KNAVE Sun, Jun 23, 1946 – Page 11 ·
Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) · Newspapers.com
IN PICKING up the article in which the California Folklore Quarterly explains the derivation of a number of place names familiar in California, the Knave is struck with the number which have origin in the East and in the Indian tribes who were there.
While it is natural enough for our pioneers to bring the names along with them, it does seem odd to find here reminders of tribesmen who have never been farther West than the Mississippi. Briefed, here are some more of the place name derivations as the Quarterly lists them: Wyandotte, south of Oroville. From the tribe Wyandot formerly called Huron. This name is more properly Wendat. Derived from the name which the different Iroquoian tribes making up the Huron Nation called one another. Attiwendaronk, "their speech is awry.” Obviously, they had difficulty in understanding one another. Cherokee Flat (now Altaville), Calaveras County. A tribe of the southern Appalachian region. From Tsalagi, the name by which they have been known since first visited by the white man. The name has no real meaning in their own language but may be derived from the Choctaw: chilluk and ki, "cave people." They were also called cave people by the Iroquois. Calistoga. A half Indian name. Cali from California and toga from Saratoga, the well-known watering place in New York. The last two syllables are apparently from Mohawk: oghnekanos, "water.”The Cherokee Sequoya
The most important Indian name from the East is that bestowed by Stephen Endlicher in 1847, when he named the redwoods Sequoia in honor of Sequoya, the Cherokee inventor of the Cherokee alphabet. He was born in the town of Tuskegee in eastern Tennessee, the son of a Cherokee woman and a white man, most probably Nathaniel Gist of Revolutionary fame since members of the Gist family recognized him as a relation. He was called George Gist and grew up without any education. He was a skillful hunter and also a natural mechanic and engaged in making silver ornaments for which there was a large demand among his tribesmen. Having met with an accident which made him a cripple for life, he had more time for his manufacture and engaged his cousin who could read and write to make him a name plate. The cousin made it to read "George Guess" and from that time he was known as Gist, Guess, or Guest. Sequoya had long seen the advantage possessed by the white man in being able to communicate by written characters. In 1809 he began work on an alphabet for his tribe. He secured an old spelling book and having no idea what sounds the characters stood for in English he took capitals, lower case, italics, and figures, using them right side up or inverted and applied them to about 35 sounds in Cherokee. He made about 12 more by modifying some of these and then invented enough more to make up a complete syllabary of 85 characters capable of expressing every sound in the Cherokee language. Using this invention, any one speaking the language could learn to read and write it in a few days. This is comparatively easy when one knows any language. For example, if one wanted to represent the "ah" sound by the character x, he would put down "x" and write "ah" after it and so on through. Sequoya could not do this but had to remember which character he was using for each of the 85 sounds. He worked 12 years in spite of much opposition and ridicule by members of the tribe. In 1821 he submitted his syllabary to a public test by the leading men of the Nation and they immediately recognized its value. In a few months thousands of previously ignorant Cherokee were able to read and write.
'George Guess'
Sequoya, the Folklore Quarterly tells us, never learned to speak English. He is the only man in history to conceive and perfect an alphabet or syllabary in its entirety. As a volunteer in the War of 1812; he took part in the Battle of Horseshoe Bend in 1814. His widow, Sally, was granted bounty land in 1855 because of his service. In these transactions with the Government he was known as George Guess. In 1818, he went to Arkansas to take the language to the members of the tribe who had crossed the Mississippi; he returned in 1822 and after 1823 made his home with a western band. When the main body of the tribe was removed, he was very helpful in bringing about an era of good feeling between the newcomers and the "Old Settlers" who resented the intrusion. Chief John Ross in a letter written January 12, 1832, addresses him as "Mr. George Gist." He was awarded a medal by the General Council of the Cherokee, inscribed thus: “Presented to George Gist by the General Council of the Cherokee Nation for his Ingenuity in the Invention of the Cherokee Alphabet 1825." In his latter years Sequoya visited many tribes seeking the elements for a common language and grammar. He made a trip to Mexico in search of a band of Cherokee who had left the homeland before the Revolution. According to the account of a Cherokee who accompanied him on this journey, they found the lost band near "San Franto" (San Fernando) in Tamaulipas Province, Mexico, and there Sequoya passed away in August, 1843. Most accounts say he was born about 1760, but the probabilities are that it was about 10 years later. It is not likely that he would have been taken as a volunteer in the War of 1812 at the age of 52 or over, nor is it likely that he would have undertaken the trip to Mexico at the age of 82, considering that much of the trip was made on foot, and that he was a cripple. As for the meaning of the name, the Cherokee form is Sikwayi and has been variously translated "He guessed it," referring to his invention; "My Own" so called by his mother when his father deserted her, after the fashion of squaw men; and "Whispering Leaves." Authority for these definitions does not appear, but to one who has listened to the voices in the tops of the sequoias -California's most distinctive and inspiring monument—"Whispering Leaves" is most appropriate.
Anza and Hayward Fault
Last week it was the privilege of The Knave to print a section of an interesting study of the Hayward Fault made by R. R. Stuart. Today, he continues to share his findings. “The Hayward Fault played a part in the earliest history of Alameda County," he writes. "It is our opinion that Anza and his men in 1776 traversed the low escarpment which parallels the fault from near Irvington to Niles. Font in his diary, as edited by Bolton, writes under date of March 31, 1776: 'After we had left the sloughs and taken the higher ground, we passed along the shores of a somewhat salty lagoon, which we left on our right and into which apparently flowed some arroyos from the canyons of the range of hills which we were following.' The 'salty lagoon' refers to the swampy pond into which Mission Creek debouches. It is probable that all the early Spanish explorers traveled the same route. We know that many of the pioneers built their homes on this embankment and not a few got a severe jolt on October 21, 1868. Joseph Shinn of Niles was a boy of seven at the time of the quake. It came at breakfast time, and since the father's house sat squarely on the fault, the whole family soon found themselves out of doors. For himself, he recalls that he hung to a small buckeye tree which grew near the house. After the quake was over, he recalls, there was a furrow as though freshly plowed clear across the farm and leading in a straight line to a lagoon, a half mile south of the road. They had been pretty badly shaken up, but otherwise no great damage was done to the well-built frame house in which Shinn lives today."
Virtues of an Earthquake
As the old saw has it, an earthquake, like an ill wind, it often is likely to have merit. In the case of the quake of 1868, it provided water. "As Anza and his men trudged up the east side of the Bay," Stuart continues, "night overtook them at Hayward, but there was then no town at that locality - simply a few Indian huts on the San Lorenzo Creek which the Spanish first called Arroyo de la Harina. It was here that they spent the night. George Helms, who has gone over every foot of the ground, is of the opinion that they made their camp at a spring which still flows in a small gulch at the north side of the Mattox Road at the base of the hills. If this was the case, they made their camp on the Hayward Fault and drank water which flowed from a spring of that fault. This matter of water is one of the most interesting things about the Hayward Fault. Not only did it furnish the site for a number of excellent reservoirs, but innumerable springs gush forth from the shattered pulverized rock which is found along this line. Probably the most interesting of all these springs is located at the County Prison Farm between Hayward and San Leandro. At an early time it provided sufficient water to run a grist mill and, in fact, it gave the name, Mill Farm, to the tract which is now county property. Helms told us the operation of the mill was carried on in somewhat intermittent manner. Water from the springs was collected in a reservoir. Then the mill was put in operation and continued to grind until the pond was empty. Our old maps of 1867 and 1874 show the mill, but the Alameda County Atlas of 1878 makes no mention of it. Later, an early nurseryman, J. Lewelling, bought the Mill Farm and piped the water to his home. Today the spring provides a water supply for the County Farm."
Horseshoe Hotel Opens
Virginia City, which is growing by leaps and a bounds and expects in time to regain its Comstock Days importance, is currently viewing with pardonable pride its Horseshoe Hotel, located in the old Comstock Building on C Street. In discussing the opening and the thought given the decoration by Mr. and Mrs. Andrew T. Swiderski, the Territorial Enterprise wrote recently: “A great deal of care and study has been used to make the hotel and its various allied departments conform as closely as possible to the period of the Victorian era when Virginia City was at the height of its fame. The lobby is decorated with wallpaper 50 years old, dug out of the basement of an old San Francisco store. The walls of other rooms have been covered with paper reproductions of a much earlier day. An old parlor organ, plate rails and their decorative plates of the period, what nots and ornaments of various types complete the decorative effect of 70 years ago." The Swiderskis also gave attention to the bar, even to the sign, “Check Your Guns Here.” They secured the chandelier from the Flood home in San Francisco. The hotel has 22 rooms, 10 of them for transients and all equipped with old time washbowls and pitchers.
Virginia City Vigilantes
Back in 1871 Virginia City found itself in a period of lawlessness so irritating that the Vigilantes, known as 601, were organized. They functioned for only a brief time but were enormously effective. Their first step was to execute Arthur Perkins Heffernan who had shot and killed a man "in cold blood." Their last official act was on July 18, 1871, when they hanged George B. Kirk, a notorious character who had been ordered to leave town and declined to accept the suggestion. According to Dan De Quille on the morning of Kirk's hanging, his body lay in an undertaking establishment when a stranger, observing a crowd around the door, paused and stared at the body lying in the coffin. “Man dead?” he inquired. "Yes, sir," answered the person questioned. Fidgeting a little the stranger tried again: "How did he die?" "Hung" was the laconic reply. "Suicide?" the stranger persisted. "No sir, he was hung by 601, the Vigilantes.” “What did they hang him for?" "He had been told to leave town, but came back.” The stranger hesitated a moment, then asked: “When a man has been told to leave town, can't he ever come back and stay?" "Yes sir" said the Virginia Citian. “Well," said the puzzled stranger, “then how is this?" "There he is," said the Virginia Citian. "He came back - and you can see he stayed."
Lake Tahoe's Background
Thousands upon thousands of tourists will visit Lake Tahoe this Summer, many of them seeing it for the first time, and few of them aware that for all its beauty and activity it is but a shell of its former self. Attention was called to the beginnings of Lake Tahoe in a recent issue of the Territorial Enterprise of Virginia City. “Fifty years ago, Lake Tahoe was surrounded by railroads and steamships, piled up and down its length all engaged in transporting lumber for the Virginia City mines, or in supplying the men who were cutting and shaping the lumber” the paper set forth. "Few people of today remember the intense activity of the Lake Tahoe lumbering industry with its flumes that shot huge logs to Carson City to be picked up there by the Virginia and Truckee Railway and transported thence to Virginia City. One of the few, and one of the best informed is Mrs. Rose Dodson of Carson City whose father, George W. Chubbuck, 'lumbered' the area from Glenbrook to Bijou and then virtually tossed aside land that now sells on a basis of almost gold dollars per inch.” Chubbuck came from Vineland, N.J., and settled at Zephyr Cove where he remained until 1885. He began with a wooden tramway built of six-by-six timbers, laid longitudinally on pole-like logs. The road started on a pier at Rowlands, now known as Bijou, but originally named for Thomas W. Rowlands who settled there in 1868 and owned all of what is now Al Tahoe where he established one of the earliest resorts on Lake Tahoe. The first power on what was known as the Lake Valley Railroad was teams of 10 oxen yoked together in pairs and a locomotive said to have been purchased from the Sutro Tunnel Company at Virginia City.
First Boats on Lake Tahoe
“The first boat to operate on Lake Tahoe,” the Territorial Enterprise continues, "was a sailboat which carried the mail and required a week to make the trip from place to place. Its skipper was Thomas Jackson. The first steamer was a wooden tug, 'H. G. Blasdel,' owned by Captain Pray, who had a mill on the south side of Glenbrook Bay. At about the same time the steamer 'Truckee' was built at Rowlands and used to tow logs. The first passenger steamer, the 'Governor Stanford,' was built and operated by Capt. J. A. Todman of Carson City. She was a side-wheeler with an upper deck and was able to make the trip around the lake in one day.” From that time on various other craft appeared on the lake. The Governor Stanford was beached in time but served a purpose until 1942, her boiler being used to provide heat for cottages at Glenbrook Inn and Ranch. In 1896 a veritable leviathan of the waters slid into the as lake. It was the "Tahoe," a twin screw steel steamer built by the Union Iron Works in San Francisco and shipped to Glenbrook in sections. "Its boiler, shipped in one piece," the Territorial Enterprise continues, "gave a world of trouble to those who had to transport it from Carson co City to Glenbrook. The ship had a length of 170 feet and a speed of 18 1/2 knots." These old lake steamers were often used for motion pictures. One of the first films to be made on this location was “The Confession” with the late Henry B. Walthall; one of the most recent was “Rose Marie” with Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy.
Honesty in Jacksonville
Eph L. Musick writes from Decoto of a recent experience he had in Jacksonville, Ore., indicạting that man if not the times is improving with age, especially in the homely virtues. "On a visit to old Jacktown, a few days ago, there happened an incident that will give your readers a dash of ghost town life. Accompanied by my wife and her sister, Mrs. L. O. Howard of Medford, I drove to Jacksonville. We parked our car in front of the United States Hotel, erected in 1880 and now used as a museum principally. After viewing various things of interest in the museum, we were directed by the woman in charge to the upper floor. At the top of a dusty stairway, we entered a dance hall that had an aspect of modern use. Except for two signs, 'No Smoking While Dancing,' which hung from the two side walls, the hall was not unusual. As I left the hall, I walked over to a small stand or table that had been used for collections at the door. First, some Chamber of Commerce cards caught my fancy, and then I noticed a cigar box thereon. Its heft induced me to lift its cover and within I saw a roll of bills and a sackful of rolled coins of various denominations. I returned to the museum and reported the 'find' to the woman, who reported that the man in charge of the hall was in back of the hotel. There I found a giant, piling wood. He named still another man who should know something about the money. Returning to the front of the building, I saw two men perched on a window casing. They informed me that the man sought had probably left the box of change while arranging the hall for a dance that evening. I had signed the museum register, I had handled the money, and I did not care to leave the town until I could secure a clean bill of health from the absent custodian. Finally he emerged from a building across the street. When I accosted him and suggested that he had been careless, he was no more excited than were the others. Very coolly he replied, 'We are all honest in this town.' With my recollections of a different Jacksonville dating back more than 60 years, I drove out of town over the old stage road used in the early 1850's.”
Those Screaming Panthers
Several years ago Sid Snow and Eph L. Musick engaged in a considerable argument in these columns over the matter of whether or not panthers scream. To all intents and purposes, Snow won the debate, but Musick is not a fellow to accept defeat. He was satisfied that his friend Bill George of Kerby, Ore., could bear witness to his claim and on a recent visit to the State, he made it a point to search out Kerby and get substantiation. "Without a moment's hesitation," Musick writes, "he replied, 'Yes, I have heard panthers scream. I recall one time when I pitched my camp while out prospecting. There were two panthers near, one on each side of me. They kept up their screams for hours. The screaming was like that of a woman in terror.' To have doubted that sincere man's statement would have been like questioning that two and two make four. Bill told me another thing that I had never heard before about panthers. He stated that a panther, after having made a kill and eaten, was prone to climb the nearest tree when attacked, while, on the other hand, if it were not hungry it would lead its pursuers for miles before taking to a tree." All of which sounds very practical, since anyone, even a panther, is aware of the difficulty of proceeding for miles on a full stomach. As to the screaming, perhaps it is only Oregon panthers that go in for that sport. Snow will undoubtedly have something to say about it before long.
Relics of Historian
Leslie J. Freeman of San Leandro is the purchasing recipient of over 30 old cuts of various sizes that he obtained from the owner, Miss Lilly Davis, daughter of William Heath Davis and whose grandfather was Jose Joaquin Estudillo. The cuts were discovered in an old wooden box in the basement of Miss Davis' home at 361 Estudillo Avenue. Most of the cuts are considered to be over 50 years old, some being made from a special cast zinc, while others are smooth copper plates of exquisite workmanship. They were made at the request of California's historian, Mr. Davis, for a history book he was writing when the earthquake and fire in San Francisco destroyed his script. The cuts at the time were in the possession of his daughter, Miss Davis of San Leandro. Miss Davis has just passed her 85th birthday and enjoys a good sense of humor and loves to reminisce on the old days of San Leandro, when her father and mother resided in San Leandro. She related to Freeman the following story: "Shortly after the wedding of William Heath Davis to one of Estudillo's daughters, the Davis family resided on a large farm on Davis Street, about one mile below East Fourteenth Street, where Davis caused to be built a large two-story frame building of English architecture, with windmill, stables, servants' quarters, etc. Davis being a wealthy man, entertained lavishly. He was well respected by all the influential people of California. It was in this home that Miss Lilly Davis was born. On the morning of October 21, 1868 their home was completely destroyed by a severe earthquake and her father and eight children escaped injury. The family was then taken to the home of her grandparents, the Estudillos, at 1291 Carpentier Street, where the home is still standing as a relic of the early days of the Dons. Mr. Davis employed several Indian servants and one Negro, who married one of the Indian girls and as a result of this union, three children were born, two girls and a boy, of whom one of the girls continued as a servant. Shortly after the 1868 earthquake, Mr. Davis sold his farm to John Mathews, who successfully operated the farm for several years, raising potatoes, grain and tomatoes. The family next moved to San Francisco, where Mr. Davis wrote his second history book, the first being titled "Sixty Years in California," the second, "Seventy-five Years in California,” which is today used as an accurate reference book by students on California. Davis was writing his third manuscript when the San Francisco fire of 1906 destroyed it and now it is Freeman's intention to use several of his old cuts and copper plates in his new book soon to be published entitled "Alameda County-Past and Present."
Clayton Rancho
Perhaps Knave readers who have helped many a writer to assemble material for stories of old California may be of assistance to Helen L. Atkinson, who is compiling some pioneer family history. She tells me: "Several of your Sunday stories have helped me in respect to period history and family contemporaries. In 1847 and 1850 my great-grandfather and great-grandmother crossed the Isthmus (with Fremont) and settled at the "Crossroads" in Yuba County (Clayton Rancho at the Crossroads). It is shown on Yuba County maps and I have a lithograph print of it showing Great-grandfather Clayton's general merchandise store, with surrounding barns, orchards, forests, horse teams drawing kegs and caskets, and even bustled ladies playing croquet (one of them probably Great-grandma Joanna Bruce Clayton). At the same time, Great-uncle Benjamin Buckelew (my grandmother's surname) was the 1847 editor of the Alta California in San Francisco, having purchased the paper from Robert Semple, the first editor, on his early Monterey Press. I have much material on Uncle Benjamin, but not as much on the Clayton Rancho, nor the years spent on this rancho by my Great-great-grandfather Clayton, and Great-grandfather Will Buckelew.” Surely there is a family chronicle which should be complete. Those who can help may send material to me or to Helen L. Atkinson, 44 Los Dedos Road, Orinda, Calif.
The Golden Gate Theater
Another old playbill has been exhumed detailing the virtues of entertainment available at the Golden Gate Theater, which was one of Oakland's first night clubs operating in Eighth Street between Washington and Broadway in the 1880's, a beer hall, no less. Unfortunately, the herald is not dated but its material is nonetheless interesting. William Peru was the manager and he was ecstatic because he had secured the services of “3 More New Stars 3.” Apparently they were Prof. B. Knudson, who was making his first appearance in California and was rated as "The Neatest Illusionist Living"; William Harrison and Robert Hart, musical artists, who were also making their Oakland debut in "Fun in a Music Store," during which they played the banjo, guitar, violin, zither, zylophone, (sic), bells, blow accordion, mandolin, whistle and metalphone; Gallagher and West, "The Supreme Monarchs of Ethiopian and Eccentric Comedy"; the Grey Sisters, Hattie and Lillie, who were introducing their "Challenge Double Jig”; William Mitchell, “The King of Comedy," and Claudie Lorraine, who promised to be a "Great Success of the Refined Extemporaneous, Motton and Sentimental Vocalist and Male Impersonator,” a routine that seems to cover a lot of ground. Small wonder that Manager Peru asserted without fear of contradiction that this was the "finest bill ever produced in Oakland."
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