Dead Men Do Tell Tales -- How I Stumbled Upon The Last Hanging in Calaveras County

George Washington Cox

It all started with a book. Roland and I were at the Friends of the Library in Stockton, a frequent haunt of ours, when we found an older, historical book about the gold country titled, Motherlode Memories.  Roland purchased it and started going through the pages in the car. He pointed out to several places we are familiar with and a few we hadn't seen before. This past weekend he pulled out the book and said, "Let's go up to San Andreas, and see if we can find these two men's graves so I can put their photos on Find-a-grave."  

The two men he was speaking of were Sheriff Ben Thorn and Judge Gottschalk. They were the two men pictured on the pages in the historical book he was looking at. The page also showed a photo of the backside of the courthouse with a small blurb underneath that read "The courtyard in the rear of the restored 1868 San Andreas courthouse and jail was landscaped by the students of San Joaquin Delta College in Stockton. The last hanging from the gallows in this courtyard occurred in 1870." - (pg 102, Motherlode Memories). The page also had photographs of the Black Bart Inn and Ben Thorn's house as well. In the usual way that we do, we jumped in the car and headed up to San Andreas to do some history hunting.  

We searched for Pixley Lane and found ourselves going up a windy road up to an old cemetery on top of a hillside. 

People's Cemetery, San Andreas, CA

We wandered the grounds for a good hour or longer, before I stumbled upon Judge Gottschalk's grave, but we never did find Sheriff Thorn. As we were leaving the cemetery, we passed by a reddish marble stone that read George Washington Cox. I noticed the name right away, and Roland even spoke his name out loud as we passed by. It was apparent that we were meant to see or acknowledge that grave for some reason, but at the time we didn't know why.

So up to the Courthouse we drove, to take photos of the buildings on the main street. As I passed by the courthouse steps I noticed that they were open, so I walked right on in. I met up with a docent there and started talking to her about another story I have been planning to write about that took place in Valley Springs, and I wanted permission to use the Historical Society's photograph for my blog. We started talking and I gave her one of my business cards and Roland purchased our tickets to take a tour of the courthouse museum. 

The courthouse upstairs is beautiful, and preserved just as it was when Judge Gottschalk sentenced the infamous Black Bart to prison for his stage coach robberies throughout the motherlode. But it wasn't the courtroom that intrigued me, it was the jail that I wanted to see.  As I walked down the brick walkway down the side of the old courthouse and made my way around to the back yard of the property, I recognized the scene from the old black and white photo in Roland's book. This was the spot where the last hanging occurred. 

"I wish I knew who that person was", I told Roland, as I walked up to the back steps of the jail.

"Look, I am going to jail," I said, as I made a hand gesture as if I was handcuffed in front. I smiled and I walked into the jail.   

It was quiet and dark. Suddenly the motion censor lights came on. It startled me, I cannot deny that. Nothing paranormal about it though. I made my way to the back hallway where the cells were. I walked into one of the cells and tried to imagine how it must have felt to have been incarcerated there.  The etched names and initials carved into the walls were abundant. Who were these men? What stories did they have to tell? Were any of them among those who met their ending just steps away in the back yard? 

As I walked around, filming my experience there, Roland called out to me. 

"Hey, come over here," he said. "Remember that grave in the cemetery , George Washington Cox? He was the last guy they hanged here."

I walked into the small room off the main jail entry way, and there it was: a glass case with chain mail on display, a photograph of George, a small invitation to the ghastly affair (his execution) and at the bottom was a photocopy of a photograph of a man and woman (possibly George and his wife?) and a letter in his own hand, made out to one of his daughters, Medie Cox Damon, written just a month before he was hanged.

It seemed too coincidental to the both of us that we both noticed his grave at the cemetery earlier, and then like following invisible footsteps on a map, we happened to end up at the very spot in which George met his final ending. I sat down on the concrete floor and read his letter aloud. Roland had stepped outside to take more photos. No one was there, and I was all alone in the jail. You could hear a pin fall it was so quiet. 

The letter read:

"Saturday, July 6th, 1888

My Dear Daughter,    

Cox's Letter

I am very hopeful for a new consider in life but think it is with no effect. All you are doing for  me will prove worthless to me. I came home to see my children and by doing so, I walk in my grave. I am filling the position I was born to fill, and think no more about dying than going to sleep, everybody has got to pull over the same hill to meet in death valley, I am on the fence and can fall two different ways. I wish you all success in life hoping you and your husband may see many happy days. There is no change in my feelings, my constitution has been hardened to the capacity of steel by a band of dishonest men. I could write you a great many things, I don't fear death a bit, but I have been abused from my birth to the present day. Tell Mr. Damon to come down.

Yours Affectionately,

G.W. Cox"

I sat there at the jailhouse and started to cry. The letter seemed very sad, and the thought of a person's life ending and those were his last written words to a loved one really got to me. I wanted to know more. Why did he hang? What did he do? What happened?

There was a small paper in the glass cabinet that shed further light on the story.

"George Washington Cox goes down in Calaveras County history as the last man hanged in the jail yard. Soon after his hanging, the privilege of conducting hanging went to San Quentin.

Cox shot his son-in-law while having paranoid delusions of him having an affair with his wife. After he had shot and killed him, he put his armor on and gathered his knives and turned himself in to Ben Thorn, the county sheriff."

Well, it wouldn't be the first time a son-in-law was caught sleeping with his mother-in-law, trust me, I know of a few stories personally in the last few generations that this happened in different families. 

But, did George's wife and son-in-law actually do that? I needed to know more. 

We drove back up to the cemetery for the second time in the same day, and went right back to that grave we had passed by just a few hours earlier. I stopped and his grave and sat down, I took photos and I read out loud the letter he wrote to his daughter. I wondered, did his daughter ever read the letter? Or was she too distraught over the whole situation that she never accepted it, and thus it ended up back at the courthouse among items on display at the museum?

As soon as we left and returned home, I started searching the archived newspapers of the time to see if I could dig up anymore on this perplexing story. 

The first thing I wanted to see was if he had a memorial on Find-a-grave, and he did. 

So, I kept searching the archived newspapers of the time, to see what light I could shed on this story that literally found me.

The Amador Ledger, dated November 12, 1887 elaborated a bit more:

Cox's items on display at the Jail.

"On Thursday afternoon, Geo. Cox went to Sheep Ranch and gave himself up to the authorities, stating that he had killed his son-in-law H.G. Cook. Cox, when taken into custody had a Winchester rifle, a Winchester revolver, a dirk knife with a ten inch blade, and a coat of armor, the latter is made of steel wire, and weighs about 25 lbs. From the evidence of Mrs. Cox, before the coroner's inquest it appears that Cox, Cook and one of the children were eating dinner.  Cox got up from the table and went through a hall into a bedroom and taking his Winchester rifle, he stepped to the door leading from the hall to the dining room, and fired a shot at Cook, who was seated at the dinner table. The bullet struck Cook in the left breast and passed through his body. 

Cook stood up and then fell to the floor, Cox firing another shot as Cook fell, which struck the table in front of the little boy. Mrs. Cox and Mrs. Cook were in the room when the second shot was fired and before Cox had reloaded his rifle the third time, Mrs. Cook sprang across the room and caught hold of the gun and pushed Cox into the hall. During the struggle Cox kicked his daughter and struck her on the head with the rifle, which knocked her down, but she got up and pushed Cox out of the house and locked the door.

Cox went to a window and pointed his rifle at Mrs. Cook and swore he was prepared for any of them. In all probability Cox would have killed his wife and daughter had not the latter caught the assassin and put him out of the house by main strength. There appears to have been no cause whatever for committing the murder. There had not been an angry word spoken that day, or on any previous occasion by either of the men to one another. the coroner's jury charged Cox with having committed a cold-blooded murder. "

So by that point, it appears the rumor about his wife's infidelity hadn't gotten around in the community just yet. So when and where did this rumor start?

Digging into the archived newspapers little more, I found that a friend of Cox's, a Mr. Dave Reed, came to the authorities to tell them that just after Cox had killed Henry Cook, he came over to his Reed's cabin and asked him to help him gather his belongings from the house. He didn't tell Reed what had just transpired, so when Reed went into the house to get Cox's belongings he didn't know why everyone was crying. He gathered his things and left. Soon after, Mrs. Cox went to Reed's cabin and told him what happened and Reed went back to the house and went into the dining room and saw Mr. Cook dead on the floor. He claims this was the first he knew about it, when Mrs. Cox told him.

About fifteen years ago, a historian by the name of Walt Motloch shared more information to journalist Dana Nichols for a piece in the Stockton Record. Motloch uncovered even more regarding the story, which didn't necessarily settle the rumors, but instead created more confusion about the motive of the killing itself.

According to the news article dated in 2007, three different descendants of George Washington Cox have come to three different conclusions about what happened.  Joette Farrand, a great-great granddaughter of Cox, believed he was set up, and that there were people who wanted to get him "out of the way," so-to-speak. Now, this goes in line in a way with what Cox speaks in his letter about a "band of dishonest men."

Was he speaking about certain people plotting against him? Feeding him with false ideas? Knowing all too well he was like a ticking time bomb ready to go off at the next rumor that he heard? Or was the "band of dishonest men" simply the jury who convicted him?

The next descendant, Lee Rude, claimed that he had heard Cox had abandoned the family for 12 years, and only returned around the time of the murder. According to the Record's account, the Calaveras Prospect mentioned that Cox was a drifter who went from place to place, job to job and came back to seek revenge on the "injuries done" to him. 

But what were these great injuries done to him? And why his son-in-law, unless there actually was a reason for the killing?

Lastly, Jan Cook, another one of Cox's great grandchildren eludes to the idea that he was mentally unstable, not knowing where he was half the time, and being "weak mentally." So was he mentally incapacitated at the time of the murder? If so, why not send him to the Stockton Asylum? Why condemn him to the gallows? 

The more information being spread the more confusing it had became. 

Do I believe he specifically came to Calaveras to exact revenge on his son-in-law?  I am not sure. But where did he get this information that his wife was being unfaithful in the first place? It had to come from somewhere. Was he upset that he spent years of his life, working wherever he could to make a living (possibly sending the money to his family) only to find out his wife was sleeping around?

First and foremost, I am not accusing his wife of something that hasn't been said before. For the record, I don't know if she was faithful to him or not, just as I don't know whether Cox had any true merit to his accusations against her. But something was going on, whether it was reality or all in his mind. And if it was all in his mind, again, why did the jury not seek to send him to the Asylum in Stockton? 

By Cox's own admission during his trial, he believed his act was a defense to his family. Why would he say that if he didn't feel a real threat to himself or his family? 

The article in the Stockton Record from 2007, claims that Cox later admitted (after his trial) that the rumors he believed about his son-in-law were unfounded. 

But where is this documentation? (Not to say it wasn't said, but I would certainly like to see that for myself).

The Sacramento Daily Record Union, dated September 1, 1888, gives a little more insight into Cox's state of mind when he killed Cook when it reads, "The crime for which Cox suffered the death penalty was for the murder of his son-in-law, Henry Cook, near Sheep Ranch, in this county on November 3rd last. The murderer shot the young man while he was eating dinner, without any warning whatsoever. 

Cox claimed that his son-in-law had threatened to take his life, and had listened to evil stories concerning Cook and his (Cox') wife. The case was tried in January last and the death penalty affixed, and on appeal to the Supreme Court the judgement was affirmed."

When Cox was tried for the murder, in January of 1888, it was said that it only took the jury approximately one half of an hour to come to their verdict. Cox tried to appeal it, as the newspaper above mentions, and at one point, his execution was delayed.

According to the Los Angeles Herald, dated March 24, 1888, Cox's hanging was postponed, as it was originally scheduled for March 23, 1888. The final date was set for August 31, 1888, one final meeting at the gallows that Cox would not be able to avoid. 

It is apparent that Sheriff Thorn found the entire ordeal unpleasant, as he so did state at the execution and also by the way he had the invitations to the execution designed. 

The Sacramento Daily Union even mentioned it on August 24, 1888, that the invitation was printed on a card with a deep mourning border. This is telling.  If Thorn so believed that Cox was such a horrid, murderer, he would have had a simple card printed, but this one had meaning, symbolism for that time period. One of not just mourning, but "deep mourning," as the journalist had put it. 

The Jail Yard, where Cox was hanged on 8/31/1888

"Brave to the Last"

Execution of George W. Cox Yesterday at San Andreas

San Andreas, August 31st, George W. Cox was executed today in the jail yard at 10:30 a.m. by Sheriff Benjamin Thorne [SIC]. The death warrant was read to the condemned man shortly after 10 o'clock, in the presence of several officers and physicians. The Sheriff informed Cox that he had an  unpleasant duty to perform and Cox replied, "Go on, Mr. Sheriff, and do your duty."

The condemned man was laboring under some excitement, for his pulse was 140 immediately before being led on to the scaffold, but his manner and words were brave to the last. He walked to and on the scaffold without any hesitation, and assisted the Sheriff in adjusting the straps and the black cap. He made the remark that he was not sorry for anything he had ever done in his life, and as the black cap was slipped over his head he told the Sheriff not to smother him.

At 10:35 o'clock the drop fell and the neck of Cox was broken. He died without a struggle and no pulse was perceptible after the drop. About one hundred persons witnessed the execution." -- Sacramento Daily Record-Union, Sept, 1, 1888.

Spot where the gallows once stood.

Conclusion

George Washington Cox went to his grave with no regrets, or so he stated. But did he really? Were there any actions in his lifetime he may have regretted? It appeared that his emotional letter to his daughter revealed his weakness, his love of his children. Maybe in his mind, if he truly believed his son-in-law was sleeping with his wife, he felt it was a betrayal to his daughter as much as it was to himself. If this rumor had any truth to it at all, it would ruin both marriages, and disrupt the family forever. Maybe Cox just couldn't handle the idea of his daughter's heart being broken, or becoming hardened as his had.

Will we ever know if the stories he believed about his wife and his son-in-law had any merit at all?

Unfortunately, only the people involved in that event that took place back in 1887 know the truth to that story. We can sit and speculate all we want, but we may never know the truth. Cox could have been within his rights to believe his wife was being unfaithful, he may have been threatened by his son-in-law as he stated. Those rumors could have had truth to them. On the flip side, Cox could have been believing lies told to him by others, or perhaps even ideas that he came to on his own. 

Was Cox's mind troubled? Did he truly abandon his family for years on end? Or was he working on any job he could to send money to his family, in order to support them? How will we ever know for certain? Unless we have actual records to state either or, we will never know for sure but the story itself was one I couldn't pass up on sharing with all of you.

As many times in my history hunting, Roland and I come across stories that literally fall into our laps. We aren't necessarily looking for them, most times we are searching for something else and those other stories just happen to find us. I am then compelled to tell these stories of the forgotten, no matter whether they are: infamous, famous or unremembered, because I believe every grave has a story to tell, and as long as I am here, I will remain a voice to the voiceless so they will be forgotten no more.

Final Resting Place of G.W.Cox

(Copyright 2022 - J'aime Rubio www.jaimerubiowriter.com)

Photos: 
Grave of George W. Cox, Peoples Cemetery, San Andreas (Copyright, J'aime Rubio)

Photos inside and outside of San Andreas Courthouse/Jail/Jail
yard (Copyright, J'aime Rubio)

Sources:

Motherlode Memories, by Dr. R. Coke Wood & Leonard Covello, published by Valley Publishers, 1979. 

San Andreas Museum (photos)

Newspapers: Amador Ledger, 11/12/1887; Amador Dispatch, 11/19/1887; Sacramento Daily Record-Union, 8/24/1888; Amador Dispatch, 9/1/1888; Sacramento Daily Record Union, 11/05/1887,  Los Angeles Herald, 3/24/1888; Sacramento Daily Record Union, 9/1/1888; Stockton Record, 5/4/2007.

The murder of B.R.C. Johnson -Calaveras County History

Several years ago, as I was searching through archived records for one of my blogs, I stumbled across another story. This story was about the murder of a man known as Mr. Johnson.  I was so taken aback by the brutality of this crime, and the details behind the killing that I saved all the information I could find on it and set it aside so I could put all my attention on investigating it thoroughly in the future. Well, time passed by, and after working on other stories and projects, including publishing two new books in the last two years, I finally decided to dig through my files and cover Mr. Johnson's story so that he will no longer be forgotten from the annals of history.

B.R.C. Johnson, also known as Baptistine Roche Charles Johnson was born around 1821. It is unknown when he arrived in Calaveras County, but what is known is that he was the proprietor of his store/saloon along the Calaveras River somewhere between Valley Springs and San Andreas. I have been able to pinpoint a closer idea of where the store was located, since it is mentioned that it was west of Greasertown, and Greasertown was 4 miles west of San Andreas. I am thinking that his store was probably closer to Double Springs, but I have not been able to tie down an exact spot.

The Crime

On September 27, 1866, 45-year-old  B.R.C. Johnson was brutally murdered inside his store. Just after dusk, three men (one Mexican male- Jesus Miranda; one African-American male- John B. Ferguson; and one Chinese male- Ah Ching) entered his store acting like normal patrons. They ordered drinks at the bar and all seemed okay. Then during a short conversation with Mr. Johnson, Jesus Miranda suddenly drew his pistol and shot Johnson at point blank range.  In all Johnson was shot three times and then, as if that wasn't enough, the Chinese assailant took an axe and used it to penetrate Johnson's skull. There was not much taken from the store, only $30 and a few guns. Johnson's clerk survived out of pure luck when Ah Ching's revolver got jammed, giving the clerk ample time to run away.  By the time he had alerted someone for help, the murderers were long gone.

(Drawing is purely for example; Credit: Book: The Old West-The Gunfighters)

The Arrest

After the murder was committed, Miranda and Ferguson headed up to West Point to meet up with someone named Manuel Manoa. Ah Ching had parted ways with the two men at San Andreas and was never seen or heard from again.  After getting paid, Miranda eventually left for Southern California, while Ferguson remained in West Point, where he was captured only a few days after the killing. For Miranda, it was almost a year later when Deputy Sheriff Lee Matthews apprehended him in Los Angeles and brought him back up to Mokelumne Hill to stand trial.  In February of 1868, both men were convicted of the murder of Johnson and sentenced, by the Hon. S.W. Brockway of the District Court, to be hanged until dead on February 28, 1868.

The Great Escape

On a dark and stormy night in Mokelumne Hill, Ferguson and Miranda along with another African-American prisoner named Brian Fallon, who was in jail for the murder of Mr. McKisson at Rich Gulch, made their escape under the cover of darkness. The three prisoners successfully cut their way out of their cells from the ceiling which was composed of boards without covering. The men managed to break free from their shackles, pile buckets on top of one another along with an old chair and Ferguson reached the ceiling and cut his way out with a sharp pointed instrument  which the newspapers assumed was a three-cornered file.

While he was cutting away, the other inmates were singing, clanking chains, dancing and making noise to distract the jailer from hearing Ferguson breaking the boards apart.  Joe Douglass, who worked at the jail in the front room was totally unaware of what was going on in the back. When Douglass finally took a break to get dinner, the prisoners escaped.  At one point it looked as though the men might have contemplated committing another murder, as they would have had to climb over a partition into the front room where Douglass worked, and had he returned during the escape, he might have been attacked from above. But since there was a ventilation system, the inmates decided to crawl out of the building through there, and jumped to the ground. They eventually climbed their way over the jail-yard fencing area and ran down the hill to the river.

A witness saw the men running in the dark and alerted Douglass, who had returned from dinner. Sheriff James Oliphant and Deputies Matthews, Bates and Colton took off on the hunt for the three men but the weather was so bad, they had to return early and wait until the storm cleared in the morning to continue the manhunt.  Ferguson made it all the way to Clinton in Amador County before he was captured, and Miranda was caught shortly thereafter.

The Motive

Records I found via FamilySearch.com indicate that B.R.C. Johnson married Cisira Nandino on January 8, 1863 in Calaveras County.  According to information obtained by Maureen Elliot, she states that Mr. Johnson's wife deserted him around 1866, and would not allow him to see their daughter, Victorina A. Johnson, whom the couple had parented during their short  marriage.

As it turned out although she had left Mr. Johnson, his estranged wife still had plans for her husband, and the dying confession of John B. Ferguson let the cat out of the bag.  The web of deception grew larger and larger when the facts were revealed that although Miranda had conspired with Ferguson and Ah Ching at Garry's Saloon to commit a murder, Miranda had been propositioned earlier by someone representing Mrs. Johnson herself. It appears all fingers inevitably pointed to Cisira Nandino Johnson, as the one who wanted the dastardly deed done. 

John B. Ferguson, 20 years old and from Beardstown, Illinois, had been residing in Calaveras County with his parents for several  years prior to his involvement in Johnson's  murder. When he gave his full confession, he requested Reverend Cassidy and Walsh to visit him and asked forgiveness of his sins prior to his execution.


"On the Saturday prior to the murder of Johnson, I  met Jesus Miranda on China Street, in San Andreas, near Garry's Saloon. (Corner of Main and St. Charles Streets). He asked me if I would go with him and a Chinaman on Sunday evening to Johnson's store. I asked him why he wanted me to go and he answered, "to kill Johnson.." I told him I would go with him, but would not help kill Johnson. He said there is money in it and Manuel Manoa, Mrs. Johnson and a Mexican, who peddled fruit for Manoa, would pay him $500 or $600 to kill Johnson and he knew Johnson had in his store $800 or $1000, which we could get. I then consented to go with him.

On Sunday about noon, I met Miranda at the same place as before and told him I would not go with him on Sunday, but would go on Monday.  On Monday, a little after noon, I met Miranda at his cabin, back of China Street, in San Andreas; he put on his knife and pistol and we started for Johnson's store. I had no weapon with me. On the hill near Latimer's store, we met the Chinaman, who was armed with a revolver. We traveled together through Greasertown. We sat down on the road for some time, and I refused to go any further with him, but after a good deal of persuasion I consented to go along. We arrived at Johnsons's store just at dusk. He was standing on the porch in front of the store. We went in and Miranda asked us up to the bar to take a drink. We drank together and sat down. Miranda entered into conversation with Johnson, but I do not know what they were talking about. Shortly Miranda asked us up to drink again. About that time Johnson's clerk, Sturgnickle, who had been present since our arrival, left the store and went to the back room or kitchen.

While Johnson was in the act of passing the bottle of liquor on the bar, Miranda shot him. I then ran out of the door toward the barn. Miranda called to me to come back. Johnson was not dead when I got back, and was lying behind the counter, where he fell when first shot. Miranda then shot him twice more, and then cut his throat with his knife, and the Chinaman struck him on the head with an axe or hatchet. The understanding was that the Chinaman was to kill Sturgnickle, the clerk, and the reason he did not kill him when he come into the store from the kitchen, when the pistol was discharged by Miranda, was because his pistol would not go off. I then ran out to the corral, near the house; Miranda came after me and gave me Johnson's shotgun, returned to the store and brought me a revolver, after which he went back to the store, and with the Chinaman, search it for money and other valuables. The found only $30 in coin.

We then all went to San Andreas together. Miranda complained of the Chinaman for not killing Sturgnickle. Miranda and myself then started for West Point, leaving the Chinaman at San Andreas, and I have never seen him since; do not know where he is. Miranda told me he had made 3 or 4 efforts to kill Johnson within the month previous to the murder, but could not on account of the presence of too many persons at the store.The evidence as given by Sturgnickle, Johnson's clerk, in court was all true. I was the person he met as he came out of the kitchen, when the Chinaman was in pursuit of him. There was no agreement between Miranda and myself as to the amount I was to receive, but it was understood between us that I was to receive a part of the sum paid him.

After we arrived at West Point, Miranda met with Manoa's fruit peddler, who I think is a brother-in-law of Mrs. Johnson, and had a conversation with him, the purport of which I do not know, as I did not listen to it. I wish my parents, sisters and brother to be informed of the statement I have made and that my brother may take warning by  my fate and profit by it."--- Confession of John B. Ferguson.


The Outcome


On March 4, 1868, John B. Ferguson and Jesus Miranda were hanged on the old  hangman's tree in Mokelumne Hill, which was once located behind the courthouse (now behind the Hotel Leger). The first try for Ferguson failed when the rope was not properly adjusted and the knot slipped, causing him to fall to the ground. He then stated, "May God take care my soul," as he mounted the scaffold for the second time. At 12:45 the drop fell and Ferguson passed on. The newspapers seemed somewhat sympathetic to Ferguson probably because of his claim that he did not actually physically take part in the murder, but neither the County nor the press had any interest in Miranda's backstory. Besides the short mention that both men were hanged, there was not one detail about Miranda's execution either.

Although the newspapers indicate that Cisira was implicated, as well as Manuel Manoa and his "fruit peddler," I could not find any further record whether or not the authorities followed through to hold anyone else accountable for the crimes. In the end it was only Miranda and Ferguson who hanged for the murder, as Ah Ching was never apprehended.

This entire story bothered me to my core. From Miranda's complete disregard for a human beings life just for an easy payday, to Ah Ching's brutal over-kill by using an axe to finish off an already dead man. And don't let me get started on Johnson's estranged wife! She was another sick and twisted part of this story, and the fact she was able to manipulate men to do her dirty work just disgusted me. I see that Ferguson said he was repentant of his involvement but so many criminals say they are sorry after they are caught and facing serious consequences. Perhaps he was just a young man who got involved with the wrong people and made bad choices, but he knew the plan was to kill someone-- a perfect stranger, for money.  Unfortunately the punishment fit the crime for both Jesus Miranda and John Ferguson. I have often wondered about the other murderer, Ah Ching and how he conveniently disappeared. Did he take off and live his life free from the consequences of his actions, or did Miranda kill him too? Who knows really....perhaps a 50/50 cut between Miranda and Ferguson seemed like a better choice than cutting their money three ways. That is always a thought to ponder....remember there is no honor among thieves, so I wouldn't have put it past Miranda, and I doubt Ferguson would have been willing to admit another murder on his hands.

The whereabouts of Mr. Johnson's grave is unknown at the present time, but I am hoping maybe one day someone out there might have a missing piece of this story, so I can visit his grave and pay him my respects. He was the real victim in this story, a story that for far too long has been lost. 

Rest In Peace, Mr. Johnson -- You are not forgotten.

(Visit his Find-a-Grave memorial here.)

(J'aime Rubio - Copyright 2017,  www.jaimerubiowriter.com)

Sources:

Sacramento Daily Union, 3/2/1868

Daily Alta California, 1/27/1868, 9/15/1867

Sonoma Democrat, 2/1/1868

Stockton Daily Independent, 3/4/1868

Calaveras Chronicle 2/29/1868