Marin County
Death Records
Transcribed by Betty Wilson
MURDER OF PAUL RIEGER
MURDER OF PAUL RIEGER.—Paul Rieger, a merchant of San Francisco, went up to Tokoloma on Saturday, April 19th. Leaving the train at that station, he took to the creek intending to fish through the day, and spend the night with some friends in the neighborhood. He was expected to return home on Sunday, but he did not come. Monday passed and no word came from him, when his friends became anxious, and on Tuesday search was instituted. This was kept up until Friday, when his body was found on the bank of the creek where he had been fishing, riddled with bullets, and robbed of all valuables as well as a part of the clothing. A Spaniard of San Antonio township was first suspected of the murder, but his innocence was fully established, and he was released. Sheriff Tunstead then became confident that Salavador, a big Indian outlaw, a bold and desperate fellow, whom the Indians called “Salvador the Brave,” was the assassin. On Friday, the day before the murder of Mr. Rieger, Salvador was in Nicasio, without funds, and he started that day for Tomales bay, on a route that would take him through the region of the murder. The next Monday he was in Tomales with plenty of money, drinking copiously and spending freely. Although the Indians were loth to tell anything about him, they divulged the fact that he had a gold watch, and from their description the pants he wore were those of Rieger. May 6th Sheriff Tunstead took out a warrant for his arrest, and hearing that Salvador was at Marshall, went up there but did not find him; the indications were, however, that he had secreted himself in a racheria on the Point Reyes side of the bay. Mr. Tunstead went to Olema, and got a volunteer posse, consisting of Hugh Walker, James Friend, Edward Lewis, Frank Woodson and James Duncan, all well armed, got into the saddle on Saturday night, and proceeded to Point Reyes. Before daylight on Sunday the rancheria was surrounded. Shortly after day-break the Sheriff, seeding no stir, gave a signal and the party closed in and instituted a search, but found no trace of him. The Indians told a great many conflicting stories, the only thing clear being their endeavor to screen Salvador. Still, it is now believed, that he was there at the time. The Sheriff and posse next searched every rancheria on the Tomales side of the bay, but got no trace of the desperado. At this juncture Mr. Tunstead received a dispatch from two city detectives named Hogan and Byram, saying that Salvador was at Nicasio; thither the indefatigable Sheriff at once proceeded, but the wily Indian had again given them the slip, and all trace of him was lost. The theory of the murder, as advanced by the officials was, that he was on his way to Tomales Bay when he encountered Rieger; that he first shot him in the side, and when he fell forward he fired the four shots into his back, then dragged him off under the bush and robbed him. Let us here give the description of the ruffian: “Age about thirty-seven; height five feet nine inches; complexion sallow; eyes and hair black; round, full features; heavy moustache; high cheek bones; scar between the eyebrows; scar on right cheek; scar on left wrist; several cupping marks on right fore-arm; cross in Indian ink on right fore-arm; well built and weighs about one hundred and eighty pounds. You should be very careful how you operate in attempting his arrest, as he is a powerful and desperate man. When last seen he had a Henry rifle, a dragoon six-shooter, an English bull-dog five-shooter and a bowie-knife. He was committed to the State prison in September, 1867, for four years, for the murder of McKean on Tomales bay. He has a mother and sister at the Nicasio Rancheria, a sister at the rancheria on Tomales bay, in Marin county, and also a sister at the rancheria near Ukiah, Mendocino county. He frequents all these places, and also all the rancherias on the Russian river.” While a thorough and effective search was being made in all portions of Marin, circulars containing the above minute description had been sent into the adjacent counties, and no stone was left unturned so that his capture might be effected. On Saturday, the 17th of May, Mr. Tunstead received a telegram from Sheriff Dinwiddie, of Sonoma, asking for a warrant for the arrest of Salvador, who, he said, was on a rancheria near Sebastopol in that county. The requisite authority was at once dispatched and Mr. Dinwiddie proceeded to the scene. Mr. Walker, on whose place Salvador was, and who knew him as soon as he received the circular, informed Sheriff Dinwiddie that he was there. When the latter arrived, Mr. Walker pointed to an Indian house, telling him that he could find his man there, or ascertain where he was. Mr. Dinwiddie went in and asked an Indian where he was. He replied, “Salvador gone. Not here.” The Sheriff returned to Mr. Walker and reported, but the latter reassured him, and he went back and asked the fellow for Salvador, who replied as before. The Sheriff then went back to Mr. Walker again, and this time Mr. W. went into the house with him. “Why,” said Walker, “that is Salvador himself!” “Throw up your hands,” said Dinwiddie; the Indian obeyed, and was forthwith handcuffed. He had no arms upon him, his only weapon being a bowie-knife. He was at once brought to San Rafael and lodged in the county jail. On the 26th of May he was examined before Justice of the Peace Hughes and was held to answer before the Grand Jury. He was indicted on the 2nd of June; on the 23d of July he was arraigned and allowed until the following day to plead to the indictment, when he entered a plea of not guilty, and Monday, the 28th, was set for trial. On that day the regular panel was exhausted without getting a jury, and a new venire of fifty was ordered, returnable on the 30th, at five o’clock in the afternoon, of which day the empaneling was completed and the trial commenced. The jury, which was composed of William Clear, Chris. Hulbe, Thomas Redmond, James Stutt, James Mulhern, T.H. Collins, Louis Peter, James Fagan, A.J. Edwards, J.S. Maybee, John Bustin, P.L. Bourne, found a verdict of murder in the first degree, and Monday, August 4th was set for passing sentence. On that date the death sentence was passed by the Court in the manner following: To the usual question, whether he had anything to say why sentence should not be pronounced upon him, he replied, no. The Court then said: It is ordered, adjudged and decreed that you, the defendant, Salvador, standing as you do, convicted by the verdict of the jury of murder in the first degree, for having feloniously willfully, premeditatedly, and with malice aforethought, killed and murdered Paul Rieger, in Marin county, State of California, on the 19th day of April, a.d., 1879, and are adjudged guilty of murder in the first degree, the judgment of the Court and sentence of the law is that you, Salvador, be committed to the custody of the Sheriff of the county of Marin, to be by him, said Sheriff, taken at a time to be appointed and named in a warrant to be issued in pursuance of this judgment to some place within the walls of the county jail in Marin county, or to some other convenient private place in said county of Marin, and that you there be hanged by the neck by said Sheriff until you are dead, and may Heaven have mercy on your soul. The warrant was forwarded to Sheriff Tunstead in due course, and Thursday, the 2nd of October, fixed for the execution, previous to the carrying out of which, he made a confession, so horrible in its details, that all crimes hitherto enacted on this coast pall before the atrocities of this fiend’s life. His first crime of note was the stabbing to death of his brother Cruz, at Nicasio, in 1860, during a quarrel. He was not arrested for this. The next murder committed was that of an Indian named José, who, Salvador says, threatened to kill him. He found this victim on Paper Mill creek, and stabbed him to death. The murder was never unraveled until Salvador confessed it. In 1866, Salvador killed an Indian called Whisky Bill, at Bodega, Sonoma county. This occurred in an attack made by Bill and some other Indians on his brother. In this case he was acquitted on the grounds of self-defence. In the same year he was arrested for the murder of McKeon on Tomales bay. His brother-in-law, José De Lazantos, and his own brother assisted him to evade arrest, and during the fight De Lazantos was killed by the officers, and his brother received wounds of which he died soon after. Salvador was shot seven times and at length arrested. He was sent to the penitentiary for seven years for the murder of McKeon, which affair he afterwards denied being implicated in. Shortly after his release he killed an unknown Indian with a knife in a quarrel in Sanel valley. This crime until his confession was also a mystery. In 1878 Salvador and a companion kicked a Chinaman to death on the North Pacific Coast Railroad, whom, he alleged, assaulted a squaw named Big Mary. This is the same that led Salvador’s pursuers off the scent after the murder of Rieger, enabling him to escape. Salvador’s sister once swore out a warrant at Nicasio for Salvador’s arrest for threats to kill her. His last devilish deed was committed while he was seeking protection from the rain under a tree. Rieger came in sight without seeing him, and he shot him dead. After the crime he remained in Marin county for several days, but, becoming alarmed, he left for San José, via Saucelito and Oakland, from which place he walked to his destination. In San José he stayed with José Salazar for three days, when he returned to Marin county, via Petaluma, on foot. On the 12th of May, after leaving Petaluma, he, from a high hill, saw Sheriff Tunstead and posse, who were searching for him. He then went to Sebastopol, near which place he was arrested as above described. Such is this chapter of horrors; let us wind up the dreary story with an account of his last moments of life: At eleven o’clock on the day appointed for the expiation of his manifold crimes, Mr. Rieger’s son and several others entered the cell of the condemned, who fell upon his knees before them, asking for their forgiveness. The gentlemen shook hands with him and left. Immediately thereafter he was taken into the cell occupied by his mother and sisters during the night. He embraced them all, standing the wailings of his mother without flinching. His mother then uttered a weird, wild prayer in the Indian dialect, and laid her hands upon the head of her son, who had sunk down upon his knees before the crouching figure of the old woman. At half-past twelve he partook with apparent relish of his last meal. Meanwhile the doors of the Court House had been barred and locked; those holding invitations to witness the execution were admitted by a small door in the fence. Thomas H. Estey then proceeded to adjust the rope, a three-quarter-inch whale-line, to the cross-beam, and everything being in readiness, the Sheriff, accompanied by his deputies, and the reporters of the press, proceeded to the cell of the condemned man. The reading of the death warrant produced no visible effect upon Salvador, who during the whole time held a small crucifix between his hands, without the slightest vibration. The march to the gallows was then taken, with Sheriffs Tunstead, and Dinwiddie, of Sonoma, at the head of the procession. Following them, with firm step, walked the culprit, between two Spanish padres in their robes of office, chanting the prayers for the dying. Under-Sheriff Gordon and Deputy Burtchaell followed. Several other Deputy Sheriffs brought up the rear. Arrived upon the scaffold, Salvador, with a desperate look downward upon the treacherous trap, took his position under the gibbet. To the question of the Sheriff, whether he had anything to state before he met his fate, he answered in a low voice: “I am thankful to you all, and especially to Sheriff Tunstead, for the kind treatment I have received. I know I have committed a terrible crime and am willing to give up my life for it.” The straps were then placed around the doomed man’s legs and arms, who, until then, stood up unflinchingly among the officers who surrounded him. But when Under-Sheriff Gordon adjusted the fatal noose around his neck, a slight tremor commenced to run through the limbs of the criminal. Sheriff Tunstead, without delay, slipped the black cap on his head, and stepping back, waved his handkerchief to Deputy Duncan. A light motion of the latter’s hand and precisely at twenty minutes past one in the afternoon of October 2, 1879, the heavy trap shot down, leaving the murderer of Paul Rieger suspended in mid-air.