application would have caused open rebellion in the state. Lincoln had sustained him in this unilateral action, leaving it to Beale to appraise the circumstances locally, and to decide if, and when, the law would operate in California.^ Frequent warnings were voiced that the draft was about to be applied, especially when quotas had been slow in being filled. But, in the long run, voluntary en listments, encouraged by the federal and state bounty systems, had 6 more than filled the state quota of troops. In the beginning, as troops were being mustered into the i | California Volunteers, the state had not offered bounties to the enrollees. Eventually, however, the federal inducements had proved I insufficient to entice the requisite number of volunteers. Thus, California had entered the bounty system just as many of its sister states in the east had done. In each case, both on the national and the state level, the general pattern had been to offer bounties that varied with the length of enlistment and previous service record. The federal system had offered a $100.00 a year of enlistment (one to Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 169 three years), plus a bonus If the recruit was a veteran of at least j six months' service in either the regulars or the volunteers. General- i j ly, the bounty had been paid in allotments, one-third down and the balance pro-rated over the length of the recruit's service. California had followed this pattern when it entered the bounty program. At first, it gave a grant of $160 to each volunteer, adding this amount to the federal bounty. In addition, the state had added five dollars a month to the base rate of $16.00 which the federal government paid. Gradually, as the demand for troops had gone up, and it had become increasingly more difficult to secure voluntary enlistments, the state bounty had been raised to match the national grant of three hundred dollars for three-year enlistments. These bonuses, plus the total salary paid (national and state) had brought a total annual base pay of $1,356, or an average of $37.66 a month. Payment had been made in war-time currencies— gold coin and green backs. California, with its interest in native metaljhad favored payment entirely in gold. But, with federal insistence on greenback currency, the soldiers had been forced to accept their pay in both j forms of money: a little less than half their rate in gold coin, and i the balance in paper. To those living in the affluent society of 1970, a salary of $37.00 a month would hold little attraction, even with clothes, food and lodging thrown in. But to those who can remember the $21.00 base pay that came to draftees at the start of Hitler's war, the pay scale of the Civil War would seem a bonanza. Even to Californians of that day, these wages had offered a vast improvement over the general Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 170 opportunities at hand. As the editor o£ the Los Angeles Hews had I pointed out, it was a lot better pay than one might expect from 7 plowing, haying, or driving a team. Consequently, it had been expected that the government would have little difficulty in raising the county's quota of volunteers. However, this had not proved to be the case, and Los Angeles i fell behind in its enlistments. This had worried editor Conway so that, in issue after issue, he had harped constantly upon the theme of what would happen if more enthusiasm was not shown about volunteer ing. The draft would have to be imposed to make up any deficiencies. Provost Marshal Fry had given notice of that fact. In a telegram to local officials, that state officer had given notice that "all accounts i are to be made up" and that surveys would be made in all sub-districts 8 of the state to see if any are deficient. There had been deficiencies in quotas throughout the state, and it was estimated that four to five thousand men would be required by the draft to make up for the lack of volunteers. "In Los Angeles County," said Conway, "nearly the whole quota will have to be turned 9 i out by the wheels of the draft." There was no other way, for the | new federal law had narrowed the escape route that had allowed ex emptions by providing an alternate for the draft board. Under the ! new provisions, no person liable to the draft— even if he had not I been called up— could serve as a substitute. Thus, the available j supply of substitutes had been greatly reduced, the more so because j aliens "who had voted" were also included in the list of prospective enrollees. This changed circumstance had excited Conway, for he had Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 171 seen It as a means to force disloyal men to declare themselves; either to submit to the federal authority and assume their share in the com- ! | mon defense of the country, or to "go to Dixie where they belong.1 1 Of course, the members of the Los Angeles chivalry community had done neither, nor had they lessened, by any perceptible degree, their opposition to the whole system of "coercion." Frequent pro testers like "a certain schoolmaster in El Monte," as well as a county resident named Bright, had come under the watchful eye of the local 1 provost marshal, J. J. Warner. Others, too, had come under suspicion, ' and Conway had constantly warned them (without specifying names) that the federal government had troops aplenty to enforce the draft, if necessary.^ However, enlistments had increased, particularly from ! the effects of an advertising-propaganda campaign that had suggested techniques of a later generation. Veterans became prime targets for the recruiting agents, and their efforts had had a salutary affect on those who signed up for another hitch. Large numbers of the Cali- j | fomia Volunteers, serving in Utah and in Arizona, re-enlisted for another three year hitch, once their original term of service had 12 expired. But, the recruiters had not left it to the line officers ; alone, but had employed the general public as well. Any person who prevailed upon a raw recruit and got him to the mustering officer, had received ten dollars. For a recruit who had seen previous service, i the bonus to the "deputy recruiter" had been increased to fifteen ! 13 : dollars. Some volunteers were obtained in this fashion, but, in the i main, it was not until the state had begun actively to recruit native Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. I 172 j Californians that Los Angeles County had been able to pick up the ! I slack in their enlistments. Under the leadership of Jose Antonio I | Sanchez, the local Californios had rallied to the banner of the "Native Cavalry of California" Several of these units were organized throughout the state, but not without some difficulty. Local politi- i clans, particularly in Los Angeles County, had seen evil effects if "aliens" were thus elevated because of their military status, and 14 had done what they could to undermine the project. Their activities i | had proved irksome, but, for the most part, the recruiting had gone I ! ahead unmolested. ! To many in the Anglo community, the sight of native Cali fornians dressed in blue, and mounted in defense of the Union, had been evidence of a new day in California. However, it had not been patriotism alone that had appealed to the native recruit, though some Californios, like Salvador Vallejo, had given positive evidence of their love for the United States Government. Other inducements had had their appeal also. Love of adventure, life in the saddle, and the easy-come, easy-go Yankee dollars--all of these had been added i attractions to the caballero class in Spanish California. Then, it j . i ■ ■ should be remembered, not the least in significance were the momentous events that had been transpiring in Mexico. Maxmillian and the French, with their dreams of an American empire, had come to those shores, and were operating in Sonora and in the lands to the south. To many native Californians the projected march to Arizona-New Mexico had offered more than a chance to forestall any juncture between the Confederates of California with those of the South. It was, also, an opportunity Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 173 to save Patria Mia (my own native land) from either the Confederates | or the French. I Whatever the inducements, Los Angeles native Californians had signed with the recruiters, and, by March, 1864, some eighty-two were 16 ready to be mustered into the service. Sanchez had continued as I | captain of the company, while Lieutenants Z. Streeter and J. Clement Cox were appointed as subordinate officers. Colonel James F. Curtis | had been authorized to accept the services of the native cavalry, and this he had done. The Los Angeles company joined with those coming j in from neighboring Santa Barbara County and other parts of the state, 17 and had settled into camp life at Drum Barracks. Thus, inspite of the rebel Influences which Conway claimed had been brought to bear against their enlistment, Californios had i entered the United States Army. Many saw service only locally, but a major contingent did patrol duty along the border from Arizona to Texas. Minute though it had been to the total outcome of the war, their garrison duty had been significant to the Confederates of 18 ! Southern California. Their presence had filled one more chink i I against the disloyal winds that had blown from out of Los Angeles County. But the winds had continued to blow, unabated, and the Unionists in Los Angeles had continued to have trouble with disloyal attitudes on the home front. Not the least of their difficulty was in the area of patriotism of the type normally associated with the Fourth of July and other displays of loyalty that were peculiar to war-time conditions. In these instances, however, it had been much Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 174 more difficult to discern manifest disloyalty. Draft evaders, or even those who had exerted influence against volunteering, had been much ! easier to detect. But were stay-at-homes disloyal if they did not I participate in public displays of patriotism? Conway had argued that ! it was so, but Henry Hamilton had wailed long and loud against such ; charges. Just because a man did not wear a flag across his breast, | ! j trudge in a dusty parade, and shout "hurrah for Abe Lincoln" was no I indication that he was not loyal to the principles of the Declaration J of Independence.*^ Nevertheless, the American scene had always been one where i public demonstrations had been associated with displays of personal loyalty. Torch light parades, and all the paraphernalia that went with them, had not been just Fourth of July affairs, but, especially in Henry Hamilton's day, were an integral part of exuberant America that frequently had given vent to its private feelings in such mass displays. Thus, failure to join in Union rallies, and, especially, failure to observe the national holidays, were indications of different attitudes than those that loyal Americans had traditionally held. i i An opportunity for Los Angeles to display its feelings toward j the war had first been offered in May, 1861, when a Grand Union Demonstration was planned for Saturday, the 25th of the month. The I avowed purpose, as stated by the committee in charge of arrangements, was to invite all "staunch Union men" from throughout the county to come and demonstrate "that we should be hence-forth and forever known 20 as a Union city." Columbus Sims was made chairman, and under his direction, the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 175 committee had set to work to make the occasion one to remember. Business men were prevailed upon to close their doors, and the I | j buildings and streets had been decorated with patriotic colors. The i old brass cannon, a relic from the days of the conquest, was hauled to the top of the hill behind the Court House so that a salute could | be fired at the appropriate moment. i Through the good offices of Fhineas Banning, major-general in 21 the state militia at Wilmington, the military establishment in the I 1 county had been invited to participate. General Carleton brought his I troops from Fort Tejon; Colonel Beale's Dragoons also had furnished a brass band to lead the procession. At nine o'clock in the morning, the Union Club members— 150 strong— had gathered at their hall and marched to the Plaza where otherc companies had already formed. The Los Angeles Greys, preceded by Beale's musicians, had formed the escort body for the national emblem, a new flag which Banning intended to present to the Union Club after fitting ceremonies had marked the occasion. As the procession had formed, two hundred and twenty persons were strung out along the route. Included were the military units of i | the county, members of the Union Club, the mayor of Los Angeles, Damien Marchessault, members of the common council and other municipal officers (but no county officers), members of the local clergy, the French Benevolent Society, and sundry private citizens on foot and on horseback. Their route had taken them in a round about way through the center of town; from the Plaza down Main Street to Spring Street; back along Spring Street to First Street, then around to Main Street again to stop in front of the Court House. Here the assemblage had Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 176 been treated to more martial music, speeches by General Ezra Drown, General James H. Carleton, and Captain Winfield Scott Hancock. I ! | At the climax of the ceremonies, General Banning had stepped i ! forward, delivered an impassioned address on loyalty, and, then, had turned to pick up the flag which he had prepared for the occasion. i ; Just as he handed it over, and as it was about to be tied to the lanyard of the flagpole, confusion and consternation had broken out! The flag in hand was not the one that Banning had ordered, the national I ! emblem with all of the symbols of the Union that should have been on I j it. Neither was it an older flag— one from a former day when fewer i states had been in the Union. No, it was "a brand, spanking new flag— a 'secessionist' flag that had only twenty-four stars instead of thir- ' ty-four!" "Treason!" Henry Hamilton had shouted in mock horror as he 22 had chortled in glee over what had happened. i Another flag had been obtained quickly and was raised above the court house, but the incident had rankled the minds of the Union ists ever after. Frequently, Conway had returned to the incident to ^ castigate the deviltry that had made such a mockery of the flag and the honor due it. It was this kind of thing that had made any attempt | to display loyalty such an up hill business in Los Angeles. The in- j cident had been a prank, admittedly, but it had held such overtones ! of disaffection that its Import had not been lost on the loyal men | of the county. Another attempt had been made to demonstrate loyalty to the ! Union when the Fourth of July had come around the following month. | Despite all the efforts that had been put forth, it had been "small Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 177 pickings" compared to what editor Conway of the News had felt should have been. The military was invited as it had been before, but fewer | came than on the previous occasion. The rank and file of Los Angeles citizens, "remarkable for the paucity of their numbers," said Henry 23 Hamilton, had paraded to the Plaza, then on to Louis Sainsevain's I shady gardens for speeches and a picnic. The old brass cannon was employed again, and thirty-four salutes had rent the air. Neverthe less , it had been a dismal affair, a sad commentary on the state of affairs in Los Angeles County. i The crux of the difficulty, on this occasion and in any sub sequent effort to display Union sentiment, went back to the flag in cident at the court house in May. The affair had been laughable at the time, especially for the embarrassment it had caused "General" Banning, but there had been a heavy undercurrent of danger that caused considerable worry. Reports had been circulated that a band of armed men would attempt to break up the meeting, and the situation could have been explosive.^ Consequently, it was decided after that ex perience that there would be no more mass displays of this type, and |that any celebrations would be small and private, rather than large- 25 scale public gatherings. Phineas Banning seems to have been a major force in making this decision; why is an interesting question. Perhaps he still smarted from the personal embarrassment of the flag incident, and had over reacted to the situation. Or, in the face of continued rumor, he may have really believed that trouble would develop if overt demonstrations gave new opportunities to the dissidents in the county. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 178 More likely, he had felc as Conway had done that it really would make no difference if celebrations were planned anyway. They would not be attended by a community in which three-fourths of the citizens held no appreciation for the real meaning of the Declaration of In dependence.^** Whatever the reason, Banning and the "wealthy and well-bred" i members of the Los Angeles community had resolved to soft pedal any further commemoration of the Fourth of July0 This was their attitude when Banning and his friends had celebrated the Fourth, even in 1861. Gathering at Lake Vineyard, a small group from Wilmington and Los Angeles had partaken of the pleasant hospitality for which the Wilsons were famous. During the day, commemorative exercises were held, but in a subdued manner. The only event that had been, in the least, out of character, was a speech by Banning in which he had waved the flag 27 and called for the abolition of slavery. Such a theme should have been no real surprise, for Banning was committed, personally, to the cause of the Union. But, for him to have delivered such a speech in the Wilson home— of all places— must have caused some wry faces once i i the news of the event had become known in the city. If Banning was a Union man, it was equally true that Wilson was not. If he had not been an outright conspirator with the Confederates of California, Wilson . . . at least, had been overtly sympathetic with the cause of the South. He had always been so, though his conduct had been discreet. Others however, knew of his sympathies, and had felt free to write him about their common concerns. Typical of such communications had been one from Dr. John S. Griffin, brother-in-law to Albert Sidney Johnston, Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. who had written worriedly about the success o£ the Confederate 28 armies. Wilson, himself, must have harbored similar worries and j j have expressed his anxious thoughts; else why would he have received I such encouragement as has come through his wife from family friends in I ! Oakland? I | Tell Mr. Wilson please not to be so sad and fearful about the South but have an abiding faith that all will be well that . . . 1 they were never stronger & in better conditions than now to achieve their independence . . . Phineas Banning had been close to his friends both in business and in social relationships, and he could not have helped knowing their | political feelings. However, he was an opportunist who had not let j politics interfere with choosing his friends, or in making a profit. Among the guests that day at Lake Vineyard had been General Cariefcon and other members of the local military establishment. These were the men who were equipping the California Column, and their contracts had been vital to the combined interests of Banning and Wilson. Hence, both of these men had been capable of submerging personal differences for the main chance. Banning could regale his audience with super i patriotism, and Wilson, Griffin, and any other member of the chivalry | crowd could ignore any personal implications, knowing that Banning's words were intended only for their desired effect upon the military. Such an attitude smacks of crass compromise with principles and he had been so judged by his critics. Nevertheless, Banning had not been alone in thinking that business opportunities should be cultivated inspite of any dichotomy that might develop between ideal and practice. Neither had he been the only one to urge discretion in with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission 180 the face of militant attitudes; that a restraining hand ought to be held on public demonstrations of the kind which had caused so many I J anxious moments at the court house. Harris Newmark, another prominent 30 member of the business community, had been so inclined; so had other merchants in Los Angeles. They had feared that unchecked sectional feelings— and the violence that might develop therefrom— would have . , 31 an adverse effect on business opportunities. Despite the decision by Banning and his friends not to allow public celebration of the Fourth, observances had been held— though not of the type that many had desired. For example, in 1862, Union men in Los Angeles had gotten up a subscription and had purchased a new flag for the court house. While it was being raised to the breeze, the usual thirty-four gun salute was fired, and, afterwards, the town had been treated to a concert by a soldiers' band. At Camp Latham a more elaborate affair had celebrated the day: speeches, the reading of Washington's Farewell Address, a music treat by the post band- all topped off by a banquet in the afternoon. The following year, however, local feelings had reached such a pitch that no celebrations i iwere held. "Viejo" Warner had expected that something would be done, particularly when Henry Hamilton's Star had carried so many elaborate editorials on the Declaration of Independence and the significance of the Fourth of July. Such comments from Hamilton, who had become the virtual mouthpiece of the common council, had led Warner to hope that 32 they would "plan ceremonies fitting the occasion." But nothing of the kind had happened. As far as any public demonstration by the municipal officers (or of the county, for that matter) the day had Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 181 come and gone like any ordinary day of the year. In 1864. Charles Conway and his fellow Unionists had deter- I ' ! mined that the Fourth would not, again, go by unnoticed. They had I gotten word that El Monte was going to celebrate, so they had reasoned that if that "hot bed of treason" could get up a demonstration, then j Los Angeles had no excuse for doing otherwise. El Monte had its celebration, and was duly complimented by 33 | the Los Angeles News for the dignity of the occasion. Only one | minor incident had marred the day, a fracas involving two small boys in a fight over a flag. One boy, the son 'f a Mr. Reese, had been I waving a miniature flag when the step-son of a Mr. Parrish had made i some insulting remarks about it, warning that it had better not wave i I over him. Dared, young Reese had waved it, whereupon his tormentor had grabbed and torn the flag. This story had been aggravated out of proportion in the San Francisco press, but Conway had assured his readers that it had been an innocent affair among boys, and that was S 3 4 ; all. More might have developed out of the situation if troops j i from Drum Barracks had not been close by. Ten days after the cele bration in El Monte, forty soldiers were still camped on the grounds | of Mr. Heath where the festivities of the Fourth had been held. I Los Angeles had had no such trouble, but it had not had much | I of a celebration either. A committee of over twenty-five, members had j been organized with representatives from Santa Catalina Island, Drum I ! Barracks, and Wilmington joining those from Los Angeles City. They | had met often and laid elaborate plans for an evening of festivities, ; starting with a salute at sunset. Unfortunately, the anvils, which Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 182 were sometimes used for that purpose, had turned up missing and could not be found. Inquiries about the town had brought nothing but sly | grins and shrugged shoulders from all who had been asked the where abouts of the anvils. Thus dampened, the celebration had almost fizzled out before it had gotten started. Later in the evening, j j fireworks were shot off, a courtesy provided by "Messrs. [W. H.] 36 Buffum, Northrup, and others." Midway in the show, Banning and several coaches of Wilmlngtonltes had dashed into town, an anti- j climatic arrival to the grand entry that he would have liked to have j made. Nothing daunted, Banning had climbed down from his rig, dusted ! himself off, and mounted the platform to deliver another one of his 37 rousing diatribes against rebels and traitors. The whole experience had left a bad taste in the mouths of the "unconditional" Union men in Los Angeles. Instead of a "Red, White, and Blue" occasion, the affair had been "coppered" well in advance to ensure that it would be as the "secesh" would have it. Two men, 0. Morgan and S. B. Cox, had seen the drift of things in the work of the committee appointed to plan the day. In a paid advertisement two j i days before the Fourth, they had protested the make-up of the com mittee as one "composed, to a certain extent, of men openly opposed to the United States Government." Moreover, what the committee had proposed had been a "vile desecration of a sacred occasion, dearest to the heart of loyal Americans." Such an insult "would not be tolerated in any community other than where 'Copper on the brain* 38 was the prevailing epidemic.1" The day had been a disappointment, but, at least, it had passed Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 183 quietly with no more than an empty feeling for what might have been. But Los Angeles had not always been able to avoid the threat of j violence when patriotism had boiled over. One such instance had | | occurred when the J. W. Wilder & Co. had brought their "Polyorama of I 1 the Present War" to Los Angeles. Another was the armed attack on | | Postmaster William G. Still. i Wilder's "Polyorama of the Present War" was a travelling show which had featured large scale paintings of battles on the eastern front. The advertisements had claimed that the pictures had j been "taken from actual observations by Pearson Bros., the leading j j artists of the United States, and comprise over one thousand views j s of battle scenes and incidents of the recent rebellion, from the bombardment of Fort Sumter . . . to the last great battle." Land battles and naval engagements had been featured equally— the whole display, said Editor Conley, had had an electric effect on the viewers, 39 and had brought spontaneous shouts of approval. But dissidents had been in the audience, too, and they had made their opinions known. Their protests and ribald catcalls had raised such a noise that the : lecturer could hardly be heard above the din. Conway, in telling about the ruckus, could only wonder "where are the officers on such 40 an occasion?" i Perhaps the officers had not been needed at the Polyorama, but they certainly should have been present at the post office on the evening of July 7, 1863. News had been received in the city of Lee'8 retreat from Gettysburg and of Grant's victory at Vicksburg. Union men in Los Angeles were naturally jubilant and had set off some Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. firecrackers in celebration. However, the local "secesh" had been determined that "no demonstrations of joy upon this occasion would j be permittedand had moved to put a stop to the affair. Five or six armed men had punctuated their original warning with added threats against the post office clerk who had set off the offending torpedoes. j office by a side door, and into a news and fruit salesroom where he j j could be seen. The "secesh," perhaps fearing that Still was about to the post office had prepared to defend themselves. During the sub sequent melee, two men were attacked and had suffered serious injury. Mr. Pierce, one of the postal clerks, had been manhandled by the at tackers, and Noah Felch, a bystander to the affair, had suffered a 41 severe wound from being hit over the head with a pistol. As soon as the violence had broken out, word had gone out for the authorities to come. Fortunately, a detachment of troops from Banning's warehouse just outside of the city. When they heard of the trouble at the post office, the soldiers had come into town on the double. In a typical finish that Hollywood westerns have made famous, the troops had dashed to a stop before the Bella Union Hotel, quickly ran across the street to the post office, and immediately J 42 had restored order. Just at this moment, Postmaster Still had stepped out of his attack them, had immediately opened fire upon him. Still was not hit, but the ball had passed close to his head, and lodged in the wall behind him. The lights were immediately extinguished, and the men in Drum Barracks, on its way to Owens River, had just arrived at The street had quieted down, and the Union men had been with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission 185 I able to continue their celebration under the watchful eye of the I ( I military. But it had been an artificial peace without the real j ; circumstances being changed perceptibly. Southern sentiment had still i j been strong, and Los Angeles voices had continued to protest the ' authority of the federal government. Henry Hamilton, for one, became i | so blatant that, finally, his paper had been banned from the mails. ! j j Subsequently, he sold his interests in the Star (the equipment had ! * 3 gone to Banning's Wilmington Journal) and he had left the county for ■ ! 44 ! Arizona. But the opposition had not subsided, particularly among I I j Southerners like J. F. Bilderbeck and Dr. John S. Griffin who had not I 5 been able to resist shouting "hurrah" for Jefferson Davis and the | 45 i Confederacy every chance they got. I j On the whole, however, most of Los Angeles had been content ; to express their disaffection with the Union in more subtle ways. I Some, like schoolteachers, Mrs. Thomas Foster and Mr. William McKee, j refused to take the loyalty oath in 1863 when it had been first re- j 4 6 quired. Though they had later subscribed to the oath, their classes I i had not been particularly patriotic in their conduct. Teacher McKee, i for example, had permitted "his scholars to draw Secessionist flags | on their slates and to cheer for Jefferson Davis," and to give other i 47 i manifestations of their disloyalty toward the Union. ! ! Of all the examples of subtle disloyalty in Los Angeles County, perhaps the most significant had been its failure to support ! the United States Sanitary Commission and its companion agency, the | Christian Commission. While California, as a whole, had amazed the rest of the nation by the generosity of its gift ($1,233,831.31), the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 186 I residents of Los Angeles had contributed— in the words of Henry 48 Newmark— only "a small purse." Why so little money had been given— | why there had been such flagrant indifference to the appeals for i | contributions— is quickly evident from a review of the county's | ! response to the commissions' efforts in Los Angeles County. i Californian efforts in behalf of soldier relief had started in j 1862 when a spontaneous drive in San Francisco had raised $6,600. ' Subsequently, proposals had been made to systematize the work, and | the board of supervisors had taken the matter up. On September 10, a committee had been organized for the City and County of San Fran- 49 { cisco and, quickly, had raised another $2,600. The movement then i ' had spread into other localities until a state organization had been : effected. The Reverend 0. C. Wheeler had served as secretary and 50 ; actuary for California and the whole of the Pacific Coast. I | Residents of the Los Angeles area had responded to the initial i appeals for contributions, but had organized no agency to collect funds on a continuing basis. Neither had they donated in the pattern of other communities in the state. Only $300 had been raised in Los Angeles, itself, and about the same amount in Wilmington. This was a far cry from the $356,000 that San Francisco had raised— in three short monthsless, even, than other towns much smaller than Los Angeles had sent to the commission. Moreover, after this original spurt of interest, no other contributions had come in from Los Angeles County; not until the last month's of the war. What had rankled the Unionist of the county, particularly Charles Conway of the News, had been that, all the while, Los Angeles Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. residents had been claiming to be loyal citizens, professing to support I the federal government and the cause that was being fought out on the battlefields. Newspapers in the northern part of the state picked this up, and had asked, if this was so, why was it that they had not o52 contributed more to the soldier relief funds? I The answer, Conway had replied, was in the word "profess!" j They had claimed to be loyal, but, in far too many cases, their ] j i claims had been only a pretension. The residents of the county, | despite the economic troubles that drought years had brought them, had been able, in Conway's opinion, to make regular monthly contri- | butions to the Sanitary Fund, if they would only have practiced what ' 53 they had preached. In his newspaper, Conway had kept up a running campaign | | through all the years of the war, urging that Los Angeles seize every opportunity "to redeem her character" by donating to the fund. Every time he had had a chance, he had inserted an item about what other communities were doing— about individual contributions, special fund ! drives, of festive affairs, dances, banquets, and ladies' bazaars that had raised additional money for the Sanitary and Christian I Commissions. j One such affair which had caught his interest, and the con- * tinued public fancy, as well, was the case of the "Sanitary Sack of j Flour." Started out as an item of penance in an election bet, the I i sack had been carried by R. C. Gridley from Austin, Nevada, to a I | close-by village. When he had arrived at the agreed upon destination, i | Gridley, laughingly, had offered to sell the sack of flour to the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. | 188 | highest bidder, the proceeds to go to the Sanitary Fund. The crowd ! had been in a holiday mood so the bidding had been spirited and had quickly brought $ 5.000. Thus encouraged t Gridley had taken the sack I | to San Francisco for a repeat performance. Popular fancy had picked i ' the idea up, and the flour had been sold again and again— not only in ! California, but in St. Louis and in cities along the East Coast, and even in Europe. Ultimately, the "Sanitary Sack" had raised nearly 54 $40,000 in contributions to the commission. i | Other projects had been popular money raisers, though none of | them had been as spectacularly successful as Gridley's sack of flour, j San Franciscoans were always generous givers, and had had fun at the | numerous entertainments and public auctions that had attracted their money. But little Napa had done as well, comparatively, when it had garnered the sum of $2,300 at a single festival put on by the ladies of the town.^ Fourth of July celebrations had been favorable oppor tunities for fund raising, and Conway had been quick to point out how 1 the other communities had combined the two occasions. Special events ; had always been headlined— like Trinidad County's gold brick sale i that had brought $5,250,^ a one-day collecting in Placerville that | gathered $1,677.30,^ and, especially, the example of a small boy, George Lincoln Sankey, of Virginia City, Nevada Territory, who had I | CO ! given $25.00 out of his own small earnings. "Bully!" said Conway. "The work goes bravely on;" everywhere but in Los Angeles! "The people . . . don't add one cent to the contributions for the wounded 59 soldiers of the Republic." Eventually, Conway's campaign seems to have paid off. The Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 189 j first break-through in local apathy came in August, 1864, when l i Wilmington had joined together in an effort to raise money for the ; I i district school fund. As a part of the affair, Phineas Banning had i presented the school board with a richly decorated cake— mounted with a facsimile of the streamer Cricket— which had been sold for $304.00. The school fund had benefited by eighty dollars, but the greater share 60 of the proceeds had gone to the Sanitary Fund. In March of the following year, a "Soldiers' Aid Society" had been organized in Los Angeles. The opportunity had come when the Reverend J. H. Chapin, agent for the United States Sanitary Commission, had spent several days in the area. Under his direction, a call for a local organization had succeeded in setting up a unit of the commission. Not only had it been done in Los Angeles City, but similar groups had been organized in the neighboring communities of 61 Wilmington, Old San Pedro, and, even, in El Monte! Before he re turned to San Francisco, Chapin had been influential in setting up eleven different soldier aid societies in the southern part of the state. i | In Los Angeles, the commission's work had been able to gain some prominence under the direction of Henry D. Barrows, Alonzo Waite, and a Mr. Bibee, committee members appointed for that purpose. James S. Mallard had acted as president of the society, while E. S. Roberts and N. A. Potter, respectively, had been vice-president and treasurer. In recognition of his primary interest in the project, Charles R. Conway of the Los Angeles News had been unanimously chosen secretary 62 and publicity agent of the society. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 190 What had distinguished the work of this society from the earlier efforts in Los Angeles County had been the decision to draw |up lists of possible contributors, and to appoint "collectors" to go out and make personal contacts in the community. Six persons had been appointed: Mrs. Amsbury, Miss Mary E. Hoyt, Miss M. Mallard; 63 J. R. Toberman, S. E. Briggs, and G. F. Lawson. Despite the publicity that Conway's News had given the pro ject, and the efforts of the collectors, donations to the Sanitary Fund had still come in slowly. Periodic reports had appeared in the press, but, at their best, they had been only sketchy accounts of con tributions that had been received. For example, on February 28, Conway had reported that $148.50 had been forwarded "on the last steamer [to San Francisco]; $20.00 more, a portion of the residue of subscriptions 64 for January and February goes forward by steamer today." Further receipts were noted in the issue of March, but no details had been 65 given. An "unknown source" which had donated $15.75 in the same 66 month was identified as "from El Monte." In Los Angeles, saloon 67 keeper William G. Buffum once had donated a day's receipts, and, on I j election day, had kept a box for contributions which had brought in a total of $90.00.**® How much was contributed, in total, by Los Angeles residents has not yet been determined. Charles J. Stille', in his History of the Sanitary Commission, itemized some of the contributions from 69 California, but did not give any specifics for Los Angeles. The nearest to a county report that Conway had given was a summary of contributions for the two year period, September 13, 1862 to September Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 191 23, 1864. Los Angeles was credited with a total of $1,309— $1,170 in greenbacks and $139 in gold coin.^ Later, after the Los Angeles I | Soldiers' Aid Society had been established, and the collectors had done most of their work, the News had published a list of sixty-eight persons who had made contributions, but no individual amounts or total i was given.Most of those named as donors had been contacted by the I collectors, but the contributions had not been overly large. The most productive day had produced $148.00 in gifts, mostly as a result I : of the work of Miss Mary E. Hoyt, a member of the local teaching i profession.^ Though the full extent of local participation in soldier ! relief fund drives is not indicated by either Conway or Stille*, this j i fact does emerge from the evidence that is available: while California, i | as a whole, might justly "claim to have been the largest, promptest, ■ most efficient helper and nurse of . . . sick and wounded soldiers" •70 1 in the Civil War, J Los Angeles County could not share in that honor. Her contributions, despite the efforts of the Conways and the Hoyts, had been far less than the widow's mite. For all its "boasted wealth," and claimed loyalty, Los Angeles had not opened its heart, nor its purse, to ease the sufferings of the sick and dying soldiers who had been making the ultimate sacrifice on the field of battle. What is most interesting about this whole situation is that Los Angeles did not always turn a deaf ear to cries for help. It only made its own choice as to which calls it would answer. Appeals from the Unionists, except for a token response, had gone unanswered as a matter of course. So had requests from family friends— even if the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 192 request had not, In any way, been associated with the war— when the ; person asking for help had represented, In his personal attitudes, different sympathies than those entertained by the individual from whom assistance had been requested. Thus it had been for William E. j ; Boardman who had written to B. D. Wilson in February, 1863, to enlist 74 his aid in disposing of some Los Angeles real estate. Unfortunately, | Boardman, at the time, had been in Philadelphia where he and his wife ; were deep in the work of the Christian Commission. His letters to I Wilson, while telling of mutual friends, also had been full of his i own activities in soldier relief. Seemingly, Wilson had ignored j Boardman's requests; for Boardman had found it necessary to write to I Myer Newmark about his problems, and to ask him for help in getting i 75 Wilson to reply. Whether Wilson finally helped Boardman is not apparent from his correspondence, only that he had been reluctant. But he had not always ignored requests for help, nor had he been slow to reply— especially when the appeal had come from such people as Emma L. Brent (niece of J. Lancaster Brent) who wrote to him in 1864 in the interests 76 j of Southern soldiers' relief projects. Neither had his friends in chivalry been silent when the request had gone out, after the war, to help the needy in the South. Of course, much of the benevolent re sponse could be attributed to the traditional American regard for the underdog. Yet, in Los Angeles County, there had been a difference that suggested more than the usual postwar compassion for the vanquished. The amounts contributed, and the ease by which the sums were raised, was in marked contrast to the experiences of the Sanitary Commission Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 193 during the war. ^ Moreover, the broad spectrum o£ community Interest, |the appearance of names like Dr. John S. Griffin, Volney E. Howard, j 78 |Andrew J. King, and others, on the committee membership lists — j names that had never appeared in the interests of Union relief drives I — suggests a basic difference in motive and interest when the two relief programs are compared. Why Los Angeles helped the South, and relatively speaking, jhad not helped the North, is best explained in the personality of the i |county and its basic attitudes toward the war. Charles R. Conway 79 {had said that "Los Angeles is a disloyal county," and had argued it consistently as he had discussed various aspects of life on the home front. That it was disloyal in fact was finally admitted in the end— and by no less a person than Andrew J. King! Though he had written in the postwar period when he had been concerned, primarily, with Reconstruction, the overtones of what King said had related the county to wartime conditions as well. The Los Angeles News, of which 80 King was then the editor, had been challenged by the Wilmington Journal as having assumed a false front by taking over a Unionist i {paper. King, the Journal had argued, had never changed his political affiliation during the war, and, even with the South defeated and peace restored, had still represented the disloyal and treasonous i element of Los Angeles County. King had accepted the challenge and the charges, but instead of denying them, he had justified his posi tion without equivocation, saying: We have been and are yet secessionist, believing firmly in the doctrine of states rights, and that the General Government is the creature of the sovereign states, and that the powers not Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 194 delegated to it by the Constitution are reserved to the States respectively, and [that] the states must be the judges as to whether or not their rights are abridged by g^e General Govern ment as well as the means of redress . . . Consequently, King had continued, "we have opposed and re sisted" any and all policies of the government which are destructive ! of these ideals, whether they came before, during, or after the war. i ! "Call us traitors" if you will, he told the Journal. "Class us with | I I I | those who have aided with arms [efforts] to overthrow the government!" j i I i | he had fairly shouted. It made no difference to him and the rest of Los Angeles chivalry for whom he claimed to be speaking. If it had J been treason to oppose all the things that Black Republicanism had represented— whether they had been policies that had originated in the I j "secret councils of the Union Leagues or from[ the] shoulder strap ! hirelings of the Administration"— then "we thank him for the name, and here declare our intentions to remain traitors to the end of our lives; 82 God giving us strength." With such tenets as a foundation for their beliefs, was it any wonder that the local secessionists had made life on the home i front so uncomfortable for the Unionists of Los Angeles County? Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 195 NOTES 1 Max L. Heyman, Jr., Prudent Soldier, A Biography of Major ! E. R. S. Canby. 1817-1873 (Glendale. 1959), p. 175. ! 2 j A companion development, also abortive, had been the efforts of Senor Gandara, ex-Governor of Sonora, who had hoped to unite Con federate interest in the southwest with his ambitions to regain power in Sonora. Semi-Weekly Southern News, April 16, 1862, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 50, Part II, Item 286. 3 Los Angeles News, May 28, 1864. i 4 William H. Davis Collection, Huntington Library. This selection did not appear in Davis' Seventy-Five Years in California, 1967 edition. ^Stephen Bonsai, Edward Fitzgerald Beale, A Pioneer in the Path of Empire, 1822-1903 (New York, 1912), p. 258. 6 Samuel W. Backus, "Californians in the Field, Historical Sketch of the Organization and Service of the California 'Hundred' and 'Battalion'"— a paper prepared and read before the California Consnandery of the Military Order of the Loyal Legion of the United States, December 17, 1889, among Pamphlets on California, Bancroft Library. Cf. Carl R. Fish, "Conscription in the Civil War," American Historical Review, XXI (Oct., 1915), 100-103. 7 Los Angeles News, July 21, 1864. 8 I Ibid., August 25, 1864. i 9 ! Ibid., August 20, 1864. In 1862, only 163 Union recruits for the California Volunteers had been raised in Los Angeles. Aurora Hunt, "California Volunteers on Border Patrol, Texas and Mexico, 1862-1866." Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly. XXX (Dec., 1948), 266-267. Hereafter cited as Hunt, "California Volun teers." 10 Los Angeles News, August 20, 1864. 11 Ibid., August 30, 1864. 12 Ibid., August 11, 1864. 13 Ibid., March 25, 1864. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 196 14 Ibid., February 10, 1864. See Pitt, Decline of the Calif ornios . pp. 230-233, for a further evaluation. Los Angeles News, March 23, 1863. Cf. Robert R. Miller, "Californians Against the Emperor," California Historical Society Quarterly. XXXVII (June, 1961), 123-136, and Abraham P. Nasatir, "The French Attitude in California During the Civil War Decade," same Quarterly. XLII (March, 1964), 19-36. 16 Los Angeles News, March 4, 1864. 17 Ibid., January 13, June 7, 1864. 18 Hunt, "California Volunteers," p. 266. 19 Los Angeles Star, June 1, 1861. 20 Semi-Weekly Southern News, May 29, 1861. 21 Banning s appointment proved to be more perfunctory than real. He saw no active military service; seldom mustered his troops, i Krythe, Banning, p. 119. 22 Los Angeles Star, June 1, 1861. 23 Ibid., July 6, 1861. 24 Krythe, Banning, pp. 106-107 25 Los Angeles News, June 25, 1864. Conway's explanation is given in retrospect as he anticipated no celebration in 1864. 26 Ibid., June 25, 1864. Added explanation of Banning's attitu de may lie in the ambiguous nature of his business-political relation ships in the county. See Chapter 8, post, relative to the election of 1865. 27 Krythe, Banning, p. 98. 28 Undated item[ May, 18637] from Griffin to Wilson, Wilson Papers. Also, see Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California- p. 333, and Boyle Workman, City That Grew (Los Angeles. 1935), p. 57. Here after cited as Workman, City That Grew. 29 E. Coffee to [Margaret S.] Wilson, Oakland, Calif., March 3, 1865, Wilson Papers. 30 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 32. 31 Benjamin F. Gilbert, "Confederate Activity and Propaganda In California" (Unpublished M.A. Thesis, Department of History, Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 197 University of California, Berkeley, 1940), p. 15. 32 Alta California, July 12, 1863. "Viejo's" letter was dated j June 8, 1863, but is an apparent typographical error. * 33 Los Angeles News, July 14, 1864. 34 Ibid., July 9, 1864. Another flag incident had occurred at El Monte in 1861 when a Bear Flag had been raised by local enthusiasts for the South. Murray Morrison had tried to excuse it as an innocent affair at the time, but he had stretched his explanation beyond credibility. San Francisco Herald, June 3, 1861. 35 Los Angeles News. July 14, 1864. I 36 | Ibid., July 9, 14, 1864. ! 37 | Krythe, Banning, pp. 131-132. | J g Los Angeles News, July 2, 1864. 39 Ibid., March 2, 1864. Conway's description suggested a "slide show** of picture panels. 40 Ibid., March 4, 1864. ^"Viejo" [J. J. Warner ] to Alta California. July 12, 1863. Letter is dated June 8, 1863, but is an obvious typographical error. 42 H. D. Barrows, "Los Angeles Postmasters— (1850 to 1890)," in Annual Publications of the Historical Society of Southern Cali fornia and Pioneer Register, V (1900), 49-55, reported the attack on Still but had attributed it to "a secessionist gambler." Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 333, recounted the affair with little variation from Warner1s version. 43 The last number appeared October 1, 1864. J. M. Guinn, j "La Estrella, The Pioneer Newspaper of Los Angeles," Annual Pub- ; lication of the Historical Society of Southern California. V (1900), 70-77. Cf. Rice, Los Angeles Star, pp. 253-254. 44 Hamilton entered Arizona politics briefly, but returned in February, 1867, to publish the San Bernardino Guardian for a brief time before coming again to a revived Los Angeles Star. Los Angeles News, August 19, 1865; February 22, 1867. Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, 413-414. 45 Los Angeles News, May 10, 1864; Workman, City That Grew, p. 193; Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 337. 46 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 321. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 198 47 Los Angeles News, July 22, 1863, quoted in Mamie Krythe, I "First Hotel of Old Los Angeles— Bella Union," Historical Society of j Southern California Quarterly, XXXII (June, 1951), 169. I 43 j Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, pp. 325-326. I 49 | Bancroft, History of California, VII, 295n. | 5^Los Angeles News, September 10, 1864. ! 51 Bancroft, History of California, VII, 295n. Cf. Charles J. Stille', History of the United States Sanitary Commission (Philadelphia, 1866), pp. 197-243, and Appendix No. 5. Hereafter cited as Stille', History of the Sanitary Commission. 52 Marysville Appeal and Sacramento Star as quoted in the Los Angeles News, June 18, 1864. I 53 Los Angeles News, June 18, 1864. (See Chapter 7, post, for a discussion of economic troubles during the drought and famine.) 54Ibid., March 18, 26; June 2, 11, 1864. Cf. Stille', History of the Sanitary Commission, pp. 236ff. ^\os Angeles News, July 21, 1864. 56Ibid., June 30, 1864. 57Ibid., July 21, 1864. 58Ibid., June 28, 1865. 59Ibid., May 28, 1864. 88Ibid., August 16, 1864. 61 Ibid., February 28, 1865. j j Ibid., January 7, 1865. 88Ibid., January 3, 7; February 4; April 1, 1865. 84Ibid., February 28, 1865. 65Ibid., March 18, 1865. 66Ibld. , March 4, 1865. 87Ibid., November 15, 1864. 68 Ibid., November 19, 1864. On the same day, San Francisco Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 199 had reported $5,461.25 collected at polling places. ^Stille7, History of the Sanitary Commission, pp. 539-541. 7^Los Angeles News, January 3, 1865. 7^Ibid., February 18, 1865. ?2Ibid., April 22, 1865. *7 *3 Stille7, History of the Sanitary Commission, pp. 243-244. | 7 V E. Boardman to B. D. Wilson, February 4; May 7; August 6; June 7, 1863, Wilson Papers. 75 W. E. Boardman to Myer Newmark, August 6, 1863. Ibid. 7^Emma F. Brent to B. D. Wilson, Baltimore, Md., Nov. 7, 1864. Ibid. 77For example, one "fair" raised $1,509.05; other events were equally successful. Los Angeles News, April 9, 19, 23; May 3, 10, 28; July 16, 1867; Wilmington Journal, April 20; June 1, 1867. 78 Los Angeles News, April 9. 1867. 79Ibid., May 28, 1864. 80 King had purchased Conway's interest in the News in November, 1865. Wilmington Journal, November 18, 25, 1865, 81 Los Angeles News, November 24, 1865. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER VII BUSINESS AS USUAL In July, 1863, when the war news had been so exciting to the Union men of Los Angeles, Charles Conway had reported the events in 1 the East with considerable satisfaction and joy. He had had good reasons to do so, for much had been happening that had been encourag ing to the Federal cause. Not only had Meade stopped the Confederates at Gettysburg, but, on the same day (July 4th) that Lee had begun his retreat to Virginia, General Pemberton had surrendered his entire force of 30,000 to Grant at Vicksburg. Though Meade had dallied after Gettysburg and had lost an opportunity when Lee had been held up by the flooding Potomac River, the combination of Vicksburg and Gettysburg had put an entirely different face on the war. Up to then, it had seemed almost a Con federate victory, but no longer. The Federal Army was not only in i i | control of the Mississippi and its vital tributaries, but was also in a position to seize control of strategic Tennessee. More importantly, new leaders had taken control of the Union Army. Out of the West had come "Unconditional Surrender" Grant to replace Meade whose hesita tion had let Lee escape. With Grant had come new attitudes and ideas, personified in men, like William Tecumseh Sherman and "Rock of Chicamauga" Thomas, who had been willing to cut free from out-moded theories and think on a grand scale. They were aggressive and capable 200 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 201 men, and had breathed new confidence Into Federal strategy. Flush from victory In the West, they had been determined to achieve it in i the East— even if it took all summer. Thus, there had been exciting events to report during the next two years, and any editor could have used his pen freely. Yet, I ! it is surprising how much space Conway had used up, especially on the front page, telling nonsensical stories, human interest tales, and jokes about ordinary, every day life. News of the war, if any, was not head-lined in the fashion of a later generation, but had been relegated to the middle pages, along with editorials on county and i | California affairs. Only in mid-1864, when the campaigns on the j Potomac and in Georgia had picked up momentum, had Conway "front- | paged" the eastern war news. Even then, over half of the page had ! been given over to merchant advertisements, legal notices, and pro- i fessional announcements like John Souncillan's notice of his new 2 j dental offices on Main Street. I This was a different emphasis than one might have expected I i from a propagandist like Conway. It could lead an analyst to suggest that Los Angeles really had not been affected by the war— that its i 1 residents had been more interested in the business possibilities of | a new wagon train over the Tehachapi's than what had been happening ! 3 : on the Wilderness Road. Such a judgment might be possible from a cursory look at Los Angeles, particularly if one should rest his ; opinion only on the evidence of what he read in Conway's stories of | the days' happenings. However, his way of making up a page of news I j had not been peculiar to him, for his paper had been no different in Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. style than the big city dallies. Front page advertising was prime space, and all editors could appreciate Its significance in the cash i box. But pecuniary interest had not been the only factor. Part of i | the explanation must include the paucity of news which was available for Conway to print. Frequently he had editorialized about his : difficulties. At times, the telegraph had been down, but, more often, other forces had been at work. San Francisco papers, and the mono- [ polist wire services, had kept his news sources dried up, forcing i Conway to copy from other publications, or be content with the ' 4 j driblets that he could glean from other informants. i I ; Nevertheless, in all that he had printed, and, especially, in I | all that he had not printed, there emerged a pattern that is both I ! normal and human. After all, Los Angeles was on the Pacific Coast, a long way from the scenes of actual conflict. Distance has always been a factor in man's reaction to danger, and he is naturally more ! concerned when events touch closer to home. Even momentous disasters, j | like the terrible blood lettings of Antietam and Gettysburg lost ' something of their horror because of time and distance. Conway's readers might go over the accounts of the battles and be fired in their imaginations about the land, positions, and fortifications | lost and gained. Yet, in the reading, even while being amazed by the grim totals of the wounded and the dead, they could have diffi- j culty relating it all to themselves. It had all been too impersonal, j too distant in its effect, and cold statistics could do little to i increase empathy for what really had happened. ! These were factors that, undoubtedly, had had significant Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 203 influence on Conway. However, to say that he, and the residents of Los Angeles as a whole, had not been concerned about the war in the East is too harsh a judgment. Rather, it seems that they were but human beings caught up in the normal way of life. They were aware of calamities, and could appreciate their significance. But, just because they had seemed more excited about local tragedies--like the explosion of the Ada Hancock in San Pedro Harbor^— is no indication that they had been insensitive to the larger tragedy that was being played out on the battle fields in the East. I At the same time, their concern for new business opportunities in the mining camps of Kern County is no sign that they were any different from their fellow merchants on the eastern seaboard. The war was a national calamity, and the terrible cost in human suffering was being written in the testimony of death and desolation. But, the living had to go on, for neither life— nor the war— had been over yet for them. Part of life, and the war, was business, and business was a means of continuing both. How much Northern industry had meant to the war, and, conversely, how much the war had meant to industry i in the North, had been told and retold in the continuing postmortems j of that conflict. Thus, questions may logically arise whether Northern experiences during the war were also reflected in the West. How much had business, particularly in Los Angeles County, been affected by the Civil War? Did local merchants prosper only through the government contracts for forage and food, or did the emergency inspire new industries to meet war-time demands? On the whole, how had it been for the business community in Los Angeles? Was it a Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. ------------------------------------------------------------------2U5 prosperous time, or did it suffer from the exigencies of shortages, high taxes, and an inflated economy. Final answers to these questions I may not be determined, but an exploration of their frame of reference can be helpful. A natural beginning may be a review of the county's economic development. Then, one should look at the peculiar conditions I |under which war-time business had operated. 1 I In the early days of the county's history, when filibustering Yankees had begun flooding into the land cf the Dons, newcomer busi- ! nessmen had found an economy almost as old as time itself. Slow i moving almost to a fault, it was a pastoral community devoted almost entirely to the raising of horses, cattle, and sheep. It had been, for all practical purposes, a self-contained economy, with little contact with the outside world. What trade had been carried on with j other communities had been restricted to an occasional cattle or i sheep drive over the Tehachapi's or to calls by the infrequent sailing vessels off the Palisades at Santa Monica and at the crude landing in San Pedro. Steamship service had been unknown until the coming of the Americans. The first to call at San Pedro was the Goldhunter, aptly ' 6 | named, for the year had been 1848. i Such "sleepy hollow" habits had continued for awhile after the Americans had come, for many of them had slipped into the easy ways of manana land, and had been content to leave things as they were. They had made money. Increased demands from northern mining counties for Los Angeles beef and mutton had made the community prosperous.^ Why change things, they had reasoned. After all, if customers could afford to pay John Goller $16.00 for shoeing horses, or could indulge Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 205 8 In the extravagance of a five hundred dollar awning, there could not be much wrong with the economy. But others had not been satisfied, j and had been busy in a variety of ways t-c change and reshape the mode j jof trade and commerce in Los Angeles City and County. Of all those i I 'who had been busy— the Downeys the Kremers, and the Newmark8, and j |others--none had been more innovative, nor more forceful, than Phineas I Banning of Wilmington. A native of Wilmington, Delaware, but recently from Philadelphia, |Phineas Banning had come to Los Angeles late in 1851. A robust, | energetic youth of twenty, he had been employed by a Mr. East, a merchant engaged in shipping goods to the Los Angeles market. | When he had arrived at San Pedro, young Banning was charged with the responsibility of unloading the cargo. At the time, there had jbeen no wharf at the landing, so small boats had to be employed to bring the boxes of goods from the ship lying outside the sand bars. Such ineptitude had appalled Banning, especially when dilatory atti tudes had only laughed at mishaps with the boats that had spilled the cargo into the surf. What San Pedro needed was a wharf, Banning had » 'said at the time, and, if he could have anything to do with it, a 9 wharf it would have. When he and Mr. East sought transportation to Los Angeles, for themselves and their cargo, Banning's roving eye and quick mind had been alert to see how things were done; how they could be improved. The stage was crude. The driver did not know his business. Banning had been sure that he could do better! The traditional carreta, the only mode of transporting goods, was not only a laugh, but was an Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. anachronism in the age of the Conestoga wagon. Besides that, it was a waste of money to transport goods from San Pedro to the Los Angeles market when much of it could have been disposed of right at San Pedro. Iseeing that, he had been quick to voice his opinion, and, when he got ithe chance, had told Abel Stearns that he thought so! "Why don't you ! open a store at your hide house in San Pedro, capture the sea going i trade as ships stop at the landing, and thus save the freight to and from Los Angeles. I Thus it had been with Banning. Restless with unbounded energy, ! full of innovative ideas, he had been eager for the responsibility that i I would get things done. Consequently, after he had his feet on the ground, he had moved quickly from the employee class to management. I I Leaving Mr. East, he accepted a job with Douglass and Sanford, commis sion agents in San Pedro where he applied himself zealously to learning the business. When off work, he had not wasted his time in idle, riotous living. At his own expense he had purchased timbers and had constructed a small scow. Taking it to the slough, he had polled his way around the sand bars and had traced out the channel that would eventually open the "Port of Los Angeles." | Such enthusiasm for spying out new ways of doing things had not gone unnoticed by his employers. Others, too, had been watching him. David Alexander was one who had had his eye on young Banning, and had jbeen duly impressed with his savoir faire in business. So, when John I [Temple had decided to sever his connections with the forwarding busi ness in San Pedro, Alexander had offered a partnership to Banning.^ j The firm of Alexander and Banning had been an immediate success, Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 207 not only for them personally, but for the benefits it had brought to i Los Angeles County as veil. Starting with the first regular stage coach line from San Pedro to the city, they had begun a program of I | expansion that, eventually, had made Los Angeles the trade center of ' the whole southwest. Freight and mail service was soon established | with the outlying ranches and San Bernardino, and the route was planned ' I that had taken their wagons into Yuma and the mining camps of the Arizona Territory. The Salt Lake trade, and the Mormon settlements ! along the way, had also been eyed. Starting in May, 1855, with : fifteen ten-mule teams, wagons from Los Angeles had freighted goods along the old Mormon Trail through the Cajon Pass, across the desert to Rio Virgin, up that river and over the divide into the Salt Lake i Valley.^ i Banning had experienced some difficulty overcoming Brigham 13 Young's reluctance to trade with Gentiles, but, after reassurances I had opened the way, the trade had developed with profit to all parties concerned. At its zenith, before the railroad had brought an end to 14 the wagon team business, and Los Angeles' primacy in it, Southern California's freighters had carried goods not only to Salt Lake, but north into the mining towns of Idaho and Southern Montana, as far as Helena.^ What this new market had meant to Banning's Wilmington (ne New San Pedro), and to Los Angeles merchants at large, can be read in the newspaper accounts of the period. Typically, both in the Star and the News, editorial comment had cited the expanding trade, with its increased tonnage, and had commented on its significant worth to the local economy. For example, the Los Angeles Star, on February Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 208 11, 1859, had reported that sixty wagons, with $60,000 to $70,000 j worth of goods, had made the journey Into Utah since the first of the j | year. At the same time, one hundred more wagons were then in the | city loading, or were out on the trail with another $180,000 in merchandise which was destined for the inter-mountain markets. i | Profitable trade by this route had continued on into the Sixties-- I augmented somewhat by Civil War conditions— but encouraged, more especially, by the trade patterns that were centering more and more j in Los Angeles County. Said the Los Angeles News on February 7, 1865: | A long train of wagons from Mormondom arrived in this city ; and proceeded immediately to San Pedro where they will load goods shipped by their merchants and again proceed homewards. The trader goes through by overland stage from Salt Lake to San ! Francisco, buys his goods and ships them to San Pedro. Trains come by this route and load the goods for the Salt Lake market. Alexander and Banning had not been the only forwarding company operating out of Los Angeles.^ Neither had Salt Lake and the upper mountain lands been the only market area served by Southern Cali fornia merchants. Trade with Arizona mining camps had become increas ingly important, especially after conditions had quieted down on the I southwestern frontier. Just as the Utah trade had invited competi- ; tion, so the Arizona market had attracted rival merchants and car riers. Goller and Tomlinson had offered strong competition, to Banning, and so had Bachman and Company. However, with the advent of small steamers on the Colorado River, a new challenge had appeared. Steamships and schooners out of San Francisco had been able to by- pass San Pedro and sail up the Gulf of Lower California to discharge cargoes more quickly, and more cheaply, for the mining camps in Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 209 18 Arizona. These competitors had challenged any monopoly that Banning i might have liked to have established, but they had been unable to deny ! i | his primacy, and leadership, in the business of freight and supply. i i It was he who had planned boldly, who had worked almost without rest, and who had succeeded first where others had not dared to try. j Thus it was not surprising that Banning had been able to obtain the major contracts with Carleton, and become the supply agent for the United States Army. His rapport with the local merchants, s j whether they had been Conway-styled Confederates or men of unques- | tioned loyalty, had been such that Banning had experienced little difficulty in collecting the needed goods. Moreover, his know-how in freighting, his ability to get the goods to their destinations, and, above all, his sociable ways with the military, were qualities that had had real appeal when contracts had been awarded by the agents of the government in Southern California. Banning is reputed to have made at least a million dollars 19 out of his contracts with the government before the war was over. It may not have been that profitable, but that he had made tremendous i I | profits had been generally accepted in the community. But, he had not been the only Los Angeles merchant to have made money out of the war-time conditions. Wagons had been needed, and John Goller had 20 profited from orders to construct them. So had Henry Hewmark made money. He once had sold over seventy tons of groceries and provisions to the army— a load that had required twenty-seven of Banning's 21 wagons to carry it to Carleton in Arizona. Despite the largesse that Carleton and other army purchasers Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 210 had thrown to Los Angeles merchants, the Civil War had been no real | bonanza to the county. In actual fact, the war years had been the j leanest that local residents had ever seen. Part of the cause had been the usual exigencies of war, seen in the shortages of consumer goods and rising prices that had reflected the inflationary tendencies that greenback currency had encouraged. But the real culprit had been the weather. First there had been too much rain, two years of flood ing downpour that had left destruction in its wake. Then had come | the drought— a bone dry, debilitating drought--that had sapped the I very life blood out of the economy. j | For three years, beginning in 1862, very little rain had fall en in the county, and the parched earth had given mute testimony of the terrible effects that the continued drought had caused. Plains and foothills, which had been such verdant pastures in the past, were returned to virtual deserts under the combined onslaught of sun and wind. With the grass gone, cattle had died by the thousands, | and the ranchers had been unable to do anything but stand helplessly by as the heavens had remained closed to their appeals for rain. A i | brief respite had come in November, 1863, and a generous rain had I fallen in the spring of 1864, leading many to hope, "that God had 22 not forgotten us in our needs." But, in each case, it had been only a mirage on the continuing desert, and the new grasses, started with the scanty rainfall, had soon withered away from lack of moisture.^ With the continued drought, the situation for Southern California ranchers had become desperate. Some of them had been Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 211 successful in finding grass in closeby mountain pastures, and others, like the Wolkskills and the Yorbas, had driven portions of their I herds to out-of-county meadows along the Mojave River and in Lower i ! California. Abel Stearns found a small pasture with a Temecula ! Indian tribe, but it had been able to accommodate only a few ! 24 j thousand head. However, most of the county's ranchers had not ! been even this fortunate. The mountains were so rugged, even with the passes at Cajon and Tehachapi, and the grass along the way had ; been so sparse, that the bulk of Los Angeles cattlemen had found no | such refuge. The only hope, it had seemed to the ranchers, had been I | to sell their stock for what it would bring. This, of course, had I only aggravated their difficulties. Prices which had already been driven down by an over supplied market, were depressed even further I ; as beeves were slaughtered wholesale in an attempt to salvage some- I ! thing of their worth before the cattle had died. Abel Stearns had i been reluctant in January, 1863, when he had sold a thousand prime 25 cows to Miller and Lux of San Francisco for $8.00 a head. However, a few months later, he would have been glad to get anywhere near that price. Prices had dropped steadily through the year, and on into 1864, the worst year of the drought. First it was $4.00, then $2.00, then a dollar and a half had been the asking price. Even 26 then, there had been few takers. The worst of all had been the plight of a Santa Barbara rancher who had been forced to sell his herd of 5,000 cattle at the unheard of price of thirty-seven cents a head!^ With the price of beef at such a low ebb, it had hardly been Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 212 worth the expense of butchering, especially when the price of hides was so much better. Normally, prime hides had been bringing $2.50, I | less twenty-five cents for "hiding." This was not much of a price, i but, with beef selling at two cents a pound in the Sacramento market, and the "knockdown" prices that the auctioneers had been getting, j j hides and tallow had offered a more sure thing than cattle on the 28 hoof. Consequently, there had been a rush to slaughter and skin { the cattle in order to market the more precious hides. But famine I i had taken its toll too quickly, and the vanqueros had been able to i 29 1 skin the cattle only about half as fast as it had died. j | With the county's major industry in such a condition, it was | no wonder, said Charles Conway "^thatj there is want in the South, j with the dread of famine and starvation [facing the community!] before i 30 ; the spring months." I Everyone had been hit by the disaster, small as well as large ! land owners; laborers as well as businessmen. Unemployment was rife, and the whole economy had suffered as a general depression had settled throughout the southern counties. Money had been almost unobtainable, either from private or public sources. Notes given by Francis Temple had been peddled around the town at fifty cents on the dollar, but 31 had found few takers. Abel Stearns, perhaps worse off than other ranchers (but only because of the size of his holdings), had tried to salvage something out of his losses by mortgaging Los Alamltos rancho (26,000 acres) for $20,000; but it had not helped him enough. Like his compadre. Pico, he was hounded by his creditors and had been forced to sell considerable of his holdings at sheriff's Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 213 sales.32 I ■ As a natural consequence of the depressed business conditions, : the County of Los Angeles, Itself, had become virtually bankrupt. Delinquent taxpayers had always been a problem, as seen by a typical 33 | two-column listing of outstanding accounts in December, 1859. But, I | in 1864, nearly every one in the county had been delinquent. Out j of nearly two million dollars in assessed valuation on the tax rolls, 34 only one-sixth of it had produced any income to the county. To | pay the salaries of county employees, the board of supervisors had I resorted to "script,! ! a peculiar form of local currency which had i been an addition to the usual county warrants. It had been a poor device, however, and had been recognized as a form of forced borrow ing by an agency that was poorly equipped to honor its obligations. Consequently, like its companion issue, the federal Greenback, it had I been discounted in the market place, but at a more drastic rate 35 (4 to 1) than the national currency had ever suffered. ! Thus, like the many private creditors who had gone into court to try to collect past due accounts, the county had filed suits for delinquent taxes, and forced sales had been conducted by the. sher- 36 ! iff. But this had been no real help to the county, nor had it been | a permanent solution to the depressed conditions under which business ; had been laboring. Instead, the situation had only been aggravated as prices, and property values, had been driven down even further than conditions might have warranted. What was needed, some Angelenos had begun to argue, was not the auctioneer's hammer, but new approach es, and new measures, to deal with the basic problems in the county's Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. I 214 | economy. Moreover, in times like these, the government should have ; been an asset, not a burden. It should not have added to the peoples' | difficulties, nor should it have insisted upon its pound of flesh. | Rather, it should have looked to itself for remedies that would cure | the ills from which the community had been suffering. | An approach in this direction had been made back in 1860 when I local stockmen had demanded tax relief in the face of rapidly de clining prices for beef. Pressure had been put on the board of supervisors to reappraise the assessor's work in the light of changed | business conditions. This had been done, and reduced assessments had brought some relief. Unfortunately, as a grand jury study had re- ! ported, the board of supervisors had reduced assessments to themselv- j es, and to other wealthy men in the community, but had not applied I I the new rates equally throughout the county. Consequently, pro tests were immediately raised, and the board's action had been criticized for its obvious conflict of interest. Vox Populi had risen to their defense, and had pointed out that the supervisors had acted in good faith, and for the best good of the general i j community. Though the "wealthy men" had enjoyed reduced assess ments, they still had paid nearly half of the total taxes, ($22,104.75 out of $42,469.67), a point which he verified by publishing a list of 37 thirty-eight taxpayers, and the amounts that they had paid. Then, in a statement that pre-echoed "What's good for General Motors is good for the country," Vox Populi had reminded his readers that they ought to appreciate the significance of these men, and their enter prises, to the county. Their health, and their wealth, was not Just Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. a personal matter, but it should be the concern of one and all in the community. | Despite their appeal to business logic and community spirit, I j these arguments had not satisfied many in Los Angeles. Business was I 1 still stagnant, as Henry Hamilton had repeatedly emphasized, even with J i the help that the supervisors had given. Something more needed to be done, especially if any benefits were to be enjoyed by more than a favored few. What was really needed was a reduction in the cost of I | government--in fact, a reduction of government itself. To maintain ! a double set of offices and officers was false "dignity" in Hamilton's i opinion, especially "when we have neither capital nor population sufficient for such an expensive bauble." All that Los Angeles needed, he had contended, was a "simple town organization" which would vest the powers of government in a board of trustees whose 39 responsibilities and authority should be kept to a bare minimum. Proponents of consolidation of city and county governments had begun to circulate petitions in 1860. Though opinion had been almost equally divided between those in favor and those who had i j opposed the proposal, J. J. Warner had submitted a bill to the ( legislature asking that the Los Angeles City Charter be repealed. His bill was no haphazard affair, but had Included over thirty pages 40 i in manuscript arguments favoring the proposal. Warner's bill had died in committee, but the measure was revived in 1861 by Andres 41 42 Pico and, again, in 1864, by Ignacio Sepulveda. Each time, it had failed to pass but Los Angeles had continued to agitate consol idation of the city and county governments. The culminating effort, with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 216 in the middle Sixties, was a petition to the legislature, signed by 43 one hundred and five residents from the county. By that time, I however, the focus of attention had moved from city-county government i j per se to a conflict of interest between the "Banningtownites" and | the City of Los Angeles. Phineas Banning had been caught up by his i | dream to construct the Los Angeles-Wilmington Railroad, and had seen I I { consolidation as a vehicle to speed the accomplishment of his pro- | ject. As subsequent discussion will show, many in Los Angeles were | not enthused with Phineas Banning, nor had they seen his Charter Bill 44 (1866) as anything but a blind "to move Los Angeles to Wilmington." ; For this, and similar reasons, whenever any charter revision pro posals had gone to the legislature, and had been referred to the Los Angeles delegation at Sacramento, the measures had always died in committee.^ Misgovernment in local affairs, and the tax problems that had i originated with the city and county officers, had not been the only problems that had given Los Angeles difficulties in the Sixties. The federal government, too, had initiated fiscal policies that had created new problems for the business community. In the past, about the only contact that the average citizen had had with the national government's tax program had been when importing goods from foreign parts. The excise tax had been a con tinuing feature of the revenue program open to the federal officers, but, through the years, had become less significant, or, at least, less Irksome to the average taxpayer. During the Civil War, however, national expenditures had risen to such astronomical heights that Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 217 the government had been hard pressed to raise sufficient revenue. ! Traditional methods of borrowing from the banks and individuals had I i ! not brought in enough money; neither had the usual war-time tax levies balanced the excessively high costs of fighting the war. Consequently, new sources of revenue had to be explored— new ways j j of selling bonds, new forms of taxing the public had to be developed. Jay Cooke and his bond salesmen had provided a first innova tion. Mot only had the public been propagandized through the daily I | press and at patriotic rallies, but, with their door-to-door contact I with John Q. Citizen, Cooke and Company had brought the war closer ! to the people--and the peoples' purse to the government-than other | fiscal program had done. Even with this success, and the tremendous ! sums that had been brought into the treasury, the income had not been | enough to balance the excessively high costs of the war. So, new forms of taxation had been tried, and, with more import to the | government, new ways of insuring collection had been applied. Every one in the community had felt the new tax bite. Not only had excise rates been raised to unheard of levels, but the list of taxable items had been expanded time and again. Businesses were i licensed, production at the mines had carried ad valorem levies, and the new tax on personal income had been introduced to bring additional money into the treasury. Added to all of these burdens was the increased interference in private affairs that internal revenue agents had encouraged by their constant efforts to spy out 46 hidden sources of revenue. All such measures had brought increased money to the govern- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 218 ment, and had had a salutary effect on those who had felt that the \ new tax program was a justifiable demand upon all who had been | claiming support of the federal cause. At the same time, the busi- j ness community had been exasperated beyond measure. Perhaps tdiat many of them felt, Henry Dalton had put into words. An expatriate Englishman, doing business in Los Angeles and in Mexico, he had experienced so many difficulties because of the war that he was almost at a loss to know how he could carry on. His nativity and natural antipathy toward Yankees (he had never taken out American citizenship, and had had no love for his adopted country) may have clouded his | reasoning, but, when he complained to Ramon Olarte, a business I associate of "Exa, Mexico," what he had written was an Illuminating ! view of Los Angeles' opinion. He are not taxed in a more extensive manner than the far famed English taxation; the Yankees are resolved to have everything^ greater than others even to their follies and their taxation. To his protest against high taxes, Dalton might well have added one more objection— a complaint against the inflationary effect of the government's monetary policies. Difficulty enough had already 1 j been experienced with county scrip, but these problems had only been i compounded by the equally insecured federal Greenbacks. Then, as if this had not created enough of a problem, Sacramento had gotten into the act with its Specific Contract Law. As a result, prices, which had already felt the inflationary push that war-time shortages and famine had encouraged, were forced even higher by the law which had demanded only gold as legal tender in California. All in the com munity had suffered, both those buying from Los Angeles merchants, Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 2191 j and the merchants, themselves, when they had gone as customers to the i ! i San Francisco market to replenish their stock. I All things considered, however, those difficulties which the war had created, even the shortage of civilian goods because shipping space had been denied in favor of more lucrative army business, had 48 not seriously affected business in Los Angeles. As Charles Conway had reminded his readers, "It will soon be over and no one will feel 49 the loss oftthe goods] they do not have." Conditions in Los Angeles County did improve, and many of the local businessmen had been able to recover some of their lost posi tion. Henry Dalton, for one, had been able to pay his back taxes for the years of 1864 and 1865. Later, as conditions had improved fur ther, he had been sufficiently affluent to pick up several pieces of property of "unknown persons" who had lost them to the county for non payment of taxes.^ At the same time, the county, itself, had be come more solvent. In January, 1865, Mathew Kramer, the county treasurer, had been able to publish a notice advising all holders of 51 county warrants that such would be paid in full upon presentation. | | Subsequently, the interest on the county bonds of 1861 and 1864 was also paid, a debt that had amounted to $10,000. In addition, the treasurer had redeemed $8,000 worth of outstanding warrants held by the merchants of Los Angeles. Later, as a further Indication of the reversed conditions of the county's financial condition, the following report had appeared in the Los Angeles News of January 8, 1867: Joseph Huber, Jr., County Treasurer, sailed for San Francisco on the steamer Orizaba, on the 5th instant taking with him $21,389.38 in State taxes being the amount due the State upon Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 220 the half-yearly settlement, ending January 1st, 1867; being the largest sum ever paid in to the State Treasury at one time from this county. ! Such prosperity in the county was a reflection of conditions j that had operated in 1865 and 1866 when business had begun to re cover. Trade with the inter-mountain markets had increased, and new profits had been realized from opportunities along Clear Creek in Kern County, and in the mining camps adjacent to the city. Wagon makers in Los Angeles had sent 600 vehicles down the roads, most all of them laden with freight which local merchants had handled. Even | the stockmen had seen some revival of their former prosperity. Sheep, i especially, were in abundance, but cattle and horses, too, had begun to move into the markets. In fact, said a visitor from San Francisco, "the number of mules and horses sold here for Montana and Idaho, during the last six months almost exceeds belief." San Francisco, also, had been a ready market. Over 20,000 head of cattle and horses had gone through the Bay area brokers to customers in the northern ! counties."*^ This was a different picture for the businessmen of Los I ; J Angeles County, a better view than that which they had seen during the "Great Drought" of just a few years before. Evidence of the new prosperity had begun to appear along Main and Commercial Streets as new brick stores had replaced the adobe and wooden structures that had been commonly used. It was a new age, "The Genesis of a New 53 Order," as Robert Glass Cleland has called it, made possible by the vision, and hard work, of such men as Phineas Banning, Henry 54 Newmark, John G. Downey, I. W. Heilman, and, even, Prudence Beaudry. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. | But, at the same time, the new era had spelled the end of an old way | ' of life— the passing of pastoral California and the romance that the ! old rancheros had represented. Agriculture in the old pattern had i never returned to Southern California after the terrible years of the drouth, despite its healthy upsurge in the immediate postwar years. i ; Revive permanently it never would— neither would the economy, itself, j ! ) improve— Charles Conway had warned his readers in January, 1864, I unless it diversified. We believe [that] the stock interests of this county, as well as the adjoining counties, 'to be played out' entirely. Other sources of revenue and profit must take the place of those for- | merly relied on . . . ^ i i First among the fruitful sources that had been available to ! Los Angeles investors, Conway had said, was the potentially rich i opportunity in mining. Not the far-flung dreams that had sent miners | scurrying off to distant Colorado and Arizona, or even to neighboring j Kern County. Significant strikes had been made in such places, but j i Los Angeles had been neglecting better opportunities closer to home. I "For three years," Conway maintained, It has been well known that rich mines existed in the immediate vicinity and no measures have been adopted for [their] development i while thousands and thousands of dollars have been squandered in the location of wild and isolated 'feet'— located broad-cast, | lying at a great distance, and in almost unapproachable locations, j The sums which have been spent . . . if they had begg applied | properly— would have given us one good paying mine. Such a "good paying mine" was the Moronga Mine, which was located "within a distance of 100 miles of this city." Its yield had proven equal to the "best galena" (active lead sulfide) produced any where else; three samples at the mill had Indicated that the ore Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. would bring $217.50 to a ton of ore. "This mine can be made to pay speedily," argued Conway, "and every share should be taken at once by | our citizens . . . it will do more to revive and preserve the trade of Los Angeles than a thousand lodes of ordinary character" that 57 might be located elsewhere. In addition to the Moronga Mine, other strikes had been lo cated, many of them closer than a hundred miles from the city. San ! Gabriel Valley, in the region between the Arroyo Seco and the Canon, 58 was the scene of considerable excitement. Santa Catalina Island, j the canons at Santa Anita and Tehunja, also, were prospected with | considerable profit. Especially fruitful had been neighboring Bear and Holcombe valleys where extensive mines had been opened up. All | of this activity was reported avidly by Conway and his columns had i begun to rival San Francisco papers in their coverage of mining news. ! Despite Conway's enthusiasm for mining as a new industry for I a revitalized economy, Los Angeles investors had been slow to re- | spond. Constantly, Conway had chided them for their reluctance to break away from old connections with cattle and sheep, and had warned them that it would be necessary to embark upon new enterprises if 59 the county was to develop its real potential for growth. But I money had not been as readily available as it had been before, and the traditional conservatism of a farming economy had been difficult to change. Even so, changes had been made, though mining had not re placed cattle as the main industry in the county. Sheep raising, particularly for its wool made more precious by Civil War interference Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 223 with cotton, had steadily increased its importance.^ But other agricultural pursuits had been developing an equal importance; es- i I pecially the grape and wine industry. i Mathew Keller, since the early Fifties, had been advocating the value of vineyards, particularly when cultivated, and irrigated, 61 with constant care. Benito Wilson, Louis Sansevaine, and other county farmers, had followed Keller's lead in developing the wine 62 S industry as one of the major sources of new income. However, as I i Conway had constantly urged his readers, there were many other crops i that could prove a boon to the economy. Cotton, tobacco, coffee, tea, hops, flax—.all of these could, with profit, be grown in Los Angeles 63 County. "Let experiments be made," had been Conway's constant appeal. Experiments had been made, even with some crops that Conway i had not mentioned. Fruit orchards were expanded into commercial ventures, and citrus growers had begun their slow climb to importance in the county's economy. Even the production of raw silk, encouraged by a state bounty for mulberry trees and saleable cacoons, had seen some development. Louis Prevost had assumed leadership in this new i industry, and, in 1864, had planted nearly 9,000 acres of trees on the old Bandini property, and on other lands east of Santa Ana. His efforts had proved short-lived, however, because he had died in | August of the same year. The loss of his leadership, combined with ! the effects of the continued drought and a declining demand for silk eggs, had undermined this new industry for Los Angeles County. j j Finally, when the state withdrew its bounty, the boom in silk had 64 collapsed. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. — 224 Though Los Angeles farmers had turned away from silk, they had not been discouraged entirely over the possibilities of other new crops. Two that were successfully cultivated, cotton and tobacco, had strong appeal, for the market was already at hand. War-time conditions had closed off the Southern supply, and production in other areas had not nearly satisfied the demand. For these reasons, I as well as for their intrinsic worth as producers of profit, public interest had been high when California farmers had started to ex periment in local production. | Of the two, tobacco was the least successful. The locally grown weed had received a great deal of praise, but most of it was unearned if one compared the raw-grained California leaf to that which had formerly been smoked. Besides, the dry, desert climate just was not suitable for proper curing, and the leaves had literally dried up before maturing. Even so, continued efforts had been made to cultivate California tobacco, despite it being an apparent fiasco. In the Sixties and the Seventies, and on through the decades to the turn of the century, the weed had been cultivated— not so much in i Los Angeles County--in Santa Clara, San Benito, Alameda, and San Mateo Counties to the north. As late as 1950, the California crop was still significant enough for Liggett and Myers to operate a factory at San Francisco.^ But it was cotton that had made the more important contribu tion to continued prosperity in California agriculture. Admittedly, during the Sixties, it had not reached anything of the significance that later decades would see. Yet, during the war, and in the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. immediate years following, it had offered a signally important new i item for trade. ^ I Benjamin I. Hayes, as early as June, 1862, while on one of j his usual circuit trips throughout his judicial district, had ob- i i served the possibilities of cotton in Southern California. While in j | Yuma, he had called at the home of Captain George A. Johnson, a I | recent arrival from the State of Mississippi. As they had visited, ! Hayes had noticed some cotton which Johnson had planted along the I Colorado River. The plot was small, but the yield had been good. | All of the plants had a healthy appearance, and had grown to a stand four to five feet high with twelve to fifteen bolls of first grade cotton on each shrub.^ However, it had not been until 1864 that Los Angeles County farmers had started experimenting with cotton. | Mathew Keller appears to have taken the lead in this new venture, I 68 just as he had done in so many others. But he had not been alone. Mr. J. A. Watson had brought Conway a few samples of cotton that he had grown in his vineyards just outside of town; fine fibred cotton that had compared favorably with any that had been grown in the old 69 i South. Others, too, had been planting (Barrows, Temple, Workman, and M. M. Wilson), for cotton had brought good prices in the mar ket— 75$ to $1.00 a pound in San Francisco! Merchants, also, had begun to profit from this new industry; not only the forwarding a- J 70 gents, like Banning, but the storekeepers who sold the raw seed. Yet, with all the activity that Conway's news columns had reported, when it really had come down to the facts, all that he could admit was that "as yet but little cotton has been planted in Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 226 this sectIon;C butD what little has been grown has thrived most freely, i showing . . . that the staple can be raised in large quantities in | Southern California."^ Other areas had been turning to cotton even if Los Angeles | County had not. That is what had really bothered Conway as he i I contemplated the situation locally. Not only had the Mormons 72 developed their Utah "Dixie" at St. George, but California farmers | outside of Los Angeles County had done almost equally as well. Mr. | Newcomb, a former Texan who had had previous experience, had planted l I 2,000 pounds of Mexican white cotton seed in San Bernardino. At the I l same time, Tulare County farmers looked forward to getting a good profit ($280.00 an acre) from their cotton. But it had been in Kern County where the most extensive work had been done. Through the efforts of Livermore, Jewett & Company, a firm out of Tulare County, one hundred and fifteen acres of cotton had been planted on 73 Kern Island, just south of present day Bakersfield. However, Los Angeles farmers had not neglected the opportuni- i ties entirely, and soon had been able to increase both the quantity and quality of their cotton. In 1865, when the Board of Managers of the San Joaquin Valley Agriculture Society had reviewed the status of cotton production in California, Los Angeles had been j given a blue ribbon award. Not only had Mathew Keller cultivated j almost as many acres as Livermore and Jewett had planted in Kern j County, and had been able to report a yield equally as high as j theirs, but his cotton had proven superior to theirs; in texture, 74 in strength, and in staple. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. in Keller's cotton had made a name for Los Angeles farmers, but, j In the final analysis, all such efforts had not made any dramatic | j changes on the local scene. Experiments in cotton, like the companion attempts to grow tobacco and silk, had been, primarily, war inspired ventures. Agriculturists and propagandists had touted them as badly I j needed innovations in a stagnant economy, but, with the war over, and the end of isolation from Southern production, western experimentation had declined. Moreover, with the coming of the railroad, and the i competition that it had encouraged, western cotton and tobacco growers ] I j had been hard pressed to stay in the market. I j Cotton would eventually become important to California agri- I I culture, just as the diversification it had suggested would transform ] | its economy from the old world ways of the pastoral age. But the | change had been a slow process, a reluctant evolution that had had to overcome attitudes that had resisted innovation in the traditional way of life. California, in general, and the cow counties in parti cular, had been slow to adjust to the modern age, and the war-time I I experiences had had little influence on the process, or on the speed of change. I Much of the inertia that had held back change had been a part | of the Spanish-Mexican way of life where "manana" had always been I the vehicle of procrastination. But California's major difficulty— | the greatest factor that had hindered its development in the Yankee I 1 style— had been the complex confusion over land title and use. Some neighboring counties, like Santa Barbara, San Bernardino, and San | Luis Obispo, had solved their land title problems, but Los Angeles Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. -----------------------------------------------------------------------ZZff had not. Those counties had become more prosperous, but Los Angeles 75 j had not; and would not, until this basic issue had been resolved, j A beginning step in the right direction had been made during the "Great Drought" and the immediate after-years when the old-style cattle men had been driven to the wall. Control of the industry had shifted to the more aggressive (and greedy) members of the community; I I men who had been able to capitalize on the misfortunes of the old rancheros caught up in debts. Even with this change of ownership and | management, there had been no real modification in the basic economy, : or in the way in which land had been used. Cattle no longer covered | a "thousand hills," but the shift had been only to sheep. The land I was still being used as it had been in the older age; held by large | | landowners who had kept huge tracts tied up for grazing. This policy and practice was the root of all the county's continued economic trouble, and needed to be changed. Break up the ranches, Charles Conway had argued. Sell them to small, entrepreneuring settlers who will develop family-size farms. Then, and only then, could Los ! Angeles be able to build a balanced economy and a prosperous community--based upon artisans and mechanics instead of upon vaqueros | and paisanos.^ | A pattern for the new age had already been laid out in the | Fifties with the establishment of three successful farming communi ties in the area. Thrifty farmers, sometimes acting singly as the j 1 Texans had done in El Monte, or in cooperative ventures like the | German efforts at Anaheim and the Mormon colony at San Bernardino, I had suggested what might have been possible for Los Angeles County Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 229 if it would have encouraged the smallholding, homestead farmer. Nevertheless, these innovations had been minor variations in the local economy and had been unable to modify the traditional mode of j Southern California agriculture. Any real change had to await a 1 j later day after drought and bankruptcy had completed the ruin of the I j j cattle kingdom. i ; | John G. Downey was the first to realize the import of what i ! had to be done. At least, he seems to have been the first to put the | I j thought into action. Beginning with the colony of Nietos, a com- i munity in the San Gabriel River Valley on the way to San Pedro, Dow ney had opened his lands to the small, sod-busting fanner. Twenty thousand acres were offered for sale--"choice agricultural land ! with water for irrigation"--his advertisement in the Los Angeles News had read. Buyers could obtain plots of fifty acres or more, at $10.00 an acre. Terms were available, depending upon the location: one-tenth to one-fifth down payment, and the balance at ten per cent , . . 78 interest a year. Los Nietos had been an immediate success, and it quickly i I became a model for the rest of the community. One after another (especially after the vast holdings of Abel Stearns had been thrown onto the market in 1866) the former cattle and sheep ranches had given way to the immigrant settler, plowed fields, and irrigated 79 fanning It was a new way of life for Los Angeles County, and many factors had been operating to bring it about. Fundamentally, the Initiating crises had developed out of local circumstances: over- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 230 stocked pastures, a glutted market, drought, famine, and bankruptcy. But secondary pressures had lent Impulse to the process of change, | despite the lagging opposition. For example, Steam's first effort i had been to forestall disaster through mortgages rather than to solve his financial problems by selling his real estate properties. Never theless, the Inexorable pressure of entrepreneuring capital had seen greater opportunities in sub-dividing than in sheep and grazing land, so the Los Angeles and San Bernardino Land Company had been the re- , 80 suit. Of all the factors that had contributed to this changing | pattern of life among the rancheros, the most significant had been the rapid influx of immigrants during the immediate postwar years. Downey and other Los Angeles residents had seen the effects of this increase in population in the mild business boom that had developed in 1866. New stores going up along Main and Commercial streets had given real evidence of the tonic effect that new customers, and new money, could have on the community. That the flow of immigration would continue they had every right to expect. Conditions in the East, not only in the Recon structed South, but in the Union states as well, had given thou sands encouragement to make the long trek to California. Los Angeles had been bound to receive its continuing share of incoming migrants, and all who came could become customers for local businessmen and real estate developers. Thus, a new avenue of economic development had been opened for Los Angeles County. The primary impetus had emerged out of the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 231 sub-division projects already initiated by local residents who had tried this way out of their own straitened circumstances. But the | war, and its aftermath, had provided the means by which their fledg ling hopes had become full grown realities. To make realities out of dreams, prospective customers had to be turned into actual buyers. This had required advertising and salesmanship. Consequently, the land agents had gotten busy with the schemes and ballyhoo. Not only had they filled the local press and j showered the town with handbills, but they had carried their propa- | ganda throughout the state and across the continent to the cities on 81 the eastern seaboard; even to England and the continent of Europe. As one might well expect, the combined effect of all these factors had been to accelerate and multiply many times over the migration that the postwar conditions had motivated. Then, as new residents had poured into the county, attracted by the flamboyant advertising of a bit of "heaven on earth," a natural development had been a rush for the small, family size farms that had been promised, I ! Quite naturally, too, prices had risen to inflationary heights, and I a typical Southern California land boom had developed. More 1m- I portantly, as this renewed activity had energized the community, a wave of optimism bad permeated the whole county. New people, new ' money, new wants, new opportunities— all of these had encouraged new industries to meet the demands that the new age had brought. The whole of the business community had been caught up in the vision of the future; petroleum, railroads, banking, commercial gas and water works— the vehicles of a viable, diversified, and Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 232 89 prosperous economy. ^ This was Los Angeles as it had been developing in the immedi- | ate post Civil War years— a thriving buoyant community that had focused its eyes on the future. The past had still been evident in the lag that habit and inertia normally exert in a changing society, but the difficulties had begun to fade in the general enthusiasm for the new opportunities that the new days had promised. The future, too, would bring its problems, but these were yet unseen. At the time, the residents of Los Angeles County had faced their daily | tasks with expectant hope and justifiable pride in what they had accomplished. In the words of the editor of the Los Angeles News, | they could confidently declare: ' We doubt if there is any city on the Pacific Coast of equal j wealth and population that has [any] more reasons to be proud i [than the City and County of Los Angeles ]. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 233 NOTES Los Angeles News, July 8, 10, 13, 15, 1863. 2 Ibid., March 26, 1864. 3 Margaret Romer, "The Story of Los Angeles," Journal of the West, II (January, 1963), 176-182. A typical news credit was "The naval dispatch boat Gen. Lyon from Red River has arrived and we have the following in regard to affairs in Bank's department," Los Angeles News, April 29, 1864. His main trouble Conway had attributed to a monopoly of the tele- |graph by the northern papers: the Alta California, the San Francisco I Bulletin, and the Sacramento Union. Los Angeles News, July 30, 1864. 5 The accident occurred April 27, 1863, during a sudden squall that swamped the ship. Of the 53 passengers aboard, 26 men were killed outright; only 7 escaped injury. Among the dead were Albert S. jJohnston, Jr., Captain Seeley, William Sanford, and Tom Workman. |Banning's own family had been aboard; so had B. D. Wilson's. Krythe, iBanning, pp. 115-117, had summarized the accounts from the News and the Star. 6 Warner, Sketch of Los Angeles, p. 102. 7Ibid., p. 112. I 8 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, pp. 82-83. ;Cf. Hayes, Sketch of Los Angeles, p. 116. 9 Krythe, Banning, p. 14. Though Krythe's work lacks foot- i noting and is written in a narrative style with some fictionalized !conversation, it is, in the opinion of W. W. Robinson, a competent piece of research. 10 j A paraphrase of Krythe's "conversation1 9 between Stearns and Banning. Ibid., p. 25. ^ Ibid., p. 14. Banning recalled that he "bought out" Temple's interest (Lionel A. Sheldon, "Biographical Sketch of Phineas Banning," Bancroft Collection), but Krythe reported that little cash had been involved; only "his spirit, enthusiasm, and good business sense." 12 Guinn, Record of Los Angeles, p. 177. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 234 13 P. Banning, "Settlement of Wilmington" (Prepared by Edward P. Newkirk), San Francisco, 1883, California MSS, Bancroft Library. Also, see Krythe, Banning, pp. 75-78. 14 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 351. 15 San Francisco Bulletin, January 30, 1866. The item appeared as a letter "From Los Angeles, from our regular corres pondent." Guinn, Record of Los Angeles, p. 178,, identified the writer as H. D. Barrows. 16 Guinn, Record of Los Angeles, p. 178. 17 Hayes, Sketch of Los Angeles, p. 106, San Francisco Bulletin. January 20, 1866. 18 At least three competing steamships had operated on the Colorado River— the Esmeralda, the Nina Tilden, and the Minna Glidden. The Esmeralda was a small, compact ship used to tow four barges, but the other two had been designed like the Minna Glidden: "97 feet long, 22 feet bean; 4 feet deep and draws 12 inches of water" and had a carrying capacity of 120 tons. Los Angeles News, May 12; July 26; August 11; September 3, 1865; January 17, 1865. A second attempt to cut in on Banning was the proposal to construct a wagon road from Salt Lake City to the head of steamboat navigation on the Colorado. Ibid., July 16; September 3, 1864. 19 Ibid., August 15, 1865. 20 Ibid., January 20, 1864. 21 Ibid., January 25, 1864. 22 Ibid., February 21, 1864. 23 Henry Hamilton had reported only one to two inches of rain in 1864 and about the same amount for the previous year. Los Angeles Star, January 23, 1864. Arid conditions due to lack of rainfall had been aggravated by "harsh winds" that had dried up whatever forage that had greened up with the freshets of rain. Los Angeles News, March 28, 1864. 24 C. R. Johnson to Abel Stearns, June 1, 2, 13, 1863, in Stearns-Gaffey Collection, as quoted by Robert Glass Cleland, The Cattle on a Thousand Hills (San Marino, 1941), p. 175. Hereafter cited as Cleland, Cattle on a Thousand Hills. 25 Cleland, Cattle on a Thousand Hills, p, 175. 26 Ibid., pp. 178-179. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 235 27 Los Angeles Hews. April 6. 1864. 28 Cleland. Cattle on a Thousand Hills, p. 151n, has suggested j | that collusion among the buyers had forced prices even lower than | conditions had warranted. j 29 ' j Testimony of John Forster at the trial of Pio Pico (sued | for debts). Hayes. Notes on California Affairs. Bancroft Library. ! 30 Los Angeles News, January 22; March 9, 1864. 31 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 328. 32 I Notices of sheriff's sales for both Stearns and Pico j appeared in the same issue of the Los Angeles News, December 10, | i 1864. Cleland, Cattle on a Thousand Hills, pp. 137ff, has given a i j succinct description of the rise and fall of the cattle kingdom j in Southern California. j 33 Los Angeles Star, December 3, 1859. 34 Cleland, Cattle on a Thousand Hills, p. 182n. Cf. Los Angeles County "Delinquent Tax List," 1864, County Clerk's Office. ^Los Angeles News, March 2, 1864. 36 Conway, in the Los Angeles News, June 18, 1864, spelled out the new state law regarding tax delinquent suits. Formerly, such suits were begun in the justice courts, but, under the new arrangement, were to originate in the district court. An added peculiarity of the times had seen the sheriff acting not only as the county's law officer in tax suits, but as the tax collector as well. See Los Angeles News, February 16, 1866, for a report of taxes collected by Sheriff Sanchez in 1865. 37 I Los Angeles Star, December 15, 1860, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, | Vol. 50, Part I, Item 12. 38 Earlier, Hamilton had attacked the members of the grand jury by name, and had criticized their report for its selfish, shortsighted bias. Los Angeles Star, December 1, I860, in ibid., Item 13. 39 Los Angeles Star, February 28, March 24, April 14, 21, November 24, 1860; February 16, March 9, April 27, 1861, in ibid., Items 33, 40, 43, 59, 102, 161, 169, 181. 40Los Angeles Star, April 14, 1860, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 50, Part I, Item 33. A peculiar facet of Warner's proposal had been the suggestion to enlarge the city boundaries to forty square miles, presumably the limits of the proposed city-county unit. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 236 ^Los Angeles Star, April 27, 1861, in ibid., Item 181. I — — i 42 ; Los Angeles News, February 19, 1864. 43 j Wilmington Journal, February 10, 1866. 44 I Los Angeles News, September 2,5, 1865. i i A 5 In a letter to Hamilton on March 27, 1861, Murray Morrison i had explained that the project was too complex for hurried action; that the proposals had been received too late in the session for adequate study! Los Angeles Star, March 27, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 50, Part I, Item 173. J ^Los Angeles Star, August 31, 1861; Semi-Weekly Southern j News, August [n.dj , 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, Item 22. j ^ 7Henry Dalton to Ramon Olarte, January 16, 1864, in Henry ! Dalton Collection, Huntington Library. I 48 ! Newmark. Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 328. I 1 49 | Los Angeles News, January 25, 1864. i 50 Henry Dalton Business Papers, 1852-85, Dalton Collection. ^Los Angeles News, January 28, 1864. 52Ibid., July 20, 1866. 53 Cleland, Cattle on a Thousand Hills, pp. 213ff. 54 | Beaudry's "imprudence" sometimes had gotten him into I serious difficulties, personal and financial (he made and lost several | fortunes). Yet, he figured importantly in the development and growth of modern Los Angeles. For a review of his "feuds" and his contri- i buttons in local business life see Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern | California, passim. "^Los Angeles News, January 22, 1864. ~*^Ibid., September 1, 1864. 57Ibid., July 9, 1864. 58 Besides the usual silver and gold ore, a run of copper had been discovered in the San Gabriel area. Ibid., January 22, 1864. ~*^Ibid., September 1, 1864. This is a typical editorial trtiich carried Conway's frequently repeated theme. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 237 60 Cleland, Cattle on a Thousand Hills, pp. 184-192. 61 Wilmington Journal, February 22, 1867. 62 In 1867, Mathew Keller had written a report to the Sacramento Union on Los Angeles wine production: 40,000 gallons, almost one-fourth of the 1,300,000 gallons produced In the State of California. Wilmington Journal. February 23, 1867. It had been of high quality, too, having won awards consistently at state fairs and at the San Francisco Mechanics Institute. Los Angeles News, October 11; December 1, 1864; September 28, 1865. Cleland. Cattle on a Thousand Hills, pp. 192-193, gave a brief evaluation of the grape-vine industry, and suggested that the Wilson Papers remain an unexplored source of information about the wine industry in Southern California. 63 Los Angeles News, January 22, 1864. The Wilmington Journal, especially in its articles on Mathew Keller's ideas, had joined Conway in advocating the modernization of Los Angeles agri culture. 64 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, pp. 390-391. Hope springs eternal, so as late as April 3, 1869, the Los Angeles News had spoken expectantly of silk industry prospects. 65 John E. Baur, "California Crops That Failed," California Historical Society Quarterly. XLV (March, 1966), 47-49. 66 Los Angeles News, February 17, 1864. 67 Hayes, Notes on California Affairs, No. 124. A photocopy is available in Hayes, Emigrant Notes, Vol. 4, pp. 747-748. 68 Keller's contributions to California cotton are cited in the Wilmington Journal, September 9, 1865. He had been criticised for planting short staple, white, upland cotton in preference to the long staple, "Anguilla," or long staple, black Sea Island variety. Subsequent experience has proved Keller's advice. Over 90 per cent of all cotton now grown in the U.S. is upland short staple. N.W. Sellers, ed., John White's Farmer's Handbook (Norman, Okla., 1956), p. 68. 69 Los Angeles News, January 6, 1864. 70 Ibid., March 25; July 25, 1865. Both issues carried adver* tisements by Prudence Beaudry and the Edward E. Moore Seed Store. 71 Ibid., February 22, 1864. 72 In February, 1864, a 139 bale shipment came through Los Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 238 Angeles, bound for Rassohoff & Bros., of San Francisco. The Mormon cotton was "white, of fine texture, and generally of the character of the finest upland cotton of Texas and other Atlantic States." i Ibid., February 17, 1864 ! 73 Wilmington Journal, October 28, 1865; Los Angeles News, June 24, 1865. 74 Wilmington Journal, October 24, 1865. 75 ! Los Angeles News, November 20, 1866; March 19, 1867. | 76 Ibid., March 19, 1867. Since November, 1865, Andrew J. | Ring had been editing the News with considerable change in policy. | But, in economic matters, King had continued Conway's insistance | upon diversification of land ownership and use as the answer to the ; area's problems. 77 Ibid., March 19, 1967. Pio Pico soon followed suit and | offered farm land in 20 acre plots. Ibid., May 7, 1867. i 78 i Ibid., March 19, 1867. 79 Cleland, Cattle on a Thousand Hills, pp. 243ff. j 80 I Ibid., pp. 271-272. 81 Cleland, Cattle on a Thousand Hills, pp. 221ff., has | summarized the effects of California publicity on postwar immigration I to the state. 82 For a picture of postwar economic development see Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, pp. 342ff; Krythe, Banning, pp. 150ff, and files of the Los Angeles News and the Wilmington Journal for the period. 83 Los Angeles News, April 3, 1869. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER VIII WAR-TIME POLITICS In 1832, when the young French nobleman, Alexis de Tocque- ville, had concluded his brief, but penetrating, look at American Democracy, he had come away with a profound respect for the peculiar mechanics that operated government in the United States. Of the many characteristics that had delighted him, especially as he had compared conditions in America to the circumstances of aristocratic communities in Europe, the most startling was the tremendous amount of political opportunity that was enjoyed by the great mass of the people. To mingle together, to associate freely for political pur poses, was a privilege enjoyed in no other country to the extent that Americans had been able to practice it.* This had been the genius of the American political system, the vehicle of Democracy that had been making self-government a ! 1 reality. Jefferson had observed its latent power in the early days of the Republic when he and Hamilton had been at odds on public policy. So had the Jacksonians seen its worth in the age of reform— and all that they had done at the ballot box had capitalized upon the basic premises that Jefferson had laid down. Party politics had be come the mode of public expression in the American Republic. It was the tool to organize opinion, to get candidates elected, and to 239 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 240 legislate principles into an administrative policy. America, at the time de Tocqueville had written, had been | enjoying relatively peaceful days. There had been no national disaster nor danger from a foreign enemy that had pressed upon the people, and they had been free to follow their natural inclinations to divide into parties for private expression on public affairs. But times had not remained quiet, and the ways of peace had not continued. Disputes, which had fed upon the boiling antagonisms of sectionalism, had deepened the differences between the people and their parties until the whole structure of government--and the nation, itself--had been in danger of collapse. Stephen A. Douglas had foreseen these awful results even though he had failed to appreciate his own contributions to what had been happening. Departing from tradition to campaign personally, in the South as well as in the North, he had hoped to heal the breach that Popular Sovereignty had caused. Large and enthusiastic crowds had welcomed his speeches, but these expressions had been only surface demonstrations. Instead of fusion of interest to prevent a Republican victory, only implacable sectionalism had continued its way to secession and civil war. Frightened at the prospects, and realizing as early as mid-August that he could not win the election, Douglas had given up his personal campaign, and had switched to 2 deliberate appeals for defense of the Union. Heroic though his efforts were, they had not been able to stop the Yanceys and the Toombs at Montgomery. Neither had they spiked the guns of Sumter. But, when the war had come, he immedi- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 241 ately had put aside any partisan loyalties he still held, and had I 1 rushed to Washington to offer his services to the Lincoln Adminis- i j tration. Just what services Douglas might have expected to give, or what position he might have been offered, is a mute question, for 3 he died on June 3, 1861, just six weeks after the firing on Sumter. Some observers had speculated, even during the late campaign, that 4 a cabinet post had been in the offing. After all, fusion was in j the air, and "War Democrats" had been joining Unionists of all I | brands in their declared allegiance to the federal government. What could have been more natural, in this rush of patriotism, than for Lincoln and Douglas to have done what so many others had been doing; forgetting personal differences, submerging past political antagonisms, and joining hands in a united effort to save the nation. Lincoln had not been insensitive to these possibilities when Douglas had come with his offer to help. In fact, as he had begun to form his cabinet, the new president had already given serious thought to bringing into his administration former rivals, i j both from within and from outside the Republican Party. The appoint- ] ments of Gideon Welles and Salmon P. Chase had been steps in this direction; so had the invitation to John A. Gilmer, Democrat from North Carolina.^ But, in his final decisions, Lincoln had not been able to build a "war cabinet"— not even a coalition. For all practical purposes, his had been a partisan administration, organized by and of Republicans. After all, the Democrats had lost the election, and the Republicans were in control at Washington Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 242 even if their victory had been achieved only by the peculiarities of the electoral college system. So, despite the war and the ominous danger that had periled the nation, the traditional patterns of democracy had been continued. Restraints had to be established from time to time— suspension of habeas corpus, denial of free speech, and some invasion of privacy. But no general police state had been maintained. The opposition ! party had not been outlawed, nor had its leaders (even when they had | ! aped the deadly copperhead) been jailed or exiled as might have been | done. Especially significant, the right of suffrage had not been suspended because of the national emergency. In Washingtonand on Main Street across the land, citizens had been left to their own agency in things political. Consequently, campaigns and election eering had proceeded in the regular way whenever circumstances had demanded an election. The exigencies of the war--news of battles, victories, and defeats— had tempered the electors' moods, and had affected the direction of political action. Yet, in all affairs, I both national and local, partisan politics had continued in Civil i | War America, and politicians had been free to pursue their own special Interests as well as party advantage. California, in its own war-time politics, had proved to be no different than Washington and the rest of the country. Just as the war and its awful consequences had frightened Stephen A. Douglas into forgetting party sentiments, and had sent him rushing off to Lincoln, so loyal Californians, irrespective of party, had joined the initial rush to declare their support of the Union. Joint Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 243 I [ committees of Democrats and Republicans were formed in some counties, j i while, in others, mass meetings had replaced separate conventions | as a means of declaring voter opinion. In general, the first tend ency had been to forget former partisan feeling and not to worry about previous political alignments. The nation was aflame, and, in j | such circumstances, said the Napa Reporter, "If a man brings water to C help 3 exterminate C the 3 fire we do not stop to ask him his political M6 antecedents. Out of this fusion of loyal interests the People's Union I | Party of California had been organized. Its beginning had appeared during the governor's race in 1861 when efforts had been made to consolidate the Union Democratic and Republican forces behind Leland Stanford. The suggestion had come too late in the campaign to effect a merger of the parties, but the Republicans had won without it. Nevertheless, interest in consolidation of the parties had con tinued after the election, particularly as the dark days of 1862 had loomed so ominously for the federal cause. Specific efforts were made in the spring of that year when certain letters had been ! written to Governor Stanford urging him to use his Influence in | establishing a new party pledged to support the federal union and I | the administration of President Lincoln. Stanford had been loyal, i ; but he was a Republican first, and a Union man second. Partisan politics had run too strong for him to have any truck with Democrats, loyal or not. He would call a convention, he had replied to the j fusionists, but it would be a Republican Convention, and strict party organization would be maintained.^ Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 244 Blunt though Stanford had been, his response had not been as offensive as it might appear, for many Democrats had been equally I i insistent that no change should be made in the existing party or- O ganizations. Los Angeles Unionists had found this out in 1861 when they had tried to organize against the secession sentiment in the county. Under the leadership of Jonathan J. Warner, a People's Union Convention had been held on August 5, 1861 for the purpose of nominating candidates who would support the Union cause. Some I ! outstanding Los Angeles Democrats had followed Warner's example— j ! Governor John G. Downey, for one— .but, generally, the campaign had brought about very little change in the traditional position of democracy in the county. Douglas Democrats, at odds over secession, I j had stood aloof from the Regulars, but had not gravitated to the j People's Party as many of them had been doing in the northern part I of the state. At the same time, the Regulars had castigated them both, lumping the Douglasites and "Mongrel" People's Union Party as nothing but would-be Republicans whose policies on abolition had 9 brought on the war. j Under such circumstances there had been no real fusion of the I parties in that first election following the outbreak of the war. Neither had it occurred later, despite the continual appeal to I Unionism as a test of loyalty. They had lost some strength to the fusion movement, but, all through the war, Los Angeles Democrats had 10 been able to organize and function as usual. Leadership of the two organizations— Union and Democratic— had come from among the county's prominent citizens, men of wide Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 245 experience in business and politics since the early Fifties. For the j ! Unionists, Jonathan J. Warner was outstanding, not only as the presi- ] t dent of the first convention in 1861, but as a continuing force through out the history of the party. Besides Warner, Joseph S. i I Mallard, Juan Sepulveda, Abel Stearns, Ezra Drown and Phineas Banning I | had been consistently active, either as committee members or as | I delegates to state and national conventions. Stearns had been re- j I cently a Republican, but most of the Unionist leaders had been Demo crats until Sumter had forced a change. Particularly had this been j ! true of Warner, Mallard, Drown and Sepulveda. Banning's interest had been primarily extra-political--more concerned with business connections than in politics per se— and he had left it to others to campaign and electioneer in pre-war days.** The Democrats, too, had had equally prominent names on their county roster. As a matter of course, Jonathan R. Scott had been active in the leadership circle, just as he had been from the begin ning of the party's organization. So had been E. J. C. Kewen, Dr. John S. Griffin, Antonio F. Coronel and Benjamin D. Wilson. These, i j with Myron J. Newmark, Henry Hamilton, Ygnacio Sepulveda, Cristobel Aguilar, Volney E. Howard, Thomas A. Mayes, E. C. Parrish and Mathew Keller, were the usual names found as delegates when the Democrats had sent representation to their conventions during the 12 war. Both organizations had had their publicists. Henry Hamilton, apologist for the Democrats, had continued his emotional attack on the Lincoln Administration, while Charles R. Conway and the Los Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 246 13 Angeles News, had served the Unionists. However, Conway s pen had not been the only one that had written for the Unionists. Jonathan | J. Warner, capitalizing on his rich background as editor of the de- I | funct Southern Vineyard, had written many a diatribe to the San I Francisco papers to describe conditions in Los Angeles County. i Under his various pseudonyms (Seldon, Viejo, and Vindicator), he had kept up such a telling attack on disloyalty that Hamilton had been hard pressed to defend his cause. From any point of view these developments--on the local scene | as well as on the state level-had been a major turning point in i California's political history. The election of September, 1861, had been a crucial one, and the realignment of parties had been only one manifestation of its portents for the future. At stake had been not only the question of who would govern the state, but which brand of federalism California would endorse at the polls. With the election of Leland Stanford as governor, this first issue of Civil War politics had been decided. California would not leave the Union, nor would it give any comfort to the cause of secession. i i i Henceforth, any treasonable acts or manifestations of disloyalty I j could be considered only as local phenomena and not as an index to the state as a whole. Henry Hamilton had protested the charge implied in this analysis, and had emphatically denied that a vote for the Demo cratic candidate, John R. McConnell, had been an expression of disloyalty. The real issue of the election, said Hamilton, had been "constitutionalism and Peace," and not secession. Moreover, re- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 247 publicanism was dead in the United States if support of the Lincoln j Administration was to be considered as the only criterion of loyalty. Such arguments had been only political propaganda, a smoke screen i manufactured by Black Republicans to hide their nefarious schemes i 1 with the abolitionists. The matter that should have been decided was this: how to end the war that Abraham Lincoln and the aboli- ; t | tionists had brought about; how to save the country from their i t "unholy pursuit" of objectives which had overthrown the constitution 14 in a "blind and fanatical admiration of the negro." Thus, Hamilton had advised his readers as they had pondered the candidates and issues of the gubernatorial race in 1861, they needed to be on guard lest the heat of emotional patriotism should blind them to what was really happening in the country. What they I had needed to do was to pick men of "sound Democratic principle" who would protect the peoples' real interests. Not men of the calibre of John Conness! Hamilton had laughed that idea to scorn. Even | Leland Stanford-unthinkable possibility that it might have been— would have been preferable to John Conness: the Great Bulkhead monopolist, gouger of the miners, spend-thrift of the people's resources, and a poor excuse for the Broderick that he had hoped to 15 j replace. To elect Conness would only have been a return to Broderickism whose broken remnants were then hiding under the banner of Union Democracy. Black Republicanism would only be worse. There fore, the only sane course that Los Angeles could have taken was to j vote the straight, Regular, Democratic ticket, for county and state | offices as well. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Thus, the issues had been joined, and the battle of words 1 had been fought out in Los Angeles County. Warner and Conway had ! struggled mightily against the Star, but their efforts had been in j ; vain. Hamilton and the Democrats had had too much influence in the j community for the Unionists to overcome. In a postmortem of the election, Conway had filled his paper j j with long laments over the sad state of affairs in the county. Not I only had the Union Party been utterly defeated, but it had suffered I the loss while the rest of the state had gone overwhelmingly for Stanford. Then, as if that had not been embarrassing enough, Los ; Angeles had not just voted Democratic, but they had gone three-to- one against the Republicans, a direct reversal of the ratio voted by the state at large.Secession and disunion had carried the day, i Conway had moaned, and, henceforth, Los Angeles would be known as a i j "county not to be relied upon." j With such an overwhelming victory for the Democrats in Los Angeles, prospects had not looked very bright for the Unionists of the county. But, in the light of the increased trouble that the Democrats had experienced in subsequent elections, perhaps Conway had been a bit previous in his judgment. At the same time, any estimates that had called Stanford's election a great victory for the Republicans should have been evaluated more cautiously. Rather than a Republican victory, per se, it had been a triumph for Unionism; a protest against secession. Stanford could not have won without the t t help of the Peace" Democrats who had voted against disunion. Neither could he have been elected if the Democrats had not been Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 249 divided. Equal in importance to the Democratic ballots that had gone to Stanford despite his Republican affiliation had been the direct j assistance given him when the opposition vote had been divided be- ! , ,,19 tween Conness and McConnell. Though a preliminary analysis may have given more weight to the Republican victory than was justified, the immediate effects had ! been dramatic in their results. Shortly after the election, increased| numbers of Southern sympathizers had left California to join the Confederacy. Many of them had been outstanding leaders in the state, j particularly in the Democratic Party. Senator William M. Gwin was i j one who had left, taking a steamer out of San Francisco. With him had gone two others: Congressman Calhoun Benham and "Mr. Democrat" from Los Angeles—>J. Lancaster Brent. Others had followed the Johnston-Ridley trail through Yuma, making their way overland across the desert to Texas. Daniel Showalter, and all of those who had followed his example, had gone this way. Charles L. Scott, congress man from California until March 4, 1861, failed to return to the state at the end of his term, going, instead to the South where he i | joined the Confederacy. Also to the South had gone Philemon T. Herbert, erst-while resident of Los Angeles, and former congressman 20 from the Southern District of California (1856). Because much of the traffic to Dixie had gone by way of Los Angeles, and, especially, because county personalities had figured so importantly in such questionable activities, it had been a natural consequence to question their implied loyalty to the federal government. Then, with the consummate result that the 1861 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 250 election seemed to have shown, Conway and Warner felt that they had been more than vindicated for having labeled the county disloyal, 21 if not outright secessionist, j For these same reasons, the Unionists of Los Angeles County j 1 had justified continuing their party organization in spite of the terrible beating they had taken at the polls. As they had stated in their original "Address to the Loyal and Patriotic Voters of Los I Angeles County," the presence of so "many active and influential i jcitizens who are hostile to the Government . . . whose efforts for !its disintegration are strenuous and undisguised ..." made it I mandatory that equally strenuous efforts should be made by the loyal men in the community "to relieve the County of Los Angeles from the interpretation that it is the nursery, resort, and hot-bed of dis- 22 loyalty" that appearances had made it to be. This had not been an easy course that they had laid down for themselves, nor had their continual efforts to unite against disunion been very encouraging. Not only had the expected help from !the "Peace" Democrats failed to materialize on the state level, but, i |locally, the Unionists had had considerable difficulty holding their forces together. Part of the circumstance had been a reflection of the times. After all, Los Angeles had been far removed from the actual fighting, and (though the worry had continued), there had been no real danger at home. Thus, many who had joined the fusion I movement in that first flush of patriotism had had sobering second l thoughts about their political commitments, and had begun to drift back into traditional molds. Even those who had still claimed them- Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 251 selves loyal had been less than valiant in local elections. As a result, the Regulars had not only continued to control the county, i | but they had won most of the city offices almost without a contest. To Charles Conway, and his fellow members of the Peoples' Union Party, this had been ample testimony that too many of those who had professed Unionism in Los Angeles County had been actual "tories" no matter how much they had continued to deny it. Rather than joining, and supporting, the People's Union Party out of a real j commitment to the federal cause, they had prated loyalty for selfish ! reasons only. "They Cthemselveal wish to forget, and have the i j I [real] Unionists forget, that a word of treason ever emanated from them, and they now desire to have it believed that they [the Peace Democrats] are, and ever have been, a party of loyal and unflinching 23 Union lovers." Nevertheless, the political winds were changing, and the Democrats had not been able to continue things entirely their own way. Even in the city election of May, 1862, when Damien Marches- seault had won the mayor's office without opposition, other Regulars i ! | had had considerable difficulty. Myron J. Newmark had almost missed ! election as city attorney, making it only by a two-vote margin over James H. Lander who had polled 252 ballots in spite of his Union Party membership. Other Regular Democrats, like N. A. Potter, Antonio F. Coronel, A. Poulain, John Turner and J. Weizal, had controlled the city council, but a Unionist, Henry N. Alexander, had become city treasurer by a comfortable margin over his Demo cratic opponent. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. j 252 I Such results may have Indicated the relative influence of j i : | local personalities rather than any pull that party loyalty had | exerted on the voters. As Henry Hamilton had stated in his report j j on the election, the event had gone off without much excitement, and I 24 j the city government had settled into its customary habits. How- j I ever, quiet had not continued on the county political scene, for I i public excitement had increased as the events of 1863 had sharpened the issues between the parties. Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation, questions on the national currency, federal policies on conscription, | habeas corpus, censureship of the press, and the proposed seizure of I California mines by the federal government— all of these had been hot issues that had demanded public debate. Then, when the California legislature had adopted its own version of the federal law defining 25 loyalty, the war, and the policies that had originated in Wash ington, had been brought closer to home, and the county politicos had responded accordingly. ! As a matter of course, Henry Hamilton and Charles Conway i had gone at each other with hammer and tongs, attacking and defending 26 their respective positions with their usual lack of finesse, j However, their argument had not just been an exercise in journalistic forensics. Neither had they concerned themselves only with the questions associated directly with the war. Momentous decisions | were being mapped out on the fields before Vicksburg and Gettysburg, i and the federal policies had had a related significance to the massive struggle that those names had suggested. But for all their i importance to the fate of the nation, what had happened that fateful Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 253 year had not dinned the importance of local issues that Californians had had to decide. 1863 was an important election year. Besides city | and county offices, and seats in the legislature, the governor's i chair was again available. Even a federal judgeship had been at stake. Benjamin 1. Hayes, for the first time in his long career on i the bench, was being seriously challenged as Judge of the First I District Court of California. ! But of all the offices and issues, none of them had nearly I | as much significance in the total campaign as the peculiar position j that the Democrats had obtained in California politics of the year | 1863. Even before the Vallandighamites had aggravated the question | of loyalty into the national issue that it had become in 1864, the I I term "copperhead" had been applied to California Democrats who had | sought office— John 6. Downey for governor, Henry Hamilton for the i senate, Ygnaclo Sepulveda for the assembly, and, even Benjamin 1. Hayes, the incumbent candidate for the federal judgeship of Southern California— had been open to charges of political infidelity. They ' 2 7 had been called "Copperhead," a label that had carried all the dis- trust, and disgust, that is usually reserved for the sneaky viper whose deadly venom was so feared. Judge Hayes had recognized something of the seriousness of the struggle that he, and his fellow Democrats, were having with the Unionists when he had written in June, 1863, to his San Bernardino friend, Judge John Brown. Brown had written previously to Hayes, and had expressed his fears about "trouble in this state." H&yci, in reply, had admitted that "times are bad," but he had Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 254 smiled away Brown's worries by reminding him that there had been noth-j i ing happening more serious than the usual strong party excitement. j | He expected things to get worse as the campaign proceeded, but, he had concluded, "the election will be held— and quiet, as usual will prevail . . . "28 Considering the eventual outcome of the election, Hayes should have been more worried than his letter to John Brown had indicated. Perhaps he had been too long on the bench (1853-1864) with hardly any opposition and the memory of former elections had lulled him into a false sense of security. Besides, he had felt that he had an inside track with the electorate, particularly with the large native population in Los Angeles and the adjacent counties. Then, when he had learned of a reported split in the ranks of the Santa Barbara Unionists, home district of his opponent, Pablo de la 29 Guerra, he had relaxed and counted the victory already his. Nevertheless, he had gone down to defeat, though it had been by the narrow margin of sixty-nine votes. Hamilton's Star had immediately cried "fraud," claiming that thirty-five ballots for Hayes had been i | arbitrarily thrown out in one county. These votes, plus those that should have been contested in two other counties, would have 30 defeated De la Guerra. Hayes had not claimed that he had been cheated, but did note, with suspicion, that all of the sixty-nine ballots from the soldiers at Yuma had been cast solidly against him. It had only been a coincidence— just the measure of his defeat— but the implications of "coercion" had been too strong for the good 31 judge to ignore. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 255 That there could have been Irregularities in the election ! goes without saying £or it had been so common an occurrence that it | had become almost the way of life in Los Angeles democracy. The ] usual techniques had been commonly employed: challenging and denying the right to vote, double balloting, moving polls to unannounced and ! unhandy locations, opening and closing the polls at shortened in- 32 tervals, ad infinitum. The Board of Supervisors of Los Angeles County, normally the judge and overseer of election procedures, | itself had not been above "tinkering" with the voting lists; appoint- ! | ing friends as election judges and manipulating the polling appoint- I I ments in order to facilitate political advantages. Even Benjamin I. Hayes, himself, had been accused, in 1859, of inducing voters not to cast their ballots, and of having caused some already cast to be thrown away. He had denied the charges at the time, and had been vindicated by testimony that, actually, there had been no election held— hence, no fraud could have been perpetrated. Nevertheless, the air still had hung heavy with suspicion, especially when it had come to light that the same friends who had defended the judge ! had been the very ones who had been responsible for the polls not being opened so the people could have voted. Their excuse had been, as they had explained in a public card, that only a small number of electors had been at the polls— "not to exceed ten in number"— and / / that the election judges, Don Santiago Martinez and Don Ramon Ybarra, had not been present; so the polls could not be opened. Santiago had not appeared at all, and Ybarra had left the polls early in the morning, not having remained there for more than half an hour. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 256 Thus, there had been no election Martinez and Ybarra had blandly i i announced; so there could not have been any cheating or ballots j i ! 33 I thrown away! Where, one cannot help but ask, had collusion stopped short of fraud? Whatever the situation had been in 1859, fraud had been no 34 serious factor in the election in 1863. Rather than voting irregularities, the results that day had reflected the changing temper of the times. Like the other members of the chivalry | community of Los Angeles County,. Judge Hayes' attitudes, and his | ! devotion to the Union had come into question. His personal actions had been circumspect, even to the point of enforcing the law requir ing lawyers to swear to an oath of allegiance before they could practice in court, however much he, himself, had disagreed with its provisions. Nevertheless, as"Viejo" Warner had reported in one of n his typical letters to the Alta California, Hayes, in his affections, had gone after the Confederate States of America, and he had suffered 35 at the polls accordingly. Other factors undoubtedly had entered into the voters' i | reasoning before they had cast their ballots, but, with Hayes, the 36 main difficulty had been his personal ambiguity. He had been loyal to the Union in the strictest sense of the word, but his heart felt sympathies had lain with his friends in the South. Such a dichotomy in loyalties may be resolved privately, and, in the pursuit of his normal duties, Judge Hayes had been able to do it. But, when one*8 ideals and practices are revealed in paradox, as may so often happen in the heat of debate, then it becomes liicrc*s 1 ngly difficult Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 257 to equate the differences before the voters. I j These had been the conditions under which the "loyal" Demo- I crats of California had been laboring since the start of the war. | They had been faithful to the cause of the Union, and, in varying j degrees of sympathy, had lent their support to the war to stop i secession. However, when it had come to a question of politics, and proven fidelity to the Union had required support of the Lincoln Administration, then it had been another matter. Consequently, they had opened themselves to charges of inconsistency. They had urged i j the prosecution of the war to its last extremity, but, at the same I | time, they had attacked the premises upon which the administration had formulated its war-time polic I c S . Senator Milton S. Latham had sounded key-note of "Copperhead" inconsistency in August, 1862, when he had given a series of stump speeches in the northern part of the state. At the time, there had been no serious challenge before the electorate— only the choice of ; who should be State Superintendent of Instruction. But, politician ! i that he was, Latham had not been able to resist the opportunity to i expand the debate into a discussion of national questions. ! Ostensibly, Latham had been a Union Democrat, but the more | | he had talked, the more he had sounded like a Breckinridge secession- i ! ist. The South had started the war, he had argued, and the federal i government had had to fight in self-defense. But the original object had been abandoned for spurious reasons, and the Constitution had been violated by the passage of emancipation laws, confiscation bills, and the unlawful arrest and imprisonment of honest citizens. The Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 258 atm of the war should still be to preserve the Union, but with the 37 rights of the states unimpaired. | Such gross inconsistency in Latham's reasoning could not help I | but affect the voters, and the results at the polls had suggested | that they had been thinking. Not only had John Swett, the Union j i Party candidate won handily, but his majority had been more than dou- 38 ble the nun&er of votes given to both of his Democratic opponents, j After the election, many Democrats had seen the futility of ; what Latham and other party leaders had been saying and had set about i in an effort to reduce its effect. Thus, when the state committees j met— both Union and Breckinridge— both had been ignored when they 1 had called for state nominating conventions in the summer of 1863. The situation had become hopeless, the rank and file had reasoned, if the party was to continue going before the people under two I banners. Practical politics dictated otherwise, and it behooved the j two wings of democracy to unite instead of continuing their un- i natural separation. To this purpose, clubs had been organized throughout the counties, and all Democrats had been invited to join in a united effort to resurrect the California Democratic Party as it had always been. Fusion efforts had proved successful, and the separate wings of the party had dissolved. By this action, the basic contradiction between the Union and Breckinridge factions had ceased to be signifi cant , and the party had been able to proceed on common premises. A natural expectation would have been an immediate improvement in its public image, especially since the "rebel” stigma had (hopefully) Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 259 been removed along with the Breckinridge tag-line. Unfortunately, this had not proved to be the case when the candidates had gone be- I fore the people in the elections of September, 1863. Ex-Governor Downey was again a candidate for the office, though he had been reluctant to accept the nomination. His record at Sacramento had been I | creditable, especially because of his staunch defense against the | monopolists of San Francisco. However, his "war record" had not been as good. Though he had publicly declared for the Union, his personal attitude, particularly as manifested in private statements, | had left much doubt as to his real commitment to the federal govern ment. During the course of the campaign, much of what he had said in 1861 had come back to haunt him, especially when his attitude on coercion had been called into question. This had not helped him with the voters; nor had the party platform framers, when they had defined the Democratic position at the Sacramento convention. Instead of taking a lesson from their 1862 experience with Latham when politi cal inconsistency had proved their undoing, the Democrats, in 1863, had been equally ambiguous as they had argued for "The constitution i 39 | as it is, and the Union as it was." I Downey's defeat in the race for governor had not only been a personal loss, but, at the same time, it had served as an index to the diminished appeal that ambivalent democracy had had for the electorate of California. Though he had polled an impressive 44,622 votes to Frederick F. Low's 64,283, Downey's tally was nearly 20,000 fewer than the two Democratic candidates had earned against Stanford in 1861. Even in Los Angeles County, Downey and the Democrats had Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 260 begun to slip from their traditional position of assured power. Hamilton and Sepulveda, county candidates for the state legislature, j won election over the Union nominees, but Downey, despite his home- j I town appeal, had made a much poorer showing than McConnell had done two years before.^® What is particularly interesting in this whole analysis of voting patterns is the obvious shift away from Breckinridge politics in Los Angeles County. Though Unionist gains had not been spectacu lar in any instance, they had been building their strength through i I the years so that, by the last year of the war, they were able to sweep the local elections with the largest majorities ever received 41 by any candidates in their previous bids for office. Such a victory would have been the occasion for rejoicing for any party, but, as Wilmington Journal had remarked, it had been especially gratifying to the patriots of Los Angeles County. "It is proof [at last^j that men are getting disgusted with those who [have triedD to ! destroy the country," and now wish to see it restored to its wanted 42 peace and tranquility. i [ This happy position for Los Angeles Unionists had not been easily reached, though the returns of 1863 had prophesied the rising fortunes that their party would enjoy. Before victory, there had been a long and difficult journey for them to travel. Not only had they had to follow (vicariously with the rest of the nation) the bloody road to Appomattox, but also the tortuous trail of 1864 when a weary people were being persuaded that the cost of the war had been too great. Nevertheless, the Unionists had worked at keeping up Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 261 their resolves through it all. They had held their conventions, gathered in rallies, and put on other public demonstrations in a | i continued appeal to the patriots of Los Angeles County. When I Lincoln had been nominated again in 1864, local Unionists had not been content with the usual support that would come from the county committee. In an additional effort, they had organized a separate Lincoln-Johnson Club to lend specific aid to the Republican nominees in the campaign for votes. Thus, a determined effort had been made to cover the county. Charles Conway and his Los Angeles News had | continued his broadsides against Copperheads and traitors, but the Lincoln forces had not left it entirely to him. Local rallies had been planned, both in Los Angeles and in Wilmington. Here the voters had been fed, entertained, and regaled in the usual manner of election oratory. On special occasions, out-of-town speakers, sent forth on speaking tours by the State Union Committee, had canvassed the county in a fashion that no previous campaign had seen. Of all those who had visited the southern part of the state, William E. Lovett, senator from Santa Cruz County, had proven the i t | most effective in swinging Los Angeles voters behind the Republican banner. On two different occasions, he had visited Los Angeles, speaking there, and at Wilmington, each time he had come through the town. In addition, he had circuited the other precincts, paying particular attention to the soldiers at Drum Barracks and the neigh boring community of Old San Pedro. From there, he had gone out through El Monte, speaking there, and at Cucamonga, on his way to San Bernardino.^ Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 262 Just how much influence Lovett and the other Union Speakers had had on the "peace-States' rights" Texans of El Monte may not be I * measured for newspaper reports had not included any on-the-spot accounts of his visits. However, when rumors of disaffection over McClellan's nomination began to filter in from throughout the county— especially that Henry Hamilton was having trouble stomaching "the | grave digger of the Chickahominy"^— the Unionists had taken heart at their prospects. Their hopes had been a bit premature, however, i ! for the Democrats had closed ranks behind "Little Mac," even though I | they had been forced, like Hamilton's Star, to "struggle hugely ; 45 l l before they had 3 gasped, and swallowed him at last." Even El Monte, whose trouble over McClellan's insistence on the Union as the 46 price of peace had broken up their local political club, had gone to the polls as Democrats, and had voted 114 to eighteen against 47 Lincoln and the Republicans. El Monte's vote against the Republicans had been a resounding defeat for the Unionists in that precinct, but it had not set the i pattern for the rest of the county. Gut of the total ballots cast in i the election, Los Angeles voters had given nine hundred and fifteen to Lincoln and Johnson, while the Democrats had received only S58. Un fortunately for the Unionists, irregularities had appeared so that, when the returns had been officially validated by the board of super visors, 374 ballots had been disallowed. Four precincts had suffered, Unionists along with the Copperhead Democrats. Wilmington lost its entire vote— 309 ballots for Lincoln, and two votes for McClellan. San Jose, Azusa and Tejon also had ballots cast out, the Copperheads Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 163 i losing 102 votes to fifty-one for the Unionists. Thus, when the j 1 official tally had been reported, the Unionists had received only 555 | votes to the Democrat's 744. Nevertheless, the county had actually | voted Republican, though a "moral" victory had been all that the I 48 j Unionists could count. | Credit for the victory has been given to the "irrepressible i ; Banning" who had worked so hard in his local bailiwick of Wilmington 49 | for the Union cause. The rallies that he had sponsored— one just | before the election reportedly had cost him $5,000— had outdone anything that Los Angeles had ever put on.However, when the campaign was over, and the "morning after" had set in, some of the Unionists of Los Angeles had begun to wonder whether Banning had been such a friend after all. Yes, he had gone all out in a public display for the Union cause, and what he had done seemed to have clinched the victory that was all but assured.How the Wilmington- ites had let it slip away "through irregularities," especially when Union men had been in charge of the polls, was more than some could I I ! understand. But, as questions had been asked, certain peculiarities I | had come to light suggesting that deliberate intent, not chance and I error, had lost the election that day in Wilmington. When the board of supervisors had disallowed the disputed i i ballots, they had done it because the tallies and poll lists had not been signed by the judges or clerks as the law had required. J. J. Warner, who had been one of the judges at Wilmington, had explained that the polling officials had not understood that requirement. Such an excuse had been a poor alibi, and had been easily recognized as Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 264 a blind to hide the real purpose that Warner and Banning had in mind. In every election, all such instruction had been written in Spanish. But, in recognition of the bilingual nature of the Los Angeles com munity, they had also been written in English— in the newspapers as | well as in the official documents that had gone to the polling places. I | But for Warner to have argued that Spanish was unintelligible to him, I ' I a man fluent as a native through his long association with the lan guage and with the people of Mexican California, was an outright distortion of the truth. Besides that, he had had frequent experience i with board of supervisor rules, having served frequently as an elec tion judge in Los Angeles, and was familiar with the regulations 52 that had governed voting procedures. The whole affair had the strange earmark? of deliberate contrivance to void the Union vote at Wilmington, and to use the outcome for Banning's special advantage in the county. This had been a harsh indictment of Warner, especially in the light of his worthy efforts against the secessionists of Los Angeles County. Nevertheless, that he had been guilty as charged | was believed implicitly by those who had questioned what had | happened at Wilmington. Why had he done it? | The answer to this question lies somewhere within the i j labyrinth of inter-related forces that unites politics and vested | commercial interests in order to accomplish what may seem to be a disconnected purpose. Phineas Banning wanted to build a railroad from San Pedro to Los Angeles. To accomplish his project, he had needed all the support that he could get, especially legislative authorization from Sacramento, and the financial cooperation that Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 265 the local business community could give. The election of 1864, though unconnected on the surface, became, through the connivance | of Warner at the polls, the first step in a well-planned campaign to secure for Banning these twin objectives. This first step would be followed by a second, a third, and all that were necessary to accomplish his goal: to make Wilmington what Banning had begun to ! dream it would be--not only the terminus of steamer traffic from the north, but for the railroad that had to be built. In actuality, the residents of the county, in the main, had not been adverse to Banning's suggestion that Los Angeles ought to get involved in railroad construction. In fact, they had been in the vanguard of railroad promotion from the earliest days when the possibilities of western railroads had been first suggested. As early as 1841, when Warner had gone east for a visit to his family home in Lyme, Connecticut, he had pioneered the idea of a railroad to California. Asked to lecture on life and times on the Pacific Coast, he had spoken before a civic group in Rochester, New York (repeating it later to a similar society in Upper Middletown, Connecticut), where he had sounded the first call for the construe- I 53 tion of a transcontinental railroad. Warner's talks had been interesting, but polite applause had been the only response. This was understandable for few men in 1841 could have foreseen the events that would take Americans in their great rush across the plains and mountains to make the Pacific Coast a part of the nation. Least of all, there had been little perception of how time and distance could really be spanned by the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 266 Iron Horse and gleaming rails. Nevertheless, the railroad had come to California, and, with the chartering of the Central Pacific Com- | pany at Sacramento, a meagre start had been made toward the goal that would eventually be reached at Promitory Point. ' While the major attention had been centered in Sacramento i I i and San Francisco, the business men of Los Angeles, too, had caught i ! j the railroad fever. Some excited talk had suggested Los Angeles and i I ! Wilmington as an alternate terminus for the transcontinental route. i | After all, was not that the logical conclusion of the Gadsden Pur chase? Moreover, the primacy of county freighters (both Banning and his rivals, Tomlinson and Goller) had spoken loudly of Wilmington’s strategic location in the trade centers of the southwest, and along 54 the routes to the East. Whatever prospects these possibilities may have held for the future, in 1861, the businessmen of Los Angeles County had not been willing to wait. They had started building their own railroad— a twenty-six mile line from San Pedro to Los Angeles. Not only had they secured the necessary authorization from the legislature, but 1 their concentrated efforts had pinned down promises of financial support at home. Unfortunately for their dreams, the realities of war and drought-ridden bankruptcy had intervened, and the one-year legislative authorization had expired without a rail being laid."*'* In 1864, though, a new day had been breaking in Los Angeles County. The drought was in its last year, and business prospects had started to improve. More especially, the events in the East had begun to predict a changing climate for economic endeavor. With Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 267 the fall of Atlanta, and the subsequent campaigns of the fall and win ter of 1864, the stage had been set for the last thrusts against the jConfederacy. Perceptive eyes had seen in these events the effects that peace would bring. Soon the soldiers would be going home, and the energies and resources that had formerly been expended for the i jwar then could be directed into new channels. In California, and, particularly, in Los Angeles County, Phlneas Banning had intended that such energies and resources should help build his railroad. But to direct them that way, he had had to !plan well, taking into careful consideration all possible angles and situations. A vital factor in his planning had to be recognition of the circumstances that operated in the Los Angeles business community. The men of wealth, and of political power, were Democrats— most of them Copperhead Democrats at that. Thus, if Banning was to expect any degree of success in his venture, he had to have their sympathy and support. Moreover, he had needed their help in a positive way— not just their casual acknowledgement that the railroad would be an ;asset to the community— but in personal commitments that would bring these men into close contact with the project, enlist their capabili ties in the diverse ways of politics and government, and, in its final effect, build a working partnership for mutual concern and benefit. Thus, Banning had to cultivate anew his relationships with John G. Downey, Dr. John S. Griffin, Benjamin D. Wilson, and the other members of Los Angeles chivalry, to see that nothing amiss would develop, that no rupture between them would endanger the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 268 construction of the Los Angeles to San Pedro Railroad. Previous to the election campaign of 1864, Banning had always enjoyed a close working relationship with these men of wealth and power, and had been able to do business with them no matter how they had differed politically. But, in the heat of electioneering, even Banning had given voice to labels that had castigated Democrats as Copperheads and traitors. Such remarks may have been understood as mere campaign fodder, but, as Dr. John S. Griffin had expressed his worries to Wilson, it appeared that Banning had been taking a little advantage of their friendship by the way he had been going about the campaign.Therefore, as the tide began to swing toward a Union victory, on the battle field as well as at the polls, it had become imperative that Banning do something to mitigate the loss that his secessionist friends 57 would feel. Seemingly, throwing the election in Wilmington was the gesture that Banning had made. After all, a Republican victory in the state was a foregone conclusion, and the county vote would have i had little effect on the total outcome. But, in this empty triumph for the Copperheads of Los Angeles, there had been more than just a moral victory at the polls. It was a soothing balm to their hurt j feelings for what had been happening in the Deep South; a way to save face before their neighbors in the county. More importantly, it had repaired any rift that campaign oratory might have en couraged; insuring Banning that his friends (Wilson, Downey, Griffin, and others) would join him in organizing the Los Angeles-San Pedro Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 269 Railway Company and any other projects that they might develop for 58 their mutual benefit. Much of this can be surmised only from speculation about Banning's motives in November, 1864. But, when it comes to an analy sis of his political activities, it becomes easier to agree with opinions (like Charles Conway's) that Banning and Warner had begun I j to use the Union Party for their own special purposes in Los Angeles County. Conway had noted some indications in that direction as early as the spring of 1864 when delegates had been chosen to attend the | national nominating convention at Baltimore. Phineas Banning had I been appointed, and had left Wilmington with the announced Intention 59 ; of going east to the convention. The other delegates had taken I ship as planned, but Banning had gone no farther than San Francisco, 60 finding it inconvenient to continue the trip east. This action, in itself, had not been serious, and Banning's excuse that his tangled business affairs had kept him from going to the convention had seemed a plausible explanation. However, in September, when he had pur chased Henry Hamilton's bankrupt Star, and had taken it to Wilming- j ton, he had begun to take steps which, in retrospect, had seemed a part of a deliberate design to take over control of the Union Party in Los Angeles County. Jonathan J. Warner had become editor of the new paper, the 61 . Wilmington Journal, and he had immediately made it Banning s I j mouthpiece in county politics. More than that, Warner had also acted as Banning's proxy in his struggle, with Conway and the Unionists of Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 270 Los Angeles City. Preliminary maneuvers for control had seen a fight develop over the county's delegation to the State Union | Convention that was held in the spring before the presidential | election. Two factions of Unionists had emerged, each claiaing to i i be the legal representatives of the county Union Party. Warner's i faction had picked up enough proxies to go to the convention in Sacramento and be recognized over William G. Still, leader of the 62 Conway wing of the party. Anyway, Warner knew his way around in I | political conventions, and had been able to Ingratiate himself without much difficulty. During its proceedings, the convention had named him to the State Central Committee, a position which he had used to further discomfort the Conway Unionists when he returned home to Los Angeles.^ Thus, the stage had been set for a continuing battle between the factions of Unionism in Los Angeles and Wilmington. The opening shots had been fired in the campaigns of 1864, but the struggle had continued into the following year. Both groups had claimed to be the ;:eal Union men of Los Angeles County, and had accused the other I ‘ of bciing the "bolters." With Banning's election as senator in 1865 64 (thau he might better lobby for his railroad) the struggle within the county had subsided. Discouraged, perhaps, at having lost his long fight with Banning, Charles Conway had not only quit the political arena, but he had retired from journalism as well. He sold his interests in the Los Angeles News, and prepared to leave the county. But, before he left— even before he had decided to quit his editor's chair— he had thrown in the towel and had admitted the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. J futility of continued struggle against Banning's forces at Wilmington: j "We can now leave to the Banning Journal the 'honor' of being the | 'organ' of the 'party' as that paper facetiously styles its wing. We shall remain independent hereafter." In a larger sense, Conway's plight, and the trouble that had i j begun to operate for the Unionists of Los Angeles County, had been typical of what had been happening to the party throughout the state. As Senator Conness had pointed out in a discussion of the difficulties that they had been experiencing since the end of the war, the Union- I ists had been falling apart as a consequence of the party's inherent weaknesses. The war had created the Union Party, but it had not been a party in the traditional political sense. It really had been only an organization of loyal men against disloyal men, and the issues of the war had bound them together. With the war over, the initiat ing reasons for the party were no longer vital, and the party had 66 been pulled apart by its own weight. Conway, himself, had recognized that these conditions had ! existed within the party, and, in his swan song to the Unionists of { Wilmington, he had been willing to concede that what Conness had said of the party in general had been equally true in Los Angeles County. But that the break-up of the party had beer, inevitable, Conway had not been willing to admit. It might well have continued, he had argued, except for the "ambitious and unscrupulous" men, like Banning, who had become "determined to rule the party for their own „67 purpose." Charles Conway had given up the fight, but when he had left Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 272 the city, he had as many brickbats thrown at him for having ruined the party in Los Angeles County as he had heaved at Banning and his ! friends in Wilmington. But, with his going, changes in the county's political climate began to develop so that relative peace had re turned to the scene. More importantly, other changes had become | evident, especially when the parties had begun to return to their traditional two-party molds. More dramatic, however, had been the shift that had occurred in political journalism. With Conway gone, | the Hews no longer was the defender of Unionism and loyalty as it had been, but the entire responsibility had shifted to the Wilmington Journal. Not Republican-Unionism, but Democratic-secessionism sat in the editor's chair at the Los Angeles News. j When Conway had sold his interest in the News, Andrew J. King, secessionist under-sheriff of Los Angeles County, had taken 68 over as owner and editor. Under his pen, the paper had undergone a major change in policy, and had been reshaped into as rabid a sheet as Henry Hamilton's Star had ever been. Some Democrats had been i willing to accept the verdict of the war, and, as a consequence, had I \ tempered their former animosities toward the Unionists. E. J. C. j Kewen, one of the most conspicuous of Los Angeles secessionist- Copperheads, had even gone so far as to advise that California Democrats ought to support an amendment to the state constitution 69 that would permit the colored people the right of suffrage. But King could not bring himself to make such a concession. Instead, he had continued to pour out his bitterness toward all Black Republican Abolitionists, keeping up the ancient struggle almost as if the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 273 conflict on the battlefields had never been fought. Yet, something of the old fervor had been missing, and personal bitterness had | finally run out. It had taken time to heal the deep hurts that the i war and the frustrations of Reconstruction politics had caused, but, as "Viejo" Warner had been able to report in December, 1868, Los Ange- I j | les had finally been able to make its peace with history. Writing to I j the Alta California in his usual role as correspondent from Los Ange- I i i les, he had note that I 9 j The political storm which Chad] spread over the continent and Chad]raged so furiously for some months past, and from which this place was not exempt, culminated on the 3rd inst. The political elements, which for some months were in such a turmoil as to I threaten the destruction of the social and political organization, have suddenly subsided . . . At this time the high-toned gentlemen of Virginia and South Carolina, with the fire-eaters of Texas and Mississippi, fraternally meet the Union men from all parts of the land, as well as the descendants of the (few England Puritans, and hand in hand are striving to advance the Interests and prosperity I of this city and county.'® I I Thus, a new era had opened for Los Angeles County. Not only i 1 was it seen in the end of fratricidal politics, that Warner had re- j ported, but in the new prosperity that the business community had begun to enjoy. More importantly, as improvements had begun to change the face of the community, a new spirit had seized hold of the popular mind. Evidence was reflected not only in the excitement that had greeted the arrival coaches for the Wilmington railroad 71 (October 26, 1868), but in the energetic way in which Los Angelenos were living each day. "A new vigor and perseverance" of purpose had begun to replace "the drowsiness and motionless state" which had typified the community of years past. The "war" in Los Angeles 72 was over, Warner had concluded. ‘ Peace had returned, and the Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 274 community had turned its £ace toward the future, eager and expectant for the opportunities that it would bring. I I I Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 275 NOTES ^Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America, ed. by Richard D. Hefner (New York, 1956), p. 205. 2 S Robert H. Johannsen, "Stephen A. Douglas and the South," Journal of Southern History, XXXIII, (Feb., 1967), 26-50. Hereafter cited as Johannsen, "Douglas." O Instead of offering him a post in Washington, Lincoln had asked Douglas to go home to Illinois and help build support for the administration there. Before he had died, Douglas had done this, making strong appeals to all factions to rally behind Lincoln. See the Semi-Weekly Southern News, June 5, 1861, for an excerpt of his speech before the Illinois legislature and how it was used to argue non-partisanship in California. Cf. Randall and David, Civil War and Reconstruction (Boston, 1961), p. 179; Lord Charnwood. Abraham Lincoln (Garden City, N.Y., 1917), p. 231. I # Johannsen, "Douglas," p. 48. Randall and David, Civil War and Reconstruction, pp. 165- 166. ^Quoted by the Semi-Weekly Southern News, June 18, 1862, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 22, Item 14. ^Unidentified clippings, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 22, Item 3. Cf. Davis, Political Conventions in California, pp. 180, ! 182. i Q David D. Colton, Chairman of the Union Democratic State Committee, in a letter to Senator W. Van Dyke, had summarized the reasons for protesting any fusion with the Republicans: maintain party integrity. Davis, Political Conventions in California, pp. 183-184. 1 Q Semi-Weekly Southern News, August 2, 1861; Los Angeles Star, August 10, 18bl, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, Item 21. *®Rice, The Los Angeles Star, pp. 276ff. ^Wilmington Journal, September 2, 1865. *^Los Angeles Star, n.d. [proceedings of meeting, July 8, 1861 in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 22, Item 20. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 276 13 Rice, Los Angeles Star, pp. 342-350, gives a succinct evaluation of the two editors. 14 j Los Angeles Star. August 3, 10, 24, 1861, in Hayes' I Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, Unnumbered Items. I 15 Los Angeles Star. July 13, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, ! Vol. 48, Item 13. ! 16 | Los Angeles Star. September 7, 1861, in ibid., Vol. 50, Part 1, Item 221. | 17 j Semi-Weekly Southern News. September 6, 1861. 1 18 | Alta California. September 5, 1861; San Francisco Bulletin, ! n.d., in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 19, Items 224 and 225; Sacramento j Weekly Union, September 7, 1861; Marysville Appeal, September 6, 1861, i in Hayes* Scrapbook, Vol. 48, Item 124. I 19 The official tally was: Stanford, 56,036; Conness, 30,944; McConnell, 32,751. Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 180. 20 California Blue nook, pp. 659-660; Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 180. 21 Semi-Weekly Southern News. September 6, 1861, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, Item 124. 22 Address signed by Ezra Drown, J. J. Warner, and James Mohan. It may have been published in the Semi-Weekly Southern News, but the print differs from its usual type. In Hayes Scrapbooks, Vol. 48, near Item 22. 23 Semi-Weekly Southern News, October 2, 1862; Los Angeles News, July 16, 1864. 24 Los Angeles Star, May 10, 1862, in Hayes' Scrapbooks, Vol. 50, Part II, Item 305. 25 Statues of California (Sacramento, 1863), p. 755; Los Angeles News, September 6, 1863. 26 Rice, Los Angeles Star, pp. 242-250, had summarized the debate between the two editors. 27 "Viejo"£ Warner ^to Alta California, September 23, 1863. 28 Hayes to John Brown, June 10, 1863, John Brown Jr., Diaries. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 277 29 Charles E. Huse, a prominent lawyer of Santa Barbara had sent Hayes a copy of "the original proceedings of the Union conven tion of that county— all against de la Guerra." Hayes to John Brown, September 13, [1863], John Brown, Jr., Diaries. ^J. J. Warner's report to the Alta California, November 21, 1863, based upon the county clerk's official returns, as reported in the Los Angeles Star, November 14, 1863. 01 I j Hayes, Pioneer Notes, pp. 188-189. j 32 I A typical description of election procedures, fraud, etc., j was given by the Los Angeles Star, n.d., in Hayes' Scrapbook, Vol. 17, Item 47. Parallel conditions were reported in neighboring Santa Barbara County in the affidavit of Charles Dennis, Savage Documents, Bancroft Library. Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, pp. 41-42, gave supporting testimony and suggested the importance of the registry law which was passed in March, 1866. I j ^Hayes, Pioneer Notes, pp. 188-189, ! 34 Worried about Copperhead fraud, J. T. Hoyt, Sec. Union State Central Committee, had written to John Brown that San Bernardino County would be one of the places where frauds would be j attempted. J. T. Hoyt to John Brown, August 10, 1863, John Brown, j Jr., Diaries. | oc Alta California, October 3, 1863. In other articles, Warner had related Hayes' defeat to the native vote which had equated all California Democrats with Southern secessionist sympathies toward Maxmillian in Mexico. Ibid., August 2, 25; October 8, 15, 1863. 36 Another factor had been Hayes' constant absence from I court due to drunkenness, causing an abnormal backlog of legal business. Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, pp. 46-47. He had in-law trouble also; that had not helped him in the election. Witness J. S. Griffin'8 letter to B. D. Wilson, July 29 C 1863?], Wilson Papers: "Hayes is no especial friend of mine, but as a matter of course 1 cannot aid or assist in his defeat. I owe that to my wife— and of course acknowledge the obligation." 1 37 Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 191. ^®John Swett (Union People's Party), 51,238; J. D. Stevenson | (Union Democrat), 21,514; 0. F. Fitzgerald (Breckinridge Democrat), j 15,817. Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 191. 30 Davis, Political Conventions in California, p. 199. ^Bancroft Scraps, Vol. 60, pp. 36, 39. Cf. Davis, Political Conventions in California, pp. 180, 201. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 278 41 Wilmington Journal, May 2, 1865. 42 Ibid., May 6, 1865. 43 Conway's election postmortem, Los Angeles News, November 12, 1864. 44 Ibid., September 17, 1864. 45 Ibid., October 1, 1864. 46 Ibid., October 29, 1864. 47 Ibid., November 19, 1864. • 48 Ibid. 49 Krythe, Banning, p. 132. 50 Los Angeles News, August 15, 1865. ' ’^Banning's efforts during the campaign had worried his Copperhead friends so much that Griffin had written to B. D. Wilson that "Banning I think has taken a little advantage of us in his barbecue, he will use your wine and Keller's to defeat us if he can— I hope it will make them so drunk that they cannot get to the polls on election day— or that it being Copperhead wine may convert them to the true faith." J. S. Griffin to B. D. Wilson, October 27, [1864] , Wilson Papers. 52 "Viudex" to the Los Angeles News, December 3, 1864. In the light of Conway's later editorials one may suspect that he was also "Viudex." 53 Hayes, Sketch of Los Angeles, p. 101. Cf. H. D. Barrows, "Memorial Sketch of Col. J. J. Warner," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, III (1895), 26. 54 Both Conway's News and the Wilmington Journal frequently wrote on this theme. For a typical story see Los Angeles Newa, January 15, 1865. ^Bill of March 17, 1861: "If such railroad company shall not within one year after the passage of this act petition the said Mayor and Common Council and the Board of Supervisors of Los Angeles for the subscription contemplated for the act [City: $50,000 in stock; County: $100,000in stock] then this act shall be null and void, and have no affect." Los Angeles News, Dec. 3, 1864. J. S. Griffin to B. D. Wilson, October 27 [1864 ], Wilson Papers. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 279 57 Banning's friendship with Los Angeles secessionists goes almost without saying. Partners with Wilson on the Drum Barracks project and involved with him and others in mutual projects around the town, he was also close enough personally to name one son John Griffin and another Joseph Lancaster Brent. Krythe, Banning. 77, 11. Then, as he had organized the Los Angeles-San Pedro Railroad Con?)any and the Pioneer Oil Company, Banning had continued this close personal, business relationship. Articles of Incorparation, Pioneer Oil Co., in Johnston-Griffin Collection; Los Angeles News, January 31, 1865; Wilmington Journal, June 17, 1865; Richard W. Barsness, "Los Angeles' Quest for Improved Transportation, 1846-1861," California Historical Society Quarterly, XLVI (Dec.,1967), 291-306. 58 Officers of the company were Phineas Banning, president (2900 out of 5000 shares); J. G. Downey, J. S. Griffin, B. D. Wilson, 0. W. Childs, Mathew Keller, board of directors; E. E. Hewitt, superintendent. Krythe, Banning, pp. 161ff, has summarized its organization and efforts to obtain legislative sanctions and subsidies. 59 Los Angeles News, April 25, 1864. 60 Ibid., May 12, 1864. 61 Ibid., September 29, 1864. How long Warner edited the Jour nal is not apparent from present research. In April, 1865, William M. Cuberly was hired as the "new editor" to replace the "late editor," Mr. William Smith. Ibid., April 15, 1865. 62 An added fillup to the struggle had been Still's arrest by H. D. Barrows on trumped up charges that he had stolen $800 in green backs missing from a shipment that had passed through the Los Angeles postoffice. Conway attributed the arrest to an attempt by Warner to prevent Still from going to the convention. Ibid., August 25, 27; September 6, 1864. 63 Ibid., September 16, 1865. 64 Newnark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 353. 65 Los Angeles News, September 16, 1865. 66 Wilmington Journal, June 17, 1865. 67 Los Angeles News, September 16, 1865. 68 Wilmington Journal, November 18, 1865; Los Angeles News, November 24, 1865. 69 Los Angeles News, June 24, 1865. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 280 70 Alta California, December 3, 1868. 71 Hayes, Sketch of Los Angeles, p. 102, 72 Alta California, December 3, 1868. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER IX EPILOGUE One summer morning in 1865, while in Wilmington attending to his transportation business, John H. Griffith had chanced to be at the wharf when a lighter load of passengers had disembarked from the incoming steamer. Ordinarily, Griffith would not have given such a group more than a casual glance and would have passed over them as just another inmigrant group seeking transportation for their continued journey to Los Angeles. However, one particular passenger stood out in the group, despite his travel-stained, disheveled appearance. It was Cameron Thom, former Los Angeles lawyer and re cently an officer in the Confederate Army, returned to the county at the end of the war. Griffith, recognizing him, had rushed up to Thom, seized his hand, and fairly bowled him over with the force of his blunt welcome. "Well, you dirty old rebel! You are back here now, and if l t a u k ik h n«»A «i a <i i *O o 1 P 1 U a m a w a i i ^ ^ IV W H > V » IW T V 9 w v W A A A 1 I V W I I Q Ug J T V W # Then, thrusting his hand into his pocket, he had brought out some $300 in gold and pushed it into Thom's hands. Now, he had said, "Go and get your hair cut, and get some clean clothes, and look decent."* Such a rude greeting would have been a shock to any returning secessionist, leary of £he welcome that he might receive from his 281 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. acquaintances who had remained loyal to the government. But Thom had j known that Griffith was really his friend despite the differences that the war had brought between them. He knew Griffith's rough way was I just an effort to hide the gentle raillery that was really intended. i I So Thom had taken the money, and the advice, and made his way i j | back to the beautiful home that he had at what is now Third and Main I ! Streets. Subsequently, he had resumed his former law practice, be- | came active in local politics, and a continuing member of the Los 1 2 | Angeles community through his ninetieth year, dying in 1915. This, quickly told, is the story of one Los Angeles secession- I 1st who had gone East to fight for the Confederacy. His return, and ! successful adjustment to the Federal victory, could have been an j | example for others to have followed. Unfortunately, some of them | could not, either because they had fallen, like Albert Sidney 3 Johnston, on the field of battle, or, unrepentant and unreconstruc ted, they had hied themselves off to Mexico— refusing to accept the decision at Appomattox; refusing to return home in defeat. Alonzo Ridley, former under-sheriff and escort to General ! ; Johnston across the Arizona desert, had been one of these. Follow ing the battle of Shiloh, his company had been reassigned and had fought out the war in another army. But, when the Confederacy had collapsed, and peace would have allowed him to return to California, Ridley had followed Dan Showalter, Judge Terry and other die-hard secessionists into Mexico tfiere he had joined the Imperial forces of Maxmillian in their struggle against Juarez. Appointed an agent for immigration at the port town of Mazatlan, he had written earnest with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 283 letters to his friends In Los Angeles, urging them to take up the "liberal offers" of desirable land that the French were offering. I 4 | B. D. Wilson had received such a letter, and, if conditions had I been more suitable, he might have moved from Los Angeles into Mex ico.5 But Ridley had not restricted himself to private corres pondence, but had written broadside to the Los Angeles community. I j Even Charles Conway of the News had received notices of Ridley's i project, especially in the form of extensive circulars which had ! 6 extolled the opportunities for settlement in French Mexico. | However, the events of history had gone against French colonization schemes as they had ended the dreams of Maxmillian and Carlotta in Mexico. Ridley, too, had suffered the fate of misplaced loyalties. Leaving his interests at Mazatlan, he had joined the Imperial forces as a captain, and, "for gallant and meritous ser vice," was soon promoted to a colonel. Caught up in the force of battle, he had fallen a casualty near the city of Cuadalajara when the Imperials had been repulsed by the Liberals, in January, 1866.^ So, instead of coming home, Ridley had gone into Mexico to i | die in a distant land and in a foreign war. But he had not been the | only Los Angeles rebel who had decided not to return to Southern California. Ridley had known that, and, before his death, he had | wondered about them. So, when he had written to B. D. Wilson about real estate in Mexico, he had enquired about them; particularly "what has become of Genl. Brent." Others in the county had been wondering about the whereabouts of J, Lancaster Brent. Early in the war, when he had first left Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. California in the company of Senator William Gwin, news had leaked 9 back to Los Angeles that the two of them had been arrested. Sub- | sequent reports had listed him as dead, a casualty of the war. But he was very much alive despite the bloody conflicts that had raged ! around him. Late in August, 1864, he was in Louisiana, a colonel of l 10 ; ordnance on the staff of General Kirby Smith. Later, commissioned i | a brigadier-general, he had been given his own command, and had ! 11 j continued to operate in Louisiana until the end of the war. ; When he had left the army, and had gotten his personal affairs in better order, Brent had thought seriously of returning to Los Angeles. His pre-war business connections, and his many friends there, had been a natural encouragement for him to do so. Never- i theless, he had never come back. For a few years, family affairs i | had held him in Baltimore, where he had tried to salvage what he could out of the family fortunes. Like all other Confederates, he had had to go the tortuous way of amnesty and reconstruction and had j found it necessary to call upon his California friends to intervene j for him. This they had been more than glad to do. Phineas Banning i was in the senate at Sacramento at the time, with easy entree to the governor's mansion. What Banning said or what he had done to get help from the governor need not have been very much, for Brent was well known, and well liked by the inner circle of government i in California. Thus, a letter from Governor Low to President Andrew Johnson "in regard to Mr. Brent" was easily obtained, and the j former Confederate general had been moved along in his personal l 12 i reconstruction. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 285 Subsequently, Brent had been able to resume his law practice In Baltimore. At the same time, he continued his legal advice to | j B. D. Wilson, even though they had been a continent apart. They corresponded frequently, not only inquiring after each other's health and family fortunes, but had discussed the sale of Brent's Los Angeles properties as well as the estate interests that Mrs. Wilson I had inherited in St. Louis. Besides Wilson, other Los Angeles friends had heard from Brent, especially members of the Californio community with whom he had been on such good terms before the war. The Yndarts, the Sepul- vedas, and the Del Valles all had kept up a round robin correspondence | either to, from, or about their companero with whom they had had such good fellowship in the past. Sometimes they could share personal experiences like Ygnacio Sepulveda's visit with Brent in Baltimore 14 in the spring of 1868. More often, however, it had been from mutual I correspondence that they had learned of their friend and his activi ties in the East. A typical letter was one of February 27, 1868 to Ygnacio del Valle wherein Brent had written of his experiences since | the closing of the war. He told them briefly of his family in Baltimore, then had described his trip to Europe— through England, France, Italy, Germany and the Lowlands. However, most of the letter had been about the deplorable conditions under which the South had been laboring. He had seemed especially concerned about the plight of his parents in Louisiana where conditions had been so miserable in the early reconstruction days.^ Therefore, it was not strange that he had eventually moved to New Orleans. There Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 286 he had married, opened his legal practice, and moved into the best circles of the community. He soon had become active politically, | had done well as was his natural bent. Elected to the legislature, I j he had become a prominent member of that body, just as he had done 16 in California. During a visit to New Orleans to attend the American Ex position, Henry Newmark had called on Brent. During the several hours they were together, they had talked about their former exper- 17 lences in Los Angeles. Brent had spoken warmly of his friends in California, and had wished to be remembered by them. Though he had still been drawn to his former associations on the Pacific Coast, he felt, as he had expressed himself when writing to Benjamin Wilson, 18 that duty to his family required him to stay in Louisiana. Besides Ridley, Johnston, Thom and Brent, other Los Angeles militants had gone East, and, after the war, many may have returned 19 to California. But, all of those who had been convinced that the Confederates had been justified in secession had not resorted to arms, nor had they crossed the "Rubicon" at Yuma to become per- j sonally committed to the Lost Cause. Yet, whether they had stayed in Los Angeles, or, like Henry Hamilton, had gone only into neigh boring Arizona, they--like their fellow secessionists who had seen battle--had had to "come home" to Los Angeles as it was after the guns had ceased their firing. The story of their "reconstruction" is not yet fully read, nor may it ever be. But, in the briefly told experiences of the two secessionists editors, Henry Hamilton and Andrew J. King, as well as in the expressed attitudes of Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 287 Benjamin D. Wilson and Dr. John S. Griffin, one may sense the change, i or lack of change, that had governed these "rebels" during the time j of postwar adjustment in Los Angeles County. I ; In 1864, after Hamilton had sold his printing equipment and | j stock to Phineas Banning, he had gone over into the Arizona Territory I j and settled at Tucson. Soon he had gotten into local politics, and 20 stood as the Democratic candidate for recorder of Pima County. i How long he had stayed in Arizona is not clear from the record; only | that he showed up again in Southern California in November, 1866. Arriving at San Pedro on the steamer Orizaba from San Francisco, he had with him a printing press and stock to start a newspaper. He spent a few days in his old home in San Gabriel, then had left town j for neighboring San Bernatdino. There he had set up shop and begun to edit and publish the San Bernardino Guardian. Its first issue was received in Los Angeles on February 28, 1867, and was welcomed enthusiastically by his friend, Andrew J. King, at the Los Angeles News. Within the year, however, Hamilton had wearied of his new venture, longing, perhaps, for his former associations in Los | Angeles. Consequently, he sold his interest in the Guardian to i F. G. J. Margotson and Sidney P. Waite, and had returned to his 21 San Gabriel orange orchard on the outskirts of Los Angeles. On March 16, 1868, Hamilton had taken up his old love, the 22 revived Los Angeles Star. However, in this return to county journalism, it had been, for Hamilton, more of a resurrection— a new birth— than a simple revival. He was still the red-headed Irishman, but his Star was not the same as it had been when he had given it up Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 288 four years before. Just as his Guardian had struggled to be neutral 23 ("we are not nor do we Intend to be the mouthpiece of any party") ! so his new Star had been less militant than it had been in former days. | I "Hamilton's old-time vigor was immediately recognized," Harris Newmark 1 had noted about his editorial style, "but not his former disposition 24 ; to attack and criticize." While Andrew J. King, the self-proclaim- i | led secessionist, had filled his columns in the Hews with vituperation I 2S J against abolition, Hamilton had been content to editorialize about i j "The Land We Love." The South had a glorious history and could be i grateful for its leaders, Hamilton had reasoned with his readers. | But the war was over and the proper course for "loyal" Southerners < to take was the path of tractable acceptance of the Union victory. Rather than continued argument to justify the war and to defend i secession, all Southerners would do well to follow the example of ' General M. Jefferson Thompson, of Louisville, Kentucky, In a long I letter to Hamilton, which he had reproduced in part and editorialized ! upon in length, Thompson had advised: The proper policy for the victors to pursue is not in my province to discuss, neither have I the right to complain nor will I presume to advise. I can simply set my soldiers an ex ample of patience, industry and enterprise— to build up our broken fortunes and make the land bloom again in peace, con fidence, and plenty; therefore I will accept all courtesies and favors the law may grant me, and not let my individual likes and dislikes interfere with my duty to |jie country in which my children at least have an interest, Hamilton had been able to take this kind of advice as his i guide in postwar America, but other Los Angeles secessionists could I I not. Their sense of frustration had been too great when the South I j had been defeated, particularly when Reconstruction reforms had L__________________________________________ ________ Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 289 hit at the heart of its peculiar institution. Certainly editor King had not been able to do it, and his rabid attacks on the policies that were coming out of Washington and Sacramento had given ample evidence of his "unreconstructed" mind. He could have never made i 'the statement that E. J. C. Kewen had made— to urge an amendment to the state constitution that would admit that colored men were people, 27 |and as citizens, should be given the right to vote. To King that isuggestion was like the whole gamut of abolitionist amendments that 'had been raising that inferior race to such heights as to make 28 government in the United States a cruel mockery of democracy. iRepeatedly, King had asked who had allowed this sad condition to i develop in the country. Then, in answer to his own question, he would say "The Democrats themselves were to blame." While the New England Puritan-Abolitionists, from Garrison to Weld, had been going about the country, educating the youth of America from rostrum, pulpit, and school house— teaching them "the heresies of a God and Union hating[ Republican] party," the Democrats had been "slumbering in that ease which is the natural result of uprightness of character 29 and abiding confidence in the righteousness of their cause." Then, in a call that he had echoed throughout his continuing battle with Radical Reconstructionism, King had declared: We speak ... in the name of six million brave, gallant, and chivalrous people who have sacrificed fortune, ease, home, and the lives of the flower of their young men in support of a principle that should be dear to the heart of every American ... We ask all who would not wish to see the Union perpetually destroyed, and a people who have covered themselves with glory by deeds of valor and unheard of sacrifice, kept out of their rights, treated as enemies, humiliated, misrepresented and outraged bv a fanatical party of usurpers, to lend their influence . . . Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 290 King's impassioned appeal to ethnic loyalties undoubtedly raised aympathetic chords among the voices of chivalry in Los i Angeles County. Even Hamilton, while still clinging to his early resolves to remain silent and neutral, had not been able to resist the opportunity to castigate Thad Stevens, that "great heresiarch 31 whose word is law and gospel to all radicalism." However, he, and most of the Los Angeles secessionists, had been able to control their feelings— distraught though they might have been about the turn of events— and had conducted themselves in a more circumspect manner. i I Yet, deeply committed as King had been to the cause of the South, they must have had some trying moments as they had found it necessary to reconcile their lost dreams with the realities of de feat. Benito Wilson and his close friend, Dr. John S. Griffin, were two who had had an unusually difficult time, personally, when they finally had to admit that Lee's surrender had sealed Confederate hopes forever. Benjamin D. Wilson, though deeply involved with Banning I as a supplier to Carleton and the California Column, had always 1 32 | evidenced his sympathy for the Confederacy. Not only had he remained loyal to his secessionist friends in Los Angeles County, but he had kept up his connections with his family in the South. Moreover, as the war had progressed, he had become more outspokenly critical of the abolitionist North for violating all that he had held so dear. Such attitudes could not help but become generally known, and, as a consequence, Wilson had found it increasingly difficult to get along— even in business--with those who differed Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. I 291 j with his opinion. Thus it was, in 1863, when he had felt that he had been discriminated against by a "Black Republican" in the San Francisco firm of Hobbs, Gilmore and Company. Immediately, he had cut his connections with the firm and would do no more business with them. Such experiences had made him bitterly angry each time they had happened. But, as the last year of the war had brought j news that was so damning to secessionists hopes in the South, his I j bitterness had given way to despair. By 1864, he had become so J ! despondent about the continuing trend of Confederate defeats that he had seriously thought of giving up his property in Los Angeles County and moving south to Sinaloa, Mexico. He had not gone, but, in staying, the decision had not improved his state of mind. He had walked around like a man in a daze, hardly able to do his daily business chores, so heavy had been the weight of the awful events that the war news had been reporting. Then, when the cryptic announcement from Virginia had finally confirmed the worst that he j 1 had begun to fear, the import of that event had become a personal I j burden which had been almost more than Wilson could carry. So downcast and despondent had he been, so "doleful" had been his appearance, that his family had begun to be seriously worried about him. Sue Wilson, away from Lake Vineyard on a visit to Oakland, had written a spritely letter to her father, and had tried to cheer him up with news of family friends. "Mrs.tZ Albert Sidney 3 Johnston is looking very well, and so are the children. She has rented a small house in San Francisco." However, when she had started to tell Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 292 of another friend, a "General Addison," Sue, herself, had slipped into the general melancholy that had begun to weigh down so many of | the California secessionists: "I do not know father what we are going to do the news is not at all favorable to us and everyone 34 looks downhearted." i : While Wilson had been having his difficulties coming to grips i with history, Dr. John S. Griffin, too, had been watching those same | events in Virginia. Like Wilson, he had been uneasy about the way ! j things had been going for the South, especially during those anxious i days as Lee's troops had played out their strength before Appomattox. When Grant and Lee had finally met that fateful 10th day of April, 1865, and the sound of arms being stacked had signaled the end of the war, Grant had said simply, but hopefully, "Let us have peace." But for Griffin, out in Los Angeles, there had been no real empathy for Grant's hope, nor had there been any reconciliation, within himself, with the facts of defeat. He had gone about his daily tasks, giving medical aid and comfort to the sick and the lame, but his heart had been heavy with grief and disappointment. How S deeply he had been hurt, how heavy had been the weight upon his i heart, was revealed with all of its pathetic overtones the day that the news of President Lincoln's assasination had come to Los Angeles. Harris Newmark, with whom Griffin had been visiting at the moment that they both heard the news, told what had happened. On the fifteenth of April, my family physician, Dr. John S. Griffin, paid a professional visit to my home on Main Street which might have ended disasterously for him. While we were seated together by an open window in the dining room, a man named Kane ran by on the street, shouting out the momentous Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 293 news that Abraham Lincoln had been shot! Griffin, who was a staunch Southerner, was on his feet instantly, cheering for Jeff Davis. He gave evidence, indeed, of great excitement, and | soon seized his hat and rushed for the door, hurrahing for the j Confederacy. In a flash, I realized that Griffin would be in awful jeopardy if he reached the street in that unbalanced con dition, and by main force I held him back, convincing him at last of his folly.35 Griffin recovered from his outburst and had been able to leave Newmark with his emotions under control. He never gave way in such a manner again, and had lived through the trying days of readjustment in peace. Yet, with it all, whether as a physician and medical officer at the time, or, in later years while he entrepre- neured with Banning's Pioneer Gil Company and as a real estate developer in East Los Angeles and Pasadena, he had never really gotten over his bitterness toward the North. Generally, he had continued to control his speech, despite any provocation. However, in rare instan ces, he would let slip the true state of his mind, revealing himself for what he still had been— an unrepentant, unreconstructed Southern Secessionist. Such a circumstance occurred one day in the early 1870s when j he and Benjamin D. Wilson had concluded arrangements to open a i portion of San Pasqual Rancho in what is now Pasadena. After I strenuous efforts, they had succeeded in bringing water cut of the Arroyo Seco, and had started to sell off home and farm sites to immigrants from the East. The heart of the first sales had gone to the "Hoosier Colony," a group of Indiana men headed by Dr. Thomas B, Elliott, D. Mo Berry and J. H. Baker of Indianapolis. After the sale had been consummated, Dr. Griffin had been heard to comment Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 294 about the transaction, "This is once where I got the best of those 36 damned Yankees," Price: $7.50 an acre. I The full impact of Griffin's bitter remark, and its latent ! irony, could not have been appreciated by his hearers; only by a later generation that had seen how promoters and land booms had i worked their inflated effects on Pasadena's real estate values. Yet, in another decade, time and fate was to yield still more sad ironies before the good doctor had finished his work on earth. i Sometime in the early 1880s, among the many who had come to | Pasadena seeking opportunity on the lands that Griffin and Wilson had ! opened up, there had come three members of the Harper's Ferry John i , Brown family— Owen, Jason, and their sister, Ruth Brown, married I | Ol then to a man named Thompson. The Thompson's had settled in town, i | | but Jason and his brother had built a hut up in the hills overlooking the settlement. Here they had lived for several years, raising fruit and vegetables to supply themselves the few simple wants that their I ; hermit's life had demanded. Owen died on January 8, 1889, and was buried near the cabin on what is now called Brown's Peak. His sister, Ruth, stayed on in Pasadena, but Jason soon after had abandoned his homestead and had returned to Ohio where he had died, December 24, 1912.®® The irony of all of these happenings, distant in time and : space from the events of Civil War America, was that John Brown's "body"-.in the form of three of his children—.should have come to dwell in John Griffin's Pasadena. Then, if that had not been hard enough a blow to this unforgiving Southerner, the last rites and Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 295 eulogies performed for Owen Brown could not have been more cruelly delivered, nor more bitterly received by such as Griffin and Wilson, ! except that John Brown, instead of his son, had been on the scene. On January 29, 1898, just eighteen months before Dr. Griffin, 39 himself was to die, a crowd of nearly three hundred people had ! gathered in Pasadena and proceeded up Brown's Trail to the cabin site near the top of the peak. The occasion was the erection of a monument to Owen Brown, a stone prepared by Major Horatio N. Rust, j a Pasadena horticulturist and long-time friend of Owen and the j Brown family since their Hew England days. ! During the program, several Pasadenans had spoken of their acquaintance with Owen and Jason, and of the kind regard that they i felt toward them. The Reverend Clarence True Wilson had been particularly grateful for their support of the local reform efforts in favor of prohibition. The most significant remarks, particularly for their connective references to the early abolitionist efforts by the Brown's in New England, had been the dedicatory oration delivered I by Major Rust. Owen may have been the inspiration for this program, i but, in the larger sense, it had been his father, Ossawatomie Brown, I who had really been eulogized that day on Brown's Peak. This had been the theme of Rust's remarks, and all that he had said had been ! to emphasize the importance of work performed by that self-appointed 40 missionary to free the slaves. Here, then, in this tribute, climaxed as it had been by the singing of "Marching Through Georgis," there had been composed an ironic ode to the Lost Cause of Southern chivalry. Delivered by Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 296 Unionists in vhat had been a stronghold of Confederate sympathizers, l ! it had commemorated the life and work of the one man, above all : others, who had become the symbol of all that the phrase Black ! Republicanism had suggested. Yet, as the stone to Owen Brown had j I been put in its place at the head of his grave, all that had been i read, said, and sung had become— by the strange quirk that fate i I can sometimes work— a fitting epitaph for the buried hopes that Los Angeles secessionists had dreamed. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 297 NOTES j Jackson A. Graves, My Seventy Years in California (Los Angeles, 1927), pp. 122-123. 2 Ibid. 3 Apparently, Antonio Manuel Varela who had served In Ridley's Company under Johnston, was also at Shiloh. A receipt given to Ysabel Varela del Valle shows that funds were given to keep a candle burning for him in the Plaza Church, Los Angeles. Del Valle Collection. ^ 4 i Alonzo Ridley to B. D. Wilson, December 15, 1865, Wilson j Papers. 5 In 1864, Wilson had given serious thought to moving to Sinaloa. Cotton and the trend of Union victories had been the impetus. John W. Caughey, "Don Benito Wilson: An Average Southern Californian," The Huntington Library Quarterly, II (April, 1939), 285-300. 6 Los Angeles News, April 3, 1865. ^Ibid., February 5, 1867. 8 Alonzo Ridley to B. D. Wilson, December 15, 1865, Wilson Papers. 9 Judge Hayes to Judge John Brown, September 22, 1861, in Hayes, Pioneer Notes, p. 259. When Harris Newmark saw Brent in Louisiana after the war, Brent had confirmed the facts of his arrest. Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 295. Cf. Brent, Memoirs, pp. 61-70. 10 Los Angeles News, March 4, 1865. Some indication of his military activities is available in War of the Rebellion, Series I, Vol. 48, Parts I & II, passim. The most concise and complete coverage, of course, is his own Memoirs Of The War Between The States. 12 "P.B." to B. D. Wilson, December 14, 1865, Wilson Papers. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 298 | Apparently, part of the inheritance in St. Louis had arisen I out of the Sublette estate. At least, as letters from William E. ! Boardman and Brent attest, the Wilsons had had a personal interest in what the court decided. For example, on February 4, 1863, Board man had begun a series of reports to Wilson on the Sublette court ! case. He ventured the opinion that a pending decision would show that "the entire estate belongs to the Hereford's C Mrs. Wilson's | family3. Subsequently, Boardman and Brent had made a trip to St. ! Louis to investigate the Wilson properties, and to advise of their i worth. Brent to Wilson, May 28, 1866, Wilson Papers. 14 Ygnacio Sepulveda to Ygnaclo del Valle, June 8, 1868, Del Valle Collection. Other items pertaining to Brent's personal and business interests in Los Angeles are also available in the Del Valle Collection. ! 1 5 | J. L. Brent to Ygnacio del Valle, February 27, 1868, Del Valle Collection. j *^H. D. Barrows, "J. Lancaster Brent." 17 No date was given, but the Exposition of 1885/86 seems most likely. Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 295. lO J. L. Brent to B. D. Wilson, June 17, 1868, Wilson Papers. 19 Charles Meyers Jenkins, city zanjero (canal boss) and Horace Bell were the only Union men who had gone East to fight with the Federal forces. Both returned to Los Angeles after the war. Jenkins engaged in twenty battles and spent fifteen months in Andersonville and Libby prisons. Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 295. Bell, a nephew to Alexander Bell, had joined McClellan's army and campaigned as a scout in West Virginia. Horace Bell, "Politics in Los Angeles," Dictation, Bancroft Collection. Of the two, Bell left the most verbose record. His "Reminiscences" I are interesting reading, but his exaggerations are no more en lightening than an afternoon at the nickelodeon. 20 Arizona Miner, August 9, 1865, as quoted in the Los Angeles News, August 19, 1865. 21 Wilmington Journal, November 17, December 29, 1866; February 28, 1867; Los Angeles News, February 22, 1867; San Bernardino Guardian, July 6, 1867, March 7, 1868; E. P. R. Crafts, Pioneer Days in the San Bernardino Valley (Redlands, 1906), p. 103. ^Los Angeles Star, March 16, 1868. 23 San Bernardino Guardian, July 27, 1867. 24 Neweark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 371. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 299 25 King had stated his position on November 24, 1865, when he had replied to the Wilmington Journal— "we have been and are yet secessionist"--and he had continued the same theme throughout the next two years. Los Angeles News, passim. 26 San Bernardino Guardian, August 10, 1867. Though stated as a policy for the Guardian, it had remained a continuing guide for his editorials until the "impeachment fever" had arisen in Washington. Then, Hamilton had given more space to the topic and had begun to express his opinions in stronger language. For an example, see the Los Angeles Star, February 29, 1867. 27 Los Angeles News, June 24, 1865. OO Ibid., January 25, 1867. ^ Ibid., November 2, 1866. ! 3^Ibid. , December 25, 1866. ! 31 San Bernardino Guardian, December 21, 1867. ^Caughey, "Wilson," p. 290. 3^Sue Wilson to B. D. Wilson, May 5, 1865, Wilson Papers. 35 Newmark, Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 337. 36Boyle Workman, The City That Grew (Los Angeles, 1935), p. 166, 37 I Except where footnoted separately, this account on the | Browns depends upon material in the Horatio N. Rust Papers, ' Huntington Library. 38 Saratoga Historical Foundation, After Harper’s Ferry. ; John Brown's Widow— his family and the Saratoga Years (Saratoga, | Calif., 1964), p. 26n. j Griffin died in Los Angeles, August 23, 1899. Newmark, j Sixty Years in Southern California, p. 617. ^At the request of Professor Beardsley of Beloit College, Major Rust wrote a sketch of his relationships with Brown, telling how he had aided in securing money, pistols, and pikes for his venture into Harper's Ferry. During a visit with Brown in prison, Rust had ! promised Brown that "we would care for the family;" hence his contin ued interest in Owen and Jason. During his lifetime, Rust collected a mass of Brown material, the bulk of which he transferred to Beloit College. H. N. Rust to Prof. Beardsley, May 24, 1894, Rust Papers. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. A P P E N D I X I 300 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. INYO V . N * " ' MMMITOF »ST RANlI /ENTURA 1 S A N T A C A T A L IN A SAN CLCMENTt % V SAN BERNARDINO 1653 \ I B S i . --" S A N DIE.GO I j l f V AREAS I6BO - « M O 80.Ml. 1681 -34810 " • 1683 - 6 0 8 0 * " 1660 - 4 9 0 0 » ” 1672 - 5 2 1 0 " » 1669 - *0 6 3 .2 1 " "(TO DATE) U kCAkC MIUCS COMPOSITE MAP BOUNDARIES OF THE COUNTY OF LOS ANGELES 1850 1851 1853 1866 1872 1889 ALFRED J0NE3 COUNTY SURVEYOR MAY 1936 301 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. A P P E N D I X II 302 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission H U O lftS L A K £ ’ * «JtVHAR*TH < 9 T A N * pivCP R A N C H O 3A N FRANCISCO C , ^ 3IMI (0 5 IM IP K -) > < + r - • * r - t v * itrtr • i1 r v ' \.v . . * « n . S U M M IT OP 'SANTA SU3ANA MTS RANCHO LAS VIROENES ^ (TR U M FO ) TRIUNEO CRK RIVERSIDE — LAKE ELSINORE ! SAN TA C A T A LIN A v ^ lS L A N D NOTE T H E S E '3 . / . N 0 3 N O T C \ S A N C L E M E N T E \ \ IS L A N D BOUNDARIES OF THE COUNTY OF LOS ANGELES 1850 ALFREDJONES COUNTYSURVEYOR MAY 1958 303 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. I i B I B L I O G R A P H Y 304 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. BIBLIOGRAPHY Public Documents and Reports | California Blue Book or State Roster, 1909. Sacramento: State Print- | ing Office, 1909. California. Journal of the Proceedings of the Assembly. Third Session. | San Francisco: G. K. Fitch & Co., V. E. Giger & Co., State Printers, 1852. I I ' . The Statutes of California, Third Session. San Francis co: G. K. Fitch & Co., V. E. Giger & Co., State Printers, | 1852. __________ . The Statutes of California, Fourth Session. San Francis co: George Kerr, State Printer, 1853. i . The Statutes of California, Fifth Session. San Francis- J co: B. E. Redding, State Printer, 1854. . The Statutes of California, Fourteenth Session. San Francisco: Benj. P. Avery, State Printer, 1863. DeBow's Seventh Census of the United States and Appendix. Washington, D.C.: Robert Armstrong, Public Printer, 1853. | Kennedy, Joseph C. G. Population of the United States in 1860 . . . The Eighth Census . . . Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1864. ; Lambert, Richard. Homographic Chart of the State Officers . . . | Seventh Session of the California Legislature. Sacramento: | State Journal Steam Press, 1856. ! j ________________ . Homographic Chart of the State Officers . . . | Twelfth Session of the California Legislature. Sacramento: J. Anthony & Co., Printers, 1861. _. Legislature of California. 1852. List of Names of State Officers . . . Third Session. Sacramento: 1852. 305 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 306 _____________. Statistical Chart of . . . The Fourth Session of the Legislature. San Francisco: Layden & 0*Meara, Job Printers, 18537 ! Plaintiffs Index, District Court, County of Los Angeles, 1850-1865. County Clerk's Office, Los Angeles. State of the Union. Speeches before the Legislature. Sacramento: J. Anthony & Co., Printers, Union Book and Job Office, 1861. I The Congressional Globe: The Debates and Proceedings of the First Session of the Thirty-Sixth Congress. Washington, D.C.: John C. Rives, Publisher, 1860. The War of The Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies. 70 vols. Washington: Government Printing Office, 1880-1917. Special Items and Collections Bancroft, R. H. Bancroft Scraps, 113 vols. Vol. I-II: California Counties— Los Angeles. Vol. XXVI: California Bibliography. 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Reminiscences of Early Cali fornia. Boston: The Gorham Press, 1922. Barrows, H. D. "Los Angeles Fifty Years Ago." A paper read before the Historical Society of Southern California, April 16, 1905. Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, VI (1905), 203-207. ______________ . "Recollections of the Old Court House," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, III (1894), 40-46. ______________ . "Reminiscences of Los Angeles in the Fifties and Early Sixties," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, III (1893), 55-62. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 309 Bell, Horace H, On the Old West Coast; Being Further Reminiscences j of a Ranger. New York: William Morrow and Co., 1930. j ______________. Reminiscences of a Ranger, or, Early Times in j Southern California. Santa Barbara, Calif.: Wallace Hibbard, | 1927. ______________. "Reminiscences of a Ranger or Early Times in Southern California. Clippings from the Los Angeles Morning Republi can." Bancroft Library. Brent, Joseph Lancaster. Memoirs Of The War Between The States. New Orleans: Fontana Printing Company, Inc., 1940. Brewer, William H. Up and Down California in 1860-64: The Journal of William H. Brewer. Edited by F. P. Farquhar. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1931. ! I | Bynam, Lindley, ed. "Los Angeles in 1854-1855: The Diary of Reverend James Woods," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly. XXXIII (Jtine, 1941), 65-86. Davis, William H. Glimpses of the Past, Journal of William Heath Davis. MS Collection, Bancroft Library. ______________ • "Reminiscences of John Temple." William H. Davis Collection, fymtington Library. Ellison, William H., ed. "Memoirs of William M. Gvin," California Historical Society Quarterly, XIX (Mar., 1940), 1-26; (June, 1940), 157-184; (Sept., 1940), 256-277; (Dec., 1940), 344-367. Griffin, John S. Los Angeles in 1849. A Letter from John S. Griffin, M.D. to J. D. Stephenson. March 11, 1849. Los Angeles: 1 Printed Privately, 1949. Harpending, Asbury. The Great Diamond Hoax and Other Stirring Incidents in the Life of Aabury Harpending. Edited by James H. Wilkin. San Francisco: The James H. Barry Co., 1913. I Hayes, Benjamin I. Pioneer Notes fromthe Diaries of Benjamin Hayes, 1849-1875. Edited by Marjorie Tinsdale Wolcott. Los Angeles: Printed Privately, 1929. Sherman, Allen B., ed. "Sherman was There. The Recollections of Major Edwin A. Sherman," California Historical Society Quarterly. XXIII (Sept., 1944), 259-281; (Dec., 1944), 349-377. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 310 i "The California Recollections of Casper T. Hopkins," California Historical Society Quarterly, XXV (June, 1846), 97-120; (Sept., i$46), 255-266; (Dec., 1946), 325-346; XXVI (Mar., 1947), 63-75; (June, 1947), 175-182; (Sept., 1947), 253-266; (Dec., 1947), 351-363; XXVII (Mar., 1948), 65-73; (June, 1948), 165-174; (Sept., 1948), 267-274; (Dec., 1948), 339-351. Thornton, Harry Innes, Jr. "Recollections of the War by a Confederate Officer from California," Southern California Quarterly, XLV (Sept., 1963), 195-218. Warner, J.J. "Reminiscences of Early California From 1831 to 1846," Annual Publications of the Historical Society of Southern California (1907-1908), 176-193i ~~ Wheat, Carl I., ed. '"California's Bantam Cock:' The Journals of Charles deLong, 1854-1863," California Historical Society Quarterly, VII (Sept., 1929), 193-213; (Dec., 1929), 357- 363; IX (Mar., 1930), 5-80; (June, 1930), 12S-181; (Sept.. 1930), 243-287; (Dec., 1930), 345-397; X (Mar., 1931), 40-78; (June, 1931), 165-201; (Sept., 1931), 245-297; (Dec., 1931), 355-395; XI (Mar., 1932), 46-64. Woods, Rev. James. Recollections of Pioneer Work in California. San Francisco: Joseph Winterbum & Co., 1877. _ Workman, Boyle. The City That Grew. (Reminiscences] as told to Caroline Walker. Los Angeles: The Southland Publishing Co., 1935. Workman, William H. "Memoirs of My Coming to California," Annual Report of the Los Angeles County Pioneers of Southern California, 1^08-6^ (Los Angeles, 1909), 6-11. ~ Books After Harper's Ferry. John Brown's Widow— Her Family and the Sara- toga Years0 Saratoga, Calif.: Saratoga Historical Foundation, uw.-- Bancroft, H. H. History of California. 7 vols. San Francisco: A. L. Bancroft, 1884-1890. . History of the Life of John G. Downey. A Character Study. San Francisco: The History Company, 1889. Baling, William, and George H. Six Horses. New York: Appleton- Century-Crofts, 1930. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 311 Beattie, George W., and Helen P. Heritage of the Valley. Pasadena: San Pasqual Press, 1939. | Bonsai, Stephen. Edward Fitzgerald Beale, A Pioneer in the Path of I Empire, 1822-1903. New York: G. P. Putnam & Sons, 1912. Caughey, John W. California. New York: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1946. ______________ , ed. The Indians of Southern California in 1852. The B. D. Wilson Report and a Selection of Contemporary Comment. San Marino: Huntington Library, 1952. Charnwood, Lord G. R. B. Abraham Lincoln. Garden City, N. Y.: Henry E. Holt & Co., 1917. j Cleland, Robert Glass. The Cattle on a Thousand Hills. Southern ! California, 1850-1870. San Marino: Huntington Library, 1941. i . History of California: American Period. New York: The Macmillan Co., 1922. Cleland, Robert Glass, and Hardy, Osgood. March of Industry. Los Angeles: Powell Publishing Co., 1929. Colton, Ray C. The Civil War in the Western Territories. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1959. Coy, Owen C. California County Boundaries. Berkeley: Historical Survey Commission, 1923. Crafts, E. P. R. Pioneer Days in the San Bernardino Valley. Los Angeles: Kingsley, Moles & Collins Co., 1906. Davis, William H. Seventy-Five Years in California. Edited by H. A. Small. San Francisco: John Howell Books, 1967. i j Davis, Winfield J. History of Political Conventions in California, 1849-1892. Sacramento: California State Library, 1893. Ellison, William. A Self-Governing Dominion: California, 1849-1860. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1950. Farquhar, F. P. Joaquin Murrietta, the Brigand Chief of California. A Complete History of His Life from the Age of Sixteen to the Time of His Capture and Death in 1853 . . . San | Francisco: The Grabhom Press, 1932. Graves, Jackson A. My Seventy Years in California. Los Angeles: Tlmes-Mirror Press, 1927. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 317 Grivas, Theodore, Military Government in California, 1846-1850 . . . Glendale: Alfred H. Clark Co., 1963. j : Guinn, J. M. Historical and Biographical Record of Los Angeles and j Vicinity. Chicago: Chapman Publishing Co., 1907. j I ' ! Heyman, Max L., Jr. Prudent Soldier. A Biography of Major E. R. S. j Canby. 1817-1873. Glendale: Alfred H. Clark Co., 1959. j ! ------------------------ | Higham, John. Strangers in the Land. Patterns of American Nativism, 1860-1925. New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press, 1955. | I Hill, Laurence L. La Reina— Los Angeles in Three Centuries. Los Angeles: Security Trust and Savings Bank, 1929. ! Hittell, John Se Bancroft's Pacific Coast Guide Book. San Francis co: A. L. Bancroft and Co., Publishers, 1882. j ______________ . Resources of California, 5th ed. San Francisco: A. Roman and Company, 1869. Hunt, Aurora, The Army of the Pacific. Glendale: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1951. Hunt, Rockwell D., and Ament, William S. Oxcart to Airplane. Los i Angeles: Powell Publishing Co., 1929. i Jensen, Andrew, comp. Church Chronology. A Record of Important Events Pertaining to the History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. 2nd ed. Salt Lake City: The Deseret News, 1899. ; Keffer, Frank M. History of San Fernando Valley. Glendale: Stillman | Printing Co., 1934. i | Kennedy, Elijah P. The Contest For California in 1861. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1912. Kroeber, Alfred Louis. Handbook of the Indians in California. Washington: Smithsonian Institution, 1925. Krythe, Marjorie. Port Admiral— Phineas Banning, 1830-1885. San Francisco: California Historical Society, 1957. Layne, J. 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"Southern California Newspapers, 1851-1876," i Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXXII (Mar., 1033)75-46; (June, 1956), I j | Dickson, Edward A. "How the Republican Party was Organized in i California," Historical Society of Southern California ; | Quarterly, XXX (Sept., 1948), 196-204. j Donnell, F. S. "The Confederate Territory of Arizona, As Compiled j From Official Sources," New Mexico Historical Review, XVII (April, 1942), 148-163. i Duniway, Clyde A. "Slavery in California After 1848," American ! Historical Association Annual Report (1905), 243-248. | j | Dustin, Charles Mial. "Knights of the Golden Circle," The Pacific Monthly, XXVI (Nov., 1911), 495-504. Dyer, Brainerd. "Confederate Naval and Privateering Activities in the Pacific," Pacific Historical Review, III (Dec., 1934), 433-444. Earle, John J. "The Sentiment of the People of California With Respects to the Civil War," Annual Report of the American Historical Association, I (1907), 123-135. Ellison, Joseph. "The Currency Question on the Pacific Coast During the Civil War," The Mississippi Valley Historical Review, XVI (June, 1919), 50-66. Fish, Carl R. "Conscription in the Civil War," American Historical Review, XXI (Oct., 1915), 100-103. Franklin, William E. "The Archy Case: The California Supreme Court Refuses to Free a Slave," Pacific Historical Review, XXXII (May, 1963), 137-154. Gilbert, B. F. "California and the Civil War," California Historical Society Quarterly, XL (Dec., 1961), 289-308. . "Mythical Johnston Conspiracy," California Historical Society Quarterly XVIII (June, 1949), 165-173. _____________ "San Francisco Harbor Defenses During the Civil War," California Historical Society Quarterly, XXXIII (Sept., 1954), 229-240. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 319 j . "The Confederate Minority in California," California ! ! Historical Society Quarterly, XX (June, 1941), 154-170. ! ___________. "The Confederate Raider Shenandoah: The Elusive " Destroyer in the Pacific and the Arctic," Journal of the West, IV (April, 1965), 169-182. I ; i Goldman, Henry H. "General James H. Carleton and the New Mexico Indian Campaigns, 1862-1866," Journal of the West, II (April, 1963), 156-165. | { . "Southern Sympathy in Southern California," 1 Journalof the West, IV (Oct., 1965), 577-586. Guinn, J. M. "California Fifty Years Ago," Annual Publication of the j Historical Society of Southern California, III (1894), 16-21. __________ . "Date of the First Discovery of Gold in California," ! " Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern | California, III (1895), 59. __________ . "From Cattle Range to Orange Grove." Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, VIII (1911), 145-157. _______. "How California Escaped State Division," Annual Publi- cation of the Historical Society of Southern California. VI (1905) 223-232. . "La Estrella, The Pioneer Newspaper of Los Angeles," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California and Pioneer Register, V (1900), 70-77. j ________. "Los Angeles in the Adobe Days," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California and Pioneer Register, IV (1897), 49-55. . "Los Angeles in the Later Sixties and Early Seventies," { Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, VIII (1909-1910), 51-60. . "Pioneer Railroads of Southern California," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, VIII (1911), 188-192. ___________ . "The Gold Placers of Los Angeles," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, VIII (1911), j 228-233. i ! ___________ ^ "The Lost Mines of Santa Catalina," Annual Publications of the Historical Society of Southern California, IX (1912), 43-48....... ' ' ______________ Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 320 __________ . "The Plan of Old Los Angeles," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, III (1895), 40-50. i i . "The Sonoran Migration," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, VIII (1909-1910), 31-36. Hall, Martin H. "The Skirmish At Messilla." Arizona and the West. I (Winter, 1959), 343-351. J _____________ "The Skirmish at Pichaco," Civil War History, IV ! (Mar., 1950), 27-35. | ; Hammond, Robert. "Historical Aspects of Tobacco Culture in California1 , 1 California Historical Society Quarterly, XL (June, 1961), 97-101. : Hargis, Donald E. "The Great Debate in California, 1859," California Historical Society Quarterly. XLII (June, 1960), 150-160. i j______________ . "The Issues in the Broderick-Gwin Debate of 1859," California Historical Society Quarterly, XXXII (Dec., 1953), 313-326.------------- --------- -------- i_________________. "W. M. Gwin: Middleman," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly. XL (Mar., 1958), 17-22. Hubert, H. C. "Pro-Southern Influences in the Far West, 1840-1865," Mississippi Valley Historical Review, XX (June, 1933), 45-62. ! Hunsaker, William J. "Lansford W. Hastings' Project For the Invasion and Conquest of Arizona and New Mexico For the Southern Con federacy," Arizona Historical Review, IV (July, 1931), 5-12. Hunt, Aurora. "California Volunteers on Border Patrol, 1862-1866," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXX (Dec., 1948), 265-276. Hunt, Rockwell D. "History of the California State Division Con troversy," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, XII (1924), 37-53. Hunter, Milton R. "The Mormon Corridor," Pacific Historical Review, VIII (June, 1939), 179-200. Hurt, Peyton. "The Rise and Fall of 'Know-Nothingism* in California," California Historical Society Quarterly, IX (Mar., 1930), 16-49; (June, 1930), 97-128. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Hyman, Harold H. "New Light on Cohen v Wright: California's First Loyalty Oath Case, Pacific Historlcai Review, XXVIII (May, 1939), 1 3 1 - 1 4 0 . ------------------ 1 Johannsen, Robert W. "StephenA. hougla8 and the South," Journal of Southern History, XXXIII 1967), 26-50. ---------- Kibby, Leo P, California, the Civ^ War, and the Indian Problem: An Account of California s Pa*ticipation ln the Great conflict," Journal_ot thejtest, IV (Aprtl> 1965), 183-209; (July, 1965), 377« "California Soldiery tjje civil War," California Historical Socie^ Quarter^> ^ (DeCo> 1961)> 343.348 ------------ t "Union Loyalty of C*lifornla»s Civil War Governors," California Historical Soci^ ty Quarterly, XL (Dec., 1965), 311-322* ------------ . "With Colonel Carle^on and the California Column," Historical Society of S o u t ^ California Quarterly, XLI (Dec., 1959), 3 7 7 - 4 4 4 . ------------------------ King, Laura Evertsen. "The Stores of Loa Angeles in 1850," Annual Publication of the Hlstorl^ Society of Southern California and of the Pioneers of Lo^ geles V (1900) --- Kornweibel, Theodore, Jr. "The Oc<vupafclon of Santa Catalina Island During the Civil War, C a l f Historical Society Quarte^y, XLVI (Dec., 1967), 345-357^------------------------ ^ ^ Krythe, Mamie. 'Daily Life in Los Angeles," Historical Society of Southern California Quartern, xXXVI (Mar., 1954), 28-39; (June, 1954), 115-129; (Se^t%> 1954), 225-237; (Dec., 1954), 322-337. "First Hotel of 01d Angeles— Bella Union." Historical Society of.Southern California Quarterly, XXXIII (Mar., 1951), 37-59", (June,'m ~)ri47-179; (Sept., 1951), 245-269; (Dec., 195^), 331I358. Layne, J. Gregg. "Edward Ortho Cre8ap Qrd, Soldier and Surveyor," Historical Society of Soutt,Qy„ California Quarterly, XVII (Dec., 1935), 139-142. i Lelande, H. J., comp. "Extracts f*om the Los Angeles Archives," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California and of the PiotWyB of Los Angeles County, VI (1905), 242-252. 2 t Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 322 J j Loveridge, Jesse Moore. "Historical Notes," Michigan Historical j Magazine, XV (Spring, 1931), 376-380. j j Lynch, William C. "The Westward Flow of Southern Colonists before | 1861," Journal of Southern History, IX (Aug., 1943), 303-327. McCorkle, Julia N. "History of Los Angeles Journalism," Annual Publication Historical Society of Southern California, X (1915), 24-43. MacFarland, J. C. "Don Benito Wilson," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXXI (Dec., 1949), 273-290. McVictor, Barbar McClung. "Southern and Northern Methodism in Civil War California," California Historical Society Quarterly, XL (Dec., 1961), 327-342. Maroney, J. F. "Historical Background of Los Angeles County," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXVI (June-Sept., 1944), 118-120. Miller, Robert R. "Californians Against the Emperor," California Historical Society Quarterly, XXXVII (June, 1961), 193-214. ________________ . "The Camanche: First Monitor of the Pacific," California Historical Society Quarterly, XLV (June, 1966), i 113-124. i I Nasatir, Abraham P. "The French Attitude in California During the Civil War Decade," California Historical Society Quarterly, XLIII (Mar., 1964), 19-36. Newmark, Marco R. "Ordinances and Regulations of Los Angeles, 1832- 1888," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXX (Mar., 1948), 26-41; (June, 1949), 97-110. i j________________ . "Phineas Banning, Intrepid Pioneer," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXXV (Sept., 1953), 265-274. ________________ . "Pioneer Merchants of Los Angeles," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXIV (Sept., 1942), 77-97; XXV (Mar.-June, 1943), 5-65. Polos, Nicholas C. "John Swett, A Stranger in the Southland," California Historical Society Quarterly, XLII (June, 1963), 145-153. Porter, Fitz John. "The Offer of Union Command to General A. S. Johnston," The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine, XXIV (Feb., 1885), 634-635. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Porter, V. M. "General Stephen W. Kearny and the Conquest of California (1846-47)," Annual Publication Historical Society of Southern California, VIII (1909-1910), 95-127. j Randall, James G. "The Newspaper Problem in Its Bearing Upon Military Secrecy during the Civil War," American Historical Review, XXIII (1918), 303-323. Reynolds, Hortense C. "Ozro William Childs," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXXVI (June, 1954), 138-145. i Ripley, Vemette Snyder. "The San Fernando Pass and the Pioneer J Traffic that weat over it," Historical Society of Southern I California Quarterly, XXIX (Mar., 1947), 9-48; (Sept.-Dec., ; 1947), 137-143; XXX (Mar., 1948), 42-64; (June, 1948), 11-60. | Rippy, J. Fred. "Mexican Projects of the Confederacy," Southwestern Historical Quarterly, XXII (April, 1919), 291-317, ! j Robinson, W. W. "Story of Ord's Survey," Historical Society of I Southern California Quarterly, XIX (Sept.,-Dec., 1937), j 121'131. I i Romer, Margaret. "The Story of Los Angeles," Journal of the West, j I (July, 1962), 121-134; II (Jan., 1963), 31-65: (April, ! 1963), 166-192; (July, 1963), 316-335; III (Jan., 1964), 1- 39; (April, 1964), 199-220; (Dec., 1964), 459-88. Rosner, Russell M. "Thomas Starr King and the Mercy Million," California Historical Society Quarterly XLIII (Dec., 1964), 291-308. Scammel, J. M. "Milittiry Units in Southern California, 1853-1862," California Historical Society Quarterly, XXIX (June, 1950), 220-250. i | Shaw, William L. "The Impact of Napoleon III Upon the Pacific | Coast," Pacific Historian, VII (Feb., 1963), 13-24. Shutes, Milton H. "Republican Nominating Convention, A California Report," California Historical Society Quarterly, XVI (June, 1948), 97-103. Spaulding, Imogene. "The Attitude of California to the Civil War," Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern California, IX (1912), 104-131. Splitter, Henry W. "Los Angeles as Described by Contemporaries, 1850- 90," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXXVII (June 1955), 125-138. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. lOU I ! Stephenson, Terry E. "Forster vs. Pico, A Forgotten California j Cause Celebre," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XVIII (Mar., 1936), 22-30; (June, 1936), 50-68. ! Strong, John L. "Cotton Experiments in California," Overland Monthly, VI (April, 1871), 326-335. Surgranes, Rev. Eugene, C.M.F. "First Discovery of Gold in Califor nia," Los Angeles County Pioneer Society Historical Record and Souvenir. Los Angeles; Times-Mirror Press, 1923, 43-47. j I Tay, George. "Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo and Sonoma— A Biography and a History," California Historical Society Quarterly, XVI (June, 1937), 99-119; (Sept., 1937), 216-255; (Dec., 1937), 343-372; XVII (Mar., 1938), 50-73; (June, 1938), 141-167; | (Sept., 1938), 219-242. Thompson, William F., Jr. "M. S. Latham and the Senatorial Con troversy of 1857," California Historical Society Quarterly, XXXII (June, 1953), 145-160. Thompson, William Y. "Sanitary Fairs of the Civil War," Civil War History. IV (Mar., 1958), 51-68. "Trade Conditions At San Pedro in 1850, A Memorial to Congress." j Annual Publication of the Historical Society of Southern | California, VII (1907-1908), 164-168. Tyler, Helen. "The Family of Pico," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXXV (Sept., 1953), 221-238. Van Winder, Kathe, "The Assasination of Abraham Lincoln: It’s Affect in California," Journal of the West, IV (April, 1964), 211-230. Waitman, Leonard. "The History of Camp Cody," Historical Society of I Southern California Quarterly, XXVI (Mar., 1954), 49-91. Walker, Chas. S. "Causes of the Confederate Invasion of New Mexico," New Mexico Historical Review, VIII (April, 1933), 76-97. Walters, Helen B. "Confederates in Southern California," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXXV (Mar., 1953), 41-54. Waters, W. 0. "Los Angeles Imprints," Historical Society of Southern California Quarterly, XIX (June, 1937), 63-94; XX (June, 1938), 60-83; (Sept., 1938), 93-113. Watford, W. H. "Confederate Western Ambitions," Southwestern j Historical Quarterly, XLIV (Oct., 1940), 161-187. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. --------- _ l _____________ . "The Far-Western Wing of the Rebellion," California | Historical Society Quarterly, XXXIV (June, 1955), 125-148. Westergard, Waldemar. "T. R. Bark and the Beginnings of the Oil j Industry in Southern California," Annual Publication Historical Society of Southern California, X (1917), 57-69. Williamson, Lillian A. "New Light on J. J. Warner," Annual Publication Historical Society of Southern California, XIII (1924), 5-28. I Wilson, Iris H. "Early Southern California Viniculture," Historical ! Society of Southern California Quarterly, XXXIX (Sept., 1957), 242-250. {Wright, Doris M. "The Making of Cosmopolitan California: An Analysis | of Immigration, 1848-1870," California Historical Society | Quarterly, XIX (Dec., 1940), 323-343; XX (K-r., 1941), 65-79. | Zarnow, William. "California Sidelights on the Presidential Election j of 1864," California Historical Society Quarterly, XXIV (Mar., 1955), 49-64. Unpublished Theses and Dissertations Andreini, George L. "An Historical Evaluation of Thomas Starr King's Public Address with Special Reference to the Retention of California as a Union State." Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Southern California, 1951. Bystrom, Shirley Caroline. "Los Angeles, 1846-1860." Unpublished M.A. thesis, University of California, Berkeley, 1951. Cullinau, Nicholas C. "History of Party Politics xn California, 1849- 1854." Unpublished M.A. thesis, University of California, j Berkeley, 1928. |Dayton, Dello G. "The California Militia, 1850-1866." Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Berkeley, 1951. Geyer, William C. "California and the West in Civil War Times." Unpublished M.A. Thesis, University of Southern California, 1958. Gilbert, Benjamin Franklin. "Confederate Activity and Propaganda in California," Unpublished M.A. thesis, University of California, Berkeley, 1940. Hough, John C„ "Abel Stearns, 1848-1871." Unpublished Ph.D. disser tation, University of California at Los Angeles, 1961. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 326 Johnson, Alice E. "The. Attitude of California Toward the Compromise of 1850." Unpublished M.A. thesis, University of Southern California, 1862. Latimer, Frances L. "California and the Civil War." Unpublished M.A. thesis, University of California, Berkeley, 1929. Moody, William P. "The Civil War and Reconstruction in California Politics," Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of California at Los Angeles, 1950. Powell, Etta Olive. "Southern Influences in California Politics Before 1864." Unpublished M.A. thesis, University of California, Berkeley, 1924. Wright, Doris M. "A Yankee in Mexican California. Abel Stearns: 1798-1848." Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Claremont College, 1954. Newspaper Files Los Angeles Irresistible, August, 1865. Los Angeles Semi-Weekly Southern News— Semi-Weekly News— Tri-Weekly News, 1860-1869. Los Angeles Star, 1851-1864; 1867-1869. San Bernardino Guardian, 1867-1868. San Francisco Daily Alta California, 1850-1868. Wilmington Journal, 1865-1868. i | Los Angeles Herald, April, 1879, Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
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LEWIS, ALBERT LUCIAN
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Core Title
LOS ANGELES IN THE CIVIL WAR DECADES, 1850 TO 1868.
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Doctor of Philosophy
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University of Southern California
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History, modern,OAI-PMH Harvest
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199004
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LEWIS, ALBERT LUCIAN
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