JUDGEMENT NIGHT
The news of Rufugia’s murder swept through city. Hundreds of people went to the College Street dwelling and viewed the homicide scene. The night after the slaying, Santa Feans gathered around a bonfire outside of the Padilla house; and prayed for Rufugia’s soul. According to witnesses, the psalms and mournful chants that came from the group were heard blocks away.
At 1:00 a.m. Tuesday, March 31, 1914, three nights after the barbaric killing, a group of twenty five to thirty people assembled in the Plaza, near the pinnacle monument. Outraged by the senseless death of Rufugia, the lawless mob marched on the jail, which was located near the Santa Fe crossroad of Sandoval and Water Street.
Using contemporary roadsteads, the old jail and its gallows would have been placed in the eastern parking lot of the First Northern Plaza building at 121 Sandoval Street.
Led by five men, the bloodthirsty crowd stormed the jail, but different sources make for mismatched accounts of what transpired after that.
Once inside the multi storied fortress-jail, the hateful men did not rough up the Sheriff, because he was either out of town or at his house, unaware trouble was brewing. GO FIGURE?
Months after the lynching, Deputies Cleofes Jimmenez and Valentin Medrano swore under oath to an investigating tribunal, that they had heard gunshots while on black watch-patrol. Realizing that the jail was under attack the lawmen ran to The Water Street Bastile.
Arriving at the jail the policemen exchanged shots with the leaders of the lynch mob. But evidence does not back up the lawmen’s statements, not one vigilante was hit by a bullet and the lynching went on unimpeded.
THE STREETS RAN RED
Inside his jail cell unarmed Padilla at first fought off his attackers. Overwhelmed the young man was dragged from his cage as he pleaded for his life. Legend attests that Padilla’s jail cell locking bolt mechanism was shot open.
The mob decided not to dispatch Padilla by gunshot or rope. The young husband would die in the same manner as his wife. Death from a thousand cuts would be the killer’s comeuppance.
The avengers, armed with straight razors and pocket knives formed two lines on Water Street. Padilla was told to run the cordon. The woman killer shook his head and stood fast at what is now the intersection of Water Street and Sandoval Street.
Some of the vigilantes drew their pistols and shot into the air or within inches of Padilla’s feet, the beaten man danced a little but would not move from his spot.
Buttressing the tale of shots being fired around Padilla, some citizens who were downtown on the night of the lynching, or lived close to Water Street, thought they heard four gunshot come from inside the jail and around twenty five to thirty shots being fired outside of the building.
Angered by the lady-killer’s self preservation instincts, a few of the mob’s headsmen began to slice at Padilla’s back and scalp.
The condemned man could stand in place and be cut to death or he could sprint down Water Street with the slim hope of finding sanctuary.
With a burst of speed, hands and elbows in front of his face, Padilla ran the avenue between the lines of straight razor-wielding men. Every step the man took a wound was inflicted upon him.
At times the fleeing villain would break through the line of slashing men, but no door on Water Street would open for the badly bleeding man. Padilla would then be man-handled and thrown back into the middle of Water Street.
The henchmen extended Padilla’s torture by leap-frogging to the front of the lines after cutting at the zigzagging fleeing man. Weak from loss of blood and pain, Padilla collapsed between the Don Gaspar and the Galisteo intersections.
Postal clerk Daniel C. Ortiz, who worked nights, heard the commotion of the lynching from blocks away and ran to the murder scene. Padilla was later described as looking like a bleeding shredded canvas. Ortiz went to the prostrate Padilla, who was mumbling, “Agua, agua – water, water.”
The mortally wounded man was taken to Dr. David Knap’s downtown office. The archives and lore do not agree on where Dr. Knap’s office was exactly located.
For three hours Dr. Knap and Dr. J. M. Diaz, along with an unnamed Catholic Padre worked on Padilla. The hewed man told the people around him what had transpired and that he recognized two of his killers. The men Padilla identified were his brother-in-law, Nicholas Blea and Santa Fe Deputy, Cleofes Jimmenez.
Hours after his attack and in great agony, the sutured Padilla was taken back to the jail. At 9 a.m. on April 1st, 1914, Padilla passed on. If Padilla was correct, did lawman Jimmenez let the murderous mob into the jail?
In March of 1915, a Santa Fe Grand Jury was convened, Padilla’s last words were repeated and believed.
On October 25, 1915, eighteen months after the lynching, District Attorney Alexander Reed prosecuted Blea and Jimmenez in the court of Judge E.C. Abbott.
The two defendants were counseled by Attorney A.B. Renchan and Judge Edward R. Wright.
Witnesses to the lynching claimed that the mob spoke Spanish or unaccented English, but the voices could not be recognized. Furthermore, darkness, street light shadows and the masks that the vigilantes wore made positive identification impossible.
Nobody who was called to testify, could identify Blea and Jimmenez as participants in the murder.
Ex-jailer, Francisco Guitierrez had visited with Padilla while he was incarcerated and was with him when he died. Gutierrez stated under oath that Padilla was clear in his words and was not hallucinating when he identified by name the people who had attacked him. It is of note that Gutierrez had a reputation for being an honest man and was also Padilla’s Godfather.
But the jury which was comprised of; Victoriano Gallegos, Urbano Confreros, Francisco Esquibel, Longinn Vigil, Felix Wheelon, Hipolito Lopez, Rafael Maestas, Jiato Ortega, Ramon Sandoval, Juan Sedillos, and Elias Gallegos, thought differently.
At the end of the trial, the jury led by foreman William Gregg disregarded Padilla’s testament. It was ruled that the dying man was delirious from loss of blood. Furthermore, no other arrests were made in connection with the lynching because the court decreed that there was a lack of evidence.
Officially, nobody in contemporary Santa Fe knows of any descendant who participated in this revenging. Hopefully, one day somebody will spill the beans on what happened that terrible night.
Padilla was buried at Rosario cemetery, but I have yet to find his grave.
In a strange twist of Fate, in March of 1915, Camilo Padilla the father of Adolfo Padilla, attempted suicide in his College Street house by cutting his abdomen and throat with a straight razor.
When my tours have visited the old jail’s location, an “Amityville Horror” type question always comes up, “Was the straight razor that Adolfo used to murder his wife with, the same straight razor that his father used on himself?” I do not know?
THE HOUSE IN QUESTION
In 1914, addresses in Santa Fe were half hazard at best, most houses were not listed by way of mail boxes or street numbers. The archives state that Rufugia’s murder happened in an unnumbered house on College Street, no location is given. In 1969 College Street was renamed Old Santa Fe Trail.
Ages ago, a few long-in-the-tooth locals told me that the homicide happened at the Oldest House, which is located at 215 East De Varrgas Street. Depending on the source, the Oldest House’s property line did border onto College Street in 1914.
So did Rufugia’s murder happen in the Oldest House?
I think not, the archives mention a numberless