Gypsy’s Lament

Gypsy’s Lament

With her hands burned to a crisp and scarcely an inch of her body that is not frightfully charred Mrs. Mary Mills, commonly known as “Mother Mills,” lies at her home in the tenderloin district, on lower D street, suffering intense pain and with probably but a few more hours to live. “Mother Mills” is over eighty years old and now she is dying from injuries inflicted by a girl called “Gyp,” whom she has sheltered and given such a home as a First street house can afford.

— The San Bernardino County Sun (California), August 25, 1901

San Bernardino is a beautiful city in southern California, nestled in the San Bernardino Valley — “The Valley of the Cupped Hand of God” — as native peoples originally called it. The city dates to the 1860s, when pioneers arrived in covered wagons. Most of the travelers were male and soon a thriving business in prostitution was established in San Bernardino. For years city officials passed laws to try to control and even eliminate prostitution, but the laws were often ignored. Prostitution was popular with many of the citizens and it also provided an economic base and a “prime source of cash” for years, according to writer Harvey Kahn.

Prostitution also had countless human costs. It played a major role in a horrendous tragedy that occurred in San Bernardino in 1901.

 

San_Bernardinos

San Bernardino’s “D” street, ca.1905. California Historical Society Collection.

At about 8 p.m. on a sweltering Saturday night in late August, Mary “Mother” Mills ran screaming from an “assignation house” (see note at the end of the story) on D Street. Her head and clothing were covered in flames that were described as “cooking her flesh.” Born in Ireland, she was 76 years old and had owned a number of San Bernardino “sporting houses” over the course of her long career, which was said to date back to the early years of the city’s existence.

Mother Mills collapsed on the ground, writhing in pain. Help arrived shortly, but it was several minutes before the flames were completely extinguished. She was carried back into the house, laid carefully on a cot and a doctor was summoned. It took some time for him to locate an unburned section of her body in which to inject morphine in an effort to reduce her suffering from the burns that covered her body. Due to the extent of her injuries, she was not expected to recover.

The San Bernardino police took Gypsy Adams into custody that night and charged her with the attempted murder of Mother Mills. Gypsy or “Gyp” as she was known, was a middle-aged inmate of the brothel where Mother Mills also lived. She was known for her volatile temper and addictions to alcohol and opium. The other prostitutes in the house tried to prevent her from taking an oil lamp into her room, because she had a history of throwing things when she got angry. They feared that someday, in a fit of temper, she would burn the house down. Instead she apparently had thrown a lighted lamp at Mother Mills and burned her down. Mother Mills succumbed to her injuries the following day.

Gypsy had no lawyer at her arraignment a few days later, so she represented herself. One of the witnesses that day was 26-year-old Bessie Turner, who, according to the 1900 census was the head of the brothel where Gypsy lived. “You’re a dope fiend, ain’t you,” Gypsy inquired of Bessie. “No, I ain’t,” snapped Bessie, who one reporter described as having “blood in her eye, that even paled the rouge on her cheeks.” The women exchanged insults and curses, until finally Bessie grabbed the judge’s gavel and hurled it at Gypsy’s head. It missed Gypsy and landed on the leg of a police officer. However her demonstration of temper and willingness to throw objects in anger did not deflect suspicion for the murder from Gypsy to Bessie. Gypsy was charged with murdering Mother Mills and held for trial.

An African-American prostitute named Kate Parker, who lived in the brothel next door, was the first person on the scene after Mother Mills ran out of the house. She testified at Gypsy’s trial that Mother said “Gyp hit me with a lamp. Look at my forehead,” as Kate ran towards her to help. The testimony was objected to as hearsay and it wasn’t allowed at trial. However the judge allowed in statements allegedly made by Mother Mills about how she had befriended Gypsy when others had spurned her.

Gypsy testified that she had eaten about half a pound of opium and she was so crazed by the drug that she didn’t know what happened the night Mother Mills caught fire.

The jury was convinced of Gypsy’s guilt but was torn between whether it was first or second degree murder. First degree would have meant a mandatory death sentence. They chose instead to find her guilty of murder in the second degree with a recommendation for mercy. She was sentenced to 25 years in the California State Prison at San Quentin.

Born in Louisiana, Gypsy’s age at the time of her trial was reported to be somewhere between 28 and 37 years. No one knew much about her background and she disclosed very little about herself. Her real name was rumored to be Mary DeSilva and it was said that she was of Creole ancestry.

According to the 1900 and 1910 federal census records, Gypsy was born around 1863 in Louisiana to a Portuguese-born father and a mother born in Ireland. No one of that description appears on the 1870 census under the name “Mary DeSilva” or “Gypsy Adams” or any variations of those names. It’s possible her family slipped through the cracks and didn’t get counted or possibly both names were aliases.

Gypsy or Mary or whatever her name was, left Louisiana and wound up in Chicago. Using the name Maria Desylva she married Timothy McCarthy, a man she later claimed was her uncle, in March 1882. She and Timothy had a son, also named Timothy, in 1884. She stated later that her husband was a policeman and he was killed in the Haymarket riot on May 4, 1886, despite the fact no one of that name appears in the Illinois death index for that date. She had another child in 1888, George McCarthy, who only lived a few months. Obviously if her husband died in 1886 he could not have been the father of George. After George died, in 1888, Gypsy put her son Timothy in an orphanage and headed west.

Next there’s an eight year gap in her timeline, until she appeared in the news in 1896 when she was jailed as a “vagrant and lewd person” in San Pedro, California. Immediately after she was released from jail she went to Los Angeles where, under the name Mary Jacinta De Sylva, she married a Michigan native named William Tossell. For some strange reason Tossell worked as both a barber and jeweler. In 1899 he signed up to fight in the Spanish-American War which effectively ended the marriage — Gypsy claimed he’d abandoned her. By 1900 she’d moved to the San Bernardino brothel. She was divorced from William Tossell in 1902.

Gypsy Adams all

California State Archives, Sacramento, California. Department of Corrections San Quentin Prison Inmate Photographs 19075-19674.

Gypsy served ten years of her sentence and was paroled in December 1911. A few months later she wound up in the tenderloin district of Carson City, Nevada, where she got so drunk that the police were called. She had violated her parole and was returned to San Quentin. She said that she would rather be in prison, where she was sure of having food, clothing and shelter, than be free but without money or friends. She was released from prison in March 1917.  At that point the trail of her ill-fated life goes cold.

Note: I use the words “brothel” and “prostitute” for clarity but these words were not used at that time the events in this story took place. Instead euphemisms such as “assignation house,” “sporting house” or “resort” were used to for the place and  “soiled doves,” “women of the half-world” or simply “inmates” were the terms for those who worked in the place.

Featured photo: Gypsy Adams, inmate photo from the Photograph Album of San Quentin Prison, California State Archives; Sacramento, California.

The Love Nest

The Love Nest

COLTON, Sept. 16.—Accused of living as man and wife at the Anderson hotel here, Mrs. Helen M. Cassidy and William J. McLean, prominent real estate broker of this vicinity, were in A. W. U’ren’s justice court this morning for preliminary hearing. They are charged with adultery, and also contributing to the delinquency of a minor, with the husband of Mrs. Cassidy as the complaining witness.

The San Bernardino County Sun (San Bernardino, California), Sept. 17, 1926

Helen Cassidy had a stormy marriage. She and her husband Howard separated three times and had also gotten divorced and remarried. By 1926 the couple’s marriage was on the rocks again, so Helen took their youngest child, a five-year-old daughter, and left Howard. He moved back to his home state of Colorado with their two sons.

Helen took up with an older man, a real estate developer named William Johnston “W. J.” McLean. The couple, along with Helen’s child, moved into a residential hotel in Colton, California, a community just east of Los Angeles. The Anderson Hotel was close to where McLean and his business partner planned to build 100 stucco homes inspired by Spanish architecture. The Iowa-born McLean, who was unmarried, had previously worked in the Hollywood film industry as an assistant director.

Anderson Hotel

Anderson Hotel in Colton, circa 1930.

Howard hired a detective to locate his wife and their child. The detective found Helen and the little girl living with McLean at the hotel. The newspapers described the couple’s abode as a “Colton love nest.”

Furious over what Helen had done, Howard brought suit against his wife and McLean for adultery and contributing to the delinquency of a minor child. He also threatened to sue McLean for damages over alienation of Helen’s affections, demonstrating that “hell hath no fury like a man scorned.”

Adultery, defined as sex acts between a married person and someone who is not that person’s spouse, was a criminal offense in California at the time Helen and Howard were battling out their marriage out in the courts. The laws have since been changed and it’s currently only an “offense against public morals” in California, but it remains a crime, at least on the books, in many other states.

Convicted of adultery just after Christmas in 1927, Helen and McLean were sentenced to five to seven years each in state prison. Somewhat ironically, the pair was incarcerated in the same prison — San Quentin. (Women were held in San Quentin from the late nineteenth century until 1933 when the California Institute for Women in Tehachapi opened its doors.) Their mug book photos were taken during a period at San Quentin, in the late 1920s and 1930s, when the subject faced the camera head on and an angled mirror was placed over his or her shoulder. Only a single mugshot photo was produced, reducing both time and cost of photography.

Howard sued for a divorce, which was granted while Helen was still inside, and he got custody of the couple’s three children. Helen requested that she be allowed to see her children once she was released from prison. According to her attorney, “She writes to me that she thinks she has atoned in full, under the execution of the sentence of the law, that a year in prison has changed her and that if she cannot see her three children her heart will break.” The divorce court judge agreed that Helen had “atoned for her sins” and should be allowed to see the children “at any reasonable time.”

Helen was paroled from San Quentin after 14 months and McLean was released after he served 18 months. The couple didn’t reunite after their prison terms were up. McLean returned to L.A., where he no doubt carefully checked the marital status of his future girlfriends. Helen moved to an apartment by herself in Berkeley, just north of the UC campus in northern California. Hopefully Howard followed the judge’s orders and allowed his ex-wife to see her children again.

Featured photos: San Quentin prisoner photos of Helen Cassidy and W.J. McLean. California State Archives.

A Man of Many Mugshots

A Man of Many Mugshots

His Second Term.

MARYSVILLE, Oct. 22, — Antonio Ferasci was today sentenced to ten years in San Quentin for burglary. Ferasci served a term for the same crime from Sonoma County in 1899 under the name Peter Ferasha.

Los Angeles Times, October 23, 1900

Despite the report from the L. A. Times, it was actually Antonio Ferasci’s third sojourn in a California prison.

Born in Switzerland around 1860 to Bernardo and Pasquala Ferasci, by the age of 24 Antonio had immigrated to Canada. He married Cecelia McLean Kelly, a 22-year-old, half-Indian woman who had not previously been married, in a Roman Catholic ceremony on December 18, 1884 in Granville, British Columbia. The marriage was not a success, and Cecelia Kelly, described as a single woman, was an inmate in the Penetanguishene “asylum for the insane” by 1911. She died there, aged 56, of arteriosclerosis on December 16, 1918, and was buried in the hospital cemetery.

Antonio 1st time

San Quentin photos from first sentence to prison

On June 23, 1898, 38-year-old Antonio, described as a laborer, was sentenced to one year in San Quentin Prison for grand larceny. The crime was committed in Riverside County, east of Los Angeles. He was released on April 23, 1899, after ten months served.

Six months later, on October 17, 1899, he was sentenced, under the alias Peter Ferasha, to a year in Folsom Prison for 2nd degree burglary committed in Sonoma County, north of San Francisco. “Peter” claimed he worked as a dairyman before his conviction. He may have been connected with the Union Creamery Company, a dairy business started in San Luis Obispo by Swiss brothers named Louis and Angelo Ferasci in 1895. If so, the brothers were no doubt not pleased to share a surname and possibly bloodlines with a convicted criminal.

Antonio 2nd time

Folsom photos from second sentence to prison

Apparently officials didn’t realize that Antonio had been to prison in 1898. If they had known he was a repeat offender it’s likely would have gotten a longer sentence. Instead he again served ten months and was discharged on August 17, 1900.

Antonio, two times an ex-con by 1900, was not finished yet with crime or its consequences.

Two months after his release from Folsom, he was convicted of 2nd degree burglary committed in Marysville, a city in Yuba County, north of Sacramento. He listed his job as “stone fitter” at the time of his arrest. This time officials were wise to his previous two-term record, so he was given a ten-year sentence to San Quentin. He served six and a half years and was released on April 24, 1907.

Antonio 3rd time

San Quentin photos from third sentence to prison

The third time worked the charm! It’s impossible to know whether or not he reformed, but Antonio never went to prison again, at least not in California.

Featured photos: Antonio Ferasci mugshot photos taken by a professional photographer in Marysville, California, in October 1900. From a glass negative in the collection of the author.

Other photos from the California State Archives, Sacramento.

The Veiled Man

The Veiled Man

Ernest Long, marine engineer, who was arrested last Monday night on a charge of masquerading as a woman on the street, figured as a defendant in two court actions yesterday.

 

He appeared in Police Judge D.S. O’Brien’s court to answer to the masquerading charge, where he entered a plea of guilty.

 

The costume which Long wore at the time of his arrest was produced in court. It consisted of frilly lingerie, spiderweb silk stockings, fancy pumps and other feminine attire.

 

Judge O’Brien continued the case until next Wednesday to gave (sic) Dr. O’Neill further time for observations.

 

Mrs. Lulu Long, the engineer’s wife, made him a defendant in divorce proceedings in the superior court yesterday afternoon, alleging cruelty.

San Francisco Chronicle, March 25, 1922

Ernest Long was arrested on March 21, 1922, in San Francisco for dressing in “women’s garb” and for carrying a concealed weapon — a revolver — that police found on him. At the time of his arrest Ernest worked as a marine engineer on the steamship “Rose City,” which traveled between San Francisco and Portland.

Ernest Long passport photo

Ernest’s wife, Lulu, told police he awakened her in the middle of the night and forced her to help him dress in women’s clothes, then instructed her to go back to bed. Lulu also claimed that Ernest had been dressing as a woman for the past seven years, since their marriage in 1915, and that he only owned one suit of men’s clothing.

“I’m trying to hook up with a vaudeville circuit,” he explained. “But I’m not ready yet. I wouldn’t want any publicity right now.” Seems like an odd comment from a man who spent his life working in male-dominated jobs, including as a machinist, engineer, plumber and sailor.

Unfortunately he got plenty of publicity, when articles about his arrest appeared in newspapers around California and in his native town of Portland, Oregon.

Why was Ernest arrested? In 1863 a law was passed in San Francisco making it a criminal offense for a person to appear in public in “dress not belonging to his or her sex.” The law would remain in place until 1974. San Francisco was not alone — many other American cities also passed laws prohibiting cross-dressing.

 

cross dresser group

Men arrested in 1927 in Los Angeles for cross-dressing. Jesse Brown Cook scrapbook.

Ernest was born into an extremely unusual family. His father, Pon Long, was Chinese and his mother, Selina, was born in England. The couple met in 1877 when Selina worked as a teacher in a private Chinese school in San Francisco. Pon, described as a lawyer and merchant, had immigrated to America in 1869. The couple managed somehow to get a marriage license, despite the anti-miscegenation law in California prohibiting marriage between people of different races. Their marriage, described in the news as a “strange affinity,” shocked San Franciscans.

The Long family spent the next 12 years in Portland, Oregon, where they were tolerated despite the law there against interracial marriage. In 1889, when Ernest was an infant, Pon, Selina and their six children sailed to China. A seventh child, Mabel, was born in Hong Kong in 1892. The family spent years dividing their time between China and America. The children, including Ernest, identified as Caucasian on census and passport documents.

The San Francisco police photographed Ernest in full gear for use as evidence in court, even though the clothes he wore when arrested were submitted as evidence. Unusually for police suspect photos, he looks relaxed, pleased and dreamy-eyed. His legs in their “spiderweb silk stockings” appear heavy and masculine, but his feet are surprisingly petite. It’s probable that he saw bound feet on girls and women while he lived in China. He may have hoped to emulate the look, considered a mark of beauty in China and also thought to be a sexual stimulant for a woman’s male partner.

The 1922 arrest wreaked havoc on Ernest and his family. Lulu filed for divorce and later deserted him, taking their three children with her. However the couple reunited and had five more children, though ultimately, they divorced in the early 1940s.

Ernest died in San Diego, California, 55 years after his arrest for “masquerading as a woman.”

Featured photos: Ernest Long, Mar. 21/22, Jesse Brown Cook Scrapbooks Documenting San Francisco History and Law Enforcement, ca. 1895-1936. Collection of the UC Berkeley, Bancroft Library.

Also shown: Ernest Long, 1917 passport photo.

 

 

The Mind Reader

The Mind Reader

Leon Daniels, who has been traveling about the city for some weeks, and who claims to be a mind-reader, will appear before Judge Davis this morning. He is accused of stealing from the Central Hotel an overcoat belonging to the proprietor.

The Record-Union, Sacramento, California, February 8, 1897

He most likely got off with a fine or short jail sentence for the theft of the Sacramento hotel proprietor’s coat. Not only was he a mind reader, he also a hypnotist, so perhaps he used that skill with the judge to avoid a conviction. At any rate, the newspapers made no mention of a prison sentence for Shasta Leon Daniels.

“Shasta Leo,” as he was often called, was born in 1866 in Iowa to Alvah Daniels, an itinerant cooper and carpenter, and his wife Sarah (Millard) Daniels. His parents were born in New York. After their marriage they moved their growing family westward, from Wisconsin to Iowa to Dakota Territory (now South Dakota), finally settling in the Napa County wine region of Northern California by 1890. Leon had four older sisters and a younger brother, all of whom lived conventional lives, while the quirkily named Shasta Leo followed his bliss.

Instead of working a regular job he traveled around the west, plying his unusual trade and stealing the occasional item when commerce was slow and his funds got low. “Daniels is an odd genius who travels over the country telling fortunes, hypnotizing people or almost anything that will bring in a few dimes. He is said to be quite an adept at slight-of hand,” was how one Oregon newspaper described him.

albany train depot

Albany Train Depot, 1895

Shasta Leo liked to drink and occasionally tippled a bit too much. On a fine April day in the year 1900, he and his friend, Charles Berry, had been drinking in Albany, Oregon, and decided to ride the rails to Eugene. Shasta Leo hopped on a lumber train car while it was moving and slipped, falling between two cars. His left leg hit one of the rails and was run over by the wheel of the train, mashing the flesh to jelly but leaving most of the bones unbroken, according to one newspaper description of the incident.

He was taken to a nearby boarding house, where his leg was amputated just below the knee. “Daniels took the matter philosophically and seemed as little disturbed as any one around,” reported the Albany Democrat the day after the accident. Hopefully his inebriated state helped with the pain, at least for a while. Initially no one was sure if he would survive. Since he had no money, the taxpayers of Linn County paid the surgeon’s bill.

Not only did he survive, he was well on the road to recovery by May. By June he was able to return to California, where he convalesced at the home of his pharmacist brother in Napa. Evidently he took to roaming again after his leg was fully healed. Shasta Leo died on January 10, 1911, in Los Angeles, far from his family in Northern California.

Featured photo: mugshot of Shasta Leon Daniels taken in 1897 in Sacramento, California. Collection of the author.

Albany Train Depot from the Salem Public Library Historic Photograph Collections, Salem Public Library, Salem, Oregon.

Siblings Evil

Siblings Evil

This is a disturbing and unpleasant story so please stop reading now if you have a weak stomach or if what you read tends to haunt your dreams.

Thirteen-year-old Helen Rumball, known as “Nellie,” was found dead in the attic of her home near in Gridley, California on June 26, 1911. The child was hanging from the attic rafters from a rope. Her body and legs were a mass of bruises and the attic was stiflingly hot, the temperature said to be close to 130 degrees. An incubator, possibly for eggs, was described as going “full blast” near where the child’s body was hanging. Needless to say, Nellie’s death was not the result of natural causes.

Helen Rumball

Nellie Rumball, The Pittsburgh Press, July 10, 1911

Nellie was the daughter of a Maine couple, William Rumball and his first wife, Budie. Her mother died before she turned one. A couple of years later William took a new wife, Emma Lewis, 16 years his junior. Emma was born in Minnesota to Norwegian parents. Around 1910 the Rumballs and their two children, Frances, age 4, and William, age 1, and William’s daughter, Nellie, moved to Gridley, California, in sparsely populated Butte County. There they took up ranching for a living.

William died in Gridley on September 27, 1910 of a kidney and liver ailment. Though not a rich man, he left an estate worth a few thousand dollars and it was divided in his will between his wife and Nellie. In splitting his estate this way he might have, inadvertently, signed Nellie’s death warrant.

Little Frances Rumball told the police she heard her half sister crying in pain in the attic. She pleaded with her mother to be allowed to go to Nellie and comfort her but her mother refused and told her to go to bed. Later that night Emma awakened Frances and William and informed them that Nellie was dead.

Nellie’s stepmother, 23-year-old Emma, admitted that she took the child to the attic, tied her up and left her there as punishment for not adequately completing her chores on the family ranch. Emma acknowledged she tied her stepdaughter’s legs with rope and then looped the rope under her arms and around her neck and secured it to a rafter. She claimed she was shocked that the child had died and suggested to police that perhaps Nellie committed suicide or her death resulted from her struggles to get free.

Emma Rumball multi

San Quentin mugshots of Emma Rumball, April 12, 1912.

The early twentieth century was a time in America when harsh punishments were often doled out by parents to their children. Most people didn’t think twice about it, but clearly Emma had overstepped the bounds, even for that age.

Police were not satisfied with Emma’s explanations about Nellie’s death so she elaborated on her theory. She told them that her younger brother, Arthur Lewis, also a resident of Gridley, had gone to the attic while Nellie was tied up and taunted her until “she became frenzied in her efforts to free herself.” Emma thought Nellie died in the process. Why Arthur would do such a thing was not clear. The police weren’t buying the story.

An autopsy was held on the body and it determined that two vertebrae in Nellie’s neck had been dislocated, leading to her death. The doctors who performed the autopsy believed there was no way Nellie could have inflicted the injury on herself nor could it have happened by accident because her bonds were so tight that she had been unable to move. They believed she had either suffered a “blow” that caused her death or her neck had been twisted and intentionally broken.

The police also reexamined the death of William Rumball, nine months earlier, to determine if he had been “the victim of a plot.” They decided his death was due to natural causes.

The siblings pointed the finger at each other. Their demeanor was sullen and remorseless. They showed no concern that a young girl — a relative — had lost her life in a horrific way. Initially Emma was charged with murder and Arthur was charged with accessory to murder, but a few months later his charge was changed to murder after coworkers claimed that he had killed cows by twisting their necks. A decision was made to try the pair separately.

Arthur was found guilty of manslaughter on January 3, 1912. Eight of the jurors wanted to convict him of first-degree murder and four wanted an acquittal, so the verdict was a compromise. On April 5, 1912, just before she was slated to go to trail, Emma took a plea of guilty to manslaughter rather than risk a jury trial.

Arthur Lewis multi

San Quentin mugshots of Arthur Lewis, January 8, 1912.

The siblings were both sent to San Quentin State Prison, however his sentence was ten years while her sentence was only two years. Apparently it pays to be a young, attractive woman when a judge sentences you for manslaughter.

Arthur was released from prison after six years. He moved to North Dakota and enlisted in the army during World War I. After he returned from the war he got married and spent the rest of his life farming. He died in 1954, aged 65. We’ll never know if he ever talked to his sister again.

Incredibly Emma, who only served a year and seven months of her sentence, returned to the tiny town of Gridley after her release from prison. There she worked as a dressmaker, raised her son and daughter and took care of her elderly mother. She lived for years at 885 Kentucky Street. She even remarried late in life. She died, aged 70, and is buried in the Gridley-Biggs Cemetery along with her husband, William, and the stepdaughter that she punished — to death.

Featured photos: Mugshots of Emma Rumball and her brother Arthur Lewis. California State Archives, Sacramento, California; Department of Corrections San Quentin Prison Inmate Photographs.

No Dainties for Him

No Dainties for Him

An impulsive, violent act has the potential to ruin a young man’s life. William Lincoln Parkhill committed such an act in 1896 in Sacramento, California.

Parkhill, a street vendor who sold tamales, attacked a child of ten, Lillie Frank, and attempted to rape her on the morning of Monday, August 24. Lillie (or Lulu; both names were reported in the papers) was home alone when Parkhill somehow got into the Frank house at 1327 Fourth Street.

The attack was interrupted when two neighbors of the Frank family heard Lillie’s screams and came running. Valentine Bitterworlf and Charles Caa discovered Parkhill trying to smother the child with a pillow. Parkhill made a run for it, grabbing a nearby horse and buggy nearby but the horse got loose and the buggy went nowhere. Parkhill was captured and turned over to the local sheriff.

The locals were so angered by the crime that they geared up to lynch Parkhill. Cooler heads prevailed and he ended up in the Sacramento jail. However one local woman, possibly attracted to Parkhill’s youthful good looks, tried to send him “baked beans and other dainties” in jail. The food was returned to her. The local newspaper reported the incident in an outraged tone, noting that the “dainties did not tickle Parkhill’s palate.”

One of the things no man can understand is the sympathy shown by some women to criminals and displayed under circumstances where no one would expect it to be.

The Record-Union, Sacramento, California, September 2, 1896

Lillie Franks testified against William Parkhill, as did Bitterwolf, the man who intervened and halted the attack. Parkhill, who looks unconcerned in his mugshots, did not have an attorney and he made no effort to defend himself. He pleaded guilty to the crime.

3William Parkhill_prison mugshots

William Parkhill, Folsom Prison photographs. California, Prison and Correctional Records, 1851-1950.

19-year-old William Parkhill was given a 12-year sentence for assault to rape and sent to Folsom State Prison. He served 7 years and 8 months of his sentence and was released on May 19, 1904.

After his release from prison, Parkhill, who was born in Connecticut, returned to the northeast, settling in Massachusetts. In November 1904 he married a Boston woman named Mary French who was seven years his senior. He tried his hand at blacksmithing and at selling insurance. But by 1910 Parkhill had run afoul of the law again and found himself an inmate of the Massachusetts Reformatory in Concord.

He was out of prison when he registered for the draft in 1918, listing his mother Hattie, as his next of kin, his nationality as Canadian and, strangely, his profession as “train nurse.” William Parkhill died, aged 41, soon after completing his draft registration, possibly a victim of the influenza pandemic.

Featured photos: William Parkhill’s mugshot photos. The handcuffs are just visible at the bottom of the photos. Collection of the author.