The weather was dismal and the same could be said of the mood in town. There was little light in the daylight hours; clouds hung heavy like dirty wool and the nights differed only by being too dark to see their grayness. There was drizzling rain which sometimes rallied into something heavier. It was like a single miserable day that refused to end.

During those four days between the Sunday night riot and the midnight lynchings, our Santa Rosa ancestors found their situation unsettling and had little hope of their prospects improving anytime soon.

There still was seething anger over the murder of their sheriff and the other officers. They did not have the will to riot again themselves, but every single day there was talk that vigilantes from Healdsburg or San Francisco might descend upon the town for another battle with the sheriff.

The town was finally receiving the attention from the Bay Area it had long craved – although it was exactly the wrong sort. Instead of being celebrated as the lovely little city of roses and picket fences, Santa Rosa was now closely linked to gangsters and a heinous crime. Nor would that soon be forgotten; the upcoming murder trials followed by inevitable executions at San Quentin would keep alive the memory of all that happened here.

This is the sixth chapter in the series on the 1920 lynchings in Santa Rosa, “THERE WILL BE PRICES PAID,” and describes what was revealed that week both to the Grand Jury and in jailhouse interviews, plus the media feeding frenzy to scoop other newspapers on those details. Questions are also raised about the credibility of key testimony given by a lawman.

Between the furor over the deadly shooting and the subsequent riot, it was all but forgotten that the original goal for that day was to see if San Francisco rape victims could ID the gangsters.

For Pearl Hanley and Edna Fulmer, victims of the Nov. 10 assaults, the drive to Santa Rosa was a welcome outing. They had agreed to come forward as witnesses on Friday and were promptly locked in the San Francisco county jail women’s dormitory under protective custody – a matter of bitterness, as the victims of the Thanksgiving attacks were staying at the home of police matron Kate O’Conner or in a hotel with police guards.

The victims and O’Conner were left waiting at the sheriff’s office while Petray and the officers went hunting for the gangsters.¹ They were still there that evening during the ensuing chaos of the riot and watching from the windows, which led to a Believe-it-or-Not! moment.

Prominent among the rioters who were repeatedly attacking the door to the sheriff’s office with wooden and steel battering rams, Jessie Montgomery spotted her estranged husband Arthur Matthias, who was co-owner of a Petaluma garage (see chapter two). “I was amazed when I saw him,” she told the SF Call the next day. “He was about the last person in the world I expected to see in that crowd.”

They remained in the office through the evening although O’Conner left to comfort dying Detective Dorman at the hospital. At some point late that night all of the women were taken to a hotel. The next morning they were back to the jail to make identifications, accompanied by a troupe of reporters. The first they were taken to see was George Boyd, the confessed shooter who was mortally wounded himself. Pearl Hanley was the first victim brought to his bedside, and she had earlier told officers that one of her assailants was missing his right index finger.

The Press Democrat reported, “as she was ushered into the cell Boyd lifted his hand beneath the blankets covering him and it was shown to be without the index finger. The girl looked at him, and then with a scream went into hysterics.” She fled into the corridor and was taken into a room, where O’Conner and another woman “restored her to comparative calmness” (SF Call) for her to face him again.

“Oh, God. that’s the beast. That’s the lumber jack. Oh, take me away, please please? I can feel his fingers on my throat now. He’s choking me now.” (The Examiner felt compelled to add those remarks were “a literal trans-script by an unexcited auditor”.)

Boyd was identified by all three victims, both via his appearance and recalling others called him “lumberjack” – a nickname from having worked as a logger and having sought a logging job in Chico the month before the Howard street assaults. The women said he one of their most violent assailants.

One of the women also said Valento participated in the Nov. 10 rapes, but none recognized Fitts, which disappointed Jessie Montgomery and Edna Fulmer because they were just sure he had to be part of the “Howard Street Gang.” (Fitts’ link to Boyd, Valento and Louis Lazarus was from meeting them separately during his various stints at San Quentin and Folsom State Prisons.)

Before the women were brought to his cell, Boyd had denied having any involvement with the gang rapes in San Francisco, but he had plenty to say about the murders.

First he claimed he did not shoot anyone – that Louie Lazarus was hiding in a closet before popping out and starting to blast away at the cops (the Guidottis said Lazarus was never in their home and there was no closet in that room).

In his next confession, made to the sheriff, a couple of deputies and the Examiner reporter, Boyd admitted shooting all three lawmen. Not long after he told the District Attorney he had only shot Detective Jackson. A third (fourth?) “complete” confession followed which D.A. Hoyle would not reveal, saying he was saving it for the arraignment hearing on Friday. It was widely reported that conspiracy charges were to be brought against all three gangsters – that they plotted to kill the San Francisco detectives who were pursuing them and other suspects in the Howard Street rapes. It was Sheriff Petray’s bad luck to get in the way.²

Reporters were given access to Boyd and found him talkative as a scrum of them crowded into his cell. Except for denying any role in the gang rapes, what he said was uneventful: I didn’t get no education, fell in with the wrong crowd, became a gambler and a drunk. He said he deserved to be executed and ended with a plea “to keep little boys off the streets at night and tell them to leave booze alone.” It was the standard “momma, don’t let your babies grow up to be hoodlums” self-pitying jailhouse lament. Several papers including the Santa Rosa Republican printed the whole speech and the PD ran a few quotes before griping such “sob stuff” shouldn’t be published.

The Republican arranged for its society columnist Lillian Burger to interview Dorothy Quinlan in jail which was quite a scoop, as the rumor mills were then grinding away on the notion she was secretly a key member of the so-called Howard Street Gang.

Unfortunately, Lillian only got a few words out of her and nothing remotely interesting – only that she had been a waitress for two years and came here to hook up with Valento. Five sentences. Mainly the columnist described her discomforts about being in the jail, portraying it like a dismal Victorian-era hellhole: “It was dark, and if there is anything that I am afraid of it is the dark, mice and toads, and here I was to enter the door of the jail that harbored these desperate men…” (In truth, the Classical style building was less than five years old and designed by J. W. Dolliver, who was also architect of the beautiful courthouse.)

More newsworthy were her thumbnail observations of the gangsters as she passed by their cells. Aside from the jailers, she would be the last person to see any of them alive before the lynching party arrived. Fitts “seemed bright and willing enought to talk;” Valento sat “on the edge of his cot, his black, heavy-brooded face in his hands;” and Boyd – who had been so eager to yak with reporters that morning – was lying quietly: “Without moving or making any sign, he looked at me – then closed his eyes.”

Boyd was, in fact, dying. Shortly before she saw him, Detective Jackson’s bullet had been removed from his abdomen by two local doctors who turned his jail cell into an impromptu surgical room. Because of the unsanitary conditions and/or the bullet perforating his bowels he was developing septic peritonitis and likely would have died by the weekend, had not the hangmen taken care of him first.

Daily updates on Boyd’s condition appeared in every major Bay Area paper – he was expected to recover, odds were 50-50, the prognosis was poor, he may not die or he probably would. The D.A. vowed to carry him into the courtroom on a stretcher for the Friday arraignments. Or not.

Those items were among the flood of articles and illustrations with a Santa Rosa dateline which were appearing in every edition that week. The Sunday murders were rehashed after reporters were allowed in the Guidotti home; the Examiner ran a silly photo of four men sitting around the table at the crime scene, apparently to help readers imagine what four men sitting at a table might possibly look like. The Chronicle offered an exploded diagram of the house which forgot to include the front door. Then Tuesday brought the Grand Jury indictments and Jim Petray’s funeral, and the next day word of Boyd’s big confession that the D.A. was keeping secret and more rumors about Dorothy Quinlan. On and on and on.

To be sure, there was enormous interest in the story – how could there not be? Before the Santa Rosa doings reached the front pages, everything concerning the “Howard Street Gang” was already the biggest crime story to hit the Bay Area in years. Outrage was high and kept alive as new details emerged about the brutal assaults, while the thrilling pursuit of the gangsters (a chase across rooftops!) fed the public’s hunger for vengeance. San Francisco even turned a cold eye to its barely-underground vice scene; the city caused surprise by entirely shutting down pro/amateur boxing matches because two prominent boxers were among the rapists.

Covering all of this put tremendous pressure on newsrooms and they went to great lengths to beat the other guys to scoops (see sidebar). The PD bragged: “Just as rapidly as the press could send off the copies of the extra edition, and the regular edition which followed, bundles were piled into waiting automobiles, and distribution made to all the towns and communities of the county. Thousands of extra copies were sold as rapidly as they could be supplied.”

It had been the quietest part of the week in Santa Rosa. Several from Sonoma County went to San Francisco for the funeral for Detectives Dorman and Jackson. Poor Dorothy Quinlan – who had been held in jail without cause since Sunday – was arrested for vagrancy. “The complaint charges that she roamed from place to place without lawful occupation and that she was in the company of known thieves” (PD). There was still speculation whether or not Boyd would be well enough to be carried into his arraignment on Friday morning. There would, of course, be no arraignments the next day; there was to be a Coroner’s inquest because the gangsters were now dead. But before opening the chapter on the lynchings, there’s someone we need to discuss: Chief Deputy Sheriff Marvin “Butch” Robinson.

(RIGHT: Sonoma County Chief Deputy Sheriff Marvin “Butch” Robinson c. 1920)

Robinson was a key player in what happened the night of the lynchings, even more important than Sheriff Boyes. It was Butch who had the most contact with the mysterious vigilantes, being forced to open jail cell doors for them. He testified at the inquest as the sole witness about that. But he also told the Coroner’s jurors about other events from earlier in the week and some of his accounts simply weren’t true. He either confused facts easily or was a fabulist – which in this context meant he was a perjurer.

His inquest testimony wasn’t extremely long, but there were three statements that need examination:

A SIMPLE MISTAKE?   “The shells [bullets in the murder weapon] were bought by Valento, so the lady down here at Dan Behmer’s place told me. Identified Valento as the man she sold the shells to.” At the Grand Jury hearing on Dec. 7, Minnie A. Hutchinson, a clerk at the Merrithew & Miller gun store, testified she sold Valento the box of bullets. That store, however, was at the same location as Behmer’s gun store (410 Fourth st.) so even though the business changed hands more than a year earlier, Robinson might have still thought of the well-known previous owner. He was under oath, but this can be easily forgiven as a slip of the tongue.

BENEFIT OF DOUBT?   “I got back to the fence and I noticed a blonde woman through the window in this house. I went along and come back then and told these here boys that I thought the people we were looking for were in Pete Guidotti’s house…” Here Robinson was taking sole credit for leading officers to the gangsters, claiming he spotted Dorothy Quinlan in the Guidotti home while standing in the side yard of the Toscano Hotel next door. Initial reports about events immediately prior to the murders said officers were searching the hotel and “…while there a bystander asked the officer if they were looking for a ‘little black fellow’ who had just entered the house next to the hotel” (PD). That was a fair description of Valento, who was short and had a dark complexion. After Robinson’s testimony the tip from the bystander was forgotten and his version has since been the only version repeated by historians. Some may want give him the benefit of doubt that he might have told the others about seeing her just before/after they were given the tip.

A COMPLETE FABRICATION   “He [Jackson] related the fact of Fittey [sic] getting him six years ago. He arrested him with Forty-year Smith and Fittey had shot him through the shoulder. I told him ‘Be careful Miles, when you get in there, don’t let them fellows get you again; he has got that gun, he is likely to shoot.’ He said, ‘He got me once but he will never get me again.'” This was supposedly a snippet of conversation with Detective Sergeant Miles Jackson, and referred to a September 2, 1914 incident where Terrence Fitts was arrested as part of a gang plotting to rob a San Francisco jewelry store. Jackson was shot and wounded by another gang member and Fitts was not even present at the scene – it’s unbelievable that Jackson would have confused these details. Robinson was repeating an error he (or someone else) had read in the Dec. 6 Chronicle.

What to make of this? Were the first two items honest mistakes with only the last being an outright fib – or was Butch Robinson one of those people simply incapable of telling the truth? Gentle Reader might be inclined to put the deputy on the couch and ponder if he had issues that drove him to aggrandize his own role in these newsworthy events. Or maybe he was pumping up his reputation as a seasoned and eagle-eyed lawman to seek a position as a detective somewhere. We can’t know.

With those questions in mind, our 96 hour journey is now over. It is right about midnight and Butch is on duty at the Sheriff’s Office. The phone rings. A woman tells him she believes there is some trouble brewing at the cemetery because there are several cars there. A crowd is starting to gather. It was as if they are expecting something to happen.

Dorothy Quinlan, Murder Gangster’s Paramour, Tells Of Death Visit to S. R.
By Lillian Burger

When I was told that I must gain an entrance to the county jail, through the seething, restless mob that had massed itself about the guarded and locked doors of the building that held the three desperate murders, my heart sank. How was I to do it? Here I was in a nice warm office, resting after nearly a 24-hour duty, tired and hungry. It was dark, and if there is anything that I am afraid of it is the dark, mice and toads, and here I was to enter the door of the jail that harbored these desperate men…

[Quinlan only says she worked at the department store and came here to meet up with Valento]

…Now came the minutes that my courage left me. I will admit that it took an effort to keep my heart in its proper place when I entered the jail and started to the woman’s ward, but now I was to see the gangsters – the only woman from the outside world who has been inside the locked doors.

Down long dark corridors, through locked doors and passages, miles, it seemed to me, I followed the jailer until I reached the compartments where the three desperate men were locked.

The first man I saw was Terry Fitts, who came to the door of his cell to give the jailer his cup. He wore his hat and was in his shirtsleeves, and seemed bright and willing enough to talk, and exchanged a few words with the jailer, returning to his cell in quest of his plate.

In a cell in an adjoining corridor sat Charles Valento on the edge of his cot, his black, heavy-brooded face in his hands. He neither moved nor spoke; he took no notice of our passing by.

More clanging of doors, unlocking of the mighty gates that kept the maddened throng from lynching these men, down long flights of stairs and we were in the padded cell where lay the sullen, thickset body of George Boyd.

BOYD DOESN’T TALK

Without moving or making any sign, he looked at me – then closed his eyes. “I’ll bring you some soup, later, George,” said Jailer Jewett, but there was no response.

More unlocking of doors, more clanging of the great iron gates – down more flights of stairs, and through the dimly-lit corridors – and I was again breathing the fresh air – who cared if it was raining. I was out in the big wide world. I could move without fear.

– Santa Rosa Republican, December 7 1920

 

Girl Gang Victims Returned to S. F.

After the Identification of Chas. Valenti and George Boyd in the county Jail here Monday by Misses Jessie Montgomery, Edna Fulmer and Pearl Hanley they were returned to San Francisco and the two latter girls from a photograph have since identified another member of the Howard street gang. The man sought is Daniel Logue.

The Fulmer and Stanley girls were attacked In the same manner as the Montgomery and Stanley girls and in addition to Logue the police are seeking Louis Lazarus in connection with that affair. Lazarus was known to have been here Saturday and Sunday but made his escape before the murders in the Guidotti house Sunday afternoon. All efforts to locate him since have failed.

– Press Democrat, December 8 1920

 

Poisonous “Sob Stuff”

IT MIGHT BE EXPECTED that, following such a tragedy as was enacted in Santa Rosa last Sunday, there sooner or later would come a reaction on the part of those chicken-hearted, supine people who, once the shock of such an occurrence is gone, begin to think of the poor dears who are languishing in jail for the crime.

It is true that there are such people. And, mortifying as it is to admit it, these people sometimes include one or two who are in a position to get poisonous propaganda into the newspapers.

In nearly all large cities there is usually at least one newspaper which fawns upon the criminal class, disseminates cancerous ideas about the poor “under dog” and in very device known to unscrupulous journalism, tries to lead the gullible public to believe that criminals really are not to blame for their actions but are victims of unfortunate circumstances.

When such an unmoral, corrupting force enters into our own life and attempts to undermine justice, we are inclined to believe that some offenses not now on the statute books ought to be placed there. To print “sob stuff” apparently designed to prove extenuating circumstance; for a hardened gunman, and before that gunman’s victims are even laid to rest – ugh! Words are inadequate to express the.repugnance which such work engenders.

George Boyd murdered three good men in cold blood. Boyd has been a gangster ever since he reached an age to become a gangster; he has wielded a gun before, has feloniously attacked and abused young girls and has served two terms in the penitentiary for serious crimes. He can offer no extenuating circumstances, and his spectacular warning to young boys to “keep on the straight and narrow” will deceive no one, regardless of what sympathetic treatment and prominent display it may be given by misguided sympathizers.

– Press Democrat, December 9 1920

 

NEWS FIRST IN EXTRA EDITION OF DEMOCRAT

Two hours before any other Santa Rosa paper was able to put out an abbreviated story of the lynching, The Press Democrat had issued a complete account of the circumstances in a comprehensive extra.

Before 5 o’clock the big Press Democrat press was turning out another edition, containing two pages of news about the second tragedy which has rocked the community in less than a week.

About an hour later a second extra was issued by another Santa Rosa paper, still incomplete, and containing less news than the first Press Democrat extra, issued three hours earlier.

At the same time as the Press Democrat was assembling the data of the lynching messages were flashed to the outside world. By Press Democrat service the Associated Press was enabled to put out 2500 words on the telegraph wire before 2 o’clock this morning.

Just as rapidly as the press could send off the copies of the extra edition, and the regular edition which followed, bundles were piled into waiting automobiles, and distribution made to all the towns and communities of the county. Thousands of extra copies were sold as rapidly as they could be supplied.

– Press Democrat, December 10 1920

 

THE MURDER THEORY

The theory underlying the Santa Rosa tradegy [sic] Is undoubtedly the following: The San Francisco gangsters were friends and pals of Fitts, and when matters became too hot for them in San Francisco they fled to Santa Rosa, to receive aid and comfort from Fitts in their attempt to elude the officers of the law. Under these circumstances Fitts was of course, fully aware of the guilt of the villains and became a party to the conspiracy to shoot down the officers in case the gang was apprehended. When the sheriff and the San Francisco detectives approached the Guidotti house the revolver, which Is known to be the property of Fitts, was, without doubt, in his possession, and equally without doubt was by him hidden under the sofa pillow, ready to be used by ANY MEMBER OF THE GANG and placed there for that purpose, in case the officers decided to make arrests. The opportunity to use the gun came to Boyd but any member of the outfit who could have secured the weapon without first drawing fire from the officers would have done the shooting, as the circumstances clearly indicate conspiracy had been entered into to do away with the arresting officers. Under these circumstances no doubt exists that each and every member of the gang, Fitts included is guilty of deliberate, premeditated murder.

– Sebastopol Times, December 10, 1920

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They knew nightfall would bring trouble and it was already starting to get dark – but inside the sheriff’s office there was no plan on what to do or even agreement on who was in charge. The telephones kept ringing. A crowd was forming in the street outside that had the makings of a lynch mob.

This is the fifth chapter in the series on the 1920 lynchings in Santa Rosa, “THERE WILL BE PRICES PAID,” and describes events which happened later in the day of December 5. Just an hour earlier Sonoma County Sheriff James A. Petray and two San Francisco detectives had been gunned down while trying to arrest a gangster in Santa Rosa.

Petray was highly popular, demonstrated both by how word of his murder spread with racing speed and the degree of anger it stirred. Normally some sort of public event would be promptly arranged – a ceremony on the steps of the courthouse perhaps, a church service, or better yet, a memorial gathering in his hometown of Healdsburg, far from the jail where his lynchable killer was in custody.

But if there was hope of defusing the situation any such plan would have needed to be made and announced immediately. Further complicating matters was that it was a Sunday afternoon; city and county authorities who could make decisions weren’t in their offices or were even reachable – the District Attorney was enjoying a drive in the country.

Nor did it help when Coroner Phillips showed up at the jail to announce he was assuming temporary charge of the sheriff’s office, based on his other official title being the Public Administrator for the county. As he was a physician with no experience at all in law enforcement it was an audacious claim, particularly as he had to push his way through a surly crowd to reach the door. What progress had been made on mobilizing officers came to a halt as they waited for Superior Judge Seawell to come down and make a ruling. It was now past sunset.

Phillips only had power to serve official papers, the judge ruled, then huddled with the Santa Rosa Police Chief on who to appoint in charge until the Supervisors could meet the next morning in an emergency session. That man was John M. Boyes, who had been on the Santa Rosa police force for 23 years, nine of them as chief. Once Petray was elected in 1918 he retired immediately and became a deputy sheriff. As he was the only man well qualified to take leadership, the call could have been made an hour earlier.

The judge also ordered all deputies be sworn in as Santa Rosa deputy constables to create a united, lawful police force. Boyes deputized 25-30 men. Another 20 additional special police officers were sworn in by the mayor. A San Francisco Police Captain was coming up on the late train with ten detectives from the city.

Deputies were placed outside the building to guard the door and keep the sidewalks clear, but that soon proved as impossible as sweeping back the ocean. “From Petaluma, from Healdsburg and from towns in the outlying section automobiles, crowded to their capacity swelled the mob in front of the jail,” said the San Francisco Chronicle.

“Several hundred people from Healdsburg, the home of Sheriff Petray, were early on the scene,” the Healdsburg Tribune reported, “and many took prominent parts in the agitation for a necklace party.”

Among them were Edward and Frank Petray, brothers of the murdered sheriff. San Francisco Examiner: “Sheriff Petray’s brother, heavily armed, managed to gain entrance to the outer offices of the jail. Swearing summary vengeance on his brother’s murderer if he could gain access to the cell rooms, he paced to and fro.”

As people continued pouring in, the crowd filled the street between the jail and east side of the courthouse. Cars blocked sidewalks. Between the din of car horns and shouted threats of lynching, few could hear the authorities who urged them to disperse or at least tried to lower the temperature. Here are some things which were reportedly said, according to newspapers the following day:

Judge Sewell: “Don’t do anything that you and Sonoma County will have cause to regret.” Someone answered, “We won’t regret it, judge,” as the crowd roared.

“Let the law take its course, men,” District Attorney Hoyle urged. “We have the murderers, and they will be brought speedily to justice. Give the law a chance!” He couldn’t finish speaking because they began shouting back, “They didn’t give Jimmy Petray a chance!”

Boyes dangled the possibility one of the gangsters had gotten away: “You’re not giving us a chance to do our duty, you fellows. By keeping us here you are preventing us from making further arrests which we want to do in order to clinch the case against the prisoners.” As gangster Boyd was slowly dying of his wound, the Acting Sheriff added morbidly, “If you want to hang someone you’ll probably be able to hang a dead man by morning.”

By early evening there were an estimated 2,000 itching to lynch the prisoners. It was now a mob, and the siege of the jailhouse was about to begin.

The crowd continued to swell as hours passed. Two of the San Francisco papers noted it was not all men, with many well-known women of Santa Rosa scouted among their number.

The air crackled with tension and the disorganized mob kept waiting for something to happen. The PD reported, “Feeling ran high, and if there had appeared anyone with a strong personality to become a leader, there is little doubt that an attack in force would have been made.”

When an auto tire blew out it was mistaken for gunfire and the crowd went into a frenzy. Acting Sheriff Boyes posted additional officers outside the door and took all keys to the jail’s cellblock and sent them away to a secret location.

It was near 10 o’clock and there was an impossibly large number of people shoved together on the east side of the courthouse. The Press Democrat estimated over 3,000. The Chronicle thought there were over 4,000.

And then it began. A group of men raided a construction site a couple of blocks away and stole a long 2×4 (it was probably really a 4×6 meant for a roof beam) for a battering ram.

Dick Campbell, who owned a candy store in Monte Rio, took position at the front. “Let’s go!” he shouted.

The mob parted and the men charged towards the officers and the door.

“But the enthusiasm of those behind evaporated and by the time Campbell reached the jail door he was almost alone,” the PD said. “City Police Officer Herman Hankel collared him and thrust him through the door into the jail, where he was booked on a charge of inciting a riot.”

“Undaunted by one ineffectual attempt to reach the murderers, the mob retired a short distance for consultation,” according to the Chronicle. They returned with a far formidable siege weapon – a steel girder so heavy it needed over fifty men to lift.

Led this time by a sailor in uniform they rushed the jail, the mob at their backs ready to storm the building once they were through the door.

Likely intimidated by the guns, enough of the rioters stepped away from the girder to make the attack unworkable. They backed off to regroup. The standoff resumed:

As 11 o’clock approached, the mayor ordered the fire engine into position. The hose was attached to the hydrant at the corner of Fourth street as the firemen awaited possible orders to drench the mob.

More deputies were sent outside to reinforce the line as the mob prepared another attack with the steel girder – apparently the sailor and others convinced themselves they would not be fired upon.

The 60 to 75 men with the heavy battering ram charged again towards the sheriff’s door. This time the officers were more than ready. Instead of threatening a massacre, the game plan was to leverage the girder’s weight against the attackers in a clever bit of jiu-jitsu.

At the very last moment before the end of the unwieldy ram was about to reach them, the officers deftly put their hands on it and shoved sideways so it smashed into the wall. As the mob dropped their metal weapon, “It struck the concrete walk with a loud clang and clatter,” said the PD.

“The mob made no move to disperse and at midnight excitement still was high. Threats of lynching had by no means abated,” the Chronicle noted, in what was surely the reporter’s final wrap-up phoned in to the night editor.

But it really was over, although fragments of the mob lingered as late as 3AM. There was talk of another assault on the jail that upcoming night, but authorities told the papers that state troops would be summoned if rioting continued.

When the sun rose farmers began drifting into town for Monday morning shopping and learned details of the long and horrible day that came before, from the murder of the sheriff to the reckless mob that might have ended in a massacre.

Only the reporter for the Call was up early enough to sum up the aftermath:

It had been Santa Rosa’s worst night since the 1906 earthquake – but by the end of the week there would be a night more terrible yet.

 

Crowd of 4000 Men Cry for Vengeance And Slayers’ Blood

2000 or more Santa Rosans, cursing the murderers and muttering threats against them, gathered in front of the jail, just across the street from the Courthouse.

The news of the murder spread like wildfire throughout the territory surrounding Santa Rosa. Grim visaged citizens parked their automobiles in front of the jail and rent the air with the din of their horns. Each horn held a menace for the murderers.

From Petaluma, from Healdsburg and from towns in the outlying section automobiles, crowded to their capacity swelled the mob in front of the jail. Within several hours following the capture of the gangsters the crowd had swelled to more than four thousand.

Sailors Arrive and Take Active Part

Up to this time there had been no actual violence, the mob confining itself to threats and curses hurled against the ruffians. Then a party of sailors arriving on the scene took the situation in hand. Immediately the mob grew more restive and the storming of the jail was imminent.

Deputy sheriffs of Sonoma county, reinforced by ten SF detectives under the leadership of Captain Duncan Matheson, at times using tactical persuasion, at times resorting to force to keep back members of the mob, who advanced menacingly, battled desperately to prevent a wholesale lynching.

“Let the law take its course, men,” the officers urged.

“We have the murderers, and they will be brought speedily to justice. Give the law a chance!”

“They didn’t give Jimmy Petray a chance for his white alley!” [sic] shouted a voice from the crowd.

“Think, think, men! You can’t do this thing,” one of the officers said. “Think what it will mean!”

“We know what it will mean!” bellowed another voice in the mob. “We’ll give the murderers whats comin’ to them. Let’s string ’em up!

“Here’s a telegraph pole!” roared still another voice.

“That’ll smash in the door! Let’s go!”

Fifty or sixty of the men with the pole held as a ram advanced toward the jail door. Deputy sheriffs and San Francisco detectives armed to the teeth ran out from the jail and leveled revolvers at the crowd.

“Stand back or well have to shoot!” they cried at the onrushing mob.

Men With Ram Are Hurled Back

The men with the ram reached the door of the jail and battered against it, but were hurled back by the officers before they effected an entrance.

While the mob stormed the jail, the prisoners trembling with fear cringed in their cells while deputy Sheriffs and detectives, companions of the men they had so ruthlessly murdered, stood guard at the doors of their cells to protect them from mob violence.

Undaunted by one ineffectual attempt to reach the murderers the mob retired a short distance for consultation then started another advance on the jaiL.

Again the authorities won and saved their prisoners from the noose. The fire department was called out and, with hose attached to the hydrants, the firemen stood ready to sweep back the crowds with streams of water.

Continue in Efforts To Enter Prison

At intervals throughout the evening the mob made ineffectual attempts to enter the jail and seize the prisoners. The mob made no move to disperse and at midnight excitement still was high. Threats of lynching had by no means abated.

The authorities were determined to hold their prisoners at all cost and the mob seemed equally determined that the murderers should be tried and sentenced in the court of Judge Lynch. The mob, sullen and vengeful, was watching closely for any relaxation of watchfulness on the part of men guarding the jaiL. The slightest incident would have resulted in a concerted rush upon the jail.

Exploding Tire Stirs Surging Crowd

A report like a pistol shot caused the mob to prepare for action and the din that arose from four thousand voices brought a condition to the prisoners bordering on panic.

“For God’s sake don’t let them get us! They pleaded to the officers, their limbs trembling and teeth chattering.

Their protecters gazed on them in silent contempt. They were risking their lives to protect cringing cowards who had not scrupled to outrage helpless womanhood and to shoot down in cold blood men with whom they had been associated for years – their pals.

The report that had almost precipitated another rush on the jail was from the bursting of an automobile tire.

Should further violence threaten the gangsters it may be necessary to reinforce the guard at the jaiL. State troops will be called for only as a last resort it was stated last night.

– San Francisco Chronicle, December 6, 1920

 

 

NEW LYNCH MOB! BOYD CONFESSES! SWOONING S.F. GIRL IDENTIFIES GUNMAN HELD AT SANTA ROSA

[…]

CROWD ASSEMBLES

Shortly before noon the crowd, which had been dispersed at 3 a. m. after a night of terror, began to re-form.

By 12 o’clock about 200 men had gathered about the county jail, and the doors of the jail were locked and deputies and police stationed on guard within and without the structure, ready for any emergency.

The crowd was quiet, and officers believed it to be made up largely of “curiosity seekers.”

During the morning little knots of men gathered at street corners and discussed the tragedy.

The farming communities the surrounding towns were all represented in the crowds that walked the streets, and various rumors of violence being planned were afloat.

One rumor that gained circulation was that a second attempt to get at the prisoners and lynch them would be made tonight.

A crowd, which at its apex totaled probably 3000 persons, had disappeared from in front of the county jail early today after making strenuous attempts to break in the jail doors.

“Lynch them, Lynch them!“ cried the mob, individual members of which demanded that the prisoners be delivered to them.

Armed officers held the mob at bay, and attempts to batter down the jail doors with a steel girder and a heavy wooden beam were frustrated. Members of the mob armed with knives stood ready to slash fire hoses should the fire department resort to water pressure to disperse the crowd. But the three fire engines drawn up around the corner from the jail were not called into action.

[…]

FARMERS FILL TOWN

The county was still at fever heat today. Farmers were reported to be laying down their tools and scores of them came into town during the day by automobile, train and horse drawn vehicles…

[…]

ARMED MEN GATHER

Reports of small bodies of armed men meeting in various pans of the county came to officers during the day.
The residents of the city and of the entire county are plainly in an ugly mood. Extra deputies are being sworn in to meet any contingency.

The crowd that stormed the county jail last night was in a murderous mood. Although none of the men displayed weapons, it was known that some of them were armed and that others carried ropes. The would-be lynchers had practically all gone, ostensibly to their homes, by 3 o’clock this morning.

Mayor W. E. Rutherford had sworn in twenty additional special police officers today to guard against possible outbreak by mobs. Twenty-five or thirty deputies had been named by Acting Sheriff Boyes.

Superior Judge Emmett Sewell, mounting the steps, tried in vain to quiet the mob.

He told the crowd that the officials were just as anxious as they were to secure justice, but desired to uphold the law.

Acting Sheriff Boyes also addressed the mob.

“You’re not giving us a chance to do our duty, you fellows.” he said, “By keeping us here you are preventing us from making further arrests which we want to do in order to clinch the case against the prisoners. If you want to hang someone you’ll probably be able to hang a dead man by morning.” He referred to Boyd, who at that at time was reported to be dying.

Officials were worn out as a result of their battle with the mobs which stormed the jail last night.

BATTER AT JAIL DOOR

At one stage of the siege a group of men secured a steel girder from a building in course of construction two blocks from the jail.

With this hundreds of men tried to batter down the jail doors.

The deputy sheriffs and police succeeded in diverting the girder so that it crashed into the wall. The hand of one officers was badly smashed in the struggle with the crowd for possession of the girder.

Then the crowd secured a heavy wooden beam and once more began to batter at the door.

R. H. Campbell, who served in the world war and who is the proprietor of a confectionery store at Monte Rio, responded to the crowd’s cry for a leader.

He led the way to the jail door, but was arrested by Deputy Sheriff Herman Hinkel and taken inside the jail, but was later released.

Early this morning two score hastily sworn deputy sheriffs and special police were inside the jail and at that time newspaper men who wished to interview the prisoners were told that the keys to the jail had been sent away from the jail. The reason for this apparently was to guard against their possible seizure by confederates of the mob.

A sailor in uniform was prominent in the activities of the mob during the night. He led the attempts that were made to batter down the jail doors with a steel girder.

SHERIFF’S BROTHERS

Sheriff Petray’s brothers were also active in the mob and once one of them gained entrance to the outer offices of the jail. He swore vengeance on the slayer of his brother.

Many prominent Santa Rosa women were noted in the crowd which jammed the street in front of the jail.

The crowd broke into angry roars from time to time and paid no attention to the pleas of those who addressed them. District Attorney Charles Hoyle urged the crowd to return to their homes, but it was not until four hours later that the crowd began to break up.

– San Francisco Call, December 6, 1920

 

 

Jail Surrounded By 3000 Persons; Leader Arrested

Up to 12:30 o’clock Monday morning several attempts to storm the county jail by the disorganized mob which swarmed about the building all night had proven abortive. Estimates placed the size of the mob at more than 3,000 persons during part of the evening.

Feeling ran high, and if there had appeared anyone with a strong personality to become a leader, there is little doubt that an attack in force would have been made.

About 11 o’clock, when the situation appeared particularly threatening, District Attorney George W. Hoyle attempted to speak to the crowd from a position on the jail steps, but was not allowed to finish his remarks. The mob was in no temper for pacific words, and howled him down. Hoyle attempted to point out facts which are obviously true: that the judges here are manifestly fair, that the officers are efficient and will uncover all evidence, and that full justice will be meted out.

ONE ARREST IS MADE

One of the first real, concerted efforts to storm the jail occurred shortly before 11 o’clock. Several men secured a large piece of timber and shouted for a leader.

“Let’s go!” shouted R. H. Campbell of Monte Rio, and grabbed the front of the timber and started up the steps of the jail with a rush.

But the enthusiasm of those behind evaporated and by the time Campbell reached the jail door he was almost alone.

City Police Officer Herman Hankel collared him and thrust him through the door into the jail, where he was booked on a charge of “inciting a riot.”

Campbell, who is a veteran of the world war, at present in the confectionary business in Monte Rio, expressed great disgust at the lack of spirit shown by those who failed to support his efforts to storm the door.

About 10 o’clock a mob of 60 to 75 men, led by a sailor in uniform, came running toward the jail entrance bearing a heavy steel girder which had been brought from a building several blocks away. Amid the cheers of the crowd the mob prepared to storm the jail door, but the foremost members of the crowd dropped away one after another as the door was approached until it became too heavy for those who still remained so they were compelled to drop it before reaching the officers, who presented a solid front across the entrance way.

Shortly before 11 o’clock another attempt was made to storm the jail door and the huge steel battering ram was rushed almost to the entrance of the building, but the men were compelled to drop it again, and it struck the concrete walk with a loud clang and clatter.

Mayor W. E. Rutherford at 11 o’clock ordered the new fire auto engine to be stationed at Hinton avenue and Fourth street for use in case it should be necessary to quell the mob with a stream of water.

At 11:20 several of the deputy sheriffs who had been on duty inside the building were ordered to re-enforce the officers on guard at the jail entrance outside.

Valento was identified by Katherine O’Connor, the policewoman, and not by the girls as was at first reported. She says he is a member of the Howard street gang.

John Hayes and John Parks came up by auto Sunday afternoon for the Associated Press after the detailed story had been sent the San Francisco office by the Press Democrat, the authorized representative of the organization.

[…]

– Press Democrat, December 6, 1920

 

 

Good Police Work

Now that the nervous tension of the people at the time of the triple shooting Sunday is relaxing, they are remembering incidents which were important the night of the killing of the sheriff and his fellow officers.

Much favorable comment has been heard from Santa Rosa people and others of the manner in which the Santa Rosa police force handled the situation in front of the county jail when hundreds of angry men threatened to storm the door in an attempt to lynch the three gangsters within.

Of the Santa Rosa officers, Police Officer Herman Hankel’s method of dealing with the mob struck the right note.

Hankel joshed with the crowd at times and by his kindly sympathy, timely advice, and evident determination to do his duty, he commanded respect for the enforcement of the law which he represented.

At least twice Hankel persuaded the mob to desist from its plans to batter in the door. However, he demonstrated his ability to act with quickness and twice rushed into the mob with drawn club and forced them to drop their battering ram.

Officer Feliz also is receiving much favorable comment from the citizens of this city for his able attention to duty and his manner in addressing the crowds. In fact every man on the force performed his duty faithfully and the Santa Rosa officers have attracted attention in all parts of the state for the efficiency and earnestness.

– Santa Rosa Republican, December 9, 1920

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