USA > California > Santa Clara County > History of Santa Clara County California with biographical sketches > Part 17
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48 | Part 49 | Part 50 | Part 51 | Part 52 | Part 53 | Part 54 | Part 55 | Part 56 | Part 57 | Part 58 | Part 59 | Part 60 | Part 61 | Part 62 | Part 63 | Part 64 | Part 65 | Part 66 | Part 67 | Part 68 | Part 69 | Part 70 | Part 71 | Part 72 | Part 73 | Part 74 | Part 75 | Part 76 | Part 77 | Part 78 | Part 79 | Part 80 | Part 81 | Part 82 | Part 83 | Part 84 | Part 85 | Part 86 | Part 87 | Part 88 | Part 89 | Part 90 | Part 91 | Part 92 | Part 93 | Part 94 | Part 95 | Part 96 | Part 97 | Part 98 | Part 99 | Part 100 | Part 101 | Part 102 | Part 103 | Part 104 | Part 105 | Part 106 | Part 107 | Part 108 | Part 109 | Part 110 | Part 111 | Part 112 | Part 113 | Part 114 | Part 115 | Part 116 | Part 117 | Part 118 | Part 119 | Part 120 | Part 121 | Part 122 | Part 123 | Part 124 | Part 125 | Part 126 | Part 127 | Part 128 | Part 129 | Part 130 | Part 131 | Part 132 | Part 133 | Part 134 | Part 135 | Part 136 | Part 137 | Part 138 | Part 139 | Part 140 | Part 141 | Part 142 | Part 143 | Part 144 | Part 145 | Part 146 | Part 147 | Part 148 | Part 149 | Part 150 | Part 151 | Part 152 | Part 153 | Part 154 | Part 155 | Part 156 | Part 157 | Part 158 | Part 159 | Part 160 | Part 161 | Part 162 | Part 163 | Part 164 | Part 165 | Part 166 | Part 167 | Part 168 | Part 169 | Part 170 | Part 171 | Part 172 | Part 173 | Part 174 | Part 175 | Part 176 | Part 177 | Part 178 | Part 179 | Part 180 | Part 181 | Part 182 | Part 183 | Part 184 | Part 185 | Part 186 | Part 187 | Part 188 | Part 189 | Part 190 | Part 191 | Part 192 | Part 193 | Part 194 | Part 195 | Part 196 | Part 197 | Part 198 | Part 199 | Part 200 | Part 201 | Part 202 | Part 203 | Part 204 | Part 205 | Part 206 | Part 207 | Part 208 | Part 209 | Part 210 | Part 211 | Part 212 | Part 213 | Part 214 | Part 215 | Part 216 | Part 217 | Part 218 | Part 219 | Part 220 | Part 221 | Part 222 | Part 223 | Part 224 | Part 225 | Part 226 | Part 227 | Part 228 | Part 229 | Part 230 | Part 231 | Part 232 | Part 233 | Part 234 | Part 235 | Part 236 | Part 237 | Part 238 | Part 239 | Part 240 | Part 241 | Part 242 | Part 243 | Part 244 | Part 245 | Part 246 | Part 247 | Part 248 | Part 249 | Part 250 | Part 251 | Part 252 | Part 253 | Part 254 | Part 255 | Part 256 | Part 257 | Part 258 | Part 259 | Part 260
and a large reward was offered. It was after- ward reported that Felipe escaped to Mexico where he joined a party of revolutionists and that on being captured he was shot and killed.
Another escape from the old county jail took place in 1863. A stage-driver named John Marr, alias "Wild Cat." had an alterca- tion with another driver, a Frenchman named Peter Veuve, at the Washington Hotel, on Market Street, on the morning of Tuesday, November 18, 1862, which resulted in the death of Veuve. It appeared from the testi- mony that an old grudge had existed between the two men. "Wild Cat" accused Veuve of stealing money from Mr. Dutech, the stage owner. The Frenchinan denied the allegation and threatened, on the day of the tragedy, that he would have a "Wild Cat" skin before night. Both men boarded at the hotel. There was trouble at the breakfast table, but they were prevented from doing personal violence. They then proceeded to the stable to "fight it out." On the way to the stable Veuve said to Marr, "I am unarmed. How is it with you?" Marr said, "No," a statement that proved to be false, as he shortly drew a knife and cut Veuve in the arm and the abdomen, causing death in a few hours. Marr was arrested, tried, convicted and sentenced to death. The sentence was imposed in the winter of 1862- 63. Pending the carrying out of the death penalty Marr was placed in a cell at the old county jail, having as companion one Abner Smith, who was awaiting death by hanging for the murder of a man named Van Cleave at Santa Clara. Smith was a large, heavily- built man, while Marr was small and thin. At the time E. H. Swarthout was the jailer, suc- ceeding Roohan, and when he assumed office a change was made in the jail arrangements. Instead of entering the murderers' cell by way of the door, he had a hole cut in. It was about waist high, had a cover, and this cover was kept closed and locked when not in use. The cells were in a long tank with a corridor around it. The corridor had only one en- trance and that was by a door opening into the jailer's office. One evening a short time before supper "Wild Cat" and Smith, who had been planning to escape, made ready to put their plans into execution. The lock of the cover was broken, and "Wild Cat," assisted by Smith, managed to get through the hole into the corridor. Then Smith tried to follow "Wild Cat's" example, but on account of his size was compelled to give up the attempt. He could insert his head and one shoulder, but his physical bulk prevented further pro- gress. "It's no use," he groaned, "I can't make it, so get yourself out as quick as you
106
HISTORY OF SANTA CLARA COUNTY
can and I'll stay here and take my medicine." "I'll have to, I reckon," returned "Wild Cat," "but I'm sorry to leave you. If I only had an hour in which to work, I could make that hole big enough to get you through." As he had only five minutes at his disposal he bade good-bye to Smith, closed the aperture and sought concealment at the further end of the tank. The jailer appeared on time, careless- ly leaving open the door of his office. "Wild Cat" was counting on this act and before Swarthout reached the cell door to discover what had been done, "Wild Cat" had slipped around the corner and gained the office. When the jailer found that "Wild Cat" had es- caped from the cell, he hurried to the office and out of the office into the street. The fugi- tive was not in sight. That night a search of the city was made by city and county officers, but no trace of the missing prisoner could be found. On April 2, 1863, "Wild Cat" was ar- rested in Stockton and brought back to San Jose. But he was never hanged. A petition for a new trial on the ground of newly discov- ered evidence was granted and eventually the sentence was changed from death to impris- onment for life. Ten years later the Governor issued a pardon and "Wild Cat" returned to San Jose. He died here many years ago. Smith, for his crime, died on the gallows.
The last escape from the old jail occurred on the morning of February 15th, 1866, and was followed by a tragedy. Two Indians, under arrest for a murder committed in Santa Cruz County, overpowered W. H. Hendricks, the jailer, and after a desperate struggle suc- ceeded in obtaining the jailer's pistol. They then ran out of the jail and into Third Street. Hendricks quickly secured another pistol and followed in pursuit. He came up with one of the fugitives before he had gone a block and fired, wounding his man. A return shot pierced Hendricks' brain killing him instantly. The murderer ran along Third Street and con- cealed himself under an unfinished building. A crowd gathered around and a fusillade of shots were fired at the crouching murderer. He was soon dispatched. The partner of his crime and flight was afterward caught and hanged at Santa Cruz, May 22, 1866.
The killing of William Cooper brought for a short time to the old county jail a man whose act created one of the great sensations of San Jose. The story of the killing hinged upon the actions of a girl in her teens. In the late sixties Blanche Dubois was a student at the San Jose Institute. She was a very pretty girl, tall, dark, slender and graceful, with languishing eyes and a sunny smile. She had many admirers and there was hardly a
day when she was attending school that she was not seen walking with one or more of them. After she left school for her father's ranch on the Monterey Road near the ceme- tery male callers reached such numbers that Orrin Dubois, the father, grew irritable and suspicious. At last the girl's admirers sim- mered down to one young man, William Cooper, an Englishman. He was about twen- ty-five years of age, well-educated and of pleasing address. He had been a Union sol- dier and had in his possession his discharge papers. He had resided in San Jose for about six months and being short of money had worked at odd times for Dubois, his last en- gagement ending January 24, 1868. The evi- dence showed that during the last two weeks of his stay at the Dubois ranch he had induced Blanche to consent to an elopement, promis- ing to take her to New York and marry her, as under the laws of California he could not do so here without the consent of her parents. It was claimed that the grandfather of the girl was a party to the secret arrangement and carried messages from one to the other.
On Monday afternoon, January 27, Cooper called on Dr. Kline, an acquaintance, made a confident of him, said he expected trouble, as Dubois did not like him, and requested the loan of the Doctor's revolver. Kline refused to lend the weapon, but Cooper succeeded in borrowing a Derringer of Wesley Stevens, another acquaintance. In the meantime, Dr. Kline, from a sense of duty, communicated his knowledge to Police Officer Mitch Bellow and advised him to keep a watch on departing trains. Bellow immediately notified Dubois, and Blanche, under severe cross-questioning, admitted that Cooper was to come to the ranch house on a certain night, after the old folks were in bed and asleep, meet her and then proceed to carry out the arrangements for the elopement. She also said that she had agreed to leave the front door partly open and also that she had promised to gather all the money and jewelry she could lay hands on. Thus forewarned, Dubois watched for the in- truder the great part of Tuesday night. On Wednesday he came to town for the purpose of taking advice as to what he should do un- der the circumstances. He was advised to de- fend his premises, to treat Cooper as he would treat any marauder who should try to enter his house with felonious intent. On return- ing home, Dubois ordered Blanche to keep to her room after dark, for he intended to meet Cooper and have it out with the fellow. Night came and the hours passed until it was close upon midnight. The house was still and Du- bois at the front door, which had been opened a few inches, waited, shotgun in hand, for
107
HISTORY OF SANTA CLARA COUNTY
Cooper to appear. His vigilance was re- warded. At the appointed time Cooper came up the walk, and was about to mount the steps to the porch when the door was thrown open and the shotgun spoke. Both barrels were discharged and as Cooper settled down to the ground, Dubois closed and locked the door and came out again no more that night. Both shots had taken effect in the side and stomach. Though mortally wounded, Cooper dragged himself through the Dubois grounds until he reached the home of a rancher named Reeves, half a mile away. He died an hour later. The next day Dubois drove to town and surren- dered himself to the officers. Pending exam- ination he was confined for a short time in the old jail. The court proceeding resulted in his discharge. Blanche married a few years after the tragedy and left San Jose never to return.
Shortly after the killing of Cooper, another man slayer was for a short time a cell occu- pant at the old jail. The man slain was Harry Love, alias "The Black Knight of the Sey- ante." He was a man of immense frame and of unquestionable bravery. He commanded the company that dispersed the notorious rob- ber band of Joaquin Murietta, the last fight on the San Joaquin plains resulting in Murietta's death. Love's wife was a wealthy landowner and the family home was near Santa Clara. For a number of years she refused to live with her husband on account of his cruelty. He was, so it was said, in the habit of beating her when he could find her alone and unpro- tected. It was partly to guard against such attacks that she employed Christian Elverson to work on the ranch and live in the house. Love spent most of his time in Santa Cruz County, leading a sort of a hermit's life and visiting his wife occasionally. He conceived a strong aversion to Elverson, pretending jealousy, which was wholly groundless, for Mrs. Love at that time was over seventy years of age. Finally Love ordered Elverson to leave the place, threatening to kill him if he stayed on. Mrs. Love earnestly urged him to stay and Elverson promised not to leave, but prudently armed himself. On the day of the shooting-it was in July, 1868-Mrs. Love went to San Jose to transact some business. She was accompanied by Elverson. Love, who had been staying in San Jose for a week or so, saw them together and immediately hurried to his wife's house and there armed himself with a double-barreled shotgun, a re- volver and a bowie knife. A step-daughter and a carpenter employed in repairing the house were the only persons at home when he arrrived there. He went out of the house with his weapons, locked the front gate and
took a position behind the fence to await the return of his wife and Elverson, swearing that if Elverson attempted to enter the premises he would kill him. The daughter, fearing danger to her mother, went into the road and when the carriage approached, motioned it back. Elverson, misinterpreting the girl's gestures, only approached the more rapidly. When within about seventy-five yards of the gate, Love discharged one barrel of his gun, a shot striking Mrs. Love. Elverson at once comprehended the situation. Leaping from the carriage he drew his revolver, and moved rapidly by side steps, upon the enemy, who was still crouched behind the fence and pro- tected by the gate post. When Elverson had come within a short distance of the fence, Love discharged the other barrel of his shot gun, a number of shots striking Elverson in the face and causing the blood to flow freely. But perfectly cool and undaunted, Elverson kept on his course, exchanging shot for shot until a bullet from Love's revolver disabled his right arm. Shitting his pistol to his left hand he rushed up boldly to the fence and sent a bullet through Love's right shoulder. Love, having exhausted his shots, immediate- ly took to his heels, shouting "murder," with Elverson in close pursuit. When near the house Elverson overtook Love and felled him with a blow from the butt end of the pistol. He was about to finish his work when the carpenter interfered. Love died shortly after- ward from the effects of an amputation of the shattered arm. Elverson was arrested, and confined in the old jail pending the prelimin- ary examination. At this proceeding the judge found that the killing was justifiable and Elverson was discharged.
Old Residential Landmarks
Another old and very attractive landmark was the home place of General Henry M. Naglee. It comprised 140 acres and extended from Tenth Street to the Coyote on the east and from Santa Clara Street to William Street on the south. The house was considered in early days to be one of the finest in San Jose. It occupied a position near the centre of the grounds and was surrounded by choice flow- ers, shrubbery and ornamental trees. It is still standing at the northwest corner of Four- teenth and San Fernando Streets. There was a perfect forest of trees on that part of the grounds not devoted to the culture of grapes. From these grapes brandy was made and the fame of Naglee's brandy was world wide. The General was a veteran of the Civil War. He commanded a brigade under Mcclellan, and served with gallantry and ability throughout
108
HISTORY OF SANTA CLARA COUNTY
the Peninsular Campaign. He resigned from the army shortly after Mcclellan's removal, because he held that his chief had been unjust- ly treated. When the avenue was extended from the Santa Clara Street bridge through East San Jose to the junction with the Mt. Hamilton road, General Naglee planted pine trees on both sides of the avenue for its en- tire distance and otherwise greatly assisted in the improvement of the roadway. In honor of his services the extension of the avenue was called for many years Naglee Avenue. Some years after his death, the heirs concluded to cut up and sell the property. The business was placed in the hands of Thomas S. Mont- gomery, now president of the Garden City Bank and Trust Company, and in 1907 the work was started. Today the immense tract of land is covered with pretty and costly bun- galows, paved streets and sidewalks and love- ly gardens, making it one of the finest resi- dence spots in Central California.
Still another old landmark was the Hensley property, on North First Street. It extended from the Southern Pacific tracks to Empire street on the north and from First to Fourth on the east. The house was large, roomy and built in the old southern style, while the ornamentation of the grounds made the place
one of the beauty spots in San Jose. Major Hensley was a '49er and died in 1865, highly respected for his integrity and public-spirited- ness. In 1886 the old home was removed and the estate subdivided and placed on the market, T. S. Montgomery handling the sales. Today there are new streets and hand- some residences where once was one large garden and a touch of the primitive.
In 1887 the old homestead property of Josiah Belden on First Street near Empire was purchased by the Hotel Vendome com- pany. This sale marked the passing of anoth- er old landmark. The property comprised eleven acres and was planted as a park. The house, or mansion, was one of the few costly edifices erected in the early fifties. Josiah Belden was a '49er and long before the sale to the Vendome company he went east with his family, became a New York banker and died a multi-millionaire. The Belden property, then owned by C. H. Maddox, was sold for $60,000, and a hotel building, costly $250,000 was speedily erected. The original board of directors of the Vendome company were J. B. Randal, W. S. Thorne, J. S. Potts, L. Lion, C. WV. Breyfogle, A. McDonald. T. S. Mont- gomery, F. H. Mabury, and G. Lion.
CHAPTER VIII.
Newspapers in the Early Days-J. J. Owens' Sad Experience-Chas. M. Shortridge-E. A. and J. O. Hayes-W. Frank Stewart-Mark Twain's Lecture-The Rise of H. C. Hansbrough-Edwin Markham's Venture- Alex P. Murgotten-H. A. De Lacy-The Peril of Major Foote-Elliott the Adventurer-Kelly and the Grizzly
Since the early days San Jose has had many newspapers; each started to fill "a long-felt want." and each in its honest, able way, carry- ing out, as far as was possible, the landable resolve. In 1850 was published the State Journal. The proprietor was James B. Devoe and it was discontinued on the adjournment of the legislature in 1851. In January, 1857. came the San Jose Daily Argus. It lasted dur- ing the senatorial campaign and was used to promote the candidacy of John C. Fremont.
The first permanent newspaper of the city was the San Jose Weekly Visitor. It was started June 20, 1851, by Emerson, Damon and Jones. At first it was Whig, but went over to the Democracy in October. In Att- gust, 1852, its name was changed to the Reg-
ister and was published by Givins George and T. C. Emerson with F. B. Murdoch as editor. In 1853 Murdoch obtained control of the paper and the name was again changed to the San Jose Telegraph. In 1860 the Telegraph went into the hands of W. N. Slocum, brother of Gen. H. W. Slocum, who commanded one wing of Sherman's army during the march "from Atlanta to the Sea." In 1861 another change of name was made when the paper passed into the hands of J. J. Owen and B. H. Cottle.
The Daily Mercury was started in connec- tion with the weekly paper of that name, but was discontinued in 1862. In 1869 J. J. Con- my, who had come down from Shasta County, was admitted into the firm and in August of
109
HISTORY OF SANTA CLARA COUNTY
that year the publication of the daily was re- sumed. Mr. Conmy retired from the firm this year. In 1871 Cottle sold out his interest to Owen. In 1872, Owen, having purchased the Daily Guide, again resumed the publication of the Daily Mercury in connection with the weekly. Soon after Cottle bought a half in- terest in both papers, but again sold to Owen in 1874. In 1877 it was incorporated under the style of the Mercury Printing and Pub- lishing Company, Mr. Owen holding the ma- jority of the stock. In 1884 he sold his inter- est to Charles M. Shortridge, proprietor of the Daily Times and the name of the paper was changed to the Times-Mercury. In 1885 F. A. Taylor entered into negotiations for the pur- chase of the paper, but the sale was not con- summated. In the meantime the name was changed back to the Daily Mercury. At this time it absorbed the Daily Republic. In 1878 Shortridge sold his interest to a local syndi- cate, with Clarence M. Wooster as manager. Soon afterward the paper became the prop- erty of Alfred Holman, present editor of the San Francisco Argonaut, and after two years of ownership Holman sold to E. A. and J. O. Hayes, who have since controlled the paper.
J. J. Owen was one of the striking figures in San Jose journalism. He was a man among men, generous, broad-minded and scrupulous- ly honest. His editorials were never long nor labored, but each went to the root of the cho- sen subject in such a graceful, charming way as to make the editorial column one always to be eagerly read. He was a poet as well as a prose writer and in his poems his gentle phil- osophy found adequate expression. As a writer of pertinent paragraphs and sermonettes he was unsurpassed in his day and a volume of tabloid essays published in the seventies found ready sale. Copies may still be found in the libraries of old-time residents.
In Owen's time the "intelligent compositor" was conspicuously in evidence. That he sur- vived the imprecations showered upon his "devoted head" must be accounted for by the fact that his head was hard though his sense of humor was keen. Once Owen, coming in contact with the "I. C.," had a rush of blood to the head that in the case of a man afflicted with hardening of the arteries would have caused the formation of a blood clot in his brain and consequent paralysis. The instance which will be here recorded had its incep- tion during the legislative career of the veteran editor. It was about fifty years ago that Owen was elected a member of the California Assembly. Nearly all the time of the session was taken up in the consideration of a prison jute mill scan- dal, the board of managers having been
charged with all sorts of crookedness in the management of the mill. Owen presented the bill calling for an investigation and after its adoption a committee was appointed to hear the evidence and make a report. During the debate Owen's speaking talent was ably and courageously displayed. He was among the foremost in denouncing the managers and when the committee, at the end of the session, handed in a report whitewashing the accused officials, Owen's indignation knew no bounds. He was at white heat over what he termed was a travesty of justice when he returned to his editorial duties in San Jose. Almost his first act on reaching his desk was to write an editorial on the jute mill scandal in which he expressed in forcible language his opinion of the legislators who had given the prison man- agers a clean bill of moral health. The article was headed "There is no balm in Gilead."
After writing the editorial Owen went home, leaving the proof reading in the hands of the foreman of the composing room. Next morn- ing he picked up a copy of his paper and pre- pared to read what cold type had made of his caustic criticism. The first glance at his mas- terpiece sent the blood to his head and made him rise up on his hind legs and howl, for the heading was not "There is no balm in Gilead," but "There is no barn in Gilroy."
As far as the historian can remember Owen had but one scrap with an outsider. In the early days personalities were largely indulged in. When an offending head stuck up the rule was to hit it. Perhaps the dearth of local news was the cause of editorial bellicoseness, but it was not often that a person assailed by a newspaper editor would adopt drastic meth- ods in dealing with his assailant. But once in a while the victim of an editor's attack would attempt retaliation by means of personal en- counter. Some time in the '70s Owen assailed Montgomery Maze, since deceased. Maze was a searcher of records and his assistant was Mitch Phillips, the capitalist, who died in 1918. Maze, who was stockily built and very pugnacious, met Owen at the northwest cor- ner of Santa Clara and Market streets. They did not pass the time of day but they did pass the lie and then Maze sailed in to make mince meat out of the veteran editor. Owen's cane parried the initial blow and Maze stopped sur- prised but not daunted. He made another rush and landed on Owen's nose. Encouraged by his success he tried a left hander, missed the mark and allowed the cane to accomplish its head-aching work. From that time on it was cane and fist, the cane doing the greater punishment. Bystanders interfered when the fight was at its hottest. Both combatants
110
HISTORY OF SANTA CLARA COUNTY
were good sports and friendly relations were soon established.
While Charles M. Shortridge was publish- ing the Daily Times, a report of the proceed- ings of a Democratic County Convention made slurring reference to the speech of one of the candidates for office. The candidate was a Kentuckian who possessed a fiery dsposition. The report made him see red. He hastened to the Times office and found Shortridge alone. With the words, "I am going to punch your head," he made a mad bull rush. The first blow tumbled Shortridge from the high stool on which he had been sitting. In attempting to pursue his advantage the Kentuckian got tangled up in the rounds of the stool and while he was trying to extricate his long legs Short- ridge arose and began to use his fists. A rough and tumble fight ensued. There was one chair in the room and during the struggle it was wrecked as was also the stool. Some- times the Kentuckian would have the advan- tage, sometimes the advantage would be with Shortridge. They fought all over the room and at last stopped from exhaustion. As they lay panting on the floor, with bleeding faces and half-closed eyes, a printer looked in. He gazed in surprise at the wreck and the pros- trate fighters and then said, "An earthquake? Strange I didn't feel it when I was outside." "It wasn't an earthquake," grunted Short- ridge, "It was a Kentucky cyclone." The fight did not settle the differences between the two men. The feud remained though there were no further warlike demonstrations.
After a few years as collector Charles M. Shortridge went into the real estate business. After a time he succeeded in obtaining suffi- cient financial backing to enable him to pur- chase the Daily Times, paying $5,500 for busi- ness and plant. This was in 1883 when he was twenty-seven years old. He was, in truth, the architect of his own fortunes. Soon after he came to California he hired out to the San Jose Gas Company as a lamplighter so as to obtain money to carry him through the public schools. Having graduated with honor he se- cured a position on the Mercury as errand boy to be advanced soon to the position of col- lector. In 1884 he secured control of the stock of the Mercury Printing and Publishing Com- pany and in less than two years from the day he walked out of the office a poor boy, he walked back as a proprietor. He combined the Times and Mercury and proceeded to make the new journal twice as good as either of them was before. In the early '90s he be- came the lessee and manager of the San Fran- cisco Call, a position he retained for several years. Afterward he studied law, opened an
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.