Bandido Juan Flores, part II

After their meal, the possemen resumed their journey They had gone about a dozen miles when they spied a lone rider galloping toward a clump of hills. The posse took up pursuit and rode right into a trap. At least 20 bandidos charged out of ravines to surround them.

An article in the Star says the lawmen put up a good fight, killing at least three of the outlaws before they were overwhelmed by greater numbers. Another account says that some of the possemen's guns were useless, thanks to Martina. Seeing three of their own companions go down, the other three possemen fled. Bandidos chased two of them all the way back to the Sepulveda hacienda before breaking off the pursuit. The third, a blacksmith named C.F Daly, broke away alone on his mule but could not outdistance the horses of his enemies. Los Manillos then vanished into the canyon lands of the Santa Anas.

A day or two later, a burial party bearing coffins on wagons reached the site of the ambush. Sheriff Barton and two of his deputies lay dead within a quarter mile of each other; the body of Daly was found about three miles from the others. It is possible that one or more of the lawmen had still been alive after being knocked from the saddle. Along with their other wounds, they had each been shot one last time through the right eye or mouth. The bodies had been stripped of watches, rings and other valuables.

Details of the murders of the well-liked Sheriff Barton and his men spread across southern California. Law-abiding citizens were outraged. Many residents were up in arms.. literally. Frank Alexander, one of the surviving deputies, rode to El Monte, east of Los Angeles, and recruited 40 armed riders to go after Flores. Colonel Andres Pico, brother of the last Mexican governor of California and one of Los Angeles' most prominent citizens, formed a heavily armed contingent of more than 50 men-a small army in that time and place. The Indian leader Manuelito moved out of Temecula with 43 men, and even the community at San Diego, 75 miles to the south, sent a group of searchers. The enormous manhunt united American, Mexican and native American peoples against Flores and his gang.

Even with between 150 and 200 men searching, the task was not an easy one. The Santa Anas are a maze of canyons and ridges, crowned by the 5,685-foot Santiago Peak (also known as SOld Saddleback"). The search took place in late January, when night temperatures frequently drop below freezing and sudden torrents of rain can flood the gullies. The interior reaches of the Santa Anas have been spared much of the development that has paved and subdivided coastal Orange County Even today, one can easily picture the riders-lawmen hunting lawbreakers-moving among sycamores and oaks, between manzanita-covered hills and through dusty arroyos.

A scout, reportedly one of Manuelito's men, finally located Flores' haven, hidden in Santiago Canyon in the center of the range. The searchers learned from a turncoat, Antonio Maria "Chino Varelas, that the outlaw band had split into smaller groups. Flores had no more than 15 men with him at the encampment.

The initial plan was to storm the camp by moonlight on Thursday, January 29, but when it was seen that a slow, silent approach would not put the posse in position before the moon set, the time of attack was changed to dawn. Detachments led by Colonel Pico and a Dr. Gentry of Los Angeles moved in as the sun edged above the horizon on the 30th. But Flores had risen before first light and had climbed to a rocky lookout above the canyon. After alerting his men to the danger he had leaped onto his horse and raced away. Three other bandidos were also able to mount and ride off before the posse closed in on the camp. Two bandidos tried to get away on foot after their horses bolted in the chaos. About 10 of the gang members were captured at the camp or nearby

With Dr. Gentry's party in pursuit, Flores climbed the ridge near a rocky summit now known as Flores Peak, abandoned his horse, and plunged down a cliff face of ancient granite. He gambled he would not break his neck, and won. Jesus Espinosa and Leonardo Lopez followed his lead, making the same death-defying leap. They were the only ones to escape. The possemen retraced their steps; they would follow a safer route to the next canyon. Whatever else could be said about Flores, the young outlaw was smart and had guts.

The leaders of the search parties discussed the situation. They were confident that the trio had not actually broken out of the large net surrounding them. While some men ranged the mountains, others crisscrossed the terrain and kept watch on all passes. Their persistence paid off. Two days later, on Sunday morning, February 1, 1857, Flores, Espinosa and Lopez were spotted in Harding Canyon, north of Santiago Canyon. After a brief exchange of gunfire, the three bandidos tossed down their guns and walked out of a cave. Ringed by their captors, they were taken about five miles down the canyon to Teodosio Yorba's ranch. There, they were tied up and locked in an adobe hut, with guards only a few steps away. Pico, Gentry and their lieutenants spent the afternoon celebrating and making plans to transport Flores to Los Angeles for trial.

That night, however, a guard glimpsed three ghostly figures in the moonlight. They disappeared. Someone thrust a lantern into the adobe hut-empty! The ropes the desperados had been tied with were strewn over the dusty floor. Shouts, confusion and a flurry of ineffectual gunshots into the darkness followed. Flores had done it again.

Colonel Pico did not take the news well. His angry shouts echoed off the hills. Then he calmed down. He ordered a squad of men to bring two Los Manillos gang members who had been captured during the dawn raid in Santiago Canyon. The prisoners were quickly marched to a nearby arroyo called Presita Canyon. Pico strode up to a big sycamore and oversaw the tying of nooses on two ropes, which were then tossed over a branch 10 feet off the ground. He watched while the two prisoners were hanged. As Pico turned to walk away, he said, "Here are two who will never get loose.' He ordered the bodies to be left to sway in the wind as a reminder of frontier justice. Some accounts say they were not cut down for six months.

The Indian scouts and possemen regrouped and doggedly flushed out the remnants of Los Manillos. But days passed, and Flores was not spotted again. The lawmen had to expand the search area, thinning their forces. It was feared that Flores, though wounded in the arm, had managed to flee beyond their grasp.

More than a week after Flores' escape from the adobe hut and more than 60 miles to the northwest, two soldiers stopped a lone rider as he approached Simi Pass. He said his name was Juan Gonzales Sanchez and that he lived at the San Fernando mission settlement. Still suspicious, the soldiers escorted him back to their encampment. Their suspicions were valid. Others at camp recognized the man-he was Juan Flores.

Under interrogation, Flores admitted to the theft of a horse at Santa Ana and later a second one at San Fernando. He still denied ever being headman of Los Manillos or any involvement in the murders of the merchant Pflugardt in San Juan Capistrano or Sheriff Barton and his deputies.

Flores was jailed in Los Angeles pending a trial, but many citizens called for speedier justice. Many friends and relatives of the late Sheriff Barton and the two dead deputies lived there. Historian Charles D. Millard has referred to the 1850s and 1860s as "the darkest chapter in the history of Los Angeles...it was undoubtedly the toughest town in the entire nation." He cited the high number of "fights, murders, lynchings and robberies." In fact, lynchings far outnumbered legal hangings during the era. Stephen C. Foster, who twice served as mayor in the mid-1850s, once resigned the post in order to lead a lynch mob.