When one thinks of the lawmen of the Old West, such figure as Wyatt Earp, Bat Masterson, Wild Bill Hickok and Pat Garrett come to mind. Each of them established their reputations as peace officers long after the California Gold Rush.
The Gold Rush not only produced America's most violent frontier, it also produced some of the frontier's finest lawmen. But few western peace officers could match the skill, daring, and longevity of Ben Thorn, the iron-willed lawman of Calaveras County.
Ben Thorn served continuously as a law officer in Calaveras County from 1855 until his retirement almost half a century later, in 1903. During his long career he captured scores of dangerous outlaws including the mankiller "Longhair Sam" Brown, and in 1883 played a prominent role in the manhunt for Charles E. Boles, alias Black Bart, America's most prolific stagecoach robber. He took part in numerous hair-raising gun battles, and superstitious Mexicans and Indians came to believe that he led a charmed life and that no knife or bullet could kill him.
Benjamin Kent Thorn was born in Plattsburg, New York, on December 22 1829. In 1849 he joined the Gold Rush to California. He began mining on the Yuba River in the Northern Mines, but by 1850 he drifted south to the diggings in Calaveras County where he would spend the rest of his life.
Ned Bushyhead, constable of El Dorado Mining District in 1850's worked with Ben Thorn in law enforcement may times. He was the lead man in capture of Bill Holt, a well known outlaw in the McKinney Diggins - Cave City area. They worked together on many jobs including the hanging in old El Dorado December 1864, and the stage coach hold-up in 1892.
Ben Thorn's first law enforcement experience began in the spring of 1853, when, like hundreds of other miners in Calaveras County, he helped search for the rampaging gang of bandidos led by Joaquin Murrieta.
Ben Thorn soon became noted for reckless bravado, and on April 15, 1855, Charles A. Clarke, sheriff of Calaveras County, appointed him a deputy.
It was not long before the young Deputy Thorn tackled one of the worst bands of toughs in the gold region. Their leader was Longhair Sam Brown. San Brown fled Mariposa and soon turned up in Calaveras County at the head of a band of gamblers and hardcases. On July 8, 1855, while running a monte game in Upper Calaveritas, Longhair Sam and a comrade, Hugh "Bunty" Owens, got into a row with several gamblers.
A bystander raced to Ben Thorn's mining claim at San Antonio camp and reported the killings. Thorn, after obtaining warrants for the arrest of Brown and Owens, started after the killers with a fellow miner, Ed Hopkins. They rode all night in search and by daybreak learned that the bad men were holed up with four other members of the gang in a cabin on O'Neill Creek.
Thorn and Hopkins took the pair to a sawmill on San Antonio Creek owned by Orrin Spencer, the justice of the peace.
Within a few months after his capture of San Brown, Ben Thorn was again in the saddle after dangerous outlaws. On August 6, 1855, in the so-called Rancheria Tragedy, a gang of Hispanic bandits raided the mining camp of Rancheria in Amador County, just north of Calaveras.
There they learned that Calaveras County Sheriff Charles Clarke had caught up with the mounted bandits at Texas Bar on the Calaveras River. Clarke and his men, one of whom was undoubtedly Ben Thorn, had engaged the bandidos in a sharp gunfight and managed to shoot and capture one of them.
One of Ben Thorn's most notable exploits was his encounter with Santiago Molino, a dangerous desperado who reported to have killed six men in the mining country. Ben trailed and killed Molino.
Just a few of the many exploits of Ben Thorn, a true Western Lawman.
After the Gold Rush many forty-niners drifted on to new mining frontiers. Ben Thorn, however, stayed, married built a mansion (which is still standing) in San Andreas, raised two daughters and became a power in local politics.
He served as undersheriff for Sheriff Bob Paul from 1860 to 1864 and was sheriff of Calaveras County from 1868 to 1876, then worked as a Wells, Fargo detective, and again was county sheriff from 1880 to 1903.
During the 1880's and 1890's he was, next to his friend Tom Cunningham of Stockton, the most famous sheriff in California. When he died on November 15, 1905,, the San Francisco Call gave simple but elegant praise: "In the days when laws were loose, when the bandit, the stage robber, and the horse thief abounded, when life was cheap and men lived in the frontier stage of existence, Thorn's name was a terror to the criminal."
Showing posts with label Gold Rush Outlaws. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gold Rush Outlaws. Show all posts
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Devoto, One of the Early Families in Old Eldorado Camp
Benidito Devoto came to Calaveras County in the early 1860‘s. He came from Italy around the horn in a clipper ship. Two years later he sent for his wife Rosa. He traveled from San Francisco to El Dorado Camp by hitching rides on wagons heading for the gold fields.
By working hard and saving what little he did make from mining he was able to buy a small lot and adobe building in El Dorado. Later he purchased a small acreage northeast of town and put in a vineyard. He soon became one of the finest wine makers in the area. Near his vineyard he also found gold valued at $800 in one pocket. He also lost one eye in a mining accident.
There was a bakery in El Dorado as early as 1858. Mr. Devoto’s bakery is listed on the township map of 1872. We believe he bought the same bakery that was operated in the early days. It was in an adobe building behind the present candle shop.
In his later years grandfather Devoto told of Joaquin Murietta coming over Butcher Hill from Cave City to his bakery to get sacks of bread. When business was poor for Murietta he did not offer to pay. When the pickings were right he often rewarded the baker very well. Mr. Devoto never spoke of this during the time it happened. No one spoke of Murietta at that time for fear of reprisal. His gang was known throughout California as cold-blooded killers.
The Devotos lived behind the bakery in small living quarters. Later with the help of his two sons he built the existing Devoto home which stands next to the stone Dughi building which is now the Lutheran Church, the oldest wooden building in town. The sons exchanged work for lumber from Wiggins Sawmill on Jesus Maria Creek. Joe Cuneo helped with the carpentry work on this house.
Benidito Devoto was born in Italy in 1828, died in El Dorado in 1917; his wife was born in 1832, died 1923.
They had five children, one died as an infant. Louis was born 1864, died 1929; Jennie born 1872, died March 29, 1967 age 94; Joe born 1869, died 1943; Auralia born 1875, died 1951.
The children went to school at the old Fischer School north of El Dorado. Louis later became Justice of the Peace in San Andreas. He moved to San Francisco. At one time he was assistant treasurer for the city, later became head of the Board of Health and finally was elected to the assembly. When he first moved to San Francisco he worked as a guard at San Quentin and also as a bartender on the infamous Barbary Coast. He was known all his life as “Judge”. Louis married Mame Coran.
A son Francis was born in 1897 in San Francisco. A daughter born in 1902 was named Maria Rose.
Francis went to the St. Mary Catholic School in San Francisco and later went to Lincoln Public School in Oakland after the earthquake in 1906. He was living with his parents on Minna Street in San Francisco when the earthquake hit. He was nine years old. The morning of the quake Francis was awakened by his father. By the time Louis got his family together the house had moved two feet off its foundation and there were cracks in the walls large enough to walk through.
Louis was a big man, over six feet tall, he picked up his son and jumped through a hole in the wall, leaped several large cracks in the earth until they had reached safety. He returned to the house several times to get the rest of his family and some supplies.
As they wandered about the city trying to find a place away from the fires, Francis can remember seeing tongues of flames licking out of every window in the Call Newspaper building. Fires started everywhere, there was no water to fight with, the lines had broken from the quake so many buildings were blasted down by the fire fighters. Many people were hysterical and untold numbers were killed.
The Devoto family stayed two days in Golden Gate Park. It was a haven for many homeless families. They they moved out of town with family friends. When the family gathered what was left after the quake they moved to Oakland.
Francis’ uncle Joe lived in Mountain Ranch for many years. He was postmaster here in 1894. He married Louise Rodesino, sister to Johanna Rodesino, who was killed in a stage hold-up.
Later he moved to San Francisco where Louis set him up as a partner in a saloon. He also moved to Oakland after the earthquake. He bought a saloon at 7th and Broadway called the “Station Saloon”. Lew Powell, a promising young fighter, became close friends of Joe and Louis Devoto. Lew Powell spent his life in the fighting game and was considered the most colorful fighter of his day. He spent his retired years at Mountain Ranch. Joe Devoto had no children. Lew Powell’s daughter still owns the Powell Ranch off Banner Road.
Francis’ Aunt Jennie became postmaster in Mountain Ranch in 1906 after working for many years in the post office. In fact, she took care of the post office when Joe, her brother, was postmaster.
Francis moved from Oakland to Mountain Ranch in 1908 when he was eleven years old. He lived with his Aunt Jennie.
Francis went to school in Mountain Ranch. Elba Ames was one of his teachers. He used to ride the butcher’s wagon from San Andreas, operated by Jim Uland, who served the El Dorado - Cave City area selling fresh meats. Francis said he kept towns clear of flies, as they followed the meat wagon wherever he went.
He moved back to Oakland when he was 13 to work for Southern Pacific Railroad as an apprentice machinist for 15 cents an hour. Later he worked for the Telephone Co. collecting money from pay phones. He spent two years in Dunsmuir for his health but working in a billiard parlor did not seem to do much good.
He missed the first World War because he was working on the railroad. After the war he made two trips to Europe as a pump man on an oil tanker for the Tri-Mountain Oil Co.
Francis returned to Mountain Ranch in the early 1930‘s to work part time for A. Domenghini. He also worked some in the Sheep Ranch Store. Later when Atillio took sick he went to work full time for Louis Domenghini in the general store. His first marriage did not work out and he married Mabel Dale Hatch in 1946. Francis worked for the Domenghini family for over 30 years. He retired in 1965 when the Domenghini Estate was sold to Alberts Family and has since passed away.
The Domenghini General Store fixtures and old merchandise as well as old photos is now on display at the Red Barn Museum, donated by Phil and Florence Alberts.
By working hard and saving what little he did make from mining he was able to buy a small lot and adobe building in El Dorado. Later he purchased a small acreage northeast of town and put in a vineyard. He soon became one of the finest wine makers in the area. Near his vineyard he also found gold valued at $800 in one pocket. He also lost one eye in a mining accident.
There was a bakery in El Dorado as early as 1858. Mr. Devoto’s bakery is listed on the township map of 1872. We believe he bought the same bakery that was operated in the early days. It was in an adobe building behind the present candle shop.
In his later years grandfather Devoto told of Joaquin Murietta coming over Butcher Hill from Cave City to his bakery to get sacks of bread. When business was poor for Murietta he did not offer to pay. When the pickings were right he often rewarded the baker very well. Mr. Devoto never spoke of this during the time it happened. No one spoke of Murietta at that time for fear of reprisal. His gang was known throughout California as cold-blooded killers.
The Devotos lived behind the bakery in small living quarters. Later with the help of his two sons he built the existing Devoto home which stands next to the stone Dughi building which is now the Lutheran Church, the oldest wooden building in town. The sons exchanged work for lumber from Wiggins Sawmill on Jesus Maria Creek. Joe Cuneo helped with the carpentry work on this house.
Benidito Devoto was born in Italy in 1828, died in El Dorado in 1917; his wife was born in 1832, died 1923.
They had five children, one died as an infant. Louis was born 1864, died 1929; Jennie born 1872, died March 29, 1967 age 94; Joe born 1869, died 1943; Auralia born 1875, died 1951.
The children went to school at the old Fischer School north of El Dorado. Louis later became Justice of the Peace in San Andreas. He moved to San Francisco. At one time he was assistant treasurer for the city, later became head of the Board of Health and finally was elected to the assembly. When he first moved to San Francisco he worked as a guard at San Quentin and also as a bartender on the infamous Barbary Coast. He was known all his life as “Judge”. Louis married Mame Coran.
A son Francis was born in 1897 in San Francisco. A daughter born in 1902 was named Maria Rose.
Francis went to the St. Mary Catholic School in San Francisco and later went to Lincoln Public School in Oakland after the earthquake in 1906. He was living with his parents on Minna Street in San Francisco when the earthquake hit. He was nine years old. The morning of the quake Francis was awakened by his father. By the time Louis got his family together the house had moved two feet off its foundation and there were cracks in the walls large enough to walk through.
Louis was a big man, over six feet tall, he picked up his son and jumped through a hole in the wall, leaped several large cracks in the earth until they had reached safety. He returned to the house several times to get the rest of his family and some supplies.
As they wandered about the city trying to find a place away from the fires, Francis can remember seeing tongues of flames licking out of every window in the Call Newspaper building. Fires started everywhere, there was no water to fight with, the lines had broken from the quake so many buildings were blasted down by the fire fighters. Many people were hysterical and untold numbers were killed.
The Devoto family stayed two days in Golden Gate Park. It was a haven for many homeless families. They they moved out of town with family friends. When the family gathered what was left after the quake they moved to Oakland.
Francis’ uncle Joe lived in Mountain Ranch for many years. He was postmaster here in 1894. He married Louise Rodesino, sister to Johanna Rodesino, who was killed in a stage hold-up.
Later he moved to San Francisco where Louis set him up as a partner in a saloon. He also moved to Oakland after the earthquake. He bought a saloon at 7th and Broadway called the “Station Saloon”. Lew Powell, a promising young fighter, became close friends of Joe and Louis Devoto. Lew Powell spent his life in the fighting game and was considered the most colorful fighter of his day. He spent his retired years at Mountain Ranch. Joe Devoto had no children. Lew Powell’s daughter still owns the Powell Ranch off Banner Road.
Francis’ Aunt Jennie became postmaster in Mountain Ranch in 1906 after working for many years in the post office. In fact, she took care of the post office when Joe, her brother, was postmaster.
Francis moved from Oakland to Mountain Ranch in 1908 when he was eleven years old. He lived with his Aunt Jennie.
Francis went to school in Mountain Ranch. Elba Ames was one of his teachers. He used to ride the butcher’s wagon from San Andreas, operated by Jim Uland, who served the El Dorado - Cave City area selling fresh meats. Francis said he kept towns clear of flies, as they followed the meat wagon wherever he went.
He moved back to Oakland when he was 13 to work for Southern Pacific Railroad as an apprentice machinist for 15 cents an hour. Later he worked for the Telephone Co. collecting money from pay phones. He spent two years in Dunsmuir for his health but working in a billiard parlor did not seem to do much good.
He missed the first World War because he was working on the railroad. After the war he made two trips to Europe as a pump man on an oil tanker for the Tri-Mountain Oil Co.
Francis returned to Mountain Ranch in the early 1930‘s to work part time for A. Domenghini. He also worked some in the Sheep Ranch Store. Later when Atillio took sick he went to work full time for Louis Domenghini in the general store. His first marriage did not work out and he married Mabel Dale Hatch in 1946. Francis worked for the Domenghini family for over 30 years. He retired in 1965 when the Domenghini Estate was sold to Alberts Family and has since passed away.
The Domenghini General Store fixtures and old merchandise as well as old photos is now on display at the Red Barn Museum, donated by Phil and Florence Alberts.
Friday, August 15, 2014
The Ballad of Johanna Rodesino, by Tim & Kate Laddish of Sheep Ranch
Last Feb. we wrote an article about this stage hold-up.
We thought this would be a great ending to that story.
Reprinted today by special permission of Tim Laddish, from The Ghost...
The Ballad of Johanna Rodesino
You can yell and stamp and fire your guns
To celebrate this plaque
To celebrate this plaque
But when you're done and had your fun
I'd like to take you back
I heard the blast; I saw the flare
Of the shotgun's wicked play --
And if I'm asked, I'll tell you fair
See, I was there that day.
'Twas the thirtieth of April back
In eighteen ninety-two;
We were ratt-l-ing along by stage,
The dust was flying through.
I chatted with Johanna
And with our chaperone,
We three had gone to San Andreas;
Only two would reach dear home.
Johanna and I were girls together
We'd shared a desk at school
From pigtails to longer skirts
We'd lived the Golden Rule
Sewing patchwork by the Summer's creek
Watching Winter's creek in flood
Together since we were little girls,
We were sisters in all but blood.
Now 15 we'd caught the eyes
of local older boys,
Like Sheep Ranch's Babe Raggio,
Seventeen, with strength and poise.
Our stage came round that curve right there,
Babe was driving us that day;
Mike Tovey rode as shotgun, he'd
Protect the miners' pay.
Then two blasts were shot by someone else;
No warning did he give.
Babe slumped and groaned and looked as if
He had not long to live.
Mike tied Babe on, then took the reins,
To find both help and hope;
The gunman made no move to rob;
He vanished up that slope.
I looked about and saw, I thought,
Johanna slumped in faint;
But when I bent to comfort her,
I saw the dark red seeping taint.
I looked about and saw, I thought,
Johanna slumped in faint;
But when I bent to comfort her,
I saw the dark red seeping taint.
"Oh robber", I cried, "you can take my purse,
"Take my gold and freely spend,
"But villain, you've done so much worse,
"You've robbed me of my friend."
Your plaque says I was a girl "unhurt,"
But I am here to say
My heart still bleeds for what it lost
When Johanna died that day.
My heart still bleeds for what it lost
When Johanna died that day.
Monday, July 14, 2014
Outlaws of El Dorado
The most famous dirty deed of note locally was the attempted stage hold-up and murder on Mountain Ranch Road in April of 1892 where 15 year old Johanna Rodesino was killed. She is buried in Mountain Ranch. No treasure was taken and the bandit was never apprehended.
In Dec. of 1864 a Chinaman stabbed a storekeeper in Cave City and he was brought to El Dorado after his capture. The storekeeper died so the good people of El Dorado hung the Chinaman. It is believed the huge oak tree across from the Blunder Inn is that tree.
In 1883 that iron-willed lawman of Calaveras County played a prominent role in the manhunt for Charles E. Boles, alias Black Bart. Ben Thorn’s first law job was in the spring of 1853 when he helped search for Joaquin Murrieta. Joaquin spent time in old El Dorado getting supplies, especially from the bakery operated by Julin Paterey which was located behind the present candle shop.
Ben was involved in the capture of long hair Sam Brown in 1855 which started in Upper Calaveritas and ended on O’Neil Creek.
Ben Thorn died on Nov. 15th, 1905 and was a law officer in Calaveras County for 50 years. His home still stands in San Andreas today.
In 1851 at Whiskey Slide, just north of Mountain Ranch, a miner was found murdered in his cabin one morning. The whole place had been ransacked. Fifteen years later another miner came and built a new cabin on the hill. He heard from a dying companion that the murdered man had hidden his treasures under the floor of the cabin.
The man who built the second cabin finally found the gold over $10,000 worth... but then became obsessed by the idea that the gold was haunted. At last, in terror he reburied it, shortly after telling his story he went mad and was confined in the Stockton Asylum, where he died. No one has ever reported finding this hidden treasure. Another tale of the Gold Rush days that lies buried forever.
The San Andreas Independent of Dec. 4, 1858, tells of a desperate fight at El Dorado in which two Americans were killed. Two Mexicans escaped but the third was captured. He was later freed for want of sufficient testimony. The Mexicans did not live in El Dorado. Because of early racial problems with the Mexicans in San Andreas, very few were ever known to live and work near El Dorado or Mountain Ranch.
As early as 1849 Ned Bushyhead, born in the Cherokee Nation, was the constable of El Dorado Mining District. Before 1849 El Dorado Camp was a gathering place for individuals looking to get away from the law. These were just rough and tumble gentlemen who did not want to tow the line when it came to community betterment ideas.
There were many law abiding citizens in El Dorado so as a complete community we were pretty safe. The Zwinge family was involved in law enforcement for a couple generations.
So if you are lucky enough to live in Mountain Ranch, then you are lucky enough.
In Dec. of 1864 a Chinaman stabbed a storekeeper in Cave City and he was brought to El Dorado after his capture. The storekeeper died so the good people of El Dorado hung the Chinaman. It is believed the huge oak tree across from the Blunder Inn is that tree.
In 1883 that iron-willed lawman of Calaveras County played a prominent role in the manhunt for Charles E. Boles, alias Black Bart. Ben Thorn’s first law job was in the spring of 1853 when he helped search for Joaquin Murrieta. Joaquin spent time in old El Dorado getting supplies, especially from the bakery operated by Julin Paterey which was located behind the present candle shop.
Ben was involved in the capture of long hair Sam Brown in 1855 which started in Upper Calaveritas and ended on O’Neil Creek.
Ben Thorn died on Nov. 15th, 1905 and was a law officer in Calaveras County for 50 years. His home still stands in San Andreas today.
In 1851 at Whiskey Slide, just north of Mountain Ranch, a miner was found murdered in his cabin one morning. The whole place had been ransacked. Fifteen years later another miner came and built a new cabin on the hill. He heard from a dying companion that the murdered man had hidden his treasures under the floor of the cabin.
The man who built the second cabin finally found the gold over $10,000 worth... but then became obsessed by the idea that the gold was haunted. At last, in terror he reburied it, shortly after telling his story he went mad and was confined in the Stockton Asylum, where he died. No one has ever reported finding this hidden treasure. Another tale of the Gold Rush days that lies buried forever.
The San Andreas Independent of Dec. 4, 1858, tells of a desperate fight at El Dorado in which two Americans were killed. Two Mexicans escaped but the third was captured. He was later freed for want of sufficient testimony. The Mexicans did not live in El Dorado. Because of early racial problems with the Mexicans in San Andreas, very few were ever known to live and work near El Dorado or Mountain Ranch.
As early as 1849 Ned Bushyhead, born in the Cherokee Nation, was the constable of El Dorado Mining District. Before 1849 El Dorado Camp was a gathering place for individuals looking to get away from the law. These were just rough and tumble gentlemen who did not want to tow the line when it came to community betterment ideas.
There were many law abiding citizens in El Dorado so as a complete community we were pretty safe. The Zwinge family was involved in law enforcement for a couple generations.
So if you are lucky enough to live in Mountain Ranch, then you are lucky enough.
Black Bart in Mountain Ranch?
Sat. Nov. 3, 1883 was cold and clear with a sharp wind. R.E. McConnell, driver for the Nevada Stage Company had been up early preparing for his run to Milton from Sonora. He was carrying no passengers, only a small amount of gold coin and 228 ounces of amalgam (a gold and mercury mixture).
After Jimmy Rolleri had taken McConnell and his stage acress the Stanislaus River on the ferry he operated, he suggested that he ride over to Copperopolis with him, hoping he could find something to shoot.
As the stage stared up Funk Hill, Jimmy got off in hopes he would find better game. He could cut cross country and meet the stage on the other side. As McConnell neared the top of Funk Hill he turned his head to look at some movement in the bushes and he looked straight into the muzzle of a shotgun.
Black Bart had been watching the stage through a powerful field glass and he saw a driver and a boy on the front seat. Between the hillside and his position Jimmy had dismounted. When the stage drew up and was halted by Bart, his face concealed by a flour sack slipped over his head, at once demanded: “Where’s the other man.”
McConnell said he had gone hunting and that it was a boy not a man,, to which Bart responded in his usual deep voice, “Get Down.” Bart did not use his usual command of “Throw down the box” because he knew that in this case the chest was inside the stage and fastened securely to the floor. Bart had visited the Patterson Mine earlier in the week and found out all the details of the shipment.
McConnell dismounted and unhitched as he was told. Bart ordered him to take his horses on up the hill and over the crest out of sight. Bart then hammered open the treasure box with an old axe he carried just for this purpose.
McConnell could hear Bart hammering away at the box so he did not hear the movement in the brush until Jimmy Rolleri was almost upon him He attracted Jimmy’s attention and signaled him to walk in detour around the foot of the hill and come to him out of sight of Black Bart. Jimmy was a smart boy so he knew something was wrong.
When Jimmy got up to the driver they made their way to the crest of the hill just as Black Bart was backing out of the stage with his treasure. They fired three shots with Jimmy’s rifle.
On the last shot Bart stumbled and dropped a bundle but held on to the sack and disappeared into the brush.
McConnell and Jimmy gathered up what had been scattered, hitched up and drove to Copperopolis to report. Wires were sent to the Calaveras County Sheriff at San Andreas and Wells Fargo and Co. at San Francisco.
Sheriff Ben K. Thorn was a quite thorough man. He found many clues, a leather case for field glasses, a belt, a quartz magnifying glass, a razor, a handkerchief, two linen cuffs, and two flour sacks. He also found the laundry mark on the handkerchief .F.X.0.7.
Sheriff Ben Thorn, J.B. Hume of Wells, Fargo and Co., his special detective Harry Morse , and Capt. Stone of the San Francisco police went to work on the case. In just one week Nov. 12th the mark was traced to a laundry at 316 Bush St., San Francisco, operated by Thomas C. Ware. The mark belongs to a Mr. C.E. Bolton, a mining man A family bible and discharge from the 116th Illinois Volunteer Infantry listed his name as Charles E. Boles.
Mr Bolton was a man dressed elegantly, carrying a little cane. He wore a small Derby hat, a diamond pin, a large diamond ring, and a heavy gold watch and chain. He was five feet seven inches tall, straight, broad shoulders with blue eyes and a large gray mustache.
Bart was arrested and taken to San Andreas. Sheriff Thorn met the boat at Stockton along with a large group of curious. Bart was photographed at Stockton adn kept in jail overnight. The next morning they started early for San Andreas by way of Milton. At San Andreas there was another crowd who for the first minute or two mistook Morse for Black Bart and took the well dressed prisoner for the detective. This seemed to please Bart a great deal. Bart was kept in the San Andreas jail.
On Nov. 16th, Bart appeared before Justice P.H. Kean of San Andreas and said he wanted to plead guilty. On the next day Bart was brought before Judge C.V. Gottschalk and asked the court to pronounce judgement. The minutes of these proceedings read: “Whereas the said C.E. Bolton has been duly convicted of robbery by his own confession, it is therefore ordered, adjudged and decreed that the said C.E. Bolton be punished by imprisonment in the state prison of Calif. for the term of six years.”
Sheriff Thorn escorted Bart to San Quentin Prison on Nov. 21, 1883. He was committed as prisoner number 11046. Bart settled into prison routine and was a model prisoner.
On Jan. 21, 1888 Charles E. Bolton was released from San Quentin, his term completed, the law satisfied. There is no sound proof that anybody anywhere ever saw Black Bart again. There were many stories of stage hold-ups and personal visits by Black Bart but nothing was ever proven. It is a matter of record, however, that Bolton spent much of the two years of his parole in Calaveras County after his release.
Charles E. Bolton was born in New York in 1828. His early years remain a mystery as do his later ones. He came to CA as a young man in 1850 to seek his fortune in mining like so many young men of his day. He left a wife and two daughters behind in Hannibal, Mo. In 1863 he returned to serve in the 116th Illinois Volunteer Infantry during the civil war. In 1865 he again returned to CA to teach school in Concord, CA but lost this job due to his fondness for gambling. For the next 10 years he traveled northern CA never holding one job very long.
On July 26th, 1875 the Milton-Sonora stage was held up and this is where Bart left his famous poem;
“I’ve labored long and hard for bread
For honor and for riches
But on my corns too long you’ve tread
You fine haired sons of bitches”
Over two years later he held up his second stage on Aug. 3rd, 1877 on the Russian River. Here he left his second poem and his last. In Black Bart’s twenty eight stage hold-ups he wrote only two poems, but they were enough to earn him the title of PO-8 for the rest of his life. His second poem was;
“Here I lay me down to sleep
To wait the coming morrow
Perhaps success, perhaps defeat
And everlasting sorrow
Let come what will I’ll try it on
My condition can’t be worse
And if there’s money in that box
‘Tis munny in my purse”
Two men claim to have seen Black Bart following his release from prison in 1888. John Ross has a picture that supposedly shows Bart in about 1892. It was taken at the Union Copper Mine Boarding House in Copperopolis. The small boy in the picture is Ross.
According to Ross’s father, the highly respected Gilbert Ross, Bart came to visit his friends in Copperopolis and this picture was taken.
Romi Rolleri says that he also saw Bart when he visited Angels Camp after his release. Rolleri says that Bart came and stayed at the old Calaveras Hotel in Angels Camp
Bart came to see Jim Rolleri who had been instrumental in Bart’s arrest and conviction . Jim Rolleri had died while Bart was in prison, but one of his brothers revisited the site of the robbery on Funk Hill with Black Bart. The visit was common knowledge with the old timers in Angels Camp according to Romi.
In Sept. of 1968 both the Stockton Record and the Calaveras Enterprise reported that Phil D. Alberts discovered, on his property in Mountain Ranch, Calaveras County, a smooth moss-covered stone at the head of a mound of dirt and rocks that resembled a grave site. An initial has been chiseled on the stone. Initial “B”. Its location remains a well-guarded secret.
Alberts himself a historical writer, has made inquiry among many of the old timers in the area who might have some knowledge of what definitely appears to be a grave. No one can recall a local buried on the property. Until Alberts purchased the land a few years ago it had been part of the Domenghini Ranch since 1872, and before that it had belonged to a man named Pugini.
For many years there has been more than a little speculation among old timers here that Black Bart was secretly buried in Calaveras by well-meaning friends to prevent possible desecration of his grave or body, as was done in the case of Joaquin Murietta.
Those who follow this theory say that Bart was pleased with the use of his initials and often used them instead of a full signature. They contend that the simple letter “B” would have pleased Charles Bolton, alias Black Bart.
Even if it does not contain the remains of Black Bart, the grave still presents a mystery, and, who knows, perhaps the ghost of Black Bart is close to Mountain Ranch and the Ghost from Dirty Gulch than many suspect.
Phil D. Alberts,
“the Ghost from Dirty Gulch”
The Monument
The monument erected on Mountain Ranch Road
January 12, 1963, reads:
ATTEMPTED STAGE ROBBERY
At this place April 30, 1892 without warning
a lone bandit fired two charges of buckshot
into the stage carrying the payroll for the
Sheep Ranch Mine. Miss Johanna Rodesino a
passenger was instantly killed. Babe Raggio
driver was severely wounded. Mike Tovey
messenger was slightly wounded, Miss Agnes
Filipini and Mrs. A.Lloyd passengers were unhurt.
No treasure was taken and the bandit was
never apprehended.
Erected Jan. 12, 1963
by
Matuca Chapter E. CLAMPUS VITUS
and
CALAVERAS HISTORICAL SOCIETY
The monument was erected in memory of Miss Rodesino who was 15 years old. She was from one of the pioneer families of Mountain Ranch. Her grandfather, G. Rodesino, built the two-story stone building which housed Senders Market before it burned down Christmas of 1968. She is buried at the Mountain Ranch Cemetary, marked by a beautiful head stone.
You can still see the marks of the buckshot on the oak tree behind the monument. You should stop some time and read the monument.
The following story appeared in the San Andreas newspaper:
April 30th, 1892
A BLOODY TRAGEDY
A LONE ROBBER’S WORK NEAR SAN ANDREAS
MURDER OF MISS RODESINO
The Sheep Ranch Stage Fired Upon on Willow Creek. Chase of the Villain.
Last Saturday morning between nine and ten o’clock the people of San Andreas were startled by the reappearance of the Sheep Ranch stage, which only about two hours beforehand had left this place for its usual trip. They were more than startled when it was learned from the lips of the messenger the extent of the tragedy which had occurred. The details of the case are known to most of our readers probably before they will see this, yet we shall endeavor to give it a truthful account.
When the Sheep Ranch stage left here Saturday morning, it continued besides the driver Well’s Fargo & Co. messenger, Mike Tovey, Miss Johanna Rodesino, Miss Aggie Fillippini and Mrs. A. Lloyd, and quite an amount of coin for the Sheep Ranch mine. Everything went along all right for about five miles, when as the stage was ascending a slight incline just above the forks of the road, where a branch goes through the Agostini Ranch to Old Gulch, suddenly without a word of warning a shot was fired into the stage from the left hand side. With scarcely a groan Miss Rodesino who was on the middle seat fell into the arms of one of her companions, shot through the head.
The messenger who was on the front seat sprang to the ground, but as he did so young Raggio, the driver known to all as “Babe”, pitched forward with an apparently mortal wound through the chest. As he fell he explained, “They have killed me Tovey, but look out for the horses.” Miss Fillippini also sprang out and managed to catch a glimpse of the robber, who seeing that he had failed to kill the messenger, which was his evident intention, immediately fled.
Tovey drove the stage to Sperry’s house, about a quarter of a mile distant, where the extent of the tragedy was soon seen. The wounded girl just gasped and expired as she was being lifted from the stage, and it was found that she received three shots one in the head causing death and the others in the body. Young Raggio had two shots about an inch apart, and ranging into the lung, one shot in the right shoulder and one grazing the neck. The messenger had one shot through the right arm near the shoulder, but nothing serious. The top of the stage was shattered by the shot, which was fired from above. Evidently most of the shot that took effect, first cam through the top of the stage. Probably a sudden lurch of the stage saved the messenger’s life.
On examining the ground it was found that the assassin had located himself in the most favorable position for his nefarious purpose. A complete wall of rock, screened by trees formed a fortress from which a dozen men could not have dislodged him by possibility of an attack in front. From this position at less then forty feet he had poured the contents of his gun upon the unconscious victims. The man was evidently a coward for he made no attempt to follow up his first attack.
After the dead and dying were in good hands messenger Tovey took the stage team and drove back to town with the coin, and left it at Well’s Fargo & Co. office. It did not take long for the news to spread through the town, and instantly all was excitement. The streets were quickly crowded with excited and angry men, who almost instantly dispersed again for arms and horses, and soon nearly every able bodied man was on the way to the scene. Sheriff Thorn with constables Masterson and Hawes, and deputy constable Getchell, were among the first to go, and deputy Getchell and Frank Washburn were the first to arrive on the ground. Search for the trail was quickly begun, and the well defined track of the man was soon found. The country is extremely wild and brushy and the fugitive took the roughest and most difficult routes.
In the party were many that were familiar with that wilderness of mountains and deep ravines, and they managed to follow the trail pretty closely, though at times losing it in the dense thickets.
The trail led across Murray Creek, which he crossed between George’s place and Hodes. Up over the limestone hill the hunters followed to where the man had evidently stood for a time taking observations, the imprint of a butt of a gun being plainly visible. From there he turned westward, and shortly afterward the track changed as though he had taken off his shoes, or wrapped them in something.
Late in the afternoon the severe labor began to tell on the searchers, and one by one they returned to their homes. Only C. W. Getchell and his father continued on towards the old Doak place, near which place Mr. Getchell found a stick of giant powder, evidently dropped by the fugitive. Night was coming on and the search was reluctantly abandoned for the night, the trail being lost in what is known as the big chaparral, near Doaks.
Sunday detective J.B. Hume of Wells Fargo & Co. arrived in town, and took charge of the search. Very little clue is in the hands of the officers, but no stone will be left unturned to bring the wretch to justice.
Sunday morning the coin was taken to Sheep Ranch by a special messenger, on the usual stage. It shows something of the stuff that our California boys are made of, that driver a little older than the wounded Raggio, should be found ready to take the vacant seat, beside a shot gun messenger, and safely take that fateful coin to its destination.
The heroic “Babe” thinking only of his duty while writhing from what he thought to be his death wound, and the brave Waters who was ready to take his place, will perhaps never be known outside of their own circle, but “Don’t give up the ship,” was not more heroic than “They have killed me Tovey, but look out for the horses.”
The Great Ride
Dave “Swede” Zwinge was constable in El Dorado Camp, now Mountain Ranch, in 1910. He was paid $40 per month and carried a 5 shot 38 cal. Iver Johnson pistol now owned by the Alberts Family. Just over 6 ft. 6 inches tall this big lawman had a reputation of getting the job done.
Many colorful tales have been told of this big daredevil but none as wild as this ride he took on his faithful black horse this Jan. day in 1910.
The story began when a white man named John Thomas from the Glencoe area was murdered. An American who some thought had committed the crime, accused a young half breed Indian named Two Dog.
The so-called Glencoe Rangers, nothing more than self appointed vigilantes, attacked the temporary jail where Swede had housed Two Dog. Swede and his helpers were able to repulse the Rangers but Two Dog was shot, not fatally. As soon as Two Dog recovered he was placed on trial. Hanging the poor Indian was foremost on their minds.
Judge A.I. McSorely was the one officiating at the trial. The local D.A. presented his case and the jury found poor Two Dog guilty. Judge McSorely sentenced Two Dog to life imprisonment at San Quentin.
The Glencoe Rangers wanted to hang Two Dog and they waited for Swede to come out of the court room to the jail. Swede was ready for whatever would happen. He had his trusty black horse and another equally good steed saddled and ready for a quick exit to the penitentiary. With the angry mob behind him, Swede decided horses for this cross country ride would be much better than the automobile, for at that time none of the roads in this area were paved.
While the Glencoe Rangers were waiting Swede and Two Dog were lowered from the second story window and quickly mounted their horses and dashed away.
All hell broke loose and it took about 15 minutes for the Glencoe group to get horses ready for the chase.
Swede and Two Dog rode madly north of town and flashed through sleepy Poverty Flat before the people knew what was happening. Whiskey Slide was passed as well.
In little over an hour they riders reached Jesus Maria. There they changed horses and continued north toward Moke Hill over the roughest terrain.
With Two Dog’s injury the going was slower than Swede wanted for the closer they got to Sacramento the more open the terrain which would give the Glencoe bunch a good shot.
Their frantic ride continued and on occasion they passed men on horseback and at one point drive a couple in an automobile entirely off the road. The ride was beginning to take its toll. The afternoon was fading as they passed Sutter Creek town site.
The Indian was getting weaker and Swede was now worried he might not make it. Swede told Two Dog to “look back and you will see they are gaining on us.”
They pushed their horses for more speed, but they were still gaining. At last Swede saw the most welcome sight of all his life, the bridge over Bear Creek, Sacramento was in sight.
The race was not over, they found the streets deep in mud and their tired horses struggled and toiled to get through this mire.
As they glanced back they saw the Glencoe Rangers very close but they could not fire on them, being almost in town. The jailer threw open the doors and the dauntless deputy, as white as death but seemingly unwearied, gave his prisoner into safe keeping. Seconds after the iron doors swung shut the Glencoe Gang arrived, too late. Swede had saved Two Dog from hanging.
Just four hours had passed since Swede and Two Dog had been lowered from the Dughi Building window in Mtn. Ranch Swede disclaimed all credit for bravery or daring for his deed.
Swede was a practical man and did what he felt had to be done. He had little time to think of his great ride, 48 miles in four hours, or of the fate of Two Dog.
Shortly after this brave ride he was shot in the back by an assassin, but so it was, and one night his faithful black horse came home without him. In the cold light of the early morning he was found near Wiggins Sawmill with a jagged hole in his back but still alive.
It would take more than a coward’s bullet in the back to stop the biggest and bravest man in old El Dorado Camp now called Mountain Ranch
Dave “Swede” Zwinge lived out the rest of his life in Sheep Ranch. Hoping to reach 100 years of age, he almost made it.
This story has been told and retold many times in Swede’s live and after it, and always seemed to add a bit at every telling. It is commonly believed a small part of it is true.
REMEMBER: If you are lucky enough to live in Mtn. Ranch, then you are lucky enough!
Many colorful tales have been told of this big daredevil but none as wild as this ride he took on his faithful black horse this Jan. day in 1910.
The story began when a white man named John Thomas from the Glencoe area was murdered. An American who some thought had committed the crime, accused a young half breed Indian named Two Dog.
The so-called Glencoe Rangers, nothing more than self appointed vigilantes, attacked the temporary jail where Swede had housed Two Dog. Swede and his helpers were able to repulse the Rangers but Two Dog was shot, not fatally. As soon as Two Dog recovered he was placed on trial. Hanging the poor Indian was foremost on their minds.
Judge A.I. McSorely was the one officiating at the trial. The local D.A. presented his case and the jury found poor Two Dog guilty. Judge McSorely sentenced Two Dog to life imprisonment at San Quentin.
The Glencoe Rangers wanted to hang Two Dog and they waited for Swede to come out of the court room to the jail. Swede was ready for whatever would happen. He had his trusty black horse and another equally good steed saddled and ready for a quick exit to the penitentiary. With the angry mob behind him, Swede decided horses for this cross country ride would be much better than the automobile, for at that time none of the roads in this area were paved.
While the Glencoe Rangers were waiting Swede and Two Dog were lowered from the second story window and quickly mounted their horses and dashed away.
All hell broke loose and it took about 15 minutes for the Glencoe group to get horses ready for the chase.
Swede and Two Dog rode madly north of town and flashed through sleepy Poverty Flat before the people knew what was happening. Whiskey Slide was passed as well.
In little over an hour they riders reached Jesus Maria. There they changed horses and continued north toward Moke Hill over the roughest terrain.
With Two Dog’s injury the going was slower than Swede wanted for the closer they got to Sacramento the more open the terrain which would give the Glencoe bunch a good shot.
Their frantic ride continued and on occasion they passed men on horseback and at one point drive a couple in an automobile entirely off the road. The ride was beginning to take its toll. The afternoon was fading as they passed Sutter Creek town site.
The Indian was getting weaker and Swede was now worried he might not make it. Swede told Two Dog to “look back and you will see they are gaining on us.”
They pushed their horses for more speed, but they were still gaining. At last Swede saw the most welcome sight of all his life, the bridge over Bear Creek, Sacramento was in sight.
The race was not over, they found the streets deep in mud and their tired horses struggled and toiled to get through this mire.
As they glanced back they saw the Glencoe Rangers very close but they could not fire on them, being almost in town. The jailer threw open the doors and the dauntless deputy, as white as death but seemingly unwearied, gave his prisoner into safe keeping. Seconds after the iron doors swung shut the Glencoe Gang arrived, too late. Swede had saved Two Dog from hanging.
Just four hours had passed since Swede and Two Dog had been lowered from the Dughi Building window in Mtn. Ranch Swede disclaimed all credit for bravery or daring for his deed.
Swede was a practical man and did what he felt had to be done. He had little time to think of his great ride, 48 miles in four hours, or of the fate of Two Dog.
Shortly after this brave ride he was shot in the back by an assassin, but so it was, and one night his faithful black horse came home without him. In the cold light of the early morning he was found near Wiggins Sawmill with a jagged hole in his back but still alive.
It would take more than a coward’s bullet in the back to stop the biggest and bravest man in old El Dorado Camp now called Mountain Ranch
Dave “Swede” Zwinge lived out the rest of his life in Sheep Ranch. Hoping to reach 100 years of age, he almost made it.
This story has been told and retold many times in Swede’s live and after it, and always seemed to add a bit at every telling. It is commonly believed a small part of it is true.
REMEMBER: If you are lucky enough to live in Mtn. Ranch, then you are lucky enough!
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