SANTA FE JUSTICE
The outlaws were brought to Santa Fe, where District Attorney Lewis Fort prosecuted them. Presiding over the trial was Judge Thomas Smith. Encenias and Trujillo were acquitted of murder charges, but were convicted of steeling cattle. The young duo were seen as non-violent pawns.
A jury of their peers found Chavez and Vialpando guilty of homicide on March 3, 1895.
Through interrogation and court proceedings Chavez and Vialpando confessed to their evil deeds. On April 12, 1895, the murderers received a death warrant. The gunmen were to be executed in public by hanging on Saturday November 19, 1895, between the hours of 6:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m.
Chavez and Vialpando appealed the capital punishment judgment. The Territory of New Mexico’s Supreme Court backed the Santa Fe court’s writ. On the day of the hanging, a crowd of spectators, estimated to be from one thousand to one thousand five-hundred, gathered around Santa Fe’s gallows.
As Vialpando was walked from the jail to the hangman’s high platform, the murderer turned pale. Some yarns claim that lawmen, forced or helped the immobile bandit to the wooden tower. Standing erect on the gibbet, Vialpando did not address the crowd. The badman’s last inaudible words were muttered to the hangman and constables, who stood on the gibbet’s slats.
Tall tales have Vialpando getting drunk in his jail cell on the day of his execution. It is recorded that hours before his hanging, Vialpando begged Santa Fe’s Sheriff Cunningham for a bottle of liquor. The dockets have it, that none was forthcoming.
Was Vialpando drunk when he met his fate and this is why he had to be helped to the gallows? I think not, but some old timers contradict the ancient reports and claim fear and smuggled contraband liquor made for Vialpando’s ashen face and slow walk.
My research indicates that most stories, having a villain meeting his death in a stupor, are fabrications. Accounts of anti-heroes not being able to meet their death with a strength, make for good drama. Due to the pathos of the tale, the stretched yarn becomes dogma.
Chavez needed no help in ascending the gallows. As he stood on the scaffolding the condemned man spent his last minutes of life addressing the crowd of spectators in his native tongue of Spanish.
The Deputies on the gibbet translated Chavez’s eighteen-minute speech into English. At first Chavez admitted to everything, then changed his tune and virtually denied he had a hand in Martinez’s murder.
Chavez ended his delivery by saying, “I had always been a good citizen until I started running around with bad company. May God grant that my blood, which is about to be spilled on these gallows, serves as an example and I shall be the last criminal deserving of this terrible punishment.”
After the execution, the outlaws’ corpses were taken to Romeroville, New Mexico, where they were buried. Both bandits left behind wives and children.
Incredibly, the bullet that nearly killed Gallardo was taken out of the dog’s skull, when he was later tended to.
After Chavez’s and Vialpando’s capture, Gallardo was treated as a spoiled member of the Martinez family.
History’s last mention of Gallardo happened on the day of the hanging. Santa Fe’s “New Mexican” newspaper informed its readers that the noble animal had outlived his master’s killers.
“Man’s Best Friend,” reads as a cliché. But that is exactly what Gallardo was. If it had not been for the dog’s loyalty, Tomas Martinez’s fate would never have been known.
HISTORY & PARANORMAL 101
Historical guides tell visitors, “Santa Fe’s gallows were makeshift towers that were located in the Plaza or in front of the old Territorial Courthouse, which was located at 141 East Palace Avenue.
Tourists are then told. “If the populace were in hurry to see justice in action, a tall tree limb would be substituted for the gibbet and a ‘Hanging Bee’ or ‘Bowtie Party’ would commence at these tall tree impromptu sites.”
This tale is partially not true; hangings did occur all around the downtown area, but there is no record of a hasty execution happening in front of the Territorial Courthouse, which is now the Coronado building at 141 East Palace.
Another fallacy that is espoused by tour directors, “The city’s Wild West jail was located at 210 West San Francisco, where the restaurant Tia Sophia’s is now housed.” A plaque placed outside the eatery in 1944, adds to the inaccurate tale.
Using today’s landmarks, Santa Fe’s gallows and jail were roughly situated at 121 Sandoval Street on the parcel of land that is now occupied by the First Northern Plaza building and its parking lot. Perhaps a simpler direction is that the old jail was situated across from where the Hilton Hotel’s (entrance) parking lot is located, or slightly to the East of where the Northern Plaza building is situated.
Santa Fe’s old jail was a multi-story turreted brick building. Unfortunately the last remnants of the big house and gallows were razed during the 1950s and 1960s, by way of urban renewal projects. Earth from this property and adjacent tracts was shifted or taken away to the Santa Fe River and used as flood barriers.
According to paranormal texts and psychics, undisturbed fields or caves can become collectors for low-level energy forces.
This is not the case for the old gallows and jail property, its foundation of earth and rock were radically moved.
Hence there is minimal ghostly activity at this vicinity. (2)
NECK TIE PARTY
(SANTA FE FIGHTS THE LAW)
For generations Santa Fe was known as “The Royal City.” Sadly that moniker is now passé. Santa Feans now call their town, “The City Different.” Why the change?
Starting in 1970, New Mexico’s capital became a haven for actors, artists, blue bloods, and writers. In many ways Santa Fe became a Shangri-La for those seeking a new start in life, be it business or spirituality. Furthering this idea of Utopia, in 1999 Santa Fe was declared by its Mayor and City Council to be a “Sanctuary City” for illegal immigrants. Federal laws were to be nodded and winked at when it concerned citizenship.
Due to these events many non-generational Santa Feans and outside observers view the state capital as a warm fuzzy town of no hard feelings and no consequences. However, contemporary Santa Fe is just the opposite of what the mile high city was during Wild West days. Warm and fuzzy was out and six-gun justice was in.
Mayhem in Santa Fe was matchless when compared to other frontier towns such as Tombstone or Dodge City. Research indicates that the Santa Fe Trail’s capital city is the only town in the United States that can claim the dubious distinction of having its populace rise up and lynch its own Sheriff!
On July 15, 1880, Sheriff Big Jim Dunnigan, who was six-foot six-inches tall and built like an NFL linebacker was lynched by an enraged mob of Santa Feans.
Missourian Dunnigan had worked all over the West as a lawman and enforcer. The big man was a bully and a killer, who used his badge as a shield to mask his nefarious activities.
Countless times while working as a henchman, Dunnigan was lashed or shot, but none of his wounds proved mortal. How tough was this gun for hire?
While in a bar in Prescott Arizona, a pistolero shot Dunnigan in the face and chest. The big man was left to die, but like Bram Stoker’s “Dracula,” Dunnigan could not be killed. The gunman recovered from his near mortal wounds and continued to ply his trade – muscle for hire.
“The Santa Fe Ring” was a group of corrupt businessmen and politicians who ran the Territory of New Mexico as their kingdom. These powerful people thought their thugs were not bold enough when it came