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https://history.santacruzpl.org/omeka/files/original/a9f4b29a0e5caf6686912b032a52e70a.jpg
6d8b75d37c0b269cbf1cb75422b24ae2
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Photograph Collection
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Photographs from the 1860's to the 2000's, documenting the history of Santa Cruz County.
See the <a href="https://history.santacruzpl.org/omeka/restrictions-on-use">About</a><a> sectionfor the library's reproduction policy and restrictions on use.</a>
Various sources were used to identify persons, events, and places. Citations to print sources were abbreviated. See the <a href="https://history.santacruzpl.org/omeka/sources-used-to-identify-photographs">About</a><a> section for a list of sources used.</a>
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Santa Cruz Public Libraries
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LH-pr06
Title
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Dick Fellows, a.k.a. G. Brett Lytle
Description
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The stage robber Dick Fellows, a.k.a. G. Brett Lytle.
<a href="http://history.santacruzpl.org/omeka/sources-used-to-identify-photographs/">Source of information:</a> Article on this Website, see link below.
Relation
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<a href="/omeka/items/show/10953">G. Brett Lytle, Professor of Languages</a>
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This photograph is courtesy of Phil Reader.
<a href="http://history.santacruzpl.org/omeka/restrictions-on-use/">Restrictions on Use</a>
Subject
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Fellows, Dick
Crime and Criminals-Burglary, Robbery, Larceny
Lytle, G. Brett
Publisher
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Santa Cruz Public Libraries
Format
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Image
Language
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En
Type
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PHOTO
Crime and Criminals
Portraits
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https://history.santacruzpl.org/omeka/files/original/3a5dcb1beb39511980b0cf93f9d87126.pdf
0787afe609a825f74c2e0124eb4720a3
PDF Text
Text
G. Brett Lytle, Professor of Languages
By Phil Reader
The comic opera bandit, Dick Fellows, holds a special place in the literature of California outlawry, nay, American
outlawry. The uniqueness of his position can be summed up in one word—unsuccessful. His career, also, can easily be
described using one word—folly. He could quite rightly lay claim to being the original Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines.
Not only was he a dismal flop at his chosen profession, that of a stage robber, but horses of all breeds seem to hold him
in utter contempt. The horse was never born that would allow Dick Fellows to ride it and his equestrian endeavors led
him directly to San Quentin on two occasions.
A contemporary analogy would be a bank robber who successfully loots the vault, but during his escape, he falls, breaks
his leg, and drags himself to his getaway car only to find that it has run out of gas. After which he attempts to get away
by hobbling down a busy sidewalk lugging a large sack bearing the bank's label and containing his booty. That scenario
best describes Dick Fellows, the legendary outlaw.
Dick's first attempt at larceny came in 1869, when he unsuccessfully attempted to hold up
the Coast Line stage on the outskirts of Santa Barbara. He was promptly arrested and sent to
prison. While at San Quentin he was given a job at the library which enabled him to educate
himself. He helped organize bible study classes and set himself up as a religious spokesman
for the prisoners.
Fellows convinced the prison officials that he was a changed man who had seen the error of
his ways. On April 4, 1874, he was granted a pardon after serving less than half of his original
sentence and for the next year or so, he managed to stay out of trouble.
During the early part of December, 1875, he learned of a shipment of gold coin, totaling
$240,000, which would be carried by stage through Kern County on the 4th on the month.
The temptation was too great for the born-again Mr. Fellows, so in the company of an
unnamed companion, he hatched a plan to stop the stage.
Dick Fellows,
a.k.a. G. Brett Lytle
It was on this occasion that Dick had his first falling out with a horse. He rented a docile
looking mare from a livery stable at Caliente and set out in pursuit of the stage. As they
pulled within sight of the coach, he urged the horse on to greater and greater speed. The mare was only too happy to
oblige him, as a matter of fact she galloped so fast that she ran right out from under the rider leaving Dick suspended in
mid-air for a brief moment before he plummeted groundward. He sat there in the dust watching his fortune ride off into
the sunset, but the gallant bandit just picked himself up and walked back into town where he found that the mare had
returned to her stable.
1
�But Dick Fellows was not the type of man to be easily discouraged. He had another idea: he would rob the northbound
stage out of Los Angeles, which was to pass through Caliente shortly. In order to accomplish this, he needed the
assistance of another horse. So the optimistic brigand stole a saddle-horse from the hitching post in front of a mercantile
store and rode quietly out of town.
About a mile and a half up the road he met the stage coach. Pulling out his pistol, he ordered the driver to halt and
throw down the Wells Fargo treasure box. After the man complied with his demands, Fellows motioned the driver on his
way.
The robber dismounted and began to drag the heavy box back towards the horse. But this unnerved the beast which
also had a will of his own. Upon seeing the man hunched over his burden, it bolted and sped for home at a gallop.
This left Dick afoot for a second time in one day. By now it was growing dark, so he shouldered the chest and set off in
search of a hiding place. He shuffled along in the darkness until suddenly he fell headlong into a fifteen foot ditch and
broke his left foot and ankle. He managed to pull himself out of the ditch and pushed the box along in front of him until
he found a soft spot in the ground where he dug a hole and buried the chest after stuffing the contents into his pockets.
Dick stumbled onward until he came to a nearby farm, where he managed to steal yet another horse. But by the
following morning a well mounted and well rested posse caught up to him and he was arrested and placed in the Kern
county jail at Bakersfield.
He was tried and sentenced once again to a term at San Quentin. As Dick was waiting to be transported to the prison, he
managed to break out of the jail and effect his escape sporting a new pair of crutches which the county of Kern had so
graciously provided for him.
After hiding in the willows along the Kern River for two days he crept into a farmer's corral and once again stole a horse.
He threw a lead rope around the beast's neck and tied it to the corral while he went into the barn to get a saddle. But
this horse, too, must have been repelled by the way he looked because it bolted and ran, leaving the stunned outlaw to
stare after it in disbelief. Later that afternoon two posses converged upon the escapee and clapped him back into jail
where he was held under continuous guard until he was returned to San Quentin.
Dick Fellows' second prison term expired in May of 1881. After two months of trying to go straight he was back at
robbing stages, this time he operated in the central coast region between San Luis Obispo and San Jose. By now he was
well known to local lawmen as well as Wells Fargo detectives.
They followed him from holdup to holdup until they finally caught him hiding at a ranch near Mayfield in Santa Clara
County. They put him in the county jail, but the slippery desperado once again managed to escape. However shortly
thereafter he was recaptured at a cabin in the Santa Cruz Mountains and returned to jail.
He was sent to Santa Barbara where he was tried for a number of crimes and found guilty on all counts. He received a
sentence of life in prison.
But Dick Fellows was to have one last hurrah with the four-legged bane of his existence, the horse. As a prelude to this
dreaded event, he made good his escape from the Santa Barbara jail and darted up the street for a couple of blocks until
he came upon a horse that was staked out in the middle of a field, placidly grazing.
In one fell swoop he pulled up the stake, coiled up the rope, and leapt gracefully upon the animal's back. But it was not
meant to be that easy, for unbeknownst to the luckless rider, the beast upon which he now set was suffering from the
effects of locoweed which it had ingested earlier.
Old Dobbin immediately went into action, bucking and thrashing about in a narcotic fit and once again the curse was
visited upon Dick Fellows as he hung suspended in the air for a brief moment prior to plunging back down into the dust,
prostrate and unconscious.
2
�He was taken back to the jail and spent the rest of his natural life in prison; far, far away from Equus Caballus, the
hooved devils that were to help put his name in the history books.
One might rightfully ask just what has any of this to do with Mr. G. Brett Lytle, Professor of Languages?
Well, in May of 1881, Mr. Lytle rode into Santa Cruz and put up at a local hotel. A few days later he found a job as
solicitor on the staff of the Santa Cruz Daily Echo, a journal published by B. A. Stephens. From its offices on Pacific
Avenue at the Flatiron building, Lytle visited the local merchants securing advertisers for the newspaper.
He was later remembered as a likable fellow, intelligent and witty. In lieu of payment he was allowed to place an
advertisement in the paper reading
"G. BRETT LYTLE, PROFESSOR OF LANGUAGES, SEEKING PUPILS IN SPANISH."
The endeavor proved ill-advised and fruitless as no one appears to have answered the ad. The reason being, of course,
was that Spaniards made up such a large percentage of the local population and anyone who wanted to speak Spanish
already did.
On July 19, 1881, a stage coach was robbed near Gonzales in the Salinas Valley. Lytle, who happened to be in the area,
telegraphed a detailed account to the Daily Echo. At this point in time, Mr. G. Brett Lytle disappears, but the stage
robberies in the central coast continued for the next several months.
The following year, bandit Dick Fellows was captured by a posse deep in the Santa Cruz Mountains near Boulder Creek
while he was trying to make an escape to the coast. Local residents were surprised to learn that G. Brett Lytle, their
would-be Spanish teacher, and the infamous Dick Fellows were one and the same man. The only attempt that the
outlaw ever made to go straight was on the streets of Santa Cruz.
Sources
•
Condensed from: It Is Not My Intention to Be Captured. Copyright 1991 Phil Reader. Reproduced by permission
of the author. Photograph courtesy of Phil Reader.
The content of this article is the responsibility of the individual author. It is the Library's intent to provide accurate local history
information. However, it is not possible for the Library to completely verify the accuracy of individual articles obtained from a
variety of sources. If you believe that factual statements in a local history article are incorrect and can provide documentation,
please contact the Webmaster.
3
�
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Santa Cruz History Articles
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Original articles by library staff and by local authors and material from historical books.
Articles on Santa Cruz County history, many with illustrations, are available here.
The Santa Cruz Public Libraries is grateful to our local historians and their publishers for giving permission to include their articles. The content of the articles is the responsibility of the individual authors.
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Paper
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Title
A name given to the resource
G. Brett Lytle, Professor of Languages
Subject
The topic of the resource
Fellows, Dick
Lytle, G. Brett
Crime and Criminals-Burglary, Robbery, Larceny
Creator
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Reader, Phil
Source
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Condensed from: It Is Not My Intention to Be Captured, 1991.
Publisher
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Santa Cruz Public Libraries
Date
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1991
Format
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Text
Language
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En
Type
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ARTICLE
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AR-003
Coverage
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1880s
Santa Cruz (County)
Rights
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Copyright 1991 Phil Reader. Reproduced by permission of the author. Photograph courtesy of Phil Reader.
Biography
Crime and Criminals
-
https://history.santacruzpl.org/omeka/files/original/1c7f500e97295153c499bbd8b493beb2.pdf
4a744834c81e0093934f477a1243edc8
PDF Text
Text
Anthony Azoff and the Murder of Detective Len Harris
By Phil Reader
Being an account of the attempted robbery of the Wells-Fargo Express Office in Boulder Creek, and the subsequent killing
of Southern Pacific Detective Len Harris.
Introduction
The last two decades of the l9th century were years when the phrase "train robbery" became catch words for the
people of California. It stirred them up and captured their imagination. The much hated Southern Pacific Railroad was at
the height of its power, stretching its tentacles up and down the state. The company's land grabbing schemes were
alienating large segments of the population, and as a result, many small farmers found themselves dispossessed.
A few of these embittered farmers and laborers turned to crime and Southern Pacific trains and depots became prime
targets for masked desperados. The Dalton Gang, Sontag and Evans, and the Johnson Boys found their names splashed
across the pages of California's newspapers. They found safe refuge in the homes of sympathetic farmers. The area
around Visalia quickly became a hot bed of such activities.
Santa Cruz County was not without its contributions to this jaded saga. Daniel (Three-fingered Jack) McCall, son of
pioneer Hugh Pablo McCall, made history by becoming the first native Californian to be killed during an attempted train
robbery.
McCall, a wood chopper by trade, had left Santa Cruz in 1892 and traveled up and down the state before settling in
Visalia in 1894. He fell under the spell of Si Lovern, a barkeeper and old associate of Chris Evans and the Sontag Brothers.
It was at Lovern's saloon that McCall, Lovern, and Obie Britt, a former Soquel resident, hatched the plan to rob a
Southern Pacific train.
The robbery took place on March 19, 1896 when Dan McCall crawled aboard a train #19 as it pulled out of Goshen on
the way to Visalia. At the Targus switch he climbed across the train intending to force the engineer to stop the
locomotive at a deserted siding, where the other gang members would rob the express car.
But what McCall didn't know was that Britt had betrayed their plans to the Tulare County Sheriff and that two deputies,
Earl Daggett and G. W. Reed, were waiting for him on the tender car. In the shoot-out that followed, Daggett and Reed
were wounded and Dan McCall was killed outright. Si Lovern was later arrested and given a life sentence in San Quentin.
But all of this came, however, two years after the most famous criminal event in the history of Santa Cruz area
railroading.
The Shooting
1
�The story of the killing of Len Harris actually began on Monday, May 14, 1894, when Harris and fellow Southern Pacific
Detective William Kelly arrived at the office of Santa Cruz County Sheriff Jesse Cope. The detective explained to Cope
that they had uncovered a plot to rob the Wells Fargo Express office at the railroad depot in Boulder Creek. One of the
plotters, George Sprague, had come forward and informed the company that Anthony Azoff and another man were
planning to hold up the expressman on the night of the 15th.
Since Azoff, a former Boulder Creek resident, knew Sheriff Cope, it was decided that the sheriff should not take part in
the action because his presence in the area might tip off the schemers. Cope was to remain close to the telegraph in
case he was needed later.
The following afternoon Harris, Kelly and Constable Isaiah Hartman secreted themselves inside a box-car which had
been placed in front of the depot. All three were heavily armed and Wells Fargo express agent William Gass had been
forewarned of the possible robbery.
At about 8 o'clock that evening three masked men approached the depot from the north. They were Azoff, the
informant Sprague, and another man unknown to anybody but the gang leader. The latter two remained on the depot
platform while Azoff continued on into the office.
As he stepped through the door he pulled a fearsome looking 44-caliber pistol out from under his cloth coat. The robber
ordered Agent Gass to open the safe and at the same time handed him a sack in which to place the money.
Before the agent could comply, the three peace officers jumped out of the box-car with their weapons at the ready.
Kelly and Hartman turned their attention to the two bandits on the platform, while Harris went in after Azoff.
"You'd better surrender." He shouted, "I've got the drop on you."
But Azoff remained calm and collected. Hardly changing his position he turned his pistol back under his arm and
instantaneously fired two shots before making any move which may have excited or alarmed Harris. Both bullets tore
into the detective's mid-section and he fell forward groaning that he had been hit.
Out on the depot platform, Kelly and Hartman had opened fire on the two remaining outlaws. For some unknown
reason they had not been told that Sprague was an informant. So while bullets were flying all around him he threw up
his hands pleading with them to hold their fire, screaming that he was on the officers’ side. Meanwhile the third
desperado made his getaway into the darkness.
After shooting Harris, Azoff bolted out the depot door, ran through the railroad yard heading in the direction of Bear
Creek Road. Constable Hartman followed him for about a quarter mile blazing away with his shotgun. The fleeing robber
returned the fire over his shoulder, squeezing off five shots before disappearing into the woods.
Hartman went back to the depot, made Harris as comfortable as possible, and then telegraphed Sheriff Cope in Santa
Cruz. Cope and Deputy Wright set out for Boulder Creek where they were met up with Hartman, and the three men
started out on the trail of the gunman.
Len Harris
Detective Harris was taken to the Morgan Hotel where he was tended to by Dr. Allen. The two bullets had passed
through his abdomen tearing up some vital organs, so his wounds were pronounced as fatal.
The following morning railroad Superintendent J. A. Fillmore sent a special engine and car down to Boulder Creek to
carry Detective Harris to his home in Oakland. Accompanying him on the journey were his son Jack Harris and Doctors
Allen and Morgan. He arrived at his home in the late afternoon and at 11:30 that night he lapsed into a coma and died.
2
�Leonard Harris was born in upstate New York in 1828. He moved to California during the gold rush and by 1856 he was
working as a lawman in Sacramento, serving both as constable and sheriff. During the construction phase of the
Southern Pacific Railroad he was hired as a special detective and for many years he was chief of the detective division.
Harris was always known as a brave and clever lawman. One of his best pieces of work happened while he was stationed
in the Arizona Territory. The overland train was held up at Pantano, Pima County, and the treasure box and mail bags
were stolen. Harris and a band of Indian trackers followed the robbers into a lava bed where the trail was lost. He found
a place where the thieves had last camped. Among the ashes of their fire he found pieces of a charred newspaper which
had been published in Oregon. With this slender lead he discovered that two men, a saloon keeper in Silver City and a
store keeper in Benson, were subscribers to the paper. The rest of the evidence was easily obtained, and a tough named
Gambler Bob was included in the gang that eventually got long terms in the Yuma Territorial Prison. In 1888 he pursued
a gang that had committed a robbery on the Sonora Road in Arizona. He and Marshal Bob Paul were in charge of the
posse, and Harris was always in the lead. The criminals had gone into the Sierra Madre Mountains in the middle of a
blinding snow storm. Besides the bad weather, there was always the chance of meeting Apache Indians. They finally
came upon the bandits beyond Chicuahua and a pitch battle ended in the death of the four highwaymen.
One day in Tucson, Detective Harris won the admiration of a trainload of tourists when he disarmed a drunken cowboy
who was intimidating the passengers. He simply pulled the rifle out of the cowboy's hands and cursed him for being a
fool, after which he turned him over to the local sheriff.
At Alila, in the San Joaquin Valley, on September 4, 1891, he was on a train which was held up by the Sontag and Evans
Gang. He had started to repulse the robbers when he received a wound in the back of the neck. He was never able to
fully recover as the doctors were unable to locate the bullet. As a result Harris' right arm was to remain partially
paralyzed.
Just prior to being called to Santa Cruz, Harris was investigating a robbery in Los Angeles.
So this was the type of brave and courageous man who was buried on May 20th, 1894. Len Harris was a veteran of the
Mexican War and one of the greatest lawmen in the history of the old west. He left a widow and two children.
The Pursuit and Capture
On the night of the attempted robbery at Boulder Creek, Anthony Azoff was last seen going into the woods at Bear
Creek Road. Sheriff Jesse Cope at the head of a posse had followed him, rummaging around in the darkness for about an
hour in a vain effort to locate the killer. They returned to Boulder Creek and wired the sheriffs in surrounding counties
requesting their help and including a description of Azoff.
By daybreak the next morning there were three posses in the saddle scouring the Santa Cruz Mountains. Sheriff Cope
divided his men into two groups. One went over the hills toward Saratoga, while the other group searched Bear Creek
Road and other roads which led over the mountains.
Sheriff Bollinger of Santa Clara County started out in a westward direction from San Jose, while San Mateo deputies
secured the roads leading into that county. The lawmen had two fears. One was that Azoff would find his way to the
coast and follow the beaches up to San Francisco, where he might board an out-going vessel. Another possibility was
that he could hide in the rugged Big Basin region for as long as he wished. The bandit had worked cutting lumber in the
mountains and knew the area well. He had many friends among the Russian and Finnish lumbermen who would supply
him with food and information.
The Southern Pacific Company offered a $500 reward for his capture hoping that the money would serve as an
inducement to one of Azoff's acquaintances to turn on him. Over the next few days the fugitive was reported as being
seen in Los Gatos and in the vicinity of Saratoga. All leads proved to be futile.
3
�Two men found Azoff's coat in the Boulder Creek train yard. In a pocket was found a note which read: "Ask and you will
receive. Keep my uniform till I return." What that meant no one was able to learn, for the bandit showed no sign of
returning.
Then a mysterious fact was uncovered. On Monday, the 14th, when detectives Harris and Kelly had arrived at Boulder
Creek they registered under fictitious names, and soon afterwards someone wrote the words "man hunters" after their
signatures. When Harris returned to the hotel after dinner, he saw it and asked who did it. No one could tell him, so he
erased it and left the hotel. When he came back later the word "hunter" was again written under his name. Once more
he questioned the hotel employees, but still no one knew who had written the words.
A still more mysterious occurrence took place in Boulder Creek on the evening of the Saturday, the l9th. For several
nights a stranger had been seen making purchases in town and then disappearing in the direction of the San Lorenzo
River. Once he went into a drug store, saying he wanted some medicine for a wound, as his hand had been cut.
Ben Mashall was asked to keep an eye on the stranger, who was suspected of bringing food to Azoff. On Saturday night,
Marshall was waiting for the suspect to make his appearance in town. He saw the stranger about seventy-five yards
away when suddenly, without warning, the man pulled a pistol and began shooting at Marshall. The lookout returned
the fire, each man getting off four shots. The gun play was heard in Boulder Creek and Sheriff Cope hurried to the scene.
But no trace of the stranger would ever be found. He had mysteriously disappeared. Most believed that he was the third
bandit who had escaped during the depot shoot-out.
While this was taking place a farmer named J. Schroeder was riding through his wheat fields near Redwood City when a
man answering Azoff's description approached him and asked for work. He directed the man to his ranch saying that he
would be there soon. Instead he went directly into town to tell an officer. The man (later identified as Azoff) waited
around for a short time and then started off down the road to San Jose. A little further on he encountered another man
who recognized him, and this man also reported him to the sheriff.
Under Sheriff J. H. Mansfield, accompanied by Deputy Jonathan Butts in a buggy, took to the road that runs between
Palo Alto and Mayfield. There were many tramps on the road and they were each checked for their identity. By then it
was dark and the lawmen carried a lantern.
At last about six miles from Redwood City they encountered still another wanderer and pulled up, stopping on either
side of him. Mansfield engaged the man in easy conversation while Butts checked him out closely in the light of the
lantern. Following a prearranged signal both deputies pulled out their revolvers and pointed them at the murderer's
head.
"Azoff," said Mansfield, "I want you!"
They quickly relieved him of his 44-pistol and fifty rounds of ammunition while securing him to the back of the buggy.
Within an hour he was locked in a cell of the San Mateo County Jail and held under twenty-four hour guard.
Anthony Azoff
When arrested, Anthony Azoff, was a thirty-five year old man of Russian origin, who
stood 5 foot 9 inches and weighed 160 pounds. He had a stocky build and wore a long
droop mustache. His clothes were those of a common laborer and his bearing was erect
and alert.
Over the next few days bits and pieces of his biography began to appear in the local
press. He was born in 1862 somewhere in Virginia of Russian immigrant parents.
Orphaned at an early age he began to drift around the country.
Azoff's San Quentin "mug shot."
4
�In the 1880s he worked as a cowboy in the plains states and settled for a few years in the Arizona Territory. During this
time he ran with a wild crowd and he was implicated in the Prescott train robbery. But there was not enough proof to
indict him and so he was released. He later crossed the border into Mexico and was jailed for a crime of a serious nature.
Azoff and his cell mate managed to escape from prison and returned to the states.
1888 found him in Boulder Creek where he worked at Peery's Mill in the mountains for a time before being hired by
James F. Cunningham in his mercantile business as the driver of a delivery wagon. When Cunningham sold out to
Daugherty and Middleton, Azoff remained on the job. While driving the wagon he first met George Sprague. During this
time he married and his wife gave birth to a daughter.
In 1891 Anthony Azoff and his family left Boulder Creek and moved to Eureka where they remained for a period of one
year. At this time Azoff and his wife began to quarrel and she went to Oakland to live with her married sister. He
followed her and they lived together off and on until April of 1894 when she moved back home to her parent's farm in
Missouri.
About this time Azoff ran into George Sprague on a street in Oakland. They had not seen each other since the days when
they had worked together in Boulder Creek. Azoff began to discuss the possibility of robbing the train or the railroad
depot in Boulder Creek, as it was an area with which they were both familiar. He even suggested that they start calling
each other Chris and John, in open admiration of Chris Evans and John Sontag—the Tulare County bandits.
Azoff bragged about his role in the Prescott train robbery as well as an attempt to hold up a train near Sacramento. The
more Azoff pressed him on the proposed Boulder Creek job, the more Sprague was determined to turn him in. On May
10th, he betrayed their plans to the Southern Pacific, who in turn sent Harris and Kelly out on their deadly mission.
The Trial and Execution
On May 21, there was a large crowd at the Santa Cruz depot who had gathered hoping to catch a glimpse of Anthony
Azoff, the man killer. But they were disappointed because Sheriff Cope had alighted with his prisoner at the Seabright
station where Under Sheriff Wright met them with a rig and hustled them to the jail by a back route.
That day he was positively identified by a number of people including Wells-Fargo Agent Gass, and J. F. Cunningham, his
former employer. Afterwards he was photographed and taken before Justice Craghill for a preliminary hearing. Trial was
set for June 25, in Superior Court and Frank Stone was appointed as his attorney.
Azoff's trial on the charge of murder was a mere formality. In his testimony George Sprague outlined the defendant's
detailed plan for the robbery explaining his roll and that of the mysterious third outlaw. Afterwards Agent Gass
identified Azoff as the man who had attempted to hold him up and had shot Detective Harris.
It took the jury forty-five minutes and only two ballots to find Anthony Azoff guilty of first degree murder. This sentence
carried with it a mandatory death penalty. His date of execution was set for September 12, 1894. At the pronouncement
of sentence Azoff remained defiant and indifferent, as he had throughout his trial. He was taken to San Quentin and put
on death row while his lawyer attempted an appeal.
Anthony Azoff Executed June 7, 1895.
While he was in prison a reporter from the San Francisco Chronicle was sent over to interview him. In his published
article the reporter expressed amazement at the state of mind which Azoff retained in his death cell.
"Anthony Azoff isn't at all conventional." He wrote, "When he is amused his eyes twinkle, and he gives such a grin. ...He
is positively cheerful, with a guilelessness that is quite childlike."
"You give the impression that you're rather delighted to be here."
5
�"Now that's just it," Azoff responded, beaming at being so well understood."I'm getting the best of it. This is better then
scraping for a living on the outside any day. Before I came here I had a dread of this place .... Instead, I have a fine room,
dry and clean and white as snow. And such beds. It's almost worth hanging to have a nice, soft place to lie in. I like my
room best in the evening. Then it seems so cozy and homelike. We light the lamp and read until 12 o'clock. Then we
blow it out, though the prison officers haven't said we must."
Soon all of his appeals had been exhausted and a new date for execution was set for June 7, 1895. Anthony Azoff was to
meet his death in the same resolute manner with which he had lived.
On the appointed day there were three men who were to be hanged. Azoff, Amelio Garcia, a murderer from Monterey
County, and Patrick Collins, who had killed a bank teller during a robbery in San Francisco. The three condemned men
were awakened at 7 o'clock and ate heartily of fruit, coffee, and bread. Afterwards Father Logan, a Catholic priest from
San Rafael, arrived at the prison and offered consolation to the three men. At 8:30 the three men bathed and donned
black trousers and dark shirts.
Meanwhile three rough wooden caskets were lined up beside the gallows, and a crowd of men, including Jack Harris, the
son of Detective Harris, were let into the prison courtyard to witness the executions. First to hang was Amelio Garcia. He
died "game" and his body was placed in the first of the caskets.
Next came Anthony Azoff. He mounted the steps to the gallows with a firm tread and looked confidently about him. The
knot of the noose was adjusted around his neck and a black hood slipped over his head.
Just before the trap was sprung he said simply,"Good-bye, boys. Here goes a brave man."
He had died with an air of defiance and braggadocio, displaying the courage for which he had always been noted. Azoff's
body was placed in another of the wooden coffins and later that day all three men were buried in unmarked graves at
the prison cemetery.
Epilogue
For many years there was a trophy case which sat in the far corner of the Sheriff's Office at the county courthouse on
Pacific Avenue in Santa Cruz. Prominently displayed in this case was the large, fearsome-looking, nickel-plated, 44caliber pistol which had been used by Anthony Azoff to kill Detective Len Harris on May 15, 1894. What became of this
pistol is unknown.
Sources
Copyright 1991 Phil Reader. Reproduced by permission of Phil Reader. Photograph courtesy of Phil Reader.
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information. However, it is not possible for the Library to completely verify the accuracy of individual articles obtained from a
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please contact the Webmaster.
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Anthony Azoff and the Murder of Detective Len Harris
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Reader, Phil
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Photograph courtesy of Phil Reader.
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1991
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Copyright 1991 Phil Reader. Reproduced by permission of Phil Reader.
Subject
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Azoff, Anthony
Harris, Leonard
Crime and Criminals-Burglary, Robbery, Larceny
Murder
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Boulder Creek
Crime and Criminals
-
https://history.santacruzpl.org/omeka/files/original/4dd2bcd2838c476666aff3ba06cd26ba.pdf
75d9a4245956e1c41f84d0903db05864
PDF Text
Text
"Charole":
The Life of Branciforte Bandido Faustino Lorenzana
By Phil Reader
Part I
In 1885 a reporter for the Santa Cruz Sentinel asked ex-sheriff Charlie Lincoln who was the most notorious
character that he had encountered during his tenure in office. After a short pause the former "boy sheriff"
reached back into his memory and called forth
"...Faustino Lorenzana, he made a regular business out of horse stealing, but we could never catch
him"... "He and one of the Rodriguez boys were concerned in the killing of Jack Sloan. This was in
1865."
Indeed this was the case, because no sheriff's posse or vigilante mob could ever take Lorenzana, and any
number of them tried. He fought it out with four Santa Cruz sheriffs: John T. Porter, Ambrose Calderwood,
Albert Jones, and Charlie Lincoln.
Even Matt Tarpy and his hooded vigilance committee trailed him around the countryside but none could ever
lay a hand on him. Sometimes operating with the Rodriguez brothers and sometimes in the company of his
infamous cousin Tiburcio Vasquez, he roamed throughout central California doing just about whatever he
pleased.
To the staid "yankees" of Santa Cruz he was a horse thief and murderer - plain and simple. His depredations
were not to be tolerated. After the Sloan killing the State of California offered a $500 reward for his capture
and the County of Santa Cruz added another $300, making him the most sought after man in the history of the
County.
However across the San Lorenzo River, to the Spanish people of the Pueblo de Branciforte he was a son, a
brother, a cousin, a childhood friend, and a neighbor. They secreted him in their homes when he was in the
area, and brought food and other supplies up to his many mountain hideouts. He was called "Charole," said to
mean the "lantern that leads."
In time he achieved a certain degree of stature as a hero and legendary bandit to the people of old
Branciforte. Some of the Spaniards even named their children after him. He was a game fighter, loyal to his
friends, and in the end, like most legendary bandits, he died with his boots on.
1
�But just what was he really? A hero? Legend? A good boy gone bad? Or a cold blooded killer? The answer to
this question may never be known because what he was depends upon whom you ask.
Faustino de Jesus Lorenzana was born January 15, 1835 at his parents adobe at Branciforte. He was the
eleventh child of Macedonio Lorenzana and Romualda Lorenzana y Vasquez.
His father was a full-blooded Menteranea Indian who had been born at Mexico City in 1787 (?)]. Orphaned as
a child, he was raised at the famous Lorenzana Orphanage in Mexico City. Like all other foundlings he was
given the surname Lorenzana, a practice which was quite common at the time.
On June 2, 1800 he sailed, in the company of several other children, from San Blas for Alta California on the
frigate Concepcion. Upon arrival he was placed in the home of Francisco Castro, a resident of San Jose. While
still in his teens he joined the Spanish Army and was stationed at the garrison in San Francisco. On June 8,
1816 he married Maria Romualda Vasquez at Mission Santa Clara. She was the daughter of Antonio Vasquez
and Maria Leocadia, an Indian neophyte of the Mission.
In 1828 the Lorenzana family moved to Branciforte where Macedonio served the pueblo in various capacities,
including secretary in 1835 and 1839, a member of the council in 1838, and second alcalde in 1845 and 1846.
Before his death in 1863, he sired sixteen children by Romualda.
Their son Faustino spent his childhood years in the company of his many brothers and cousins prowling about
Branciforte. The pueblo was a sleepy little village which was the center of activities for the numerous ranchos
which were spread out around it. The only formal education he received was from the padres at the small
Mission school across the river from Branciforte. Even this was scant and of a religious nature.
His real education came at the hands of the vaqueros who tended the vast herds of cattle roaming across the
area. From them he learned horsemanship, the use of a pistol, a riata, a branding iron, and the many other
arts and sciences of the rodeo. When he was old enough, he went to work on his father's farm next to
Branciforte Creek and at the Rodriguez' Ranchos in the Live Oak district.
The 1830s and 1840s were a good time for a Spanish boy to grow up in California. Indeed there was plenty of
hard work to be done, but what young Lorenzana enjoyed most were the weekends in the pueblo. There were
bear and bull fights which were held in a special ring down on the flats between Branciforte Creek and the San
Lorenzo River, and scrub races along the main street of the pueblo. Gambling on these events was always
heavy.
The horse races attracted many of the young vaqueros from all around the central
coast. One who rode over from Monterey was Faustino's cousin Tiburcio Vasquez.
He was a superb horseman and always a popular rider during the matches.
Weekends at the pueblo would invariably feature a fandango complete with it's
music, dancing, drinking, gambling, and general rough-housing. It was a special
occasion filled with gaiety and merriment where quite often knives were drawn in
anger as two young men squared off during the course of an argument over a card
game or the attentions of a young lady. Pride played a great part in such quarrels.
Tiburcio Vasquez
The Lorenzanas, like most of the young men of Branciforte, were a rough and
tumble lot, excitable, sometimes quick to anger, and always seeking an adventure.
2
�But they were a close knit family who always watched one another's backs and protected their own. Most of
the boys found themselves in trouble with the law at sometime. Usually for some petty offense which they
received a small fine or a few days in jail. But the eldest Jose Jesus was arrested twice on assault charges,
Facundo, a talented musician, for grand larceny and assault, and Juan who served six years in San Quentin for
the murder of George Wise at the Refugio Rancho in 1862. But it was Faustino who was to really to make a
name for himself.
His first known brush with the law came in December of 1859, when he was 24 years of age. Sheriff John T.
Porter was called over to Branciforte to break up a drunken brawl which was taking place at a Saturday night
fandango. As he stepped in with his pistol at the ready, all of the belligerents backed down except Faustino,
who was cursing loudly in Spanish. It was necessary for Porter and his men to jump Lorenzana and drag him
bodily off to jail. This was to be the only time that he would ever submit to arrest.
At the time, the jail was a small wooden building located at the upper plaza near the old Mission. It consisted
of two cells made of timbers about one foot thick and lined with sheet iron. There were no windows and only
one door, fitted with a large lock. The County did not employ a jailor, so the key to the jail was in the
possession of a citizen who would take the prisoners out to a restaurant twice a day for their meals.
While awaiting trial, Faustino Lorenzana and two fellow prisoners managed to pick the lock to their cells and
make good their escape. After several days of freedom he returned to his family's home at Branciforte where
he was recaptured and brought back to jail.
Part II
When the grand jury convened in early February, 1860, an indictment for assault with a deadly weapon was
found against him. The Lorenzana family hired the redoubtable Joe Skirm to represent Faustino in court. The
flamboyant attorney picked apart the indictment, claiming that when it was drawn up the defendant's
Christian name was incorrectly given, the place where the crime was supposedly committed was not stated,
nor was the weapon used in the alleged assault described. After these technical points were raised, the court
had no other option but to dismiss the charges. Lorenzana was a free man and he would never again see the
inside of a jail.
He then joined a band of horse thieves and cattle rustlers who were working the Monterey Bay area. Their
number included his cousin Tiburcio Vasquez, who had recently emerged from San Quentin where he served a
term for grand larceny. They drove their herds of stolen stock down to the southern counties where they were
sold, and during the return trip they would steal horses and cattle along the way and peddle them here. This
was to become Lorenzana's trade mark.
The year 1864 found Faustino and Vasquez in the Santa Clara Valley trying their hand at gambling and other
petty crimes among the miners at the New Almaden mines. On the night of June 4, 1864, they sat in a saloon
playing cards when Joseph Pelligrini, a butcher doing business at the Enriquita Mine, walked into the place.
The two men could see that the Italian was flush, so when he left the place they followed him home.
It was about 11 o'clock, while Pelligrini was preparing to retire for the night when Lorenzana and Vasquez
broke into the house. A terrible struggle ensued during which the butcher was shot and stabbed several times.
They robbed him of $400 and hurriedly left.
3
�The following morning the murder was discovered and Santa Clara County Sheriff John Hicks Adams was called
in. Adams, a very competent lawman, called for an inquest. At the hearing he
found that he needed an interpreter because none of those to be questioned
could speak English. The only people around who were bi-lingual, were none
other than Faustino Lorenzana and Tiburcio Vasquez, who they were called upon
to interpret.
Needless to say the inquest found that "the deceased came to his death from a
pistol bullet fired by some person or persons unknown." A few days later, Sheriff
Adams received information which led him to the conclusion that the murder had
been committed by Lorenzana and Vasquez. But he did not deem the evidence
sufficient to warrant an arrest and by then Vasquez had moved on to Sonoma
County and Lorenzana returned to Santa Cruz.
John Hicks Adams
Back home, Faustino divided his time between Branciforte and Whisky Hill, getting by as best he could. On
Wednesday, February 8, 1865, a fandango was held at the Juan Perez adobe which was located at the end of
Garfield Street on the east bank of the San Lorenzo River (near the present site of the County Government
Center). Among those attending the festivities were the Lorenzana and Rodriguez boys from the pueblo. Also
there was 25 year old Juan Arana, who lived in the Live Oak district above the gulch which now bears the
family name.
During the evening a fight broke out between Lorenzana and Arana. The latter pulled out a knife and slashed
Faustino across the shoulder and arm. Being unarmed, he wisely withdrew vowing revenge upon Arana.
However, he did not have to wait very long to carry out his threat because on the evening of Saturday,
February 11, he and two other men - his nephew Pedro Lorenzana, and Jose Rodriguez, a neighbor - rode out
to Arana Gulch and stationed themselves in a grove of trees next to the bridge at the bottom of the gulch.
Their plan was to ambush Juan Arana as he returned home after working in the woods.
Pedro was the 18 year old son of Jose Jesus Lorenzana, Faustino's eldest brother. He was a luckless boy who
would blindly follow his uncle anywhere and on any adventure. At 15, he had stolen a neighbor's horse to
attend a dance at Monterey and was subsequently arrested for grand larceny. But Pedro was freed when the
neighbor refused to press charges.
The other man who rode with them that night was Jose Rodriguez, son of Facundo and Guadalupe Rodriguez
and a grandson of Don Alejandro Rodriguez of Rancho Encinalito. At 18 he was already a handsome, strapping
lad standing well over six feet tall and weighing about two hundred pounds. He was both strong and smart,
and in his belt he carried two pistols.
At sometime between 8 and 9 o'clock they heard the clatter of horses' hoofs starting across the wooden
bridge. Peering out from behind their shelter, they were disappointed to see that it was not Juan Arana, but
two yankees who were passing by. So they pulled back and waited. The two riders were John W. Towne,
County Supervisor from the Soquel district, and his brother-in-law, Jack Sloan. As they were crossing the
bridge their horses were startled upon glimpsing the men in the trees.
"Who the hell are you?,” Sloan demanded of the three men.
4
�At this Faustino emerged from the trees, drew his revolver, and fired a warning shot into the air. The report of
the pistol sent the American's horses galloping up the hill and out of the gulch.
The Californios, realizing that they had now missed their chance at revenge, started back towards Branciforte.
After they had ridden about one hundred and fifty yards they heard a horseman behind them. It was Jack
Sloan.
When Towne and Sloan had finally recovered control over their mounts, they were near the rim of the gulch
where the lower road to Soquel Landing branched off. Then quite unexpectedly, Jack Sloan, a veteran of the
Mexican War, who was unarmed, decided to return. Towne, knowing that his companion was a foul-tempered
man, tried to persuade him from doing such a rash thing. But Sloan could not be swayed and returned to the
gulch alone.
Upon seeing the three men moving along the bottom of the creek bed, Sloan rode up and demanded to know
who they were. Getting no response, he began beating them with a coiled lariat, demanding that they identify
themselves.
Finally Faustino turned around with his revolver drawn and replied,
"You son of a bitch, I'll kill you anyhow."
But Sloan grabbed his arm, preventing him from firing.
"Help me boys!", shouted Lorenzana.
Jose Rodriguez was the first one into action. He rode over and shot Sloan twice, once in the chest and once in
the arm. The American fell from his horse freeing Lorenzana, who immediately fired a bullet into Sloan's groin.
It was a mortal wound and within fifteen minutes he bled to death. The assailants dashed back up the hill
towards Branciforte.
Part III
Word of the killing spread quickly through Santa Cruz and before long there was a large posse in the saddle led
by Sheriff Ambrose Calderwood and his deputies Albert Jones and Charlie Lincoln. They went out to Arana
Gulch, located the body and sent it back to town while they questioned some of the Californios in the Live Oak
district. From a farmer living along the Soquel Road, they learned the names of Jose Rodriguez, Faustino
Lorenzana, and Pedro Lorenzana.
Ambrose Calderwood
In the darkness of night, the posse, by now over a hundred men strong - heavily
armed and carrying lanterns - rode through Branciforte and stopped at the Rodriguez
adobe. The angry group was met at the door by Guadalupe Rodriguez. Her husband
Facundo was away working in the Santa Clara Valley at the time. Behind her stood six
small children, including her three sons, Narciso, Garcia, and Philadelphia. She was
well known to the members of the posse. Her maiden name had been Robles. She
was a daughter of Jose Antonio Robles, one of the first settlers of Branciforte and
sister to Avelino and Fulgencio Robles, wild young men who had met their deaths at
the end of a gun during an earlier decade. She was a fiercely protective mother who
had always pampered her handsome son, Jose.
5
�She disliked "gringos" and on this night she made no attempt to hide it. When they pushed their way into her
home, she charged them screaming, swinging, and kicking. Her young children also joined in the assault.
Guadalupe was bound and carried away to be tried later for attempted murder. Jose, found hiding in the back
of the house, was also taken and placed in a cell with his mother. It was a sight that the other children would
long remember.
Then the posse went next door to the home of Bernarda Juarez y Lorenzana and searched the adobe for the
two Lorenzanas. Not able find them there, they arrested Bernarda's son Pedro Juarez on the charge of being
an accessory to murder, claiming that he had helped the men escape.
They then continued on up into Blackburn Gulch to the ranch of Mattias Lorenzana just off of Vine Hill Road.
Mattias, a brother of Faustino's, was married to Maria Concepcion Rodriguez, eldest daughter of Facundo and
Guadalupe Rodriguez. Both were also arrested and hauled away, leaving five small children unattended. But
no sign of the two killers was found so the posse went back to town.
Most of the mob was still milling around the plaza when word was received that Faustino and Pedro
Lorenzana had been seen heading out across country towards the beach at San Andreas. Within minutes
Calderwood and Jones with a dozen hand-picked men were galloping along the Soquel Road in pursuit.
A short time later they were following the Lorenzana's trail up the beach for about a mile until it veered
northward, striking out across the farmlands. It quickly became obvious that the pair were heading towards
Whiskey Hill, so the posse hurried on. Later that afternoon they found Pedro Lorenzana hiding in an old adobe
near Corralitos. He surrendered without a fight and made a full confession on the
spot. He was then handcuffed and taken back to Santa Cruz where he joined the
others in jail.
Deputy Jones was dispatched to Whiskey Hill in an attempt to apprehend the other
outlaw, but he received no cooperation from the residents of the village.
Meanwhile Faustino had stolen a another horse and on this fresh mount sped
further ahead of his pursuer, so all that Jones got for his trouble was a glimpse of
him as he made his escape into the Santa Cruz Mountains.
There were seven prisoners now crowding into the small wooden jail up on
Deputy Albert Jones
Mission Hill. Sheriff Calderwood began to hear all kinds of rumors. Some said that
an attempt would be made by the local Californios to free the prisoners, while
others claimed that the Americans were planning to march on the jail and lynch Rodriguez and Lorenzana. To
prevent either of these from occurring, the sheriff decided to separate the killers. Jose Rodriguez was sent
over to the Santa Clara County jail where he would remain until his trial.
For the next few months emotions ran high around Santa Cruz County. The local newspapers printed the usual
number of bigoted articles which only served to fan the flames of vigilantism by pointing the finger of
suspicion at all "greasers" and urging the citizens to do what was necessary to rid the community of
"undesirable" elements. A vigilance committee under the leadership of Watsonville resident Matt Tarpy
prowled unchecked about the area terrorizing any poor Spaniard who happened to fall into their hands.
One day they caught Juan Arana on the Soquel Road and hauled him off of his horse and surrounded him with
guns drawn.
6
�"You're a god damn horse thief!", growled Tarpy.
He looked around at his men and then continued,
"He don't look much like the fellow we're after, boys, but let's string him up on general principles
anyhow, so if anymore horses are stolen nobody can say that this greaser did it, an if he should steal a
horse after we let him go we'd be blamed for it. What d'ye say, boys?"
Arana got down on his knees and begged for his life. In the back of the crowd he spied a man he had known
from childhood. The man implored his fellows to spare the young Spaniard, reasoning that nothing would be
gained by taking his life. Finally the vigilantes agreed to let him go.
Lawmen from up and down the State were on the lookout for Faustino Lorenzana. On March 18, California
Governor Frederick Low authorized a $500 reward for his capture and the County of Santa Cruz upped the
ante by offering a $300 bounty of its own. The $800 total made him the most sought-after bandit in the State
at the time.
The Rodriguez and Lorenzana families languished in jail for almost three months before their trials were finally
held during the May Session of the County Court. The first action taken by the jury was to indict Faustino
Lorenzana, Jose Rodriguez, and Pedro Lorenzana for the murder of Jack Sloan. Then Guadalupe Rodriguez was
tried for assault with intent to commit murder. The Jury found her not guilty after being out for only fifteen
minutes. Next, Pedro Juarez, charged as an accessory to murder, was tried and acquitted, but an indictment
for grand larceny was lodged against him when he was unable to produce a bill of sale for a horse found in his
possession when arrested. The panel declared him guilty and he was sentenced to a term of three years at San
Quentin. Finally all of the indictments against Mattias and Concepcion Lorenzana were dismissed on a motion
by District Attorney Edmund Pew.
Meanwhile, Pedro Lorenzana sat in his cell and waited as his lawyers were granted one postponement after
another. On the night of June 1, 1865, he and another prisoner, a slippery character named "Jim Bones" Allen
escaped from jail by sawing through the bars on the door. Lorenzana escorted Allen safely to the San Jose
Road (Graham Hill Road) before he returned willingly to jail.
About two weeks later, the jailor who was sleeping in a small room attached to the jail, was awakened by
Pedro, who was heard rattling the door to his cell and shouting that the jail was on fire. Upon investigation, it
was found that indeed the building was burning and the deputy had just enough time to release the
frightened inmate before the flames completely consumed the old jail. Sheriff Calderwood suspected arson
although he was never able to find any evidence to support that belief.
Pedro, who was the only prisoner at the time, was locked up in a room on the second floor of the Hugo Hihn
flat-iron building which was then being used as a temporary courthouse, and an armed guard was posted in
front of his door. One of those who was stationed there was Uriah Sloan, brother of the murdered man.
A few nights later during Sloan's shift a group of hooded men surged up the stairs and overpowered the guard
- who put up no resistance. The mob broke into Lorenzana's makeshift cell and dragged him down Willow
Street to the wharf. They tied a weight to his legs and threw him into the Bay. It was a clean operation, no
witnesses and no body.
7
�Part IV
The action of the vigilantes may have put an end to Pedro Lorenzana's life, but it also effectively ended the
murder case against Jose Rodriguez. They had hushed up the prosecution's only witness so that when his trial
was held, the jury found Rodriguez not guilty of the charge of murder without even retiring for deliberations.
No witness, no case. But this was not the last that Santa Cruz County was to hear from Jose Rodriguez.
Following his escape from the posse, Faustino Lorenzana lit out for southern San Benito County where he
went into hiding near the Panoche Valley in an area known as Vallecitos. This was a favorite hang out for a
number of the Spanish bandido gangs. From there, they could safely raid the ranches on both sides of the
Coast Range and the San Joaquin Valley, for seldom would a lawman dare to venture into this rugged territory.
A decade earlier, Joaquin Murrieta had brought his horse gangs to this hideout, and now Tiburcio Vasquez was
a frequent visitor.
It was a common practice among these outlaws to assume a gang name or a nickname. So many of them were
wanted men that it was deemed unwise to use their real names for fear of discovery. The nickname given to
Lorenzana at this time was "Charole", said to mean "the lantern that leads."
He rode with Vasquez, Procopio, Juan Soto and others throughout the region stealing every head of livestock
which they could get their hands on. A favorite target of the gangs was the Miller and Lux ranch which lay at
the foot of the Coast Range. The spread was so large that they did not seem to miss the many dozen heads of
cattle that the rustlers ran off.
Even though there was a price on his head, "Charole" would sneak back into Santa Cruz from time to time in
order to visit his family. On these occasions he would usually stay at the ranch of his brother Mattias. During
one such clandestine visit during the fall of 1865, he was holed up in an old cabin on the back side of the
ranch. Sheriff Ambrose Calderwood received an anonymous tip telling him where "Charole" could be found.
Wishing to collect the $800 in reward money, he rode up to the outlaw's lair.
It was dark by the time he arrived at the ranch and he found that the cabin was not lighted. Calderwood tied
his horse to a nearby tree and proceeded to edge his way across the porch. Drawing his pistol, he cautiously
entered the building. Suddenly Lorenzana pounced on him from out of the darkness and a fierce hand to hand
struggle occurred.
The sheriff squeezed off one shot before being struck repeatedly with a large knife. The bullet took effect as
"Charole" staggered during the attack. Unable to pull the trigger again, Calderwood swung the barrel again
and again making contact with his assailant. But the wounded outlaw completely overpowered him, knocking
him to the floor, and jamming the knife once more into his shoulder. By the time the lawman got to his feet,
Lorenzana was gone.
Defeated, Sheriff Calderwood made his way back to town with blood flowing from three deep knife wounds in
his body. It would be more than a month before he could get back on the job. The desperate encounter also
left him partially blind in one eye.
"Charole" remained in hiding up in the Santa Cruz Mountains while he recovered from the bullet wound in his
upper arm. His friends and family brought him food and ammunition, and kept him well supplied with
information on the latest movements by the local law enforcement officers. He let his hair grow long and
8
�disguised himself with a heavy beard. He made an occasional trip down to Vallecitos to sell the horses that he
would steal during his raids on the ranches around Santa Cruz and in the Pajaro Valley.
On the night of May 17, 1866, he corralled several horses and mules from the residence of the Widow Shearer
near Waddell Creek and drove them to his mountain camp above the Laguna district, north of Santa Cruz.
Upon getting a report of the crime, newly-elected sheriff Albert Jones, who knew Lorenzana by sight, decided
to try his hand at collecting the reward.
He rode up the coast and tracked the bandit for a couple of miles back into the hills. Upon rounding a sharp
turn in the narrow trail, he was taken by surprise when "Charole" suddenly stepped into the path, covering
him with a pistol. He ordered the sheriff to throw down his weapon and dismount.
The lawman hastily complied with the demands as Lorenzana continued to point the pistol in his direction.
Growling that he knew the sheriff was out to get him for the reward money, the desperado warned him never
to attempt it again.
"It is not my intention to be captured!" he said,
at the same time acknowledging that he had indeed shot and killed Jack Sloan. Then gathering up the
discarded arms, he brazenly mounted the sheriff's horse and rode away leaving the fortunate, and highly
embarrassed Al Jones to walk most of the way back to Santa Cruz.
During the summer of 1869, "Charole" was leading a gang of horse thieves and cutthroats in the Santa Clara
Valley. One day while driving a herd of stolen horses near the Alviso farm of John O'Hara, he spotted Mrs.
O'Hara standing in front of the house. On an impulse, he rode up, threw a lasso around her waist, and began
to drag the hapless woman down the road.
She probably would have died except for the fact that her cries for help were heard by her husband who
happened to be working in a nearby field. He swiftly jumped on his horse and dashed after them firing as he
rode. One of the bullets struck Lorenzana in the chest, causing him to drop the rope.
"Charole" beat a hasty retreat down to the Panoche Valley where he quickly recovered from the wound, the
pistol ball lodging under the skin near the breast bone. He moved his operations to Santa Barbara County and
went right back to work stealing livestock.
These activities quickly gained him the animosity of all the neighboring ranchers, especially that of Juan
Rodrigues of Rancho La Carpenteria. The two men quarreled loudly whenever they met. Lorenzana boasted
that he was going to catch Rodrigues alone sometime and kill him.
During the first week of August, 1870, "Charole" made one last trip up to the Santa Clara Valley. He returned
driving about twenty head of the finest horses he could siphon from herds in the area. However, he didn't
know that he was being followed back to Santa Barbara by a detective from San Jose.
The lawmen went to the court of Justice Cooley and had a warrant issued for the arrest of Faustino Lorenzana
on a charge of grand larceny. It was then given to Deputy O. N. Ames to attempt to make the arrest.
Early in the morning of August 29, 1870, Deputy Ames gathered together a posse of eight men, who armed
themselves and set out after their quarry. They had been informed by one of the vaqueros from La
Carpenteria that the desperado had attended an all night fandango at Montecito about three miles south of
9
�Santa Barbara. After drinking heavily, he had gone up to a ravine near a ranch known as the "Grape Vine" and
passed out under a tree.
When the posse arrived at the spot he was still asleep, but upon their approach he bolted upright and drew
the two pistols that he carried in his belt. A running gun battle ensued as "Charole" backed up the ravine for
about two hundred yards while exchanging shots with his pursuers. Just as he reached the bushes, he was hit
squarely in the head with a bullet and fell over dead.
Later when the coroner examined the lifeless body, he found that the outlaw had been hit no less then sixteen
times. He was covered with scars from numerous old knife fights and bullet wounds. "Charole" was then
buried in an unmarked grave on the very spot where he had fallen. So it was that Faustino Lorenzana, the
greatest of Los Bandidos de Branciforte, died with his boots on, fulfilling his pledge not to be taken alive.
But the Lorenzana story does not end here. There is a strange epilogue to this tale which occurred almost
thirty years after the killing of Jack Sloan at Arana Gulch.
On the morning of July 17, 1895, a lady and her daughter, residents of the Live Oak district, were driving their
buggy into town. While they were crossing the bridge at the bottom of Arana Gulch they witnessed the
apparition of a man walk across the road and then disappear. Mother and daughter were startled and pale
with excitement when they arrived in Santa Cruz and told their story.
Among those listening to them describe the man that they had seen and the clothes that he wore was Thomas
A.Sweeney. Mr. Sweeney had been a member of the Coroner's Jury which had investigated the slaying of Jack
Sloan on February 11, 1865. From their description, he recognized the apparition as the ghost of Jack Sloan.
The local newspapers picked up on the story and ran a whole series of front page articles which included
interviews with old timers who remembered Sloan and his three killers. It was in one of these articles that "a
pioneer" told, for the first time, how the vigilantes had disposed of Pedro Lorenzana.
Over the intervening years, as the century turned and one generation of Santa Cruzans replaced another, the
memories of those exciting events became obscured by the passage of time.
Source
It Is Not My Intention to Be Captured. Copyright 1991 Phil Reader. Reproduced with the permission of Phil
Reader. Photographs courtesy of Phil Reader.
It is the library’s intent to provide accurate information, however, it is not possible for the library to completely
verify the accuracy of all information. If you believe that factual statements in a local history article are
incorrect and can provide documentation, please contact the library.
10
�
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AR-193
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"Charole": The Life of Branciforte Bandido Faustino Lorenzana
Subject
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Faustino, Lorenzana
Branciforte
Vasquez, Tiburcio
Crime and Criminals-Vigilantism
Sheriffs
Trials
Murder
Crime and Criminals-Burglary, Robbery, Larceny
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Reader, Phil
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It Is Not My Intention to be Captured. Phil Reader, 1991.
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Santa Cruz Public Libraries
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1991
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Santa Cruz (County)
1860s
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En
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ARTICLE
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Copyright 1991 Phil Reader. Reproduced with the permission of Phil Reader. Photographs courtesy of Phil Reader.
Crime and Criminals
Law Enforcement
-
https://history.santacruzpl.org/omeka/files/original/de80b293391129d77d1e511db1db9234.pdf
a85f687d0c8528b09388fc0216c683cb
PDF Text
Text
A Howling Wilderness:
Stagecoach Days in the Mountains
By Stephen Payne
Citations in the text refer to the Selected Bibliography, Local History Article AR-219.
The roads over the Santa Cruz Mountains served not only the settlers and loggers living and
working on the summit, but also provided the means by which people could travel to and from
Santa Cruz or San Jose via the stagecoach. The early organized road companies quickly saw the
benefit of stage travel and encouraged use by the various stage companies of the day.
The first stagecoach line in California was established by John Whistman in the autumn of 1849.
This line operated between San Francisco and San Jose, with the latter city serving as its
headquarters. The fare for the nine hour trip was two ounces of gold or $32.00. The line ran an
old French omnibus with mules and mustangs pulling the coach. With the first winter rain the
operation came to a halt due to the poor road conditions. During the winter the line ran from
San Jose to Alviso, where passengers caught the ferry to San Francisco. With spring weather the
line went back to full service between San Francisco and San Jose. (36:255-256; 45:236-237;
55:Vol. VII,151)
As the years progressed other entrepreneurs established lines throughout California. The first
service connecting Santa Cruz and San Jose was established in 1854. The line ran from Santa
Cruz to San Juan Bautista, then on to San Jose. Passengers going on to San Francisco stayed
overnight before continuing on to the steamboat landing at Alviso. This line soon had an
opposition line running from Santa Cruz to Soquel, then to Watsonville and over the Pajaro
Turnpike mountain road into Gilroy and on to San Jose. (49:27; 62:477)
In 1855 the California Stage Company was awarded the United States mail contract between
San Jose and Santa Cruz, which paid $1,000 annually. The California Stage Company's fare was
$5.00 from Santa Cruz to San Francisco. (5:231; 66:94) The California Stage Company went out
�of business on March 1, 1855, but local employees in Santa Cruz formed the Pacific Express
Company, operating the same route from Santa Cruz to San Francisco. (66:125)
Another stage route to San Jose was established in 1857. This route started in downtown Santa
Cruz, crossed the San Lorenzo River at the Water Street Bridge and went up Graham Grade,
past where the Pasatiempo Golf Course is now located, to Abraham Hendricks' stage stop in
Scotts Valley. At Hendricks' two horses were added to the four-horse team for the journey up
the mountain grade to Station Ranch, owned by Charles Christopher Martin, and then on up the
mountain to Mountain Charley's stage stop, owned by Charles McKiernan. (62:477) From
Mountain Charley's the route went down the mountain to Patchen, Alma, Lexington (where the
two additional horses were left off), Los Gatos, and on to San Jose.
In 1858 Frederic A. Hihn joined together with other Santa Cruz businessmen to form a joint
stock stage company. The new stage route went from Santa Cruz to Soquel, then up the San
Jose-Soquel Road to "Bonny Blink" Hotel at Terrace Grove Road. From there the stage had
another stop less than a mile up the road at the old Hotel de Redwood. (62:477) From this point
the line went over the Morrell Cut-off to Summit Road and on to Patchen. From there it
followed the stage route to San Jose. One stage line ran daily, while the other ran tri-weekly
carrying the mail. (5:250 fn.24, 266)
A description of the early stage drivers' duties was written by Lucy Foster Sexton:
"The stages stopped at the towns with post offices, leaving the mail in boxes
between. Driving up to farmers' boxes on tall polls, the bundles were thrown in, much
as it is done on the rail road. The school children furnished the delivery."
These early stages were "gaudily painted" and pulled by four horses which were changed every
fifteen miles at a saloon or hotel, and handled by lively drivers. (37:161)
In 1850 Warren Hall and Jared B. Crandall bought out Whistman's stage line. The new owners
purchased Mud-wagons and horses from William Beeks who had brought them across the
plains. (Mudwagons were light weight coaches designed for the winter roads, not for comfort.)
(36:256) The following year Hall traveled to Concord, New Hampshire, and purchased several
Concord coaches from the Abbott-Downing Company. These new coaches were added to Hall's
and Crandall's stage line because the earlier coaches were not much more than buckboard
wagons of various sizes and descriptions. Although the Concord coaches were the latest
innovation in travel, the coaches were too heavy for winter roads, which were hardly more than
one mud hole after another. During the winter months the mud wagons were used even
though many of the mountain roads were totally impassable. The Concord coaches (For a
detailed description of these coaches see 35:392-393.) were used in the spring after the roads
dried out, and in the summer until the first autumn rains came. (36:258,260 fn. 17)
The Concord coaches seated nine passengers on the inside and eight on top. In good weather
the favored position was next to the colorful driver. Those so honored were expected to treat
�the driver with drinks and cigars on the road. At the stations the drivers drank for free, although
the drivers were seldom drunk on the road. They were considered to be sober and dependable
men. (35:392-393; 36:257,259 fn. 13)
N. C. Adams, one of the most accommodating drivers on the Santa Cruz Mountain route, while
making up for lost time one day was stopped by a lady, who, after calling to him went back into
her house. Thinking that the woman was going to fetch a package, Adams waited. After five
minutes, Adams climbed off the stage and knocked at the door, calling out,
"Madame, ain't you pretty near ready?"
Hurrying to the door the embarrassed woman replied,
"Oh, Mr. Driver, I ain't going on the stage, but I want to send a roll of butter to San
Jose and it's nearly come. Won't you wait till I finish it?"
With that, Adams swallowed a quid of tobacco to distract his own attention, and waited.
Another driver, Sid Conover, had the self-appointed duty of supplying stamps to the ladies on
his route, who "'didn't have a stamp in the house. " (44:81)
One of the most famous drivers on the mountain route was Charley Parkhurst, who drove over
the mountain roads about 1868. The story of this driver is well known. Like all stage drivers,
Parkhurst wore a heavy muffler, gloves, a buffalo skin coat and cap, and blue jeans-turned up to
reveal cuffs of an expensive pair of trousers worn under the jeans. Also, like other drivers,
Parkhurst had a sharp throaty whistle, used like a horn to warn others that the stage was just
around a sharp corner. For these reasons she was able to hide her identity until her death.
(38:6/24/1934)
The drive over the Santa Cruz Mountains was more than merely a means of conveyance from
one point to another. The ride was also a form of entertainment, similar to rafting down a river
or other dangerous sports today. The ride was described in the May 1873 issue of Scribner's
Monthly by Susan Coolidge:
"From San Jose, a day's staging over the summit of the Coast Range brings you to
Santa Cruz, the favorite watering-place of California. I would advise any one with a few
spare day's at command, to take this excursion, if only for the sake of the ride over the
mountain, which is wonderfully fine. Flower-lovers should not fail to do so, for such
roses, geraniums, jeasamines, and passion-flowers grow nowhere else as run riot in
every little garden in Santa Cruz." (19)
Another description of the mountain route appeared in the Santa Cruz Sentinel on May 16,
1874, titled "The Mountain Ride:"
�"The ride across the Santa Cruz Mountains is one of the most attractive stage trips in
California. The roads from Santa Clara to Santa Cruz command some very picturesque
views. . . . Ward & Colegrove's Concord coaches meet the morning train from San
Francisco at Santa Clara. Passengers reach Santa Cruz in time for dinner the same day.
From Santa Clara depot to the base of the Mountains at Santa Cruz Gap, the route lays
across one of the most fascinating portions of the Santa Clara Valley. . . . The passage
through Santa Cruz Gap introduces a change in the scene. . . . The Gap looks like a weird
canyon both walls of which are rocky and rugged. It is a slight grade for the coach and
the six horses have an easy thing of it climbing up the timber skirted slopes. . . . On the
summit fourteen miles from Santa Clara and just before reaching the well-known abode
of Mountain Charley, the landscape expands and stretches out to such proportions that
the eye is lost in the vastness of the scene. Far below, over the tops of the redwood
trees an enchanting view of the Bay of Monterey is obtained. It is the distant silver lining
to a cloud of forest-crowned hills. The ride now becomes exciting. Ward, a veteran
among California stage coach veterans, handles the reins over six splendid and surefooted animals. Under his skillful guidance these horses seem to fly as they whirl the
coach down steep hills, and around the shortest of curves. His partner Colegrove, drives
the stage on the alternate days, and his fame as a driver is not second to Ward's. Both
are artists in their time and with either on the box there is no danger on the
mountainous path."(27)
The coaches, horses, and drivers that traveled the Santa Cruz Mountain stage routes from the
1850's to the 1880's were part of a wild and exciting era. Two of the drivers mentioned in the
last account left memoirs, Henry C. Ward and George Lewis Colegrove. Ward's account deals
with other phases of early California staging, but Colegrove's account as both a stage driver and
later as a conductor on the South Pacific Coast Railroad offers a look back to the stagecoach
days in the Santa Cruz Mountains. A look at his life offers a generalized glimpse of what all
other stage drivers' lives were like during the stagecoach era in California.
George Lewis Colegrove was born in the Dundee area of McHenry County, Illinois, on March 29,
1843. When he was seven, George's father, John Smith Colegrove, left his family and went to
the gold fields in California. John Colegrove eventually settled near Dutch Flat, California. At
twelve, young Colegrove went to live with an uncle, Louis Holdridge, with whom he lived until
he was eighteen. Leaving his uncle's home, George traveled to Cedar Rapids, Iowa, where he
worked in a livery stable. With the onset of the Civil War, Colegrove joined the Union Army, but
he broke his leg and was left behind when his company went off to war. In March 1863,
Colegrove drove the lead wagon in an emigrant wagon train traveling to California.
Upon reaching California, Colegrove worked as a teamster in San Francisco (1:ii-iii) until July
1869, when he hired on as a driver for the Santa Cruz and San Jose Stage Line. In the company
of the line's owner, Billy Reynolds, Colegrove first drove a stage over the Santa Cruz Mountains
on July 15, 1869. The stage left Santa Clara with four horses, stopping at Lexington where the
company had a bar, to add two more horses for the ascent of the mountain. At the Scotts
�Valley Station the additional horses were left and the stage continued on to Santa Cruz. (1:4345)
A few months later Reynolds sold his stage company to McFarlane and his son, William "Bill"
McFarlane, who ran the line for his father. The station agent, Henry Whinery (or Winnery), at
Santa Clara was too set in his ways to make changes suggested by the McFarlanes. After an
argument Whinery left. Traveling to Santa Cruz, where he had many friends, Whinery formed a
new joint stock company. The largest shareholder was Charles McKiernan, the owner of the toll
road at the summit. One of the drivers, Cambridge, who had crossed the plains with Colegrove,
quit the McFarlanes and went to work for Whinery's new company. (1:45-47)
With the new competition, McFarlane was forced to lower his fares from $2.50 down to $1.00,
and a price war ensued. Although both companies were carrying full loads of passengers, they
were both losing money. Still the fight went on. (1:47-48)
As Charles McKiernan was the largest shareholder in the opposition line he had had to pay most
of the losses during the past year. He was anxious to end the war as the only revenue he had
was what money he could make off his toll road. At first, this did not matter because the
McFarlanes were paying most of that money, since they had to use the road for their stage
operations, paying $2.00 a day. But one day McFarlane Senior had talked with McKiernan in
town and told him that it was not fair for the McFarlanes to be subsidizing the opposition.
McFarlane met with the settlers along the old San Jose-Soquel Road and together they fixed up
the road and bridges, thus abandoning McKiernan's toll road.
After a year of the price war there existed bitter feelings on both sides. During this time
Colegrove was living with the McFarlanes. One morning as the men were having breakfast
Charles McKiernan came down from his ranch to talk over the situation:
"Now, Mr. McFarlane, it has been an awful long hard fight. I think it is time we quit it.
I have a proposition that I would like to have you interested in. I would like to
consolidate these lines and make it a joint stock company. We would take one side off
and put the fare up and make it pay. We have lost money enough."
After McKiernan left the breakfast meeting, Colegrove told McFarlane Senior that he did not
feel that they should consolidate: "If you stay with it and do not consolidate with them they will
quit the business in the next month or six weeks." Colegrove then offered to work for nothing,
but, in the end, the lines were consolidated.
Shortly after the lines were consolidated the McFarlanes were forced out of the business
altogether, leaving Colegrove without a job. (1:48-5 1) After a short camping trip in the Boulder
Creek area of the Santa Cruz Mountains, Colegrove went into San Jose and talked to William
"Uncle Billy" Hall, the second operator of a stage line in California and the first to use Concord
coaches. Colegrove discussed the feasibility of starting, another opposition line to that of
Whinery and McKiernan.
�Hall, who had disapproved of Whinery and McKiernan's practice of forcing the McFarlanes out
of business, told Colegrove that he still had several horses and a Concord coach. Hall agreed to
let Colegrove use the stock and equipment for free as long as Hall's name was not mentioned.
With this, Colegrove started up an opposition line with Thomas Mann as an alternate driver.
Although Colegrove lowered the fare to $1.00 for travel on the new Pioneer Stage Line, from
San Jose to Santa Cruz, the Mountain Charley Stage Line did not follow suit. Whinery and
McKiernan felt that, since they were already established and known, they had no worry from
competition. Within a month Colegrove had to add an additional coach, and shortly after that
Colegrove bought another Concord from a man in Watsonville for $225. (1:58-78)
In the spring of 1872, having lost too much money, McKiernan talked to Santa Cruz Sheriff
Charles Lincoln about running the stage line. Lincoln told McKiernan that he would think about
the offer, then he went to see Colegrove. Posing as the new owner, Lincoln told Colegrove that
he had bought the line for $3,000 and would like to cooperate with Colegrove. The two men
agreed to each run one stage apiece. The arrangement went well until November 1872, when
business began to slacken. Lincoln decided that he did not want to run the line and gave it back
to McKiernan. This event put McKiernan in a tight spot for Colegrove now learned that he had
been deceived and was ready for another fight. In the end McKiernan decided to quit the stage
business. (1:78-83)
That winter, 1872-1873, was so wet that by the end of December Colegrove was forced to
curtail operations over the mountain route, as it had turned into a series of mud holes. In
January 1873, Colegrove, along with a new partner, Henry C. Ward---an old stage hand in
California---started an opposition line to the Watsonville Stage Line between Santa Cruz and
Watsonville. Within a few months the older Watsonville Stage Line bought Colegrove and Ward
out, rather than compete against their $.50 fare.(1:90-93)
After selling out to the Watsonville line, Colegrove and Ward met with Charles McKiernan to
discuss the reopening of the Santa Cruz to San Jose stage line. Colegrove and Ward agreed to
buy out McKiernan's stage line for $3,000; both men put up $1,000 cash and a $500 note. In
May 1873, the Pioneer Stage Line again served customers over the Santa Cruz Mountains.
(1:93-94)
On the spring morning of April 1, 1874, while backing out an eleven passenger mud-wagon
from the Pioneer Stage Line's barn in San Jose, Henry Ward ran a wheel over his foot crushing
his big toe. Unable to make the passenger and mail run from San Jose to Santa Cruz, Ward
enlisted the help of John Pursey Smith, an experienced stage driver who knew the dangers of
the Santa Cruz Mountain road. (1:65)
That afternoon, at a quarter to three, as the four horse team was walking up a hill about a half
mile from the stage stop (and United States Post Office) at Patchen, a man, his face covered by
a blue flannel mask, stepped out in front of the stage. Pointing a double-barreled shotgun at
Smith, the highwayman ordered the stage to stop and told Smith to
�"Throw out that Express box."
Looking down the barrels of the shotgun the frightened driver had the unpleasant duty of
explaining to the bandit:
"We don't carry any express box. It goes around by Watsonville."
Not believing the driver's story, the bandit again demanded the express box. As the driver tried
to repeat his explanation, a passenger, Mrs. J. M. Smith, also told the bandit that the express
box was not aboard.
"Well, give me that mail sack," the road agent demanded.
Smith quickly threw down the two mail sacks, one destined for Patchen and the other for Santa
Cruz. The bandit kicked the two bags aside saying that he guessed that there would be nothing
of interest in them and, as he had come for money, the passengers would have to do instead.
Some of the passengers had managed to hide most of their valuables when they realized what
was happening. One woman, a Mrs. Canny of San Jose, simply refused to part with her
valuables. All the bandit received was $45 from the unfortunate stage riders. After securing the
money and valuables the bandit tossed the mail sacks back to the driver and allowed the stage
to proceed on to Patchen and Santa Cruz.
After arriving in Santa Cruz, Smith immediately telegraphed the stage office in San Jose. George
Colegrove received the message and, while showing the message to Ward, asked him,
"Do you think that is right, or someone giving us an April Fool?"
"No, I think it is on the level," replied Ward.
After discussing the matter the two stage men decided not to press the issue, "because," as
Colegrove explained, "if it gets out it will hurt our travel."
But word of the robbery did get out and on his next regular run to Santa Cruz, Colegrove was
asked by a townsman,
"You have stage robbers on your route, have you?"
To which Colegrove replied, "It seems like it. It didn't amount to much." (1:65-67;
33:4/4/1884)
The rest of April went by without any further incident until the end of the month when
Colegrove's mother and brother came to San Jose from Dutch Flat, California, to visit him.
�Colegrove decided to take a few days off work to show his family around Big Basin, near
Boulder Creek. Contacting an old employer of his, Colegrove asked William (Bill) McFarlane if he
would drive the stage.
Everything started out well. Colegrove gave his mother and brother seats on top of the stage,
where they could enjoy the mountain scenery. Upon arriving in Santa Cruz Colegrove turned
the operation over to McFarlane. On the next day McFarlane took the stage over the mountains
to San Jose on an uneventful trip.
On April 28, McFarlane was driving the stage back over the mountains to Santa Cruz. At twenty
minutes to two in the afternoon the stage was five miles above Lexington on an uphill grade
that forced the horses to walk. As the stage was passing a long pile of cord wood beside the
road, out stepped two armed highwaymen. One of the road agents blocked the rear of the
stage and the other stood in front of the horses. Both men were carrying double-barreled
shotguns and both had Bowie knives dangling from their wrists on leather thongs. The robbers
had masks of knitted cloth over their heads with slits cut out for eyes and mouths.
The highwayman in front of the stage called to the driver,
"Didn't I tell you to stop. Now stop or I'll-"
"Oh, did you, if its 'stop' here goes---Whoa!" replied McFarlane as he reined up the
leading horses.
As the bandit in front kept his shotgun trained on McFarlane and the passenger riding on top,
the other bandit appeared at the window,
"Now hand out your wallets dam'd (sic) quick," he demanded, taping the window
ledge with his shotgun for emphasis.
Thrusting his hand with the dangling knife attached into the coach,the robber took the
valuables and money from the frightened passengers.
The passengers were reluctant to part with their wallets, giving instead their pocket change.
Seeing this, the road agent snapped at them,
"That won't do. Pass out your wallets."
Collecting the wallets, the bandit again made a demand, "Now let's have your
watches."
While this was going on inside the coach, the passenger sitting on top managed to hide $60
under the cushioned seat. To divert attention McFarlane remarked,
�"Boys, this is pretty rough on us, stopping our stage twice in one month."
Receiving no response from the highwaymen, McFarlane continued,
"This is the first time I've been stopped."
"Well then, it's a stand-off between us," replied the masked man at the front, "This is
the first time we've ever stopped anyone."
After finishing with the inside passengers, the other bandit turned his attention to the man
sitting with the driver.
"Pass down your coin, sir," he demanded.
But getting only seventy-five cents did not satisfy him.
"Oh, you've got more money than this. Get down from there, so that I can go through you."
As the passenger stood up the robber caught sight of a valuable gold English watch (worth over
$100). After taking the watch the bandit again demanded that the passenger step down, but at
this point McFarlane had had enough and told the highwaymen,
"Boys, it's getting late and I'm behind time."
As the horses started to move, one of the road agents said, "Well, I guess you'd better go on."
By the time the passengers disembarked from the stage in Santa Cruz, Sheriff Robert Orton had
arrived at the stage stop. Discussing the situation with Colegrove, who had been waiting for the
stage with his family, Orton asked Colegrove,
"I guess we will have to get out and get them or they will drive the travel all off the
road. What do you think we had better do about it?"
"I think we ought to start out tonight to look for them and cover all these roads by
Soquel and by the stage road, by Mt. Charley's and the Saratoga road. If we don't they
will work their way into some town and, after they get into some town, it is all off. You
can't get them. If you get them before they get to town they will have some of the
things on them."
The Sheriff quickly formed a posse and by that evening three groups set out from Santa Cruz to
look for the highwaymen. Deputy Sheriff Jackson Sylva and Frank Curtis went to Felton and
then up the Zayante Creek toward the Summit. Remington Getchel and John Acorn (or Aiken)
traveled to Soquel and then up the old San Jose-Soquel Road to the Summit. Sheriff Orton and
Colegrove took the main stage route through Scotts Valley and up to Mountain Charley's.
�Before leaving Santa Cruz, Sheriff Orton telegraphed San Jose and advised Sheriff John H.
Adams of the situation, arranging to meet with Adams' posse at Patchen.
Colegrove and Orton arrived at Mountain Charley's toll gate at eleven o'clock that night and, as
Colegrove got off the buggy to open the gate, he asked the Sheriff,
"Do you think we had better wake them up?"
"I don't know," the Sheriff replied, "I don't think I would disturb them."
As Orton and Colegrove had the shortest distance to travel, they reached Patchen first and
proceeded to search the cabins on the road to Lexington. At a cabin owned by James Bryant the
Sheriff arrested two men, but later released them.
When Getchel and Acorn traveling from Soquel arrived, they reported to Sheriff Orton that they
had seen nothing of the bandits. One of the local Patchen residents said that a friend living on
the Los Gatos Creek had seen two men with shotguns in the area. Within a few minutes Sheriff
Adams and the Santa Clara posse arrived and reported that someone else had reported two
men by the creek area.
Feeling sure that these men might be the robbers, the posse set out for the Los Gatos Canyon,
about three miles northeast of Patchen. Stopping at a wood-cutters camp near Forest Grove at
three or four in the morning, Colegrove asked if they had seen the bandits.
"Why there were two men by here just about sundown. Both of them had shotguns. Maybe
they are the ones-" replied the wood-cutter.
Before setting out the posse rested and had some breakfast. After eating, the posse went as far
up the creek as they could with the buggy and then continued up the canyon on foot. Coming
onto a cabin, Sheriff Orton had his men surround the place. Just then a man came out of the
cabin. Seeing Colegrove and Sheriff Adams the startled man turned toward the cabin; but with
the rest of the posse in position all around his place the outnumbered man gave up.
Under questioning, the man shook like a leaf, but denied any part in the robbery or to having
seen anyone during the day. Although Colegrove thought that the man was telling the truth,
especially since the only weapon found in the cabin was an old rusty six-shooter, to be certain,
the posse took him with them back to Patchen, where he could be identified by local residents.
During this time Deputy Sheriff Sylva and Frank Curtis had traveled to Felton where George
Newell joined them. The posse was joined by a Californio named Martin further up the Zayante
Canyon. Martin acted as their guide for the rest of the trip. Traveling farther up the mountain,
the posse questioned several people before arriving at Mountain Charley's at three-thirty in the
morning. Waking up McKiernan, the men learned that he had seen two men shooting at a
�squirrel on his ranch earlier that day. When McKiernan had called out to them, he received no
reply as the men rode on.
Upon hearing this account, Sylva's posse, along with McKiernan, went after the squirrelshooters. Tracking the men through the mountains to Jones' Creek, four miles from Saratoga,
the posse sent Martin down to the toll gate on the Saratoga-Boulder Creek Road to see if their
prey had escaped into the valley. Learning that the men at the toll gate had seen no one, the
posse continued in its search and soon arrived at an old cabin. The dilapidated cabin had last
been used as a cattle barn.
Suspecting that the robbers might be in the cabin, the posse surrounded the place. As they
were getting into position, one of the highwaymen saw what was happening and shot at the
posse with a pistol. The posse returned the fire but did no damage. Charles McKiernan, who
had brought his old Henry hunting rifle with him, circled around to a part of the cabin that was
missing some boards and called in at the bandits,
"Hello, fellows, what are you doing there? Come out here."
"We are not coming out," was the reply.
"Come out, or I will shoot," McKiernan warned.
At this point, the men jumped up and one of them went for his gun. McKiernan again ordered
them to stop, but the road agents were intent on a shootout and McKiernan shot. The ball
grazed the cheek of one of the highwaymen and lodged itself in the other one's shoulder. With
that the fight was over and the men gave up.
The posse marched the highwaymen back to McKiernan's ranch. After arriving at the ranch and
while they were waiting for Sheriff Adams to arrive from Patchen, one of the bandits boasted,
"Yes, a hell of a lot of heroes you are. I would like to be turned loose and I would
make short work of you. That cockeyed fellow with the rifle was the only one I was
afraid of."
The bandit was still defiant a few days later when a reporter from the San Jose Weekly Mercury
interviewed him in the Santa Clara County Jail:
"We wouldn't have surrendered had it not been for that blasted Henry rifle which that
one-eyed chap "Mountain Charley" carried. I was raising my gun to fire, when he let fly
with his rifle. . . Had it not been for that we would have made a break, and they never
would have taken us. I didn't care a continental for the pistols as long as we had our
shot guns, and we would have made it warm for them. As it was we acted sensibly, and
'chucked over our chips.'"
�The bandit who did most of the talking was Albert P. Hamilton, known in San Francisco as a
burglar who had served time in San Quentin. Hamilton made the remark that he would get
McKiernan for capturing him. After a trial, Hamilton, along with Peter Carr, the other bandit,
was sentenced to ten years in San Quentin, but, after only six or seven months, Hamilton
escaped prison with two murderers.
When Charles McKiernan learned of Hamilton's unexpected freedom he was understandably
uneasy, especially since it was known that Hamilton had a girlfriend in nearby Saratoga. Six
months later the San Francisco police captured Hamilton in San Francisco after he returned on a
ship from Seattle, Washington, and McKiernan's worries were over.
The other bandit, Peter Carr, was instrumental in fighting a fire at San Quentin and due to this
action and his general good behavior Carr received a reprieve by Governor William Irwin. (1:6774; 33:5/2/1874; 32;29)
These two men were the only road agents active in the Santa Cruz Mountains. But, although
the highwaymen were captured, the regular troubles of the stage line were not over. On the
day after the capture of the bandits, while the team hitched to the stagecoach was being
watered by the driver at the Lexington stage stop, one of the horses bit another horse and the
whole team ran away towing the stage. The passengers sitting inside managed to jump to
safety, but a woman sitting on top kept her seat too long and when she finally jumped off the
stage she suffered a broken leg. The team kept going until the coach was overturned and all
came to a dusty, grinding, crushing stop. (33:5 / 2 /1874)
During the winter of 1874, Ward and Colegrove decided to phase out the large Concord
coaches and purchase new Yosemite wagons made in San Francisco. The new coaches seated
thirteen passengers, all facing forward, and had a "sunshine top," a canvas that could be rolled
back. The passengers enjoyed the new coaches, as they could see the scenery better. (1: 102104)
In 1874 Ward left the stage business to join a Wild West show, but two months later he
returned to San Jose. Shortly after Ward returned the Pioneer Stage Line was broken up, as
Colegrove was peeved at Ward for leaving. Ward stored one of the Concord coaches at William
Hall's barn. Fifty years later it was discovered and given to the Wells-Fargo Museum at San
Francisco. On that occasion George Colegrove drove the stage into the museum. (1: 104-105)
During the spring of 1878, as the new narrow-gauge railroad from Alameda to Santa Cruz was
nearing completion as far as Los Gatos, Colegrove met with Alfred E. "Hog" Davis, the president
of the South Pacific Coast Railroad. Davis asked Colegrove to run a "jumper service" from
Wright's tunnel over the mountains to Felton. This arrangement was to last until the tunneling
was completed through the mountains.(1: 106-107)
Colegrove agreed to work for Davis and ran the "jumper service" for a year before Davis again
met with him in April 1879. At this meeting Davis asked Colegrove to work as a conductor on
�the railroad. On August 22, 1879, Colegrove started to work for the railroad, although he still
owned the stage line, which was run by John Dowd and Chris Coffin.
On May 1, 1880, the South Pacific Coast Railroad began direct service from Alameda to Santa
Cruz. Although the first run ended in disaster as the train ran off the track near Rincon, it
signaled the end of the stagecoach era in the Santa Cruz Mountains. (1: 110, 110 fn. 10)
Source
Excerpted from Payne, Stephen Michael. A Howling Wilderness: a History of the Summit Road
Area of the Santa Cruz Mountains 1850-1906. Santa Cruz, CA: Loma Prieta Publishing, 1978.
Copyright 1978 Stephen Michael Payne. Reproduced with the permission of the author.
It is the library’s intent to provide accurate information, however, it is not possible for the library
to completely verify the accuracy of all information. If you believe that factual statements in a
local history article are incorrect and can provide documentation, please contact the library.
�
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Santa Cruz History Articles
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Title
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A Howling Wilderness: Stagecoach Days in the Mountains
Stagecoach Days in the Mountains
Creator
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Payne, Stephen
Publisher
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Santa Cruz Public Libraries
Date
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1978
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TEXT
Language
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EN
Type
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ARTICLE
Identifier
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AR-217
Coverage
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Santa Cruz (County)
Subject
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Santa Cruz Mountains
Summit
Colegrove, George
McKiernan, Charles
Stagecoaches
Crime and Criminals-Burglary, Robbery, Larceny
Source
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Excerpted from: Payne, Michael. "A Howling Wilderness: A History of the Summit Road Area of the Santa Cruz Mountains 1850-1906." Santa Cruz, CA: Loma Prieta Publishing, 1978.
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Copyright 1978 by Stephen Michael Payne. Reproduced with permission of the author.
Relation
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<a href="https://history.santacruzpl.org/omeka/items/show/134530#?c=0&m=0&s=0&cv=0">Selected Bibliography</a>
Transportation