Knave - Christmas in '49 - 'Cycling in the 1890s - Second Capitol - Hello and Goodbye - William E. P. Hartnell - California By Chance - Senorita Teresa - Oakland Tribune - Sunday, December 27, 1959
I'm leaving out the first few paragraphs, which deal with current politics, and moving right to the histories and stories. Click the clipping below if you want to read what you missed, here.
Christmas in '49
The Knave: While we spend this Christmas season in our California homes amid fir trees, greens, bright lights and shiny ornaments, or join jolly revelers at play, it should be remembered that it was different in the winter of 1849. Then thousands of lonely men and boys along the Sierra foothills holed up in shacks, or dugouts, and tried to keep dry and warm. One such miner in Eldorado, then known as Mud Springs, was caught at Christmas time in his brush shelter built against a high bank. He could not work his mine, there was nowhere to go, and nothing to read. All he could do for weeks was to sit in his shack or lie in his damp bed and listen to the drip, drip, drip of the rain. He thought it would drive him crazy. Joseph Goldsborough Bruff, 49er, in his huge journal, tells the story of a great storm that trapped him and many other wagonloads of travelers on a high ridge between the Yuba and Feather Rivers at Christmas time. Snow piled deep around them, so none could move. A few men left their wagons and fought their way down to the valley. In some wagons were several children. Bruff and his friend, Poyle, built a temporary shack, cut some wood from a wagon bed and started a big fire. From the snow banks they cut meat from frozen oxen, adding the body or a squirrel they had killed. and stewed this slowly for hours, "adding three deer leg bones cracked for the marrow and a gill of mustard seed, pepper and salt. Made plenty of strong coffee."Then Poyle said, "May we not have some sort of a Christmas... each sing a song and tell a story." So passed the day. But all did not fare so well, and it was a miserable day for the children. Such weather continued for weeks and many perished in the cold before help could reach them. One famous Bret Harte story is the one called "How Santa Clause Came to Simpson's Bar." In words of sheer beauty and eloquent appeal he described Simpson's Bar: "And farther on, cut off and inaccessible, rained upon and bedraggled, smitten by high winds and threatened by high water, Simpson's Bar, on the eve of Christmas Day, 1862, clung like a swallow's nest to the rocky entablature and splintered capitals of Table Mountain, and shook in the blast." Harte moved on to describe the mining camp and its population of odd characters, among them a storekeeper and his little son. It was Christmas Eve and the revelers toward midnight were reminded of the sad fate of the little sick lad without a Christmas gift. One of them mounted a swift steed, dashed through storm and... high water to a distant town, purchased a few "tricks" and barely made it back to camp by dawn. Harte concludes the story: "And even so, bedraggled, ragged, unshaven and unshorn, with one arm hanging helpless at his side, Santa Claus came to Simpson's Bar..."
'Cycling in the 1890s
A bicyclist of the 1890s could easily determine his rate of mileage per hour by using a cyclometer. All he had to do was check his cyclometer for five minutes and then multiply the distance traveled by 12. This we learn from the "Touring Guide and Road Book" published in 1898 at the direction of the California Associated Cycling Clubs, a copy of which comes to us from Tribune Photographer Russ Reed, who in turn inherited it from his late uncle, Bill Kelly of Oakland. The editors of the guide book were aware, however, that not all bicyclists had cyclometers. "It is always a satisfaction sometimes a necessity, to determine the rate of going by the rhythm of the stroke," they noted. "With a little practice a rider may determine for himself, without the aid of a cyclometer, the pace at which he is riding. Count the strokes per minute as each knee rises, divide that by 2 and the result is the number of revolutions of the crank; the gear of the wheel multiplied by 3 gives approximately in inches the distance measured on the ground by one revolution of the crank; multiply the distance measured on the ground by the number of strokes made per minute, divide by 12 and the result is the distance in feet traveled per minute. To find the rate of miles per hour multiply that result by 60, to obtain the number of feet traveled per hour, and divide the result by 5,280." The Einstein who tried that certainly wasn't having much conversation with the gal who was looking sweet "upon the seat, of a bicycle built for two." Wheel facts worth knowing included such items as: A lamp frequently smokes because it is not perpendicular and the flame touches the reflector. If the wick is saturated with vinegar and then dried before being used it will be less likely to smoke. The wick should never be cut; the charred end should be rubbed smooth with a cloth. A piece of camphor added to kerosene oil will brighten the flame and give a whiter light; a teaspoon of salt will answer the same purpose. The light should be turned low when not in use; a flame which would burn brightly when the wheel is in motion will sometimes smoke when the motion ceases and the air pressure is decreased... The fundamental principle in the care of the chain is to keep the inside of the links clean and moist and the outside dry....
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| This was California's Capitol building at Vallejo (1852-53), the second after our state was accepted into the Union. |
Second Capitol
It was on Christmas night in 1851 that the lights first glowed from the new State Capitol Building in Vallejo. It was the night of the "grand Christmas ball," a fete planned in celebration of the capture of the State capital by the newly sprouted village of Vallejo from rip-snorting San Jose. The Legislature would not meet there for another two weeks or so - an event of Jan. 5, 1852. How could these zealous Christmas celebrants suspect at such an hour that their joy would be so short lived. The important thing of the moment was to hold one of Gen. Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo's invitations: "A grand Christmas ball will be given at Vallejo on the evening of the 25th instant, in the Senate and Assembly chambers of the new State Capitol, on which occasion the Hon. Isaac E. Holmes will address the ladies and gentlemen at 7 1⁄2 o'clock," the invite glowed. "The pleasure of your company is respectfully requested." And now the time had arrived. All the "first families" of Vallejo were on hand, as were the military and civil officials of the state. Capt. John Frisbie headed the Red Rose Committee of Arrangements, while the Hon. Isaac E. Holmes was chairman of the Blue Rose Committee of Reception. The White Rose Ballroom Committee necessitated co-chairman. In the Senate chamber it was headed by Gen. S. M. Miles, and in the assembly it was Dr. Dierly of the U.S. Navy. As part of the preparation for the celebration the outside of the Capitol Building was given coats of yellow wash, a treatment that produced what was described as an "orangeade" effect.
Hello and Goodbye
California's first Legislature had opened at San Jose on Dec. 15, 1849, and was still in session on April 3, 1850, when General Vallejo made the munificent proposal to lay out a city on Carquinez Straits with 156 acres of land for state buildings, and donate within two years $370,000 for erection of such buildings. Although a general election on Oct. 7, 1850, saw Vallejo voted the new capitol, the opening of the second legislative session took place in San Jose early in 1851. General Vallejo and friends immediately exerted themselves to consummate the change. The battle was on. San Jose residents offered $406,000 worth of land. But Vallejo won the debate by promising faithfully to carry out the terms of his offer. By June of 1851 the state's books were in Vallejo, but General Vallejo was slow in performing his part of the contract. September came and the new Capitol, building was by no means complete. It wasn't even completely finished at the time of the big Christmas ball on Dec. 25, 1851. Five days later (Dec. 30, 1851), the Legislature met in San Francisco to consult on a place for their next session. When it was pointed out that Vallejo was the legal seat of government they agreed and opened the third session of the Legislature there on Jan. 5, 1852. Sacramento had slipped a bid in for the Capitol on Dec. 29, 1851, and on the opening day of the Legislature at Vallejo on Jan. 5 San Francisco forwarded a bid. San Jose again entered the contest, and Benicia, too, had a voice. Already the legislators were unhappy in Vallejo. Nevertheless they held to Vallejo until the time for the meeting of the 1853 Legislature approached. Terms of General Vallejo's contract were still unfulfilled. On Feb. 4, 1853, the assembly resolved to adjourn to meet at Benicia on Feb. 11. Vallejo lost the Legislature and the town's population dropped below 100. After removal of the government activities from the old Capitol Building, it remained standing on the hilltop until 1859. Most of the time it was used by farmers as a storage place for hay. The basement had been designed originally as a billiard hall, but was later divided into small apartment for living quarters. A fire started in one of the apartments in June of 1859, spread to the hay, and the entire building was destroyed in a matter of minutes. Approximately 21 years ago the Native Sons and Daughters of the Golden West marked the site of the old capitol with a bronze marker.
William E. P. Hartnell
When Susannah Bryant Dakin wrote the biography of William Hartnell, published in 1949 by Stanford University Press, she gave it the rather enigmatical title, "The Lives of William Hartnell." "But," says Dr. Rockwell D. Hunt, "she early explained that here was a very early California pioneer who had seven separate careers: scholar, trader, rancher, teacher, politician, peacemaker, diplomat. All these things in as many different countries. He operated in England, Germany, Chile, Peru, Sandwich Islands, and California, in the Russian area under Mexico and at the time of the American conquest. By no means everywhere, or in any of his many careers, with his many accomplishments, did he have any marked financial success. Indeed, I find it difficult even to attempt appraisal of his total life, or to assign to him a fitting place in California history. It would be easy to yield to sympathy for a talented man who received so many disconcerting rebuffs from so many sources. On the other hand, I might close my eyes to the genuinely fine traits of character that he revealed, especially during the more mature years of his life; utterly failing to appreciate his high motivation and sterling traits of character. His particular besetting weakness which kept him from becoming a shining light in the Mexican years of California's history I will make no attempt to define. He was born in Lancashire, England, in 1798, in an orthodox Church-of-England family. He died a devout Catholic in 1854. During all his strange life a striking characteristic was that of the student-scholar type. His early studies in Germany naturally contributed to his unusual linguistic ability. Later, in California, I think it doubtful if his equal as an interpreter could be found in the province. He was an English gentleman, yet by temperament he was largely of Latin type.
California By Chance
"Unemployment days in England were in part responsible for his leaving home as a young man and his varied experiences in South America at a time when new nations were being formed," continues Dr. Hunt. "He was in Buenos Aires, Santiago, and Valparaiso where he gained experience as bookkeeper and buyer and a fluent use of Spanish. Unfortunately, I think, he became a heavy drinker at times, which proved a serious handicap for years. How he became a trader, shipped north on the John Beggs in 1822, then became a Californian as much at home here as the Dons themselves, is all told in Susannah Dakin's book. It is a fascinating if somewhat melancholy story with which most of us show too little familiarity. Early California's small population included an unusually large proportion of unique characters; immigrant personalities that could not quite be duplicated elsewhere. I would be hard put to find another William Hartnell. While his disposition craved serenity, fate decreed for most his years the life of an adventurer and trader, for which he had no special aptitude; then a diplomat of a sort, where his forthrightness sometimes seemed a handicap, and at length a ranchero, where he sought repose but found himself drawn hither and thither in the midst of turbulent scenes in the turmoil of petty politics and small caliber revolutions. In none of his callings did he prosper. Most of the time he was plagued by personal debts.
Senorita Teresa
"When Hartnell first met Senorita Teresa in 1822, eldest daughter of Don Jose de la Guerra y Noriega, she was only 13 years old. Her father was one of the wealthiest, most highly cultivated and influential men of all California. His home at Santa Barbara was the center of the most gracious hospitality. Teresa 'acquired the manners of a noblewoman.' Her marriage at 16 to Hartnell, then 27, prominent 'hija del pais,' was a most notable event of the year. What a Fiesta! Days of preliminaries to the wedding, deeply religious ceremonies, hours of prayer in the church, and finally unrestrained expression of mirth by the singing of popular songs. That the union proved fruitful is attested by the fact that within 11 years Senora Hartnell had become a well-known, gracious hostess, mother of nine sons and daughters. She maintained a wonderful spirit in the hospitable home. 'La Casa Arneli' was widely recognized as one of California's leading centers of culture and refinement. When Hartnell took to ranching as a naturalized Mexican citizen, having been thoroughly converted to Catholicism, he found life more to his personal taste as the owner of Alisal Rancho. But he did not prosper. Another of Hartnell's many ventures was the establishment of a school for higher studies, sometimes referred to as California's first college although it by no means measured up to a college in our modern sense. Subjects for study included languages (Spanish, French, English, German, Latin), arithmetic, bookkeeping, mathematics, philosophy, and Christian doctrine. A source of needed income the school was a failure, the enrollment distressingly low. The closing of the 'colegio' was announced in 1836. A century later his name, quite appropriately, was given the Salinas Junior College. Much of Hartnell's best work is seen in his ability as interpreter and translator. Senor Osio reported that he spoke five languages idiomatically and in educated manner, among them French. Though never a real American he was interpreter at the Monterey Constitutional Convention. Then he retired to Alisal to translate the code of laws enacted by the delegates from English into Spanish, a conspicuous civic service. But never again did he enter into the new life of the Minerva State of California. Even at the time of his death (Feb. 2, 1854) he had come to belong to the past, not the stirring future. Nevertheless he must always be regarded as an important figure in the history of California," Dr. Hunt concludes.
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