BULL-AND-BEAR FIGHTS PROVIDED HIGH-SPIRITED ENTERTAINMENT FOR EARLY GOLD RUSH CALIFORNIA

Citizens of early Gold Rush California looked forward to some leisure time when they could seek diversion from the business of gold mining, keeping the store, or serving hungry, thirsty, and weary travelers. Entertainment was scarce, to say the least, but the people in communities throughout the Mother Lode managed to amuse themselves. They sang and prayed, told stories and wrote letters home. They gambled, got drunk, and danced to one another’s drumming or fiddle playing. The liquor bars and Monte tables frequently provoked antagonism among men who waged fist fights that often escalated quickly to bloodshed. However, one of the clear favorite “blood sports” among gold seekers was the bull-and-bear fight.
 

Many mining camps up and down the Mother Lode played host to the gruesome event at least once during its brief popularity (1849-1852). Like Monte, bull-and-bear fights were a Mexican cultural tradition, one particularly suited to the Sierra Nevada foothills, home to grizzly, brown, and black bears, and within trading distance of valley ranchers.
Almost every good-sized camp had a circular arena constructed of split log and slab walls, surrounded by tiers of seats and a high fence to keep out nonpaying spectators. Because of their higher Mexican populations, the Southern mines witnessed the heaviest concentration of this grim amusement. However, inhabitants of the Northern mines also cheered and jeered at the bull-and-bear-fights. In both Hangtown (later, Placerville) and Georgetown, for instance, the event drew gold seekers from their diggings, dealers from their gaming tables, bartenders from their saloons, and even some preachers from their make-shift pulpits. Eager citizens along the Divide placed their bets at the arena located on the east side of Georgetown. Hangtown crowds swarmed the arena atop Circus Hill, later, McCormick’s Hill, north of today’s Highway 50 between Conrad Street and Spring Street. The probable builder of Hangtown’s showground, Ben Nickerson, created quite a stir when he arrived in town in 1849, leading a small grizzly bear and a donkey. Nickerson apparently made a good stake from the arena for he soon opened the largest gambling den in Hangtown, the enormous, canvas-topped Trio Hall.
 

Easy to obtain, and prone to kick, donkeys became another favored contestant in these fights. The “Champion Jackass of California,” who, it was claimed, had whipped a bull in Sonora and killed another in San Andreas, once appeared in Hangtown where he knocked out a California mountain lion. Later, he ambled triumphantly to Nevada County, where 2,000 spectators paid $2 each to see him meet a grizzly. The supposed “grizzly” turned out to be a medium-sized cinnamon bear, who, after one kick, hurriedly climbed the arena fence and escaped with his life.
 

More often, pitched battles ensued between bulls and bears. While practices varied from camp to camp, proprietors generally roped or chained bears to a post in the middle of the ring and gave them 10 to 20 feet of slack in which to maneuver. Sometimes, bulls were similarly restrained, and some proprietors sawed off the tips of the bulls’ horns. Spectators gasped and whooped and shouted as the fight began, often with a charge by the bull that was met by a snout-crushing chomp of the bear’s teeth. The bulls were the real crowd pleasers, and men and women alike reveled in their daring and determination.
 

In Gold Hunters, author and artist J.D. Borthwick, used romantic images to describe a bull-and-bear fight he attended at Mekolumne Hill in 1852. The event began with two fiddlers–“a white man and a gentleman of color”–who played while the crowd gathered. The arena itself he described as “gay and brilliant” and “the shelving bank of human beings which encircled the place was like a mass of bright flowers.” There were the red, blue, and white miners’ shirts; the men’s bronze faces; the variegated Mexican blankets; the guns and knives glancing in the sun; the red and blue French caps; and always, the “Mexican women in snowy-white dresses.”

The bear seemed a dull creature, but Borthwick literally painted the bull as a gorgeous beast “of dark purple color marked with white . . . his coat . . . as smooth and glossy as a racer’s.” Once the fight began, however, the purple and white, the bronze and blue, and the glint of polished steel “all dissolved into crimson.” The bull’s nose turned “a mass of bloody shreds” and “a red flag taunted a bear brought low.” Borthwick lamented the event as “a scene which one would rather have prevented than witnessed.”
 

Mexicans in the Southern Mines also staged bullfights. Enos Chrisman witnessed a bullfight at Sonora where a stunningly-dressed Mexican woman entered the ring to fight a bull after picadors had mercilessly goaded the animal. In an intricate dance, she dodged her foe until an opportune moment when “she plunged the sward to the bull into the breast of the animal. A shower of silver dollars fell at her feet and the crowd was deafening.”
 

Likewise, Borthwick attended a bullfight at Columbia where it had been announced that Senorita Ramona Perez would be matador. In this case, however, the woman turned out to be an exquisitely cross-dressed man, who made short order of the bull and then ran out of the arena, “curtsying and kissing her hand” to the audience. As for the bull-and-bear fights, Mexican men thronged to them, hollering and laughing, and waving their handkerchiefs along with the other spectators whom Hinton Rowan Helper described as men of “all sizes, colors, and classes such as California, and California alone, can bring together.”
 

By the mid-1850s, as Mother Lode settlements became more “civilized,” public agitation eventually put and end to the bloody sport of bull-and-bear fighting. However, these lively events provided spirited amusement for entertainment-hungry miners, shopkeepers, and townspeople, so, initial efforts to shut down the arenas did not necessarily meet with unanimity. In January 1855, for example, citizens in George-town expressed their concern over the problem as evidenced in this defiant and amusing ad printed in January 11, 1855 issue of the Georgetown News:
 

“On last Saturday and Sunday a Bull Fight came off at an amphitheater constructed for the purpose in the suburbs of Georgetown. Upon the transaction of such occurrences among us, and especially on the Sabbath, many of our influential citizens have plainly expressed to us their disgust upon the recurrence of such scenes. Now in reference to this we can only say: Should they be disgusting to you, your only available resource for protection from them, is to withhold your patronage. We cannot do the work ourself; it being to the people. If they are dissatisfied, it is for them to act, not us.
P.S. Another of those beastly fights will come off next Sunday, providing the weather is favorable.”
Public opinion, voiced primarily by a growing population of women in the mines, eventually forced the closure of arenas across the Mother Lode putting an end to the cruel “blood sport” and replacing it with more “civilized” activities.
Circus Hill became a reservoir and local citizens preferred to forget the whole business.

Copyright 2007 County Times & Review

HANGTOWN OR BUST!

Following James Marshall’s discovery of gold at Sutter’s Mill in January, 1848 more than 80,000 men would set off for California within the year. More would come from around the globe. By January of 1850 the era of the 49er had passed within a single year. With the Gold Rush at its pinnacle, 1851-52 were halcyon years. But, as some disgruntled miners returned home in the east with little more than nothing in their pockets, settlers from the east were making their way west to California in ‘52. Unlike the 49ers who were miners, these pioneer settlers came with their families. They were farmers, merchants, and others who saw opportunity in California.
 

Among those first wagon trains to head out to California was a family from Galena, Illinois. Miss Pauline Wonderly was just fifteen and recorded her family’s perilous journey into the frontier. Her passage is a real life saga of life and death. It is a story of survival, of murder, massacre, and disease. But, it is also a story of births, simple pleasures and new beginnings. Pulling out of Galena on April 15, 1852 Wonderly’s outfit consisted of four men, her father, uncle and two others, along with her mother and both brothers, one eight the other two. They left in two light wagons with four yoke of oxen and two cows. It was, “Hangtown or Bust!” As there was little room in the wagons it was decided that Wonderly would walk, which is exactly what she did, except at streams and rivers. After crossing the Mississippi by ferryboat into Iowa the outfit got mired down in snow nearly making the road impassible. Creeks and rivers were swollen and rising making fording impossible. The wagons had broken down and were floated with passengers and belongings across the raging waters by heavy rope. Miss Wonderly wrote…“We sat in the wagon bed, very much relieved when we reached the other side.”
 

One month out of Galena, on May 12th, the small pioneering party arrived at Council Bluffs. Wonderly noted: “This Mormon settlement was the last civilized place we were to pass through.” Ten days out of Kanesville, Wonderly’s outfit arrived upon the scene of the Elk Horn Crossing massacre. “They [Indians] were burying their dead when we arrived. We were very much frightened for fear they would take vengeance on us, but they retaliated in their way by burning the bridge,” she wrote. Note: The Elk Horn Crossing massacre was carried out by whites in an earlier train who refused to pay the Indians a reasonable toll of 25 cents per wagon to cross the Indian-built bridge. Eleven Indians were murdered.
Fearing Indian attack several small outfits were joining larger trains. Wonderly’s family joined Capt. Meeker’s train along with another party, the Bundy family with eight children bound for Oregon. The Bundy’s remained with the train until they thought it safe to go ahead as they had horses and could move much quicker. Within days the Bundy’s were dying off from cholera. First to go was Mr. Bundy followed by his eldest and youngest daughters, all laid to rest along the trail. Heartbroken, Mrs. Bundy continued on alone with her remaining children for the Oregon frontier.
 

Traveling through Nebraska on June 7th Wonderly’s mother gave birth to a baby girl. The family pulled out of the train long enough for the birth but had soon rejoined the group. Along the trail they passed by an encampment of men many dying of cholera, passing through Devil’s Gate, Wyoming on June 30th. With a newborn in her mother’s charge, Wonderly took over the cooking and laundry. Misfortune carried off one wagon and kitchen utensils down the swollen crossing at Green River, but with load lightened they arrived at Soda Springs on July 18th. The following day they left the Oregon Trail behind and took the branch for California, reaching Goose Creek, Nevada on the 30th. From August 5th through the 24th the small caravan would cross and re-cross the Humboldt River  total of 13 times. With spirits at their lowest, provisions nearly gone, animals exhausted and their wagon ready to fall apart, the party now faced the desert. It was the last 26 miles before they pulled into Rag Town [Carson City] that Wonderly mentions in her journal …“The whole length of the trail was marked by abandoned wagons, bodies of animals, especially of horses, furniture, cooking utensils, in fact whole outfits. Graves also dotted the way.” At Rag Town the family sold their cattle and bought provisions, arriving in Hot Springs [Genoa] August 30th. They began their ascent over the Sierra on September 2nd. Several in the party split at the Ringgold Trail leaving only two outfits from the original wagon train, the Wonderly and Unger party who continued on to Hangtown, arriving on the evening of September 10th.
 

ENJOY THE FEELING OF HOME DURING THE HOLIDAYS AT AN HISTORIC EL DORADO COUNTY BED & BREAKFAST

With the holidays soon upon us, the tradition of family gatherings and friendly get-togethers are being planned. At a time when airports are overcrowded and vehicles have taken to the road, millions of people are leaving their homes to go to someone else’s house. The idea of everyone waking up in the morning in one place seems idyllic. Just like it used to be. There’s grandma and grandpa, sons and daughters, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews all clamoring to get into the bathroom at the same time, tripping over each other to grab a seat at the breakfast table, and keeping one another up all night talking and laughing while reminiscing about days gone by.

It’s a fact that the holidays are a hectic, stressful time for everyone. So, why not do something different this year, make a new family tradition, and take a load off the other relatives by staying at one of El Dorado County’s warm and inviting bed & breakfasts during the holidays?

There are 13 inns located throughout El Dorado County, all rich in history, each one different in its decor and manner of operation, yet, each one of them the same in their hospitality towards guests. The innkeepers live on the premises, and in reality are inviting you to stay at their homes where you will be treated like family. You’ll wake up in the morning feeling relaxed, still have hours to visit with those you’ve missed all year, and be able to go back to some peace and quiet as your sleepy head falls gently back onto a soft, fluffy pillow for a good night’s sleep.

If you’d like to stay at a B&B in Placerville, your choices are: The Chichester-McKee House, 800 Spring Street, 626-1882/800-831-4008; Combellack Blair House, 3059 Cedar Ravine, 622-3764; Seasons Bed & Breakfast, 2934 Bedford Avenue, 626-4420; The Shafsky House, 2942 Coloma Street, 642-2776; Blair House Carousel Inn, 2985 Clay Street, 626-9006. Not far from downtown Placerville is the Shadowridge Ranch & Lodge on Fort Jim Road, 295-1000/800-644-3498.

Georgetown is home to The American River Inn, Main and Orleans Streets, 333-4499/800-245-6566. The Camino Hotel-Seven Mile House, is located in the lumber town of Camino on Carson Road, 644-7740. Historic Coloma (where gold was discovered in 1848) boasts the Coloma Country Inn, 345 High Street, 622-6919, and the Golden Lotus Inn, 1006 Lotus Road, 621-4562.

Inns located in the South County consist of Fair Play’s Fitzpatrick Winery & Lodge, 7740 Fair Play Road, 620-3248/800-245-9166; and The Barkley Homestead, 8221 Stoney Creek Road, 620-6783/800-708-4INN.

Finally, nestled high in the pines on the way to Lake Tahoe, overlooking the Sierra-at-Tahoe Ski Resort, is the Tamarack Creek Bed & Breakfast, 7260 Sierra Pines Road (Twin Bridges), 659-0325/888-510-6659.

The Coloma Country Inn is a charming 1852 inn located in the heart of Coloma and the Marshall Gold Discovery State Historic Park. Nearby you’ll find the Golden Lotus Inn, a pre-Victorian surrounded by herb gardens with frontage to the American River. The inn features six theme rooms and two cottages for families and pets.

Shadowridge Ranch & Lodge is a magnificent 1800s hand-hewn log cabin B&B offering queen beds, full private baths, and patios.

In Fair Play, Fitzpatrick Winery & Lodge is a country-style inn perched on a hilltop at a 2500’ elevation with spectacular 360 degree views. It has five guest rooms, all with private baths. The historic Barkley Homestead’s accommodations include a quaint lakehouse with three bedrooms and a 19th century lodge with two additional bedrooms. Finally, the Tamarack Creek Bed & Breakfast is decorated with Americana antiques, quilts and hand-crafted details.

By staying at any one of these bed and breakfasts you’ll also be close to holiday shopping on Placerville’s historic Main Street, wine tasting and purchases at many of El Dorado County’s award-winning wineries, and trips to Apple Hill’s infamous ranches and Christmas tree farms.

The innkeepers will be delighted to share the history of each of their homes with you, plus let you in on all the little secrets of their dwellings that nobody else knows about. The B&B’s tend to fill up early during the holiday season so make your reservations quickly. Your home away from home awaits you as you begin a new holiday tradition. For more information call 1-877-262-4667 or visit the historic inns’ website at www.goldcountrylodging.com.

Copyright 2007 County Times & Review

GOLD DISCOVERY DATE MAY NOT BE ACCURATE

There are some dates in history that we will never forget–the discovery of America by Christopher Columbus in 1492, the discovery of gold in California, January 24, 1848, Pearl Harbor Day, December 7, 1941, the World Trade Center disaster, September 11, 2001. We know these dates are correct because 1. they’ve been documented, and 2. the information on the events has been passed down from generation to generation. So why is it that the date, and in fact, even the person who discovered gold at Coloma in 1848 is not set in stone? It’s true that we’ve accepted the fact that James W. Marshall, a millwright from New Jersey working at Sutter’s Mill in Coloma that fateful day in 1848, was the first to pick up a small piece of gold from the American River, and El Dorado County (and especially the folks in Coloma) celebrate that discovery each year on January 24th. But, are the facts wrong? In order to sort out the discrepancies we need to research those facts. Sometimes they are hard to find; at other times the information abounds in historical documents and from those who were there when the event took place.

Through books written in the past, diaries, and found documents, we come across firsthand information which we would think would clear things up once and for all. After reviewing many of these written testaments perhaps nothing becomes clear and we simply go on accepting what we believed all along.

The California Gold Book asserts that January 19, 1848, was the date upon which the great discovery of gold in California was made, because: First, for the reason that that was the date given by Peter L. and Elizabeth Jane Wimmer; and was the only date mentioned by James W. Marshall in the conversations W.W. Allen had with him in regard to this matter. If more testimony is needed it was supplied by an autograph card which Marshall distributed among his friends and the curious that claimed he was the discoverer of gold and the date was January 19th, 1848.

Then there is the statement made by Marshall to Ogden Squires, January 28, 1865: "I discovered gold on or about the 19th day of January 1848, in what was known as the "Sutter Mill Race" at Coloma Eldorado County California.

"There were at the time employed about the works, in the building of the Mill, and the digging of the Race-beside myself-Peter L. Wimmer, W.H. Scott, Alex Stevens, Wm Johnson, James Barger, Israel Perkins, James Brown, Israel Smith, Chas Bennett."

According to a letter found in the Lambertville Diarist, Marshall provided another account of the discovery of gold.

"In July, 1847, John A. Sutter and James W. Marshall entered into a copartnership for the purpose of building and running a saw mill on the American Fork river, about 40 miles from Sutter’s. I had previously explored the mountains, and found a suitable place, and a good route for a road to the same, for a mountainous country, not withstanding the assertions of some four or five small parties, sent out before I started, by Capt. Sutter, that on or near the waters of said river, it was impossible to get a wagon road for pine timber. Some of these companies were composed of mountain men.

"The articles of partnership made me the acting partner. In August on the first September I removed to the place of operation having some five or six men with me, mostly Mormons-including Peter L. Werner (Wimmer) and family. I afterwards employed Chas. Bennett and Wm. Scott, carpenters but not millwrights; myself being the only one capable of operating that branch.

Some newspaper accounts state that Marshall and Bennett discovered gold. If Bennett is one of the discoverers, so is Werner[,] Scott, [Bigler, Stephens, Smith, Barger, Brown.] Those enclosed in brackets are Mormons, and I found them men of honor-as most of the others employed at that time by me. But when I think of the past, and look over the list, God forgive me, if I have but little or no confidence in man. Treachery, if gold is concerned against honor, but few, I find, can stand.

JAMES W. MARSHALL

H.W. Bigler explains in the "Diary of H.W. Bigler in 1847 and 1848," Overland Monthly, 2nd series, X (September 1887), 242-244, the following:

"...On January 24th while looking at the race, through which a little water was running, he (Marshall) saw something yellow on the bedrock. He sent an Indian to Brown (James S.) for a plate, whereupon Brown said, "I wonder what Marshall wants with a tin plate." Just before we quit work for the day Marshall came up and told us he believed he had found a gold mine. Nothing more was then said on the subject, as no one considered the matter worthy of attention. In the evening he again came round to our shanty, and began talking about the gold he had found in the lower end of the tailrace. He had tried to melt it and could not. He thought it must be gold. He requested Brown and me to shut off the water in the morning and throw some sawdust, rotten leaves and dirt above the gate, so as to fill the cracks, and prevent any leakage, so that he could examine the bottom of the race.

"The next morning Brown and I obeyed his orders and then went to breakfast, while Marshall was walking along the bank of the race. We had returned to work at the mill, when Marshall came up with a gleaming face and said "Boys I have found a gold mine." And with that he set down his slouch hat, which he had been carrying in his hand on a workbench. We all gathered round him, and then we saw perhaps a teaspoonful of gold dust, some particles as large as a grain of wheat, and others in small, thin scale in the crown of his hat."

"In June, 1847, they loaded all our household plunder for Battle Creek, up on the Sacramento, to put up a sawmill, but they changed their plans and went to Coloma. Captain Sutter and J.W Marshall were equal partners and were the head of the expedition. After seven days of travel, blazing trees, we arrived at sundown a mile above the town. Next morning Mr. Wimmer went out to select a site for the mill, and I a site for the house. He was to oversee the Indians, be a handy man about, and I was to be cook. We had from fifteen to twenty men employed.

"They had been working on the mill-race, dam, and mill about six months, when, one morning along the last days of December or the first week of January, 1847-48, after an absence of several days to the fort (that was our San Francisco in them days) Mr. Marshall took Mr. Wimmer and went down to see what had been done while he was away. The water was entirely shut off and, as they walked along, talking and examining the work, just ahead of them, on a little, rough, muddy rock, lay something looking bright, like gold. They both saw it, but Mr. Marshall was the first to stoop to pick it up, and, as he looked at it, doubted its being gold.

"A plank was brought for me to lay my soap onto, and I cut into chunks, but it was not to be found. At the bottom of the pot was a double-handful of potash, which I lifted in my two hands and there was my gold as bright as it could be."

Mrs. Wimmer continued with her narrative by stating: "One day Mr. Marshall was packing to go away. He had gathered together a good deal of dust...and had it buried under the floor. In overhauling his traps, he said to me in the presence of Elisha Packwood, ‘Jenny I will give you this piece of gold. I always intended to have a ring made from it for my mother, but I will give it to you. I took it and have it in my possession from that day to this."

When asked if she knew the exact date of the gold discovery, Mrs. Wimmer replied, "No, but it was somewhere about the holidays, for I know that Captain Sutter had sent up to me a dozen bottles of brandy–six for the men and six for me."

So it seems that the people who were there when gold was discovered can’t agree on the date or who actually found that first piece of gold which was about the size of a pea. And James Marshall, he had his 15 minutes of fame. Not only was he bitter about not being recognized as the sole discoverer of the infamous metal, but everyone turned on him soon after.

Marshall and Sutter never really made any money from gold. Sutter’s mill was overrun by fortune hunters and eventually the two men went their separate ways.

Marshall died alone and penniless in a shack in Kelsey in 1889. But the monument erected in his honor at Coloma is a testament from the true believers that he was the discoverer of gold at Sutter’s Mill on January 24, 1848. And who are we to question history.

EARLY SAN FRANCISCO SERVED UP JUSTICE — VIGILANTE STYLE

"EVERY LOVER OF LIBERTY AND GOOD ORDER LAY HOLD THE ROPE!" was the boisterous and emotional cry heard over the noisy mob gathered near the firehouse on San Francisco’s California Street. Countless heads turned to see who had made so vengeful an ultimatum in the wee hours of the morning, June 10, 1851. A tall, strong, man named Sam Brannan stepped forward and became the first to grasp the hanging rope whose noose hung around the neck of John Jenkins, notorious robber and alleged murderer. By 1:00 a.m. the prisoner learned his fate, for he was given a cigar and a brandy, and told he would soon die. Just before 2:00 a.m., he was marched through the streets to the City Plaza where, at the north end, stood the old adobe Meeting House with its projecting beams, well positioned for the tool of execution. On order of Brannan and other officials, a great many hands took hold of the hanging rope. When it tightened and Jenkins’ lifeless body swung from the sturdy beam, the crowd of men, women, and children, cheered, for they had "taken the law into their own hands," and justice had been served–vigilante style.

On July 15, 1849, the Regulators held a parade on Telegraph Hill and assaulted a Chilean immigrant camp. Without reason, except for the lust to create mayhem, the Regulators plunged into the defenseless tent city, robbing, looting, raping, and even murdering some of the Latin Americans.

The group’s brazen declarations and outrageous behavior were too much for most of San Francisco’s merchants and businessmen, particularly Sam Brannan. These early gold rush entrepreneurs banded together and appealed to their local courts and formed a jury which found the leaders of the "Regulators" guilty of conspiracy, assault, robbery, and riot. Seeing the holocaust, an outraged Sam Brannan rushed to the Spanish alcalde’s office at the City Plaza. There he told a gathering he would help create a counter organization. "The Regulators are thugs," he said. "Let’s get rid of them now!" The roar of the crowd assured Brannan that he had support, and being a gifted orator and a man of strong persuasion, he formed a Law and Order Party within the week. The party captured 19 of the Regulators and locked them aboard a prison brig for trial, and at the same time, took up a collection to help the Chileans who had been attacked. This marked the beginning of San Francisco’s Vigilante Era.

The majority of criminals frequented Broadway and Pacific Streets, dangerous streets for any person to venture on after dark. These streets became long rows of fandango parlors, gambling dens, and brothels. Sailors lured here from clipper ships tied to the docks, were fed whiskey and narcotics, and many were dumped into the Bay to drown after being rolled of their pay. Sydney Ducks, joined by the Hounds and a few of the Regulators still at freedom, terrorized the growing city. When the San Francisco Alta demanded safety and justice for the city by forming a committee of vigilance, Brannan took up the cue and on June 9, 1851, he held a meeting at the Plaza and at his home, and the Vigilantes were born! San Franciscans made a public declaration that they had had enough of the lawless behavior of transients in town, and posted notices in newspapers and on street lamps, and buildings, saying that the "Committee of Vigilance" had formed "to protect the lives and property of residents of the city." Nevertheless, the city’s criminal element didn’t pay it any mind. They had heard such declarations from small militant groups before. Furthermore, they saw the Committee of Vigilance as just another bluff and weren’t about to take it seriously.

"Give him a trial and hang him at sunup," yelled a Vigilante.

"What’s wrong with holding the trial right here in the street and hanging him in the moonlight?"

Brannan eagerly responded. "He’s guilty, isn’t he? Don’t we have witnesses right here who saw the robbery? I say he’s had his trial as of this moment and justice has run its course."

Instead of locking him up in the City Jail, citizens took Jenkins to the headquarters of the Vigilance Committee on Battery Street. Eighty members of the Vigilantes hurried to the firehouse where Jenkins was given a two-hour hearing and declared guilty. Then, at midnight, the bell of the firehouse on California Street tolled his death sentence–a punishment far too severe for the crime. The mob surged toward the hanging beam on the adobe Meeting House and willing hands produced a rope. Minutes later, John Jenkins, a man of bad character, but innocent of murder, was dead.

The hanging had a profound effect on the city. For days, the lawless remained hidden in their dens along Pacific and Broadway. No vengeful attacks from the Sydney Ducks occurred. Meanwhile, a cry of alarm came from many San Franciscans when they realized the Vigilantes had acted without proper legal authority in carrying out Jenkins’ execution. Nevertheless, Brannan, discovering that most of the citizenry backed the Committee of Vigilance, tightened the group and thus established its authority as a peace representative of the people.

Governor John MacDougal issued a protest against the Vigilantes taking the law into their own hands. However, the Vigilantes made it known that the governor really favored their cause but made his protest as a perfunctory gesture. Nevertheless, MacDougal ordered famed Texas Ranger, Sheriff John Hayes, to claim the prisoners with a warrant. Hayes and company surprised the Vigilantes when a party of police officers invaded their headquarters and took Whittaker and McKenzie into custody.

On Sunday afternoon, August 24th, the Vigilantes broke into the jail, removed Whittaker and McKenzie, and threw them into a waiting carriage which then raced down Battery Street while a death toll rang from the firehouse. At the end of Battery Street, the carriage was greeted by solemn appearing men, carrying block and tackle in their hands and a noose! Whittaker and McKenzie looked in vain for rescue by Hayes and his lawmen, but the execution moved too fast. What’s more, a mob of 6,000 persons had gathered and nearly every one would have fought off any attempt of the Sheriff to delay the hanging. As the bodies swung, a roar of approval coming form the crowd could be heard over most of San Francisco. Then, an hour after the execution, Sam Brannan, and others of the Vigilance Committee, delivered the dead prisoners to the authorities.

The final curtain fell on the Vigilante movement on Election Day in November, 1856, when 6,000 citizens, many of them Vigilantes, met in City Plaza, and by a show of hands and voices, decided the State of California was the supreme authority and should manage the future of law and order. Following this vote, the Vigilantes disbanded and found themselves replaced almost overnight by career-minded lawmen appointed politically, and later, by selective examination. The gallows erected in various parts of the city came down, and jails and state prisons were built as houses of punishment for those convicted of crimes following a fair trial.