by Paul R. Spitzzeri
Following the Homestead’s Tombstone Tales event last weekend, an email was received asking about whether the last resting place of Maria de Jesus Jacinta Guirado de Downey (1836-1883), a First Lady of California as her husband John, to whom she was married for some three decades, was governor of the Golden State from 1860-1862, was known.
Apparently, it is unclear as she and Downey were interred at the Old Calvary Cemetery at the base of the Elysian Hills near modern Dodger Stadium, but, while he was reinterred twice, first to the current Calvary, which opened in 1895 in East Los Angeles, and then to Holy Cross in Colma, south of San Francisco, it is unclear whether her remains accompanied his or were left in either of the Calvary burying grounds. If anyone happens to know where Señora Guirado de Downey rests, please leave a comment!
In any case, the query led to this post, which looks at some history of the older Calvary, though it is somewhat surprising that references to cemeteries and burials in the first half-decade of Los Angeles newspapers are very sparse. The first located reference to either was in the 28 May 1853 edition of the Los Angeles Star, which briefly recorded the death of five-year-old Henry E., the first child of Guadalupe Zamorano de Dalton and her husband Henry, the longtime owner of Rancho Azusa adjoining William Workman and the Rancho la Puente on the north.
While it was not mentioned, the youngster was interred at Calvary, which was then just shy of a decade old. Incidentally, a couple of weeks later, the earliest found reference to a Protestant funeral was found in that paper for another child, a girl who was run over by a cart. There wasn’t a Methodist church in which the Rev. Adam Bland, a missionary appointed for this region the prior February, could conduct a service, nor was a cemetery mentioned, but the Fort Moore, or City, Cemetery, is generally thought to have been inaugurated in that year of 1853.
Not long afterward, following the organization of the Hebrew Benevolent Society to provide for the growing Jewish community of the Angel City, came the establishment of a cemetery just west of Calvary and the 2 June 1855 issue of the Star remarked that “the society . . . have recently made arrangements to enclose a burial place for their dead, by a good and substantial Brick wall.” The paper then opined that “it is a matter of deep regret with many of our Protestant citizens, that no receptacle for the dead, has as yet been made secure by an enclosure” and offered that the Jewish example might be “an incentive to Protestants to take into consideration this important subject” as, it concluded, “there is a melancholy pleasure in knowing that the graves of our relatives and friends, are undisturbed.”
Nothing, though, was said about Calvary, but we do know that there was some kind of enclosure, because of a controversy that arose just a little over a year later. Incidentally, a reflection of some hard economic times descending on the area as the Gold Rush, which brought significant wealth to cattle ranchers (supplying fresh meat to the hordes of miners and others in the state), petered out by the middle of the decade, is a lengthy public notice in the Star of 1 March 1855 for a City Marshal’s Sale of property following the paying of city taxes for the prior year.
Included in the list was property assessed to the Rev. Bland on the east side of Main Street, but also three tracts assessed to Father Anacleto Lestrade of the Plaza Church. One was for 80 acres west of the “Callijon del Arroyo Seco” and north of a mill owned by Maffre and Poulain—this establishment was located where the Los Angeles State Historic Park is now. A second was for “1 tract College ground,” though a location was not provided (St. Vincent’s College was not established for another decade). The last was for “10 acres awarded as Cemetery ground” and appears to be for Calvary, though it might have been for additional land next to it.
The dispute that arose on 20 June 1856 concerned an effort by Santiago Sánchez and Rafael González to bury at Calvary an unidentified woman, who was, however, excommunicated, for reasons unknown, from the Roman Catholic Church. The new priest at the Plaza Church was the Rev. Vicente Llover, whose stay was short, lasting into the following year (one wonders if this incident played a part) when he was replaced by Blas Raho, and he filed a criminal complaint, “accusing defendants of ‘malicious mischief,’ in willfully, unlawfully, and maliciously injuring the gate of the Campo Santo, the property of the Catholic Church in this city.” Clearly, Calvary had some form of enclosure if there was a gate.
In the Star‘s summary, published in its number of the 28th, it was remarked that,
Defendants were arrested for breaking open the Catholic burying-ground, for the purpose of interring a certain dead person, who was of the Catholic faith but had been excommunicated from the church; on account of which the Padre had refused the body the right of burial. The friends of deceased determined to disregard the prohibition of the priest, and accordingly they broke down the gate of the graveyard and interred the body.
González and Sánchez had at least some financial means because they hired the firm of Myron Norton and Ezra Drown (Drown’s granddaughter’s grave at the Homestead’s El Campo Santo was part of our Tombstone Tales program) and the account continued that “the defence relied upon was, that the property was not of the church, but of the city, which is the owner thereof, and that all persons have the right of burial therein.”
Moreover, Drown and Norton asserted that, for the charge against their clients to have merit, “it was necessary . . . for the prosecution,” handled by William W. Handlin, whose stay in Los Angeles in attorney only extended for parts of 1856 (and who tutored the Rev. Llover in English), “to show that the defendants were guilty of wanton or reckless destruction of property without other intent or motive, and so the Court charged the jury” Their argument seemed to be that their desire to bury the unnamed woman at the cemetery obviated any claim of malice in breaking into Calvary and Justice of the Peace Russell Sackett, a longtime resident of the Angel City, obviously agreed.
Accordingly, the jury returned with a verdict of acquittal of González and Sánchez, but, moreover, added that “the prosecution was commenced without probable cause and maliciously, and judgment was rendered against the private prosecutor [Rev. Llover] for costs” of the proceedings incurred by the defendants. This led the Star to comment,
Although through some technicalities, the Padre has been defeated in his action, no one doubts but that an outrage—a most disgraceful outrage, has been committed on property usually held sacred among civilized communities, and that too by an armed band of ferocious looking ruffians, whom, we are exceedingly sorry [to say], the law was impotent to punish.
The paper added that “to prevent the repetition” of this incident “that steps be taken for the cession of the Campo Santo to the church proper” so that “the church will be made definite and secure from invasion and desecration.” Reference was made to a letter to the paper and its editors asked its “friends” if they would be “as brief as possible in their communications.”
The missive, under the name of “CIVIS,” is a lengthy one and it observed that Llover went first to the Marshal, William C. Getman (later Los Angeles County Sheriff for a short period before he was killed early in 1858 by an insane citizen), but who declined to act without a judge’s arrest warrant. Sackett, it was added, “thought proper to issue a warrant for malicious mischief” and, when arrests were undertaken, one of the two was found “on the premises with the lock in his hand.” But, the writer remarked, bail was granted and the two were released and “probably returned to aid in the original purpose” of the burial.
While Llover secured another lock for the gate, “shortly after the arrest and bailing, some forty men gathered—all Mexicans (not Californians) armed to the teeth—broke the lock again, and effected the interment, without further interference by the officers.” The ethnic distinction of those Latinos from México and those born or raised in California is significant. “Civis” then pointed out the contradiction of Sackett deciding “that the priest had not ‘probably cause’ to complain—and so mulcts him in costs to the amount of about $79” rather than have these charged to the county as statute demanded.
The writer then hesitated to accuse Sackett of wrongdoing, choosing to believe it was “an unaccountable blunder,” while also wondering what would have happened if
“some fifty Californians had been at the gate when the Mexicans arrived” given “their bitter hostility towards each other.” In that hypothetical, it was asserted that Llover would have been hailed for helping “to aver the certain and most fatal catastrophe,” assuming the authorities would have prevented a fatal fight between the warring factions. There was the further concern that Sackett’s action would establish a dangerous precedent.
More concerning for “Civis” was that,
The persons actively engaged in this outrage are ignorant Mexicans. Doubtless they would not have done it of their own accord—they would not have dared to do it. But, they say that had the permission of the Mayor of the city [Stephen C. Foster, who took office in early May—he’d previously resigned in January 1855 as chief executive to fulfill a promise to lead a lynching party against an Anglo convict and was returned to office in the ensuing special election] and the President of the City Council [Manuel Requena—see a reference to him later in this post regarding the ownership of the Calvary land in 1844 when the cemetery was founded] . . . They may have misunderstood these gentlemen, to some extent; but it is certain that the mob claimed their authority, in a manner that hardly admits of so favorable a view. Those officers [Foster was married to one of the prominent Lugo family and Requena was a Latino and both were Catholics] owe it to themselves to explain their conduct.
Foster, the writer went on, could be “justly liable to exception . . . in the most favorable view,” but it was remarked that “he neither dissuaded” the group from carrying out their intentions “nor took any steps to prevent them from excusing their illegal act.” Also concerning was “why paralyze the worthy Marshal and his deputy in their action by suggesting the fiction about ‘City property,” as it was claimed that Getman “would have done his duty, but for the influence of the Mayor” and the author wanted “to make some enquiries of the Mayor” about the matter.
“Civis” went on to question would Foster or Requena would do or think “if a mob . . . were going to murder any of our citizens in their own home,” or, strangely, “if they intended to break into [Requena’s] garden . . . if only to eat apricots.” Additionally, the writer thought to interpret what Foster would say in such a hypothetical: “oh! ’tis but a trespass . . . I’m not sure there’s an ordinance about this, I don’t know if I have jurisdiction—but, whatever you do, do it on your own hook—I’ve no advice to give.” The letter continued with,
Would he use such language if the violence were against a private dwelling, instead of the “house of the dead?” The home of the dead! In every land revered by affection and protected by humanity—a holy ground where peace should ever reign! Many of us look to the Catholic Cemetery as our last resting place. Friends and relatives are sleeping there. Is it desirable that it should become a theatre of strife or bloodshed, in the future attempts of some more reckless Mayor to assert fancied claims of property by violence—directly, or indirectly—instead of by the tranquil and all potent operation of the civil laws?
Even if there was a valid claim that Calvary was city, not church, property, continued the author, it was inquired, “how can it be thought for a moment that such is the way for the city to prosecute any claim it may have” as it was added, “breaking locks (through the instrumentality of a mob), entering by force, setting aside the parish priest with the strong arm, and constituting a mayor, or a mob, sole judge in matters of religious doctrine and usage!”
“Civis” then offered the example of anyone trying to “make a similar attempt in the Monte,” meaning the San Gabriel Valley hamlet of El Monte, populated largely by Southerners and home of the notorious “Monte Boys” who took easily to extralegal proceedings, as such “would not be made often.” Llover, however, was “a defenceless priest,” while there was an admonition “for certain men to check a little their mobbish proclivities.”
As for whether there was any validity to the view that Calvary was city property, it was commented that,
It is undeniable that the parish priest has been in actual, exclusive, peaceable and undisturbed possession of this cemetery during the last twelve years, and in the name of the Catholic Church. A plain man would say that such a possession must be a legal right of a very high character and entitled to protection; and to just the same protection that surrounds the private dwelling, or inclosure, of any citizen . . .
The author defended Llover’s decision to refuse burial by observing that “every reflecting man must admit, that this must be left to be determined by the priest, according to the peculiar doctrines, discipline and customs of his own Church” and that constitutional protections buttressed that authority “leaving him to the responsibility which he may owe to his own Church authorities.” Not only could the priest decide “who are members of his Church, and, as such, entitled to be buried in its cemetery,” but it was asserted that “no Protestant minister in the United States would have acted differently, under the same circumstances.”
It was reiterated that “every religious domination must be allowed to follow its own regulations as to the burial of the dead” as the counter to this was “against the fundamental principle of religious liberty.” Not only this, by “Civis” pointed out that, “in sight of the Catholic [cemetery] is the Jewish burying-ground; who would venture to intrude upon the Jews?—who would violate their laws?” when it came to ownership of their cemetery and its use.
The letter continued,
With the Catholics, and particularly under Mexican law, the cemetery, after being consecrated according to their ceremonial—as this was in 1844 by the Catholic Bishop of California [Francisco García Diego y Moreno]—is devoted solely to Catholic uses, as the exclusive adjunct, appurtenance and property of the Church, and, to all intents and purposes, is a part of the Church itself; and you might as well counsel or permit a mob to break into the [Plaza] Church itself, and despoil the altar, and expel the priest and congregation, as violate the cemetery in the same way.
As to the possibility of Calvary being city property, it was clear that it should be “immediately deeded to the Catholics” and any meddling in or muddling of the matter “touches not only the religious feelings, but the tenderest sentiments of the human heart, excited by the memory of the dead.” Such an act, if necessary, which it was asserted was decidedly not required, would “provide a suitable cemetery . . . to which may be removed the ashes of the ‘loved and lost,’ and where [Catholics] may enjoy again, in peace all the soothing funeral rites of their religion, at present not to be celebrated within the precincts desecrated by brute violence” as “this last is the worst feature of this outrage.”
The outrage also permeated the pages of El Clamor Público, the Angel City’s first Spanish-language newspaper, published the precocious Francisco P. Ramirez, who was just 19 years old, so we’ll return next with part two to review that coverage.