1868

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SEBASTOPOL WAS ALWAYS QUIRKY

Jeff Elliott 1 Comment

Sebastopol has admirable things in its past as well as the awful, but goddesses help me, the cliché is true: Go back to the earliest years and the town was always quirky. Current Google results on “Sebastopol” and “quirky” – about 95,200.

The town deserves plaudits for being a tolerant and (mostly) welcoming place for ethnic minorities that were hated and persecuted elsewhere in Sonoma county during the 19th century. A Native community endured continuously on the banks of the Laguna through the early 1900s, complete with their own cemetery. The following article shows Sebastopol had a thriving Chinatown going back to 1869, even as Chinese immigrants were elsewhere being driven out of the area. Later Japanese newcomers also found it a good place to bring their families and put down roots.

On the flip side, lots of awful stuff happened in the early 20th century, particularly the child labor camps where boys as young as seven were brought up here from the Bay Area to work in the fields and canneries. Feel free to also rage over the destruction of Lake Jonive, an irreplaceable treasure which the town turned into an open cesspool and garbage dump.

But there was often something different about the people who lived there. They seemed to be the sort that liked to doodle in the margins of a cookbook more than following the recipes – and I measure that by the number of times I’ve read something about the village in the old newspapers and found myself mumbling, “wow, that’s unusual.” What they often did was just…quirky.

Downtown Sebastopol in 1881 (Western Sonoma County Historical Society Collection)

 

They certainly did not take themselves as seriously as some folks during the Civil War. Sebastopol sided with the Confederacy, as did the rest of Sonoma county (except Petaluma) but unlike the clench-jawed fanatics over in Santa Rosa who actually rooted for the North to be crushed, the Southern sympathizers of Sebastopol mostly enjoyed punking the mainstream “Union Democrat Party” – the so-called moderates who wanted peace declared and everything to go back as it was before Secession.

In 1862, with their customary pre-election barbecue and party rally coming up, the Democrats of the Analy District hosted speeches by candidates. One who appeared was a San Francisco politico named Worthington who was apparently obscenely heckled or otherwise deeply insulted by some Sebastopol wiseguy. Whatever was said must have been pretty ripe because the candidate exploded at the audience of voters:

“…[Mr. Worthington] was suddenly brought to a close upon that topic, however, by a remark from some one in the crowd at which he seemed to take umbrage, and closed in a terrific abuse of the citizens of Sebastopol — stating that if he came there to the barbecue, he would take good care to bring his dinner with him.”

The following year the Analy Democratic Club announced they were throwing another party barbecue, and all Democrats in the county were invited. (It turned out to be a very big deal indeed, with speakers speechifying from 10AM until midnight.) Right after it was announced, the Sebastopol pranksters erected a flagpole taller than anything else around, waving a Union flag and a streamer with the upside down word, “Constitution.” The point, I’m guessing, was for them to hang out at the base of the flagpole and mockingly pretend to be namby-pamby Union Democrat moderates.

“They had a grand ‘pow-wow,’ and apparently had a good time generally,” commented the (pro-Union) Petaluma Argus. “The whole affair was evidently got up for the purpose of ‘roping in’ outsiders; but we hope with no effect. The whole affair is so transparent that nobody but very silly people can be deceived.”

The Argus also heard from a Sebastopol subscriber complaining that his newspaper was being stolen by the very people who looked down on its anti-Confederate content as the equivalent of “fake news,” yet were still reading the paper avidly. “This is just like the rebels here. They sneak around get the reading of the paper and then talk all week of the march of vile abolition ideas.”

At least once, though, the joke was on Sebastopol’s anti-Yankee fanboys. During the Civil War, Fort Alcatraz was used as a military prison for Confederate sympathizers charged with seditious acts, and a telegram arrived that “Dr. Harris, Willson and Valentine, three noted rebels of Sebastopol, had been arrested for treason and would be sent to Alcatraz.” Hours later it turned out to be a hoax, and much celebratory drinking followed. What’s interesting about this anecdote, however, is that it seems like a “dog that didn’t bark in the night” story. If some truly innocent men were sent to the slammer for the duration of the war you’d expect an angry outcry from friends and neighbors; here, the attitude seems to have been, “well, we all knew they’d get arrested eventually…”

The final Civil War episode concerns farmer Aaron Barnes, who definitely took his politics seriously. In 1863 a man named Peters came to his farm to buy a wagonload of fruit. A deal was made and Peters was invited to stay the night, as it was getting late. Late that evening – and presumably after a bottle or three had been uncorked – the conversation turned to one of the big controversies of the day: The Vallandigham affair.

Clement Vallandigham was an Ohio politician who was exiled to the Confederate states a few months earlier after rabble-rousing against “King Lincoln” and the government. (Obl. Believe-it-or-Not! factoid: He died in 1871 while defending a man accused of murder, arguing that the victim had killed himself by mishandling a gun. Vallandigham was demonstrating his theory in the courtroom when he accidentally shot himself.) When Peters said he had no sympathy for Vallandigham, farmer Barnes “told him no abolitionist should stay in his house, and that he must leave; which he had to do, team and all, but without the fruit.”

Main Street circa 1898

 

That Aaron Barnes anecdote has weight because so little is known about him except basic genealogy (1816-1897). Yet as discussed in the next article, Sebastopol’s Chinatown mainly owed its existence to him – and what happened during a period of great upheaval in his personal life also became one of the most gossip-worthy tales in the history of the county.

In June of 1885, Aaron’s wife Lydia/Liddy died; he was 69 years old at the time, and within five weeks he was married again, his new wife Jessie being younger than all but one of his children.

“The old gentleman concluded that the term ‘single blessedness’ was a misnomer, and a short time since commenced looking about him for another partner,” the Healdsburg newspaper explained. “He met a musical gentleman named Professor Parks, to whom he proffered $500 in consideration of his finding him a suitable wife. The Professor readily accepted, and in a short time a lady from the East, twenty-seven years of age, attractive and cultured, agreed to share the old man’s wealth.” (Sam Parks was the leader of dance and concert bands around Santa Rosa for about thirty years; a “Jessie Burk” which might be her was arrested several times for prostitution/disorderly conduct in Louisville, Kentucky during preceding years.)

A different paper noted, perhaps tongue in cheek, that after their wedding “the young couple left the following day for Lake county to spend the honeymoon.”

Aaron gave his new bride $14,300 in bank stock when they married, followed by local real estate in 1885, 1887 and 1889. Then in 1892 she deserted him.

He sued her for breach of contract and sought $20,000 in damages, arguing “…she was not a worthy woman at the time of the marriage, and that it was a scheme on her part to obtain possession of his property.” Jessie Burk Barnes freely admitted she had left him, but insisted she had fulfilled the contract by marrying a man old enough to be her grandpa. The court agreed with her.

The case went to the state Supreme Court in 1895 and Aaron lost again. The court ruled, “When a man marries a woman knowing her to be not virtuous, he forfeits his right to allege that fact as an avenue of escape from the ties with which he has bound himself, and it is presumed that when taking a wife a man will satisfy himself as to her character before leading her to the altar.”

Yet that’s still not the end to the story of Barnes’ family eccentricities. Aaron died a few months after losing the suit, and it was discovered that he placed an unusual clause in his will requiring his estate to be left untouched for twenty years, after which his children – some of whom would have been over 70 by then – could divide it up. This was such a bizarre demand I can’t help but wonder if it was intended as an attempt to protect “his” Chinatown post-mortem. The court declared the long waiting period invalid.

There was still the problem that one of his children could not be found. Samuel – the only kid younger than his ex-stepmom – had disappeared while his dad was still married to her. Since Aaron died, Samuel’s share of the estate was held in trust while the family had him declared legally dead in 1901. But just as his sizable inheritance was about to be distributed to his brothers and sisters, he popped up and contacted them for the first time in twelve years. All were happy he was still alive – let’s generously just presume.

 

Sebastopol in 1895 (Western Sonoma County Historical Society Collection)

 

More stories about Sebastopol during the 1890s come from an obscure memoir, “The Tenderfoot Comes West” by Roy McLaughlin, who spent his teen years there.

McLaughlin sketched what the village was like: “What struck me was the dust and cobwebs everywhere…All the streets were merely continuations of the several intersecting dusty roads.” He wrote there were three general stores complete with “a few men [who] sat around the stove and cracker barrel and exchanged news and gossip,” one full-time church, seven saloons (!) and a large winery. In the little schoolhouse seventh and eighth grade were taught together, and “…the front rows of seats were smaller than those in the rear, which were occupied by boys who were almost grown men.”

There wasn’t much for a kid to do; they swam in the Laguna, which at the time was teeming with carp that were introduced by accident after heavy rains caused a couple of commercial fish ponds to overflow. (One of those ponds was owned by… wait for it… Aaron Barnes.) Boys hung around Chinatown – McLaughlin seemed awfully well-versed in the details of opium smoking – but they also tormented the Chinese men cruelly, as described in the next article. Most exciting was the time “…a troupe that accompanied a horse-drawn merry-go-round spent one winter month with us. They were all ham actors, but their performances in the town hall at least served to relieve the tedium during the season when no work could be obtained in harvesting fruit.”

The key Sebastopol story in his book, though, was a description of one of the town’s  quirky drunks:

There were, of course, many fine, respectable people who quietly went about their affairs. But quite in contrast were the drunkards. I have never seen so many sots of different types as were always in view. Some only occasionally got tight; others were periodic performers, and we knew about when to expect to see them on Main Street. One was of such fixed habits that he deserves special mention. This was old Doc Whitson. One could almost set a clock by his two daily appearances. Early in the forenoon he would walk up the street to the winery, and later in the afternoon would weave his course back down the street, always in an angry mood. On one side of Main Street there was an open ditch, dry in the summer and a gushing torrent in winter. The ditch at one place was crossed by a footbridge consisting of a single board. One winter night during a drenching rain our neighbor heard shouts, and the lady of the house said to her husband, a mild-mannered man, “Will, somebody is shouting. You better see what the trouble is.” Will lighted a lantern and went out toward the noise. Near the footbridge he saw old Doc sitting up to his arms in the water. Will politely inquired, “What are you doing, Doc?” The muffled reply was, “The inquisitiveness of a small village is appalling!”

 

Sebastopol in December 1904 (Western Sonoma County Historical Society Collection)

 

Finally, no discussion of the town’s quirkiness is complete without considering how it got its name. It was originally called “Pine Grove” in 1855, as can be verified in a Sonoma County Journal ad from that December.

Trigger alert: Things are about to become very confusing.

Trouble was, there were lots of other Pine Groves in the state, and the one in Amador County got the official nod from the post office in 1856. That same year the USPS also designated “Sebastopol” as the mailing address for a place – in Napa county.

What we were calling Pine Grove here was officially the post office named “Bodega” and it handled every piece of mail between there and the Oregon border. Then in 1857, the residents of Pine Grove decided it would be really cool if the village were now called Sebastopol instead.

The mess was not sorted out until 1868, and presumably not before a whole bunch of letters were returned to confused senders. That year the post office at the place everyone called “Bodega” was designated Bodega, Sebastopol/Napa was officially renamed Yountville, and Sebastopol/Quirky became recognized as Sebastopol, California. All the many other Sebastopols in Tulare, Sacramento and Nevada counties (“Sebastopol” was obviously a very popular name in the 1850s and 1860s) were left to dream up a different ру́сский name.

But why was “Sebastopol” a popular name at all? The indefatigable John Cummings wrote a research paper on the historical military standoff and how it was celebrated in the Bay Area, while the oldest account of why the name was chosen here appeared in Robert Thompson’s 1877 Historical and Descriptive Sketch of Sonoma County, California:

…The formidable name of Sebastopol originated in this way: a man named Jeff Stevens and a man named Hibbs had a fight; Hibbs made a quick retreat to Dougherty’s store; Stevens in pursuit. Dougherty stopped Stevens, and forbid him to come on his (Dougherty’s) premises. The Crimean war was raging at that time, and the allies were besieging Sebastopol, which it was thought they would not take. The Pine Grove boys, who were always keen to see a fight–chagrined at the result,–cried out that Dougherty’s store was Hibbs’ Sebastopol. The affair was much talked about, and from this incident the town took its name.

It’s a fun story, but I can’t find any evidence it is true. There were no men with those names found in the 1850 or 1860 census; that “much talked about” fight wasn’t talked about even in passing within any surviving newspapers of the time (at least, currently available online). Methinks author Thompson was probably repeating some retrofitted barroom tale made up in the twenty years since.

Now that story has been accepted without question, even while more details have been larded onto its ribs. Tom Gregory – author of the county’s 1911 history book and a man who could lie like a salesman working on 50% commission – added that Hibbs’ first name was “Pete” and they were slugging away at each other because they were both so, so passionate about the Crimean War which was already over. Gregory’s account further dripped with gooey prose, “…so out from the red flames of the Crimea, out from the bloody rifle-pits of the Redan, out from the fadeless glory of the Light Brigade, and out from the historical scrimmage at Dougherty’s came out Sebastopol. Jefferson and Peter are aslumber on Gold Ridge, mingling their dust with the rich yellow soil, with orchards to the right of them, vine-rows on the left of them, blooming and fruiting.” Lordy, I do so appreciate reference books that are concise.

A letter from a Sebastopudlian published by the Argus in 1865 also didn’t mention the fight, but simply that they chose to adopt the name of “Russia’s renowned Fortress” – in other words, because it was considered a very honorable name. I agree with Cummings that is the most likely answer, as the writer was probably living there around the time.

Cummings is a fellow newsprint spelunker and a first-rate researcher; SSU offers fifteen of his research papers online, and they have proven invaluable to me. But in this case he was incorrect on several points, particularly, “Pine Grove was renamed Sebastopol in the about seven month period between November 1855 and the end of May of 1856.” Since his essay was finished in 2009, an enormous number of historic newspaper pages have come online and are searchable, providing tools he did not have.

The ads published in the Sonoma County Journal show the name change happened in May, 1857 – although there are still no articles to be found about the switch. After May 22 it’s always Sebastopol in advertisements, except for an old display advert from a non-local delivery company that continued listing Pine Grove as late as 1860.

Sebastopol is the only community around here with a colorful story about its name, and personally I love the idea that some joker in Sebastopol may have made it up, most likely to make the place seem less respectable. From that quirky seed grew a tree that looks mostly like others in the forest until you take a closer look – and then you realize it’s really not quite the same. Not the same at all, and that’s something nice to appreciate.

 

NEXT: SEBASTOPOL’S CHINATOWNS

 

Sonoma County Journal ads: May 8, 1857 / May 22, 1857

 

…[Mr. Worthington] was suddenly brought to a close upon that topic, however, by a remark from some one in the crowd at which he seemed to take umbrage, and closed in a terrific abuse of the citizens of Sebastopol — stating that if he came there to the barbecue, he would take good care to bring his dinner with him. He then thanked those who had given him their attention, and took his departure, feeling pretty well satisfied, we expect, that Sebastopol was not a very good place for an itinerant political preacher to stop at.

– Sonoma Democrat, August 28 1862

 

SECESSION IN SEBASTOPOL. — Last Saturday the Democratic party, which now spells its name “Secesh,” erected a pole 91 feet high, and hoisted the Union flag upon it, surmounted with a streamer, bearing the word “Constitution,” upside down. Then they had a grand “pow-wow,” and apparently had a good time generally. The whole affair was evidently got up for the purpose of “roping in” outsiders; but we hope with no effect. The whole affair is so transparent that nobody but very silly people can be deceived. The conduct of the Secessionists reminds us of what some travellers tell us about the habits of the ostrich. When it is pursued and wishes to escape observation it thrusts its head into the nearest sand heap and leaves its body sticking out. Not until it feels the blows of its pursuer does it find out its mistake. The Union party very plainly see the body of Secession sticking out of all these so called Democratic demonstrations, although its head is hidden; and when the day of next election comes we hope that a vigorous application of boot-toe will emphatically convince the Secesh ostrich that it has deceived no one but itself.

– Petaluma Argus, August 5, 1863

BADLY SOLD.–The Constitutional Democracy were badly sold last Sunday. W. L. Anderson telegraphed from Santa Rosa that Dr. Harris, Willson and Valentine, three noted rebels of Sebastopol, had been arrested for treason and would be sent to Alcatraz. As the despatch came from a rebel, they believed it to be true, and many a long face might have been observed on our streets.

BADLY SOLD Until the evening stage arrived in Petaluma with news that the report was false, the earlier report in the telegram from W. L. Anderson, a rebel from Santa Rosa, was believed – that three noted rebels of Sebastopol, Dr. Harris, Wilson and Valentine, had been arrested for treason and would be sent to Alcatraz. A constitutional expounder in Petaluma offered to bet $500 that the arrests resulted from the lying of the awful fellow, Joe McReynolds. Democracy rejoiced with great joy and the indulgence of “tangle leg fluid” when the initial report was exposed as a hoax.

– Petaluma Journal and Argus, July 28, 1864

MEAN

A subscriber of the Argus at Sebastopol complains that he gets very little from his subscription since his Secessionist neighbors read and circulate his paper from house to house and he is seldom able to read his own paper. “This is just like the rebels here. They sneak around get the reading of the paper and then talk all week of the march of vile abolition ideas.”

– Petaluma Journal and Argus, December 1, 1864

Editors Alta:  Yesterday evening a circumstance occurred here which illustrates the principles of the Copperhead Democracy so perfectly, that I must give it to you for the benefit of your readers.  On the 3rd, Mr. Gordon Peters, a Union man, went to the house of Aaron Barnes, a Democrat, for the purpose of purchasing a wagon load of fruit.  Terms were agreed upon between the two for a load, and Peters was invited to stay all night.  In the evening, about 9 o’clock, Barnes commenced talking about the state of the country, and finally asked Peters what he thought of the arrest of Vallandigham.

Peters replied that he thought it was right and proper, whereupon Barnes commenced abusing him, and told him no Abolitionist should stay in his house, and that he must leave; which he had to do, team and all, but without the fruit.  The above facts I had from Mr. Peters himself this morning, and as he is a man of first-rate standing, there can be no doubt about their truth.  Comment is unnecessary.

– Daily Alta California, August 8 1863

ANOTHER SEBASTOPOL – The name of the Post Office at Sebastopol, Sonoma County, has been changed from Bodega to Sebastopol, and John Dougherty has been appointed Postmaster thereof. The name of the Post Office at Smith’s Ranch will be changed to Bodega. These changes have become necessary by the settlement of the country. Bodega Post Office hitherto has been located at the town of Sebastopol, fully ten miles from Bodega Corners, and the Post Office at the latter place has been known as Smith’s Ranch. The names are now made to conform to the localities more nearly than before. The Bodega (now Sebastopol) Post Office was the oldest established in the county except that at Sonoma, and its establishment was the most northern Post Office above the Bay of San Francisco and west of the Sacramento Valley — letters for everyone up to the Oregon line being sent to that office. We now have three Sebastopols in California, but only one of them has a Post Office by that name. The Post Office at Sebastopol, Napa County, is now called Yountsville [sic], and the Sebastopol in Sacramento County had no Post Office at all, so far as we are informed.

– Petaluma Weekly Argus, January 23 1868

The wedding of Mrs. Josie Burk, of Santa Rosa, and Aaron Barnes, of Sebastopol, took place on Sunday afternoon of last week at the residence of C. A. Reigels, on Sonoma avenue, in the former place. Smilax and cut flowers adorned the parlors. The ceremony was performed by the Rev. T. H. Woodward, in the presence of the relatives and a few invited friends. After the marriage rites, a wedding supper was served at tete-a-tete tables, where the bridal cake was cut. The health of the bride was drunk by those present in bumpers of sparkling wine. The young couple left the following day for Lake county to spend the honeymoon.

– Daily Alta California, July 27 1885

 

Wedded Again.
(Healdsburg Enterprise.)

Some five weeks ago Aaron Barnes, a very wealthy citizen, of Green Valley, lost his wife. Though on the shady side of life, between seventy and eighty years of age, the old gentleman concluded that the term “single blessedness’ was a misnomer, and a short time since commenced looking about him for another partner. He met a musical gentleman named Professor Parks, to whom he proffered $500 in consideration of his finding him a suitable wife. The Professor readily accepted, and in a short time a lady from the East, twenty-seven years of age, attractive and cultured, agreed to share the old man’s wealth. The latter desired to settle upon his fair young intended $30,000, besides two cottages in Santa Rosa,and her legal advisor pressed her to accept, but it seems she was modest, and would receive but $10,000 in money. On the strength of this they were duly married, and it is stated that few men are prouder to-day than the happy groom.

– Daily Alta California, August 5 1885

 

Aaron Barnes Sues His Wife.

Aaron Barnes of Sebastopol was married to Jessie Burk in 1885, and they lived together as man and wife until August, 1892, when she left him. Previous to tbe marriage the plaintiff deeded to the defendant $14,000 in personal property, and now be wishes to recover $20,000 in damages for breach of contract. The defendant appeared by demurrer Monday before Judge Dougherty, and while she admits the facts of desertion as alleged, sbe denies the conclusion and the breach of contract. In his judgment sustaining the demurrer Judge Dougherty says that as the sole consideration of the contract and transfer of the property was marriage and the marriage had been executed, therefore desertion afterwards could constitute no breach that would effect the property transferred to her, although tbe parties were not living together since 1892. The plaintiff sets up the plea that the defendant was not a worthy woman at the time of the marriage, and that it was a scheme on her part to obtain possession of his property, and that part of the plan of the defendant was ultimately to leave him. To all this the defendant filed a demurrer and the judge sustained the demurrer and granted ten days for tbe defendant to amend.

– Sonoma Democrat, October 13 1894

 

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COURTHOUSE SQUARE FOR SALE, CHEAP

Jeff Elliott Leave a comment

It’s too late for the sesquicentennial year, but Santa Rosa should declare every April 15 Gus Kohle Day. On that date in 1868 he became a hero for taking his axe to a building on the town square.

It was the most exciting thing to happen in Santa Rosa that year; as described here earlier, there was nary a whoop of celebration when the town was officially incorporated. Other than a heated debate over proposed routes for the soon-to-come railroad, it looked like 1868 would be completely forgettable.

Then on that mid-April morning, Gus came downtown to open his Court Saloon on Exchange Avenue facing the west side of the plaza (now Old Courthouse Square). There was a commotion because a trio of carpenters and a local farmer were well underway putting up a small wooden building, having worked through some of the night. Gus knew what this was about; everybody in town knew what was going on.

The southwest corner of the Santa Rosa Plaza c. 1870, as seen from Third Street. Image courtesy Sonoma County Library

 

 

The trouble began a few months earlier around Christmas of 1867, when Julio Carrillo couldn’t get a sack of flour.

Santa Rosa – as every local schoolkid knows – was built on the 2,000+ acres Carrillo inherited from his mother, Doña María, in 1849. Fast forward a mere five years and the town (albeit unincorporated) was now the Sonoma county seat, thanks in part to Carrillo and the three other founders offering to build a new courthouse here for free. They also donated a couple of acres for a central plaza, with Julio giving the entire western half. At that moment in 1854 he was likely the wealthiest man in Sonoma county after his brother-in-law, General Vallejo.

About a dozen years passed. Julio Carrillo had lost all of his land and supposedly gambled away the rest of his inheritance. Gaye LeBaron called him a “born loser” which seems harsh, but he was indeed a pauper thanks to his exceedingly bad judgement and boundless generosity – not to mention having twelve children. Thus he found himself being told by a storekeeper that he didn’t have enough credit left to buy a simple sack of flour.*

“Stung to the quick, in the heat of his indignation he re-deeded half of the Plaza,” wrote historian Robert Thompson. And typical of Julio’s lousy dealmaking, he took the lowball offer of $300 for what would have been the most valuable property in town.

The first news about the “re-deed” appeared in the Santa Rosa paper shortly after New Year’s Day, 1868. Yeah, the plaza was looking a mite scruffy, the editor admitted, but it belonged to the town and “Mr. Carrelio” (his name was misspelled throughout the whole item) can’t un-donate it. The three men who gave Julio the money were all locals – two farmers and a butcher – and they would only “waste their money and make themselves obnoxious to their fellow citizens” by trying to claim ownership, commented the Sonoma Democrat.

In March both sides rattled sabers. A crew from the town repaired the fence and installed gates to keep cows and pigs from wandering into the plaza (an ongoing problem) while a San Francisco lawyer, hired by the three who gave the cash to Julio, ordered the work to be stopped.

A month later came the showdown. One of those who believed he actually had a valid deed was Wesley Woods (often misspelled Wood), a farmhand who worked for Barney Hoen. The small frame building he and the carpenters were constructing probably had no purpose other than to claim possession of the land. Although this was never a “squatter’s rights” issue, Woods and the others could point to the structure as an improvement on the property, which would complicate legal matters considerably.

Whether Gus Kohle knew that point of law or not is moot; what’s important is that he spared Santa Rosa a courtroom headache by taking immediate action. “Procuring an axe, he went into the plaza, and in the course of a few minutes completely demolished the new building, leveling it with the ground.”

Woods and the carpenters were arrested. All but Woods were released by the court because they were simply hired workers, but Woods’ San Francisco lawyer got him a jury trial, where he was found guilty and fined $38.75. “This is the first act in the performance. What will be the next step we are not prepared to say,” remarked the Democrat.

Kohle’s timely intervention earned him a cheery salute in the Sonoma Democrat: “Gus. Kohle, of the Court Saloon, feeling extremely jolly on Tuesday [sic] morning last, over his victory gained in the plaza, like the good, clever man that he is, wanted us to feel likewise – so he brought us a keg of Miller & Fried’s superior Lager. Here’s to you, Gus.” That kind of praise wasn’t unusual, however. His saloon (motto: “Beer at reasonable rates”) was next to the newspaper’s office and he was always plying the staff with free booze for plugs. Another example: “Why is Gus Kohle so fat, prosperous and good looking? That’s what’s the matter, There is only one reason for it, and that is that he always comes into our office with lager at the proper time. Gus is a brick, sure.” (That was a joke because Kohle’s family owned the brickyard.)

The group that thought they owned the plaza did not give up, however. Details are sketchy, but they sued to evict Santa Rosa from its own public park – arguing “the town never formally accepted the gift and furthermore, that the conditions precedent to its taking effect have not been complied with.” (Huh?) The court threw out the case. They filed a lawsuit again, this time from Marin county, and again were “non-suited” by the judge. It was now near the end of 1870, probably about two years after they gave the money to Julio Carrillo.

“Returning immediately to Santa Rosa,” the Democrat reported, “they once more entered on the disputed ground, and shortly after daylight, on Friday morning, another rough board shanty presented an ugly appearance on the plaza.”

The paper stated “an old citizen of the town” tried to smash it up but he “was knocked down and driven out of the enclosure in a very rough manner.” That could have been Gus again, as he still had the Exchange street saloon; but he was 50 years old at the time, and it’s doubtful a reporter would call that elderly (particularly after all the free beer he was pouring down their gullets).

Again the shanty was torn down and the men behind it were arrested (Wesley Woods was still the only one named). A trial was held and this time the case was dropped because the work was done at night and there were no witnesses.

That was the end of the matter; the town council had rushed through a new ordinance explicitly making it illegal to put up a building in the plaza and they did not try again.

Some dangling questions remain. None of those caught in the plaza deal were wealthy, yet they hired San Francisco attorneys – in their last trial, a judge – to represent them. One of the later articles mentions “Wesley Woods, Henry Mutz, and several other parties,” although “A. Berry” was the only other person ever named. Were they selling partnerships to pay for their legal defense?

Also, it seems odd that they spent all that money but did not sue Carrillo for fraud. Perhaps Julio – ever the terrible negotiator – did not get his $300 after all because he agreed that the deal would be contingent upon them perfecting the land title.

Regardless, the plaza that would become Courthouse Square was safe from being carved up – or at least it was until 1967, when the city split it down the middle with a road. And as explained in my article about Santa Rosa’s centennial celebrations, our progress-minded civic leaders also were planning to sell off the eastern half of the square for commercial development. Preservationists blocked that from happening, thank goodness, but it might have been harder to prevent if we all woke up some morning to find Hugh Codding had built a preemptive shack on the place.

* The “sack of flour” angle makes the story seem as if it could be apocryphal, but I think it’s true. Robert Allan Thompson wrote about it just 15 years after the event, and his book was published in Julio’s lifetime. A transcript of the entire passage can be found below.

 

1866 map of Santa Rosa; detail from earliest wall map of Sonoma County

 

 

A RAID ON THE PLAZA.— Several years ago, when our flourishing town was in its infancy, it was the recipient of a handsome and valuable gift of a piece of ground, lying ia the heart of the town, for a public square or plaza. Messrs. Hahman and Carrelio were the generous donors. Our old citizens will recollect the high appreciation in which this liberal act was hold at the time. Under the immediate care and personal supervision of Gen. Hinton, since deceased, the plaza became an ornament to the town, and was regarded with pride and pleasure by old and young. Since the old gentleman’s death, however, less care has been given to it, and our public square, though still both a benefit and an ornament to Santa Rosa, is not what it was formerly. This seeming neglect may have operated on the mind of one of the donors, Mr. Carrelio, for we learn he has actually sold and conveyed to certain parties in town all his right, title and interest in the square, and that they design building upon it, leaving simply room for the running of the main street through the same. Of course they will not be permitted to do anything of the kind. We imagine that the “right, title and interest” of Mr. Carrelio in the property mentioned, after donating it to the town for public use, is neither more nor less than that of any other citizen. The parties to whom he conveyed can take no more than he owned at the date of making the deed, which is simply nothing at all. They may possibly, acting under bad advice, waste their money and make themselves obnoxious to their fellow citizens, but in the long run they will be the sufferers by the operation. Santa Rosa, by virtue of a free gift, and long use and occupation, owns the plaza, and under no circumstances will her undoubted right to it be given up. We advise the parties, for their own sake, and the credit of the town, to abandon this vain and unwarranted undertaking. It is only causing ill feeling and useless expense and trouble.

– Sonoma Democrat, January 4 1868

UNDERGOING REPAIRS. —The Plaza is undergoing repairs, the fence being straightened up, new gates put in, etc. We understand that the parties now endeavoring to deprive the county of its claim upon the Plaza have ordered the work to be stopped, but no attention has been paid to it. Let the work go on, and the plaza be properly improved.

– Sonoma Democrat, March 14 1868

…The attorney engaged for the purpose of taking away the plaza from the town ridicules the idea of the matter being contended, and thinks that all be will have to do for his clients is to go up to Santa Rosa and take possession of it. I think the gentleman will find out that he will meet with more opposition in this matter than be anticipates.

–  Sonoma Democrat, March 14 1868

ROW ON THE PLAZA.— Late on Tuesday night or early Wednesday morning some parties entered the public plaza of Santa Rosa, and began putting up a small frame building thereon. Daylight revealed the objectionable structure to the gaze of our citizens, and great was the indignation which followed. Marshal Parks proceeded to the spot and arrested Wesley Wood, James Hayward, Edward Minott and William Harrow. Gus Kohle also had a hand in the business. Procuring an axe, he went into the plaza, and in the course of a few minutes completely demolished the new building, leveling it with the ground. The parties arrested were bound over to appear for trial next Tuesday. Three of the parties arrested are carpenters, who were employed to do the work by others who claim the plaza under a bill of sale, as is well known, and have sent to San Francisco for an attorney to attend their case. The people of Santa Rosa have no patience with such nonsense, and those interested in this attempt to grab the public square have made themselves very unpopular.

– Sonoma Democrat, April 18 1868

Gus. Kohle, of the Court Saloon, feeling extremely jolly on Tuesday morning last, over his victory gained in the plaza, like the good, clever man that he is, wanted us to feel likewise—so he brought us a keg of Miller & Fried’s superior Lager. Here’s to you, Gus.

– Sonoma Democrat, April 18 1868

THE PLAZA WAR.—Last Week we mentioned the arrest of Wesley Wood and three others for unlawfully entering and erecting a building on the public square of Santa Rosa. On Tuesday they were brought to trial before Recorder Middleton, charged with violating a town ordinance. J. W. Owen, of San Francisco, appeared as counsel for the defendants, and P. B. Hood, City Attorney, represented Santa Rosa. The first day was spent in endeavoring to get a jury, great difficulty arising from the line of examination adopted by the defense. The Court finally refused to give the counsel the latitude he claimed in this respect, as it was evident that it would be next to impossible to obtain a jury. Mr. Owen thereupon threw up the case, and left the court room. On motion of the Town Attorney, all the defendants but Wood were discharged. They were simply workmen, and had no intention of committing any offense. Next day the jury was competed, the following persons being sworn to try the case… A verdict of guilty was returned against Mr. Wood. The Court then fined him $38.75, the bare costs of the proceedings. This is the first act in the performance. What will be the next step we are not prepared to say.

– Sonoma Democrat, April 25 1868

GUS. KOHLE.—Our old friend Gus. Kohle has taken up the bet that we offered recently, that he could not furnish us with more lager than we could dispose of. The other day he rolled another keg of excellent beer into our office, and announced his determination to come out of the contest victorious, as he had the Healdsburg brewery to back him. All we have to say is, “let the fight go on !”

– Sonoma Democrat, May 9 1868

Why is Gus Kohle so fat, prosperous and good looking? That’s what’s the matter, There is only one reason for it, and that is that he always comes into our office with lager at the proper time. Gus is a brick, sure.

– Sonoma Democrat, December 18 1869

 

More of the Plaza Troubles.

Some two years since our citizens were apprised of the fact that Wesley Woods, Henry Mutz, and several other parties claimed to be the owners of the public plaza of Santa Rosa, basing their claim, we believe, on the purchase of all the right, title and interest of the original owner, who had previously given the land to the town. It is asserted, on the part of claimants, that the town never formally accepted the gift and furthermore, that the conditions precedent to its taking effect have not been complied with. About the time mentioned Woods and others hastily erected a shanty on the Plaza, and claimed to be in possession. Considerable indignation was aroused by this proceeding, and the building was summarily torn down and the parties arrested for violating a local ordinance. Subsequently they brought a suit in ejectment to recover the land, and were non-suited when the case came up. Then a change was made to Marin county, where the matter rested for some time. Last week, however, the case come up in that county, and again the Plaza “jumpers” were non-suited. Returning immediately to Santa Rosa, they once more entered on the disputed ground, and shortly after daylight, on Friday morning, another rough board shanty presented an ugly appearance on the plaza. The parties, this time, appeared determined to maintain their supposed rights, and an old citizen of the town, who attempted to batter down the structure on his own account, was knocked down and driven out of the enclosure in a very rough manner. The town trustees soon after took the business in hand, a warrant was issued for the arrest of the “jumpers,” and Marshal Park ordered to remove the building, all of which was done in a vigorous and summary way. The parties now await trial for breaking a town ordinance, the plaza is once more free from shanty encumbrances, and “order reigns in Santa Rosa.”

– Sonoma Democrat, December 3 1870
The Plaza Case.

The trial of Wesley Wood and others, for breaking down the Plaza fence, etc., came up before Justice Brown on Tuesday last. Judge Tyler, of San Francisco, appeared for tbe defendants, and Barclay Henley and James McGee for tbe city. After an interesting and protracted trial, defendants were discharged. Although several persons were present at the time the fence was removed, not one could be found who had actually seen who did it, or even knew at whose instigation it was done, Tbe impression prevails that it was a put-up job, one party taking down tbe fence before daylight, and the other going to work to erect tbe building shortly after. So far as the merits of the claim to the Plaza go, tbe case remains just where it did before. The City Trustees, however, have passed an ordinance which will make any attempt on tbe Plaza more certain of conviction and punishment hereafter.

– Sonoma Democrat, December 10 1870
Gus Kohle.

There are in all cities and towns some peculiar persons who are well known by reason of some phase of character to all inhabitants. Such a person was the late August Kohle, who died on Friday last and was burled on Sunday. He was born in Hanover, Germany, Dec. 10th, 1820, and was therefore at the time of his death in his fifty-ninth year. When a youth he shipped from Bremen as a cabin boy and went to Havanna, [sic] where he remained twelve years. In 1849 he came to California and in 1859 settled in Santa Rosa, where be subsequently married and has since resided. By industry as a laborer, brick manufacturer, etc., he accumulated considerable property and at one time owned most of the frontage on the west side of the Plasa. At an early day he took great interest in the improvement of the Plaza, and as Sexton did most of the work in laying out and improving the Cemetery grounds. He was also an original member of the Fire Department, and served many years as Steward of Engine Co. No 1, being at all times one of its most active and efficient members. To attend meetings, and wear the uniform on gala days, was not with him the whole duty of a fireman. Be took hold of whatever would promote the efficiency of his company, whether in the heat of battle with the flame, or in work about the engine and its appurtenances, that it might at the first tap of the alarm bell be ready for any emergency. Gus Kohle had his faults—who has not? but during his long residence here made for himself a good name. He was industrious, charitably disposed, honest in dealing with his fellow-men, and always made good his Word. His sphere was humble; his opportunities were slight; but in spite of these drawbacks he died respected by all who knew him, as was evidenced by the very large attendance at his funeral of the citizens of Santa Rosa, without regard to creed or nationality. He has laid aside the burden of life. His memory, like his face, will soon fade from the minds of men, but he will be remembered by all who have been associated with him in the department as a faithful fireman. He was also a member of the Pioneer Association of Mendocino, Sonoma, Napa and Marin counties, and of the German Club of this city. The companies composing the Fire Department, and the German Club, in a body, escorted his remains to the Cemetery. At his special request his funeral was conducted by Santa Rosa Engine Co. No. 1. At the grave the German Club united in singing “Des Freundes Abschied”—The Friend’s Farewell—and the remains were committed to the grave. A wife and three children mourn the loss of a kind and affectionate husband and father. As an old citizen and member of the Fire Department we pay this tribute to his memory.

– Sonoma Democrat, November 27 1880

…One day he sent [sic. went] to a prominent merchant of the city, and was refused credit for a sack of flour. Stung to the quick, in the heat of his indignation he re-deeded half of the Plaza to Henry Mutz, Wesley Wood and A. Berry for $300 in cash. These parties endeavored to take possession of the property, but were prevented. The matter finally got into the courts, and was decided in favor of the county, to which Carrillo had originally given the land. He claimed, when he re-deeded it to Mutz, Wood and Berry, that the conditions of the gift to the county had not been fulfilled. The case was tried in Marin, and the title of the county to the land was fully sustained.

– Central Sonoma: A Brief Description of the Township and Town of Santa Rosa …
By Robert Allan Thompson 1884 pg. 69-70

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wildwest1880

2½ TALES FROM OUR WILD WEST DAYS

Jeff Elliott Leave a comment

Yay, sesquicentennial! So what was Sonoma county really like in 1868? If a movie was made of Santa Rosa in those days, would it have the flavor of the sweet little town in “The Music Man” or the sort of rough place seen in “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral?”

I recently visited the Midwest and while waiting at the St. Louis airport I met a very nice Dutch family (Jan, if you’re reading this, please get in touch; I lost your business card). They found it novel to meet someone from the West Coast, then became excited when they learned I was a local historian – to them, this place called Santa Rosa was somewhere between Deadwood and Dodge City.

Jan used to follow the Wild West festival circuit around Europe (yep, that’s really a thing). He even had a custom-made Indian costume which he said was authentic down to the eagle feathers. (NOTE: the feathers were probably imitations, as it’s illegal to sell them in the U.S.)

He peppered me with questions: Does our history museum have any guns of famous outlaws? (No, but the Masons once had a famous gun collection.) Was Billy the Kid ever here? (No.) Jesse James? (No.) Wild Bill Hickok? (No.) Buffalo Bill? (Yes, but only with his circus.) Was there an army fort? (No.) Did Indians go on the warpath? (Oh, please.) Were there gunfighter shootouts? (No.) Were there lynchings? (Sure, the last being in 1920 – which gave him such pause that he asked me to write down the year to make sure he understood correctly.)

There never really was a “Wild West” here, I explained; Sonoma county was mostly settled by farmers from places like Missouri, and as a result the people in Santa Rosa and the rest of the county acted pretty much like, well, Missouri farmers. Yeah, it was unusual that Santa Rosa cheered for the Confederacy to win the Civil War and anti-Chinese racism was virulent, but there was never exceptional violence or lawlessness in Sonoma county during the latter 19th century. Then reflecting on our conversations during my long flight back to California, I regretted portraying that our history was ever so clear cut.

First, Sonoma county indeed had the sort of Old West outlaws that so intrigued my friend from Holland – he even might have heard of the poetically-inclined “Black Bart” who robbed three stage coaches here. B.B. gets all the press, but there was also the Cloverdale-based Houx Gang in 1871 and just a bit further north there was the cattle rustling and stage robbing Buck English Gang in the mid-1870s (and yes, Jan, his gun is in a museum). This pattern of stick-em-ups continued through the next decade with Dick Fellows and others whose names were never known.

As per Missouri: Sure, Santa Rosa’s love of Dixie came from Missouri families often having deep ties to the Old South (although only about forty percent of the residents here in 1860 were born in secessionist states). But it was simplistic to say those Missouri immigrants hung on to all their Midwestern values once they were here. Even a deeply-rooted belief in civility can be degraded when someone is dropped into a frontier situation, where there are loose rules for conduct and weak institutions. All of the tales told below show the result; there are acts of impetuous behavior which never would have been tolerated back in their hometowns – including person-on-person violence and community vigilantism.

Historian Frederick Jackson Turner discussed this across several essays about the unique problems of the American frontier. When people are “unchecked by restraints of an old social order,” it didn’t matter if the frontier was the Carolinas during the 1730s, Missouri in the 1810s or California in the 1850s. The pattern was the same: American pioneers were quick to take the law into their own hands instead of waiting for the legal system to preserve order. “If the thing was one proper to be done, then the most immediate, rough and ready, effective way was the best way.” That often meant lynching or pulling out a pistol.

Turner also pointed out that “a crime was more an offense against the victim than a violation of the law” and an insult or show of disrespect could swiftly lead to violence. Add the presence of firearms and a confrontation which might never have gone beyond shouting or bloody noses can become deadly. And that brings us to the first tale from our Wild West days.

This is the “half” tale, which means I’m only summarizing it because you should read the whole story in John Schubert/Valerie Munthe’s Hidden History of Sonoma County. It’s a gripping yarn and well told by them; the book also has a chapter that reveals the history of Houx Gang (I once tried to figure out their doings, but there was so much confusing info I gave up). All together, “Hidden History” is easily the best book on Sonoma county history published in ages. My only quibbles are the lack of footnotes/endnotes, and the title grossly overpromises – a full “hidden history” would fill bookcases. As of this writing, it’s even on sale at the Santa Rosa Costco.

In 1867, Charles Henley killed James Rowland. The two farmers lived about a half-mile apart near Windsor, and there was bad blood between them because Henley’s pigs kept getting loose. Rowland corralled some of those hogs and Henley went over to fetch them, carrying a shotgun; there was a confrontation inside the pig pen and Rowland was shot dead at close range. The animals would mutilate his body until it was later discovered.

Later that night Henley visited a friend, confessed to the shooting and sought advice. The friend urged Henley to ride over to Windsor and surrender to the authorities, though he was hesitant because “they are all Odd Fellows,” as was Rowland. Henley also asked the friend not to tell his hired hand because he was likewise a I.O.O.F. member, but the man had overheard Henley’s confession anyway. Henley turned himself in the next morning and later that day, members of the Windsor Odd Fellows Lodge showed up to claim the body. Lodge members wore their badge of mourning for thirty days.

Henley was taken to the county jail to await trial. Exactly thirty days after the killing, Santa Rosa’s night watchman was surprised by four masked men. “Keep quiet,” he was told, “there are 150 of us, well-armed, and we have come to take a certain man out of jail.” The watchman was held captive and soon joined by the jailer. Another of the masked vigilantes encountered a policeman on patrol and held the officer at gunpoint.

The jailer was forced to open Henley’s cell and the prisoner was bound and gagged before being carried away. His body was found hanging about a mile west of town in what’s now the Roseland district.

There was an outcry over the lynching in both the local press and the big San Francisco newspapers, with a reward of $2,000 offered for information on the identity of the mob. Any suggestion that the masked men were Odd Fellows was met with fierce denial and the pursuit of the guilty was soon forgotten.

Then just a few days after the lynching there was another killing in Santa Rosa.

Around midnight on the night of June 20, 1867, Byrd Brumfield used his pocket knife to slash John Strong to death at Griffin’s Saloon. The number of wounds varied between 7-16, depending on who was telling the story. Although witnesses testified that Strong was running for the door at the time, the Coroner’s Jury ruled that Brumfield had killed him in self defense. Testimony also revealed Strong had a six-shooter that he may (or may not) have attempted to draw, but the verdict seemed to come down to the jury being told that nobody liked Strong  and Brumfield was a good guy.*

Between the slashing and the lynching, we can all probably agree 1867 was a pretty violent year in Santa Rosa (and remember, that was the year just before the one which we are about to sesquicentennial-ly celebrate). Still, the Sonoma Democrat boasted after Brumfield was acquitted, “to the credit of our town, that this is the first man ever killed in Santa Rosa. Few California towns can say as much.” That of course was technically true, as Henley had been just strung up outside of city limits and when Michael Ryan had buried the point of a pickaxe in his poor wife’s head two years earlier, his murder victim was not male.

Brumfield apparently decided that a pocket knife was no longer adequate for his needs. The following year he had an argument with Captain L. A. Norton and both men drew their guns. Brumfield fired four times before Norton’s sidearm left his holster and the Mexican War vet was wounded in the left hand. A jury again ruled Brumfield merely acted in self-defense.

In his youth Byrd had worked on the big Brumfield family farm, somewhere in the Russian River valley. By the 1870 census he appears at age 32 with the profession of “sporting man,” by which we can assume means he was a professional gambler. By 1875 he found himself blacklisted by all saloon owners around Healdsburg; we don’t know if that was because he was a card shark or just a violent alcoholic.

“Byrd’s on a big drunk today,” Harry Truitt warned those sitting in front of a Healdsburg Hotel on an afternoon that November. Brumfield was more than just liquored up – he was looking for a fight.

“There’s been a big poker game in town,” Byrd told a friend. “I’m going to play poker in this town,” adding he had been kept out of the bars long enough.

“They don’t treat me right in this town,” he told another, who asked, “Who don’t treat you right?”

“These Zane boys; they’ve got rich now and don’t notice a common man. I knew them when they didn’t have a cent: then they treated me all right. I’m going into Will Zane’s saloon today or die; and I’ll get away with it if I go in.”

Byrd held some sort of grudge against Willis Zane; six months earlier, Brumfield had borrowed Zane’s revolver only to turn it on the owner and attempt to kill him (or so the “special reporter” for the Sonoma Democrat wrote). Zane was warned that Byrd was drinking and telling people he intended to show up at the bar. “I’ll let them know that I’m not dead yet, but don’t care a damn how soon,” said the drunken Brumfield.

Shortly before sunset, Byrd staggered into Zane’s saloon. Willis told him twice to get out. Byrd didn’t say a word, but moved towards Willis (it was unclear whether his gun was drawn or his hand was still reaching under his coat). Zane drew his pistol from a pocket and shot three times. Byrd Brumfield was dead.

The Coroner’s Jury acquitted Zane, declaring it was justifiable homicide, but much of the testimony was a mirror image of the 1867 inquest – only this time, nobody liked Brumfield and Zane was the good guy.

The takeaway from the story is not that Byrd Brumfield was a bad guy (which is pretty indisputable); it’s how every time he had a beef with someone, he expected that other person to be armed. And he was right.

Scholars like to point out communities in the Wild West had strict no-gun laws, requiring those entering town to check firearms with a peace officer – remember the plot of “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral.” While that’s true, our local newspapers also show there were multiple “shooting affrays” every year in Sonoma county, although rarely did the incidents end in a death or even injury.

It’s doubtful anyone ever walked the mean streets of Healdsburg or Santa Rosa with a gun holstered on his hip (other than lawmen), but all those affray items reveal too many people were certainly packing under that Victorian garb. Often they were the Usual Suspects (see Male: young, drunkenness of) but others would probably be surprising. Captain Lewis A. Norton, the man Brumfield shot in the hand, was not a cocky ne’er-do-well; he was a middle-aged Healdsburg lawyer and local Democratic party bigwig, a former Justice of the Peace who ran for county judge the year before he was shot, then state senate a year after.

And sometimes the shooters were even women.


J. G. Hill of Forestville, better known as “Sock” Hill, while on his way to church at Forestville last Sunday evening, was fired at twice by Miss Georgia Travis. The first shot passed close to his left ear and through the rim of his hat, the second shot missing him entirely. Miss Travis was arrested Monday morning, on a charge of assault with intent to commit murder…

That little item appeared in the Healdsburg Enterprise and other local papers in September 1879. (The item right below it, incidentally, was another shooting affray, describing a 21 year-old Lakeport bartender killing a patron who was told to leave but went for his gun instead.)

Details emerged a few days later: Sock – whose real name was Joshua – along with two young women, were walking to a Sunday night church service, as was Georgia. As they passed Faudre’s Chair Factory (there’s a reference sure to excite Forestville historians), Georgia drew her “bull-dog” pistol and began shooting at him. After firing both shots, she handed the gun over to a man who intervened. Sock and his women friends sat through the entire service (!) then went to Santa Rosa to file a complaint. He said Georgia had been threatening to kill him for over a year and he was afraid. The Grand Jury dropped the charges for lack of evidence, and it was never explained why she wanted the 42 year-old man dead. All she ever said was that she had been “slandered” by him.

Another month passed and there was a meeting of the Forestville Blue Ribbon Club, part of a very popular nationwide evangelical temperance movement. Although it was a night of heavy rain, 60-70 still turned out including women and children. Sock Hill attended as did Georgia Travis and her brothers, Wirt and John.

John was seated two rows behind Hill, and Wirt was the same distance in front. John reached over and punched Hill in the face. Sock Hill jumped up and confronted John Travis, drawing his gun. Wirt Travis then shot Hill point blank in the base of his skull. Amazingly, he would remain conscious until he died about fifteen hours later.

Panic ensued. John Travis apparently fired his own gun and Wirt shot again, wounding a bystander in the leg as he fled the room along with the dozens of other attendees. In court testimony there would be the usual claims and counterclaims – Hill fired his gun, John did not, John socked Hill because he turned around “made a face at me,” Wirt claimed he shot Hill because he believed his brother’s life was in danger, &c.

Wirt was found guilty of manslaughter and sent to San Quentin. The jury returned a verdict of not guilty for his brother John. “One of the most exciting trials ever had in Sonoma county,” sighed the Sonoma Democrat, having stretched the sensationalist coverage over two issues.

So there you are, Jan; I was mistaken to tell you at the airport that we were just a bunch of boring ol’ Missouri farmers. There absolutely was a true gun culture here in Sonoma county, and our communities – with somewhat of an exception for Petaluma – were very much gun-toting “Wild West” towns. Here I’ve only describe some of our frontier-type violence over a dozen years, but there could be dozens of essays like this to document all our uncivil behavior in the latter 19th century.

And don’t presume the pistol-packin’ days ended with the Gaslight Era. As documented here earlier, it was common to carry a “bicycle revolver” at least through the 1910s. There was also a dramatic four-way shootout in 1907 that managed to avoid hurting anyone seriously because no one knew how to aim.

A final note: Lest anyone rush to claim that crimes were deterred in those 50+ years of locals carrying concealed weapons, let it be known that I’ve never found an incident where a good guy with a gun stopped a bad guy with a gun. Instead, it’s a miserable chronicle of holdup men using them to scare victims, fools and drunkards wielding these deadly toys at times of heated emotions, plus a hearty portion of gun owners shooting themselves by accident. Just tragedies with a dose of farce.

 

* Later that year Byrd’s sister, Jane, married an Alfred Strong, who is listed in the 1860 census as a farmer living in the Brumfield family home. I cannot find any family connection between him and John Strong. Byrd was living with the Alfred Strongs in the 1870 census.

 

Quick Work.—Santa Rosa might be called a fast place in some respects. This week a man was killed, buried, and the perpetrator examined and discharged, all in less than twenty-four hours. We may remark, to the credit of our town, that this is the first man ever killed in Santa Rosa. Few California towns can say as much.

– Sonoma Democrat, June 22 1867

 

Disgraceful. —We regret to see in the San Francisco Police Gazette a disgusting wood cut, purporting to represent Byrd Brumfield in the act of killing John Strong in Santa Rosa on the night of the 20th of June. The Gazette was grossly deceived by its informant in regard to the relations of the parties, circumstances of the killing, and burial of Strong. The latter, we learn, was buried under directions of a relative, had a good coffin, and was decently interred.

– Sonoma Democrat, July 6 1867

 

Testimony in the Case of the People vs Brumfield

[inquest]

– Sonoma Democrat, October 26 1867

 

Death of Byrd Brumfield.

[inquest]

– Russian River Flag, November 18 1875
– Sonoma Democrat, November 20 1875

 

From Forestvllle. Our regular correspondent writes us November 11th, as follows; “Forestvllle against the world. We have said this before and have occasion to reiterate it now. Saturday night last, 8th Inst., was one of our dark limes, and we were pained to witness such scenes as then occurred in our usually quiet village. As our tempetauce club was about to be called to order its peace and quiet was disturbed and the lives of women and children endangered by two brothers, Wirt and John Travis, who assaulted and shot to death J. G. Hill. The meeting was of course broken up for the evening, and the Society will hereafter convene at the Christian Church instead of the hall. Mr. Hill’s funeral took place at 2 o’clock on Monday, and the high esteem in which he was held by the community was manifested in the unusually large number of persons who attended the obsequies, over three hundred persons escorting his remains to the grave. He was a kind hearted man; one who was always ready to help the needy and to accommodate his neighbors. During an acquaintance of twelve years your correspondent always found him correct in his dealings, and his neighbors generally deplore his untimely death.

– Sonoma Democrat, November 15 1879

 

People Vs. Wirt Travis

[testimony]

– Sonoma Democrat, March 20 and 27 1880

 

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