Chapters 1-4
Early Days at the Mission San Juan Bautista - Chapters I-IV
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CHAPTER I
The author's arrival in California--The stay at Vallecitos--Removal to
Shaw's Flat--Family treks south--After reaching the Salinas river returns
to San Juan.
MY PARENTS crossed the plains in a covered wagon, drawn by three yoke of
oxen, in 1852. We arrived in California about the first of October of that
year. It took five months to make the trip. There were about sixty
immigrants in the train. The trip across the country was uneventful,
devoid of any excitement except that one of the immigrants died of
cholera. Luckily, the disease did not spread among the rest of the
immigrants, and we were spared the usual horror that accompanies an
epidemic of that nature.
We crossed the Sierras and, descending into California, my parents stopped
at Vallecitos, Calaveras county, after passing through Placerville (at
that time known as "Hangtown"). "Hangtown," as it was then known, was the
abiding place of Studebaker; in after years, the millionaire manufacturer
of the Studebaker wagons and buggies, and finally the celebrated
Studebaker automobile. Studebaker, while living in Placerville, conducted
a blacksmith shop and made a large sum of money constructing wheel-barrows
as a side line. These wheel-barrows were purchased by miners to be used in
mining operations.
At the time that my parents stopped at Vallecitos, I was nearly five years
of age. Our stay in Vallecitos was marked by two incidents which still
stand out clearly in my mind. One was the serious illness of my dear
mother who fell quite ill after the long journey across the plains. The
other incident was my embarking in the poultry-raising business.
My father showed me how to look in the crevices of the bedrock for gold. I
would look along the little ravines close
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to the cabin where we lived and would find small nuggets wedged in these
crevices. Perhaps there had been dozens who had gone over the same ground
and picked up the larger pieces. Those I got ranged from five to fifty
cents in value. One weighed two dollars and fifty cents. I would take
these and put them in a little gourd at the head of my mother's bed. One
of the neighboring miners had a hen and five small chicks and I greatly
coveted them. He asked ten dollars for the lot; mother said, "Father will
weigh your gold at noon and if you have enough you can buy them." When I
poured it on the scales father laughed and said, "You're a pretty good
miner." I had nearly fifteen dollars. He weighed out enough for ten
dollars, (most of the miners had gold scales in those days), and I bought
the hen and chicks. Father fixed up a coop back of the cabin for the hen
and her chicks. I was up early the next morning to attend to my chickens,
but, great grief, a fox had taken the lot. It was a hard blow for me.
I will always remember how I went broke in the chicken business.
After stopping a short time at Vallecitos my parents moved to Shaw's Flat,
Tuolumne county--between Sonora and Columbia, on the "Mother Lode."
Here my sister was born on the side of Table Mountain, on Feb. 22, 1855.
She afterwards married Wm. Allyn and is now residing in Oakland.
For nearly three years my father mined, with varying success, at Shaw's
Flat. Looking back over that period I recall that at the same time that my
father was mining there, so was a hard-working energetic young miner known
as Jim Fair, afterwards Senator James Fair; the man who built the Fair
fortune and often boasted that he "never would be traced by the quarters
that he dropped!" At the time when Fair and my father were mining there
they were engaged in working on a channel that was about a rod wide and
some sixteen to eighteen feet deep. This channel ran into Table Mountain,
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the mountain afterwards celebrated by Mark Twain in his story. "The
Jumping Frog of Calaveras," when Mark was living with Steve Gillis, on the
"Mother Lode." Both Fair and my father owned separate claims although they
were working on the same channel. Under the law a claim was limited to one
hundred feet in length. Right above my father's claim was another claim
operated by a man by the name of Caldwell. Out of his one hundred feet he
took $75,000 worth of gold. The gravel from Caldwell's mine was hoisted to
the surface by means of a windlass and then run through a Long Tom. I
remember, one night, seeing them weigh the day's receipts and they had
thirteen pounds of gold. The magnitude of this take may be judged from the
fact that the gold taken from Table Mountain averaged nearly pure gold,
and, if taken to the mint, commanded $19.50 per ounce, making the "take"
for the day about $3,000. On my father's claim it averaged about $5,000 to
the hundred feet but Caldwell struck a rich rough ledge--in fact everyone
on the channel made big money.
During our stay there I attended a public school that was located at
Springfield, between Shaw's Flat and Columbia. Columbia, Tuolumne county,
at that time, contained a population of something like 15,000 souls. Its
importance may be judged from the fact that it reached for the location of
the state capital at one time, and its chances were considered good. It is
now one of the "Ghost Cities" of the "Mother Lode" and contains about
twenty inhabitants.
After mining at Shaw's Flat my parents moved south through Livermore Pass
and entering upon "El Camino Real" (The King's Highway) proceeded through,
what was then known as the Mission of San Jose, in Alameda County, and
traveling southward through San Jose, past the Mission of Santa Clara. San
Jose, then, was a mere hamlet of no importance whatever. Wending our way
southward my parents passed through the Mission San Juan Bautista and
crossed over San Juan hill--there was no grade there at that time, and
descended into what was then known as the
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"Salinas plains"--now called the Salinas Valley. The Salinas Valley, at
that time, was covered with a wild growth of timber and heavy crops of
mustard and tenanted by droves of antelope and other game.
There were, even at that early date, a few houses at Natividad, where had
occurred the celebrated "Battle of Natividad" between the Mexicans and
gringos.
"The Battle of Natividad," which occurred in December, 1846, was between a
detachment of men commanded by a Captain Foster and a force sent after
them by Governor Pico from Monterey. Foster's detachment were United
States soldiers and were engaged in bringing a band of horses from the
North to Los Angeles. Pico's detachment was sent to not only stop the
soldiers from passing through, but to capture the horses. The horses were
run into a narrow canyon somewhere, I think, over on the Alisal. The
scrimmage was short and sanguinary as Captain Foster was killed as were
also eleven of his men. I don't know how many were killed on the Mexican
side but undoubtedly they paid dearly for their temerity in attacking the
Americans. It was said afterwards that this engagement was the only fight
ever known in which the Mexicans got the best of the Americans. However,
the Mexicans did not succeed in their attempt to capture the band of
horses.
We camped on the bank of the Salinas river that afternoon and awaited the
return of my father, who, struck by the business activity and picturesque
location of San Juan, had retraced his steps to that town. Finding some
families, who were anxious to return to Carson, Nevada, he bought one
hundred and sixty acres which they had taken up. This land was located
about one mile south of town, adjoining the John Breen tract. The land
bought was well fenced and contained a two-story frame structure which had
been erected in 1852. The house was well built and there was not a piece
of sawed wood in it, all the lumber being split stuff, even to the floor,
and planed by hand.
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As soon as my father consummated this transaction our family traveled back
to San Juan. My mother was delighted with the location of our new home and
said that she never wanted to leave it. She never did. She lived there
eleven years before she died.
The loss of my mother was a great misfortune to all of us, and we grieved
over her passing away for a long time. To me, she embodied all that was
charming, beautiful and lovable. My father, who was inclined to travel
greatly--in fact was afflicted with the wanderlust, missed her sorely, and
for a time it seemed as though our home might be broken up if our father
took to the road again in search of fresh fields and pastures new.
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[image caption: View of Fremont's Peak, the highest landmark in the
Gabilan range, to which point John C. Fremont retreated from the Mexican
forces.]
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CHAPTER II
The Mission Bells that filled the vale with melody--Secularization of the
Missions by the Mexican Government--The little Mission cemetery wherein
thousands were buried
AT SAN JUAN, in the shadow of the old mission church--built there in 1797,
I grew to manhood. The Angelus bells rang out, sending their silvery tones
over the peaceful valley each morning, noon and evening, and I remember we
would set our watches by the mission bells. It was solar time that was
given to us. The Padres, or their assistants, took the time by a large sun-
dial that was in the mission yard. The bells, also, rang out at eight
o'clock, each evening, serving as a notice for everyone to retire for the
night; this latter signal was intended for the Indians, whose welfare was
looked after closely by the mission fathers. The six o'clock Angelus bell
was a notification for them to prepare and eat their evening meal. The
eight o'clock bell was for them to retire, as they were not allowed to
roam around at night. When we came to San Juan the mission boasted of
three bells attached to a long beam which was supported about ten feet
from the ground by two immense posts, sunk in the ground, and these bells
were located about thirty feet from the front of the church door. The
stroke was made by a piece of rawhide being attached to each clapper (or
bell tongue). They were a fine set of bells; at times, according to the
temperature, silvery and then apparently golden in tone. They could be
heard from six to seven miles--yes, even over to the sheep ranch owned by
Mr. Hollister, now the site of the flourishing county seat of San Benito
county. Ah! many a time those silvery-sounding bells, which linger yet in
memory's recollection, warned me to hurry home for meals. In due time, by
some means or another, two of these beautiful bells were cracked and the
mission fathers had them recast. I do not know where the fathers sent them
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to be recast; probably in Mexico. On their return the bells were encased
in a belfry, which was located in the side of the church. Probably the old
bells resented this belfry, for, somehow or another, they never again gave
forth the silvery tones that were so charming in the days gone by. It was
alleged that the old bells contained a large portion of silver which made
them give forth the silvery tones in the past and that whoever recast them
took away from the molten metal a large porportion of the silver--in fact,
stole it--and replaced the silver with some other metal. Be that as it
may, to my mind, the bells never again were the same. Superstition alleged
that the bells felt ill at ease in this belfry, that they were not the
same in tone--apparently out of tune in their new environment.
In 1845 San Juan was declared a pueblo by Governor Pico, and it was either
in that year or the following year, if I remember aright, that the Mexican
government secularized the missions. In other words, their wealth, growth
and prosperity excited the cupidity and avarice of the officials, then
ruling Mexico, and they took from the missions, the greater portion of
their holdings, in fact, some of the missions' rich land-holdings were
sold to covetous purchasers. It was a dreadful blow to the missions and
also to the Indians who had been so carefully cared for by the mission
fathers. It was a blow from which the missions never recovered.
When the secularization of the missions by the Mexican government took
place the lands of the various missions were sold to different buyers.
Here are some of the sales that were made: the lands belonging to the
Mission San Diego were sold to Santiago Arguello, June 8, 1846; those
belonging to San Luis Rey sold to Antonio Cot and Andreas Pico, May, 1846;
San Juan Capistrano, was left a pueblo and the remainder of the land sold
to John Foster and Jas. McKinley, December, 1845; San Gabriel Mission was
sold to John Workman and Hugo Reid, June, 1846; San Fernando Mission was
sold to Juan Celis, June, 1846; San Buena Ventura was sold to Joseph
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Anzar; La Purissima was sold to John Temple, Dec., 1845; Soledad, house
and garden to Soberanos, January, 1846.
The missions San Juan Bautista, San Juan Capistrano, San Francisco and
Carmel were named as pueblos. There is no record of any of the lands being
taken away from these pueblo missions and sold by Governor Pico, under
whose regime all these sales were consummated.
At the time that we came to San Juan a large portion of the holdings of
the San Juan Mission had passed from the control of the mission fathers,
how much I do not know; I was too young, at that time, to realize the
grave injustice that had been done to the missions and Indians, but I
remember that the Mission San Juan Bautista had a magnificent orchard on
the bottom-land adjoining our place. This orchard, which embraced thirty-
six acres, was planted to grapes and pears and there was in it, I
remember, one apple and one peach tree also several large olive trees that
yielded fine crops of olives. This orchard, instead of being fenced in,
was surrounded by a ditch some ten to twelve feet deep and about five feet
wide, which was intended to keep cattle out and was, for that purpose,
effectual. Traces of this ditch still can be seen. There was another
orchard of ten acres down the hill to the flat, which was planted to pears
and some apples. This orchard was surrounded by a deep ditch. There were,
in this orchard, pear trees one hundred years old; great big, massive
trees, bearing luscious pears. Some of these trees were sixty to seventy
feet high. I remember them well, for often did I climb over the brush
fence to pick the pears off the ground and eat until I could eat no more.
Back of the mission church, today there is an enclosed place which was the
original burial ground connected with the mission. At the present time it
possesses some of the finest olive trees on the Pacific coast. In this
small enclosure are buried a large number of Indians, some say up into the
thousands. An explanation of this may be found in the fact that this small
enclosed space was the only consecrated ground
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connected with the mission, and was originally consecrated by one of the
bishops, who came from Mexico. As the little space filled it was found
impossible to get another bishop to come from Mexico and it was against
the rules of the church to be buried outside of consecrated ground.
Consequently, the little enclosure today is packed with the bones of a
multitude of Indian adherents of the Catholic church. I remember seeing
them bury some of those Indians. They would dig the grave and in digging
the grave they found it necessary to remove the bones of some former
Indian who was buried close by the grave or possibly interred in the
grave. These bones were tenderly and reverently resurrected and placed
alongside the new grave and then, when the coffin or body was laid in its
earthen receptacle, the bones were carefully replaced alongside the person
buried. Now adays, of course, imagination has run riot over early episodes
in San Juan and I have heard it asserted, as a fact, that upwards of four
to six thousand bodies were buried in that small enclosure. I cannot say
that this is true. I do not know; but I know that a great many bodies were
interred there.
The little frame school house that I attended when a boy is still standing
on its original site near the cemetery on the road to "The Rocks."
Speaking of the cemetery, reminds me that in the early days, Manuel Larios
was the owner of what was then known as the Rancho San Antonio. Don Larios
deeded to the people of San Juan the present cemetery grounds on the road,
and with that courtesy that betokens the true Castilian gentleman, divided
the tract into two parts, one for a Catholic cemetery, the other a
Protestant cemetery.
Those cemeteries now contain the pioneers of the old Mission San Juan
Bautista. A pathetic incident in connection with that cemetery is that
when the estimable Don deeded the ground for the cemetery he reserved for
his family a piece of ground fronting on the road. It could be easily
distinguished years ago and may be distinguished now, for all I know, by a
barbed wire fence that cuts it off from the rest of the cemetery.
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This barbed wire fence, it is said, was put around the grave of the donor
of the cemetery grounds for an infraction of the rules and regulations
governing the cemetery.
Boy-like, when my parents first moved to San Juan, I was timid and afraid
of the black-robed padres that governed the mission. They were a new
species of beings to me. I was very anxious to see the interior of the old
mission but I was afraid one of those friars might grab me. Friars were
mysterious objects to me. One day when I was running around bare-footed
and passing along the corridor alongside of the church I peeked through
one of the windows to see what those strange men were doing. It must be
remembered that, at the time, the padres lived in that long building that
fronts the plaza, adjoining the mission church. Whilst engaged in peeking
through the window, to my dismay, a gentle hand touched my shoulder--one
of those dreaded padres had stepped silently behind me and I looked up
into a face beaming down on mine with kindliness and humor. He asked me if
I was afraid, but one glance at his kindly countenance banished all the
fears I had previously felt, and I replied, "No." The gentle father then
invited me to inspect the church; this was something that I had long
desired to do but was afraid that if I attempted it misfortune might come
to me. The priest took me through the church explaining the various
objects of worship and then took me up into the ancient organ loft where
there is to be seen (I suppose it is there yet) an immense bass viol that
was made hundreds of years ago by the Indians, also a musical curiosity in
the shape of a barrel organ. This barrel organ was made in London, it was
turned by a handle and played, if I remember aright, some three or four
tunes. The first tune that I recollect on this organ was "The Devil's
Dance." When the padres settled at the San Juan Mission the Indians were
very timorous and afraid of them. The legend runs that the organ played an
important part in their conversion. It was brought out and played and the
Indians' curiosity overcame their fear in their desire to see what that
strange thing was. Thus the padres got a chance to
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become acquainted with the Indians and the acquaintanceship ripened into
devotion on the part of the aborigines. But, I think, it was a funny thing
that the Indians were lured to the shadow of the church by a tune called,
"The Devil's Dance." The priest, after showing me these relics of former
days, then took me to the enclosure alongside of the church, back of the
living quarters of the friars and told me that there were over four
thousand bodies buried in that small enclosure which was, to the best of
my recollection, about the size of a small town lot. He told me that it
took fifteen years to build that old mission church and then he showed me
the old building that they used as a place of worship during the building
of the mission. This old building, I believe, now stands; it was built at
right angles to the present church. The gentle friar invited me to call
and see him whenever I came up to the mission. I often visited the good
padre. It developed that this friar had a shotgun and was an ardent
sportsman. Now, at this time, game of all kinds abounded in the San Juan
Valley. On my father's place could be found snipe, and sometimes ducks,
and various kinds of feathered game. The priest asked my father for
permission to hunt over his land; father gladly consented and told him to
come and shoot over his land whenever he liked. One day this priest,
starting on one of his shooting trips, had occasion to pass our house. It
so happened that just at that time my mother was finishing up a churning
and had a large quantity of buttermilk. The priest was very fond of
buttermilk and asked my mother if she would give him some. She did and
also brought forth a bountiful supply of cake and doughnuts which he
greatly enjoyed. This incident brought about a friendship between my
parents and this priest which lasted while he was there, and was greatly
enjoyed by both parties. He came over to the house nearly every week and
my mother was always ready to entertain him with buttermilk or some other
luxury which the mission could not afford. This padre's name was Ubach.
Years later I had occasion to go to San Diego and, lo, and behold! when I
embarked on the steamer at San Francisco, who should I find on the boat
but Father Ubach on his
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way to the old San Diego Mission. The meeting was a joyful one and we made
the trip together. A gentle, kindly soul! He has long since passed to his
heavenly reward. I shall always remember him with affection.
Another priest, the late Father Valentin Closa, was almost my spiritual
advisor when I would consult him about my friend and neighbor, Mary
Ferguson.
Mary Ferguson would start for town with a white rag tied over her head. We
had no radios, but a message would go on the air quicker than radio. "Mary
Ferguson is in town!" and the fellows would disappear. You couldn't even
find the constable with a search warrant. But I had to eat, occasionally,
and Mary would corner me going or coming home and her vocabulary of
profane words was something amazing. It was after one of these encounters
that I generally had a talk with Father Closa, who apparently had heard
Mary's tongue wag.
So, we were brother members, as it were. Father Closa was a fine christian
gentleman, and many good talks I had with him. He would advise me not to
lose my temper, and I have always been thankful for the counsel that he
gave me.
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CHAPTER III
San Juan's schools, in the early days, were unique--Teachers were hard to
get and hard to keep--Some of the pioneer teachers.
AS I RELATED, at the beginning of these reminiscences, the first school I
attended was in Tuolumne county. The next school that contributed towards
my education was in San Juan. This school district comprised what is now
known as San Benito county, and it was a school district with an area
larger than the whole state of Rhode Island.
I remember the names of two of the first trustees of that school district.
One was Patrick Breen, the father of the well-known Breen family who were
members of the ill-fated Donner party. At the time we arrived in San Juan
(1855) Mr. Breen was postmaster and the Breen family resided in the adobe
home once owned by General Castro. This relic of former days, with its
long veranda, still stands alongside the Plaza Hotel. The other trustee of
the school was John Jordan who farmed a tract of land in the lower end of
the valley adjacent to Frank Ross' place. Jordan was principally engaged
in raising hogs. Frank Ross was afterwards sheriff of San Benito county. I
do not remember the name of the third trustee.
When the school district was first organized they rented a building; in
fact they rented several--first locating the school here and then there,
but finally built the one-story building that for years was used as a
school and which is located at the lower end of the cemetery property,
across on the "Rocks Road."
We had many teachers in that school; men of different nationalities. The
first that I remember was William B. Harris,
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a very peculiar man. He was of Cherokee extraction and his father lived in
the San Juan Canyon. The next teacher was Mr. Cooper who was followed by
the Rev. Azariah Martin, afterwards principal for many years of the
Hollister School District. Mr. Martin was a minister (if I remember
correctly, of the Methodist denomination).
The first tax levy for school purposes occurred in 1868 to defray the
expenses of erecting a school on the site now occupied by the San Juan
High School. It must be understood that in those days there were no such
things as high schools or grammar schools or universities. All the pupils
attended the one teacher who was a male, in fact, generally speaking, all
the teachers were men. The people employed whoever they could get to take
the job. Sometimes it would be a minister and sometimes a lawyer; men
unable to make a living following their professions.
In about four or five months the school money was gone and then school was
suspended and sometimes the teacher, if he was able, would start a private
school to which my parents would send me. Sometimes the teacher would be
Scotch, and at other times Irish. There was, up to the time the school was
built, no regular building for holding school. It was usually some private
house or church until 1859 when the small school building above alluded to
on the "Rocks Road," was built. It is deserted now and has not been used
for many years.
In the early sixties, after this schoolhouse was built, there came to San
Juan a young man by the name of Samuel Shearer, who applied for the
position of teacher. The trustees hired him and he retained the position
for a long time. As a teacher Mr. Shearer was second to none. He had the
faculty of being able to impart knowledge to pupils so that they would
understand it. His hobby was mathematics. There was always a broad smile
on his face when he had some of us at the
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blackboard working at a difficult problem and explaining as we proceeded
the whys and wherefores of the operation.
Mr. Shearer taught all the pupils in the school and, as there were too
many scholars for one teacher to attend to, properly, the trustees hired
an assistant for the smaller pupils. This lady's name was Miss French.
Well do I remember the day she came. Some of the boys including myself,
all about the same age, talked it over and we concluded it would be
embarrassing for a perfect stranger to take charge of a school like that
one. So, we put it up to Mr. Shearer and he advised us to appoint someone
to escort her to the school. Simeon Harris was picked to do the honors, as
he was about the best dressed pupil. He performed the task with credit to
himself.
Simeon Harris was a classmate of mine and a very bright boy. Simeon and
Alfred Harris, another schoolmate, were brothers of Dan Harris, the San
Juan merchant. Amelia Harris, who also attended the same school was a
sister of the above named lads.
The introduction of Mr. Shearer to Miss French rang the bell--not at that
particular time, but not so very long after, the wedding bells rang and
Miss French became the wife of Samuel Shearer.
On Friday afternoon we had recitations and spelling matches. There were
always parents and grownups present to see how we performed. This, I
think, had a very good effect on the pupils.
Mr. Shearer afterwards located in Salinas and was elected superintendent
of schools in Monterey county. Mr. Shearer was also for a long time a
grain broker.
Mr. Shearer died a few years ago. Towards the last of his life he
commenced writing a series of reminiscenses which were published in the
Salinas Index, and which proved to be highly interesting.
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Mr. Shearer was a learned man, and he was mourned, at his passing, by all
who knew him. He was one of the early type of educators in this state, and
left the impress of his thorough schooling on many of the prominent men
that afterwards helped to build up this commonwealth.
Conditions were primitive in those days. The pupils all sat on benches, as
the only chair in the room was used by the teacher--a mark of distinction.
The pupil or his parents had to make his own desk, consequently the school
room possessed a motley aspect as regards desks. My father, who was quite
a workman, made my desk. It had the unusual distinction of having a lock
on it enabling me to place my lunch in the desk (it is hardly necessary to
say that the lunch would have been stolen if it had been left laying
around). I also kept my books, safely, in there.
Hygiene was something that no one knew anything about, and as far as
hygiene rules were concerned they were fractured--in fact, broken into
smithereens. There was no examination of pupils' eyes, throats, or teeth,
as we have today. I cite these things in order to show how far we have
advanced in everything that makes living worthwhile. And yet, under the
simple guidance of these educators, we learned the three R's and learned
them well. We all drank out of the same bucket with the same dipper and
sometimes the water was anything but pure. In many cases the bucket of
water had to be packed a quarter of a mile or so from some pump.
With all my mother's eternal vigilance in the matter, I would, now and
then, accumulate a large colony of "cooties," (in those days we called
them lice) and then, God help me, I got it good and plenty from my dear
mother who, of course, insisted that I had been playing around with some
of those "no goods" at school.
The classes in school were made up of all nationalities--Spanish,
American, Mexicans and Chilenoes; in fact, almost every nationality on the
globe except Chinese and Japanese.
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The books were varied, too. We had no series. They were made up of all
kinds and of different authors, --Towne's Spelling Book, McGuffey's
Readers, Ray's Mental Arithmetic, and J. Davies' Mathematics. Inasmuch as
the books that came to California were brought around the Horn (at least a
majority of them were) it can be imagined what a strange assortment of
books were used in that school. I remember well one old history I had. It
was Peter Parley's History and contained biblical stories about David and
Goliath, Susan and the Elders, and also stories about George Washington
who "never told a lie" and the Battles of Bunker Hill and of Ticonderoga.
It contained other stories that were calculated to arouse our patriotism,
and to give us a desire for truth and upright living. (I wish to remark
right here that in my childish mind there was always a suspicion that the
story about George Washington's never telling a lie was the biggest kind
of "bunk." Someone told that story so often that he commenced believing
it, I always asserted).
Discussing my earlier school days brings back to my memory an incident
which reflects early day conditions. In the latter 60's Castroville was a
big burg as "burgs" went in those days and, of course, they had a school
there. There were large boys attending the school and it may be asserted
that the old saying about the "wild west where men are men" might be
parodied to the effect that in the early days of California "boys were
hellions"--which translated into the vernacular means that they were
rough, boisterous, aped the manners of their progenitors and men
associates, and ran things generally with a high hand.
This condition of affairs existed in many schools but notably so in the
Castroville school. The boys in that school were so rough and turbulent
and made it so unpleasant for the teacher that the trustees found it
almost impossible to find anyone willing to teach the school. The boys
made it so warm and lively for the instructors that the latter usually,
after a few weeks' or months' trial at the job, quit in disgust.
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At one period in Castroville's history the school trustees engaged a
teacher from Monterey. His name was Tom Clay, a nephew of the famous Henry
Clay of Congressional fame in the 50's in Washington and one of the
principal figures in the lurid discussions in congress that led to our
Civil War. Tom Clay said that he would teach the school and in due time it
was announced that the school would reopen with a new teacher. The boys
prepared to give this new teacher a taste of wild life and intended to
hold a jamboree when he was compelled to make his exit from the scene of
his labors.
On the morning that the school opened all the pupils attended--boys and
girls. The boys were of mature size, many of them could be called young
men they were such strapping, muscular young fellows. Tom Clay rang the
bell, the pupils trooped in and took their places. Clay proceeded to his
desk and after making the pupils recite the Lord's prayer told them to sit
down. Then, reaching back to his hip pocket, he pulled out a six-shooter
which he regarded fondly and, laying it on the edge of his desk, remarked;
"I want all you pupils, especially you young bucks, to understand right
now, that I am going to run this school and teach you something. You will
do as I say or there is going to be trouble.
History relates that there was no further trouble in that school. The
pupils became obedient and "perlite" and Tom Clay retired from his
position, as teacher, with added lustre to the name of Clay.*
(* Editor's Note:--Mr. Mylar tells the above story and places the incident
at Castroville. He tells us that he got the story from Tom Clay himself.
Now, in the early days when we were in Hollister running the Free Lance,
we heard the same story but it was located at Fairview. Fairview was known
as the Irish District of San Benito County. It contained the families of
the Doolings, the Hudner's the Daly's, the Cagneys, and others.
The Fairview school was said to have had the biggest and most turbulent
youngsters in all San Benito County. Amongst the pupils were men now
prominent and highly respected citizens of San Benito County. The story
goes, as told us, that these boys had run every teacher out of that
school. It was their pastime. Finally, Tom Clay was engaged to teach and
on the morning that he opened the school he laid not one six-shooter, but
two six-shooters on the edge of his desk, having extracted the aforesaid
artillery from his hip pockets, and remarked, "I understand that you
blankety-blank-blanks have been running every teacher out of this school.
Well, you can't run me out but, if you think you can, start in just as
soon as possible. I am going to run this school and teach you. And if you
get rough with me I'm going to kill some of you!" And history says that he
taught the school. It became a model school, but those pupils saw to it
that he was not re-engaged for another term.
We knew Tom Clay well, in fact, we came near being killed by him one
night, but that is another story. Clay was one of Hollister's best-known
"characters." His violent antagonism to the churches and their ministers,
which he recited on every possible occasion, especially against the
Catholic church, made him a village pest who could break up any street
gathering quicker than a skunk. Towards his last days Tom took a fancy to
the editor of the Pajaronian and we became quite friendly. He was, indeed,
a strange character.--Ed. Pajaronian.)
The San Juan parents sent their children to school to obey the rules and
if they were punished for disobedience, they were generally punished again
on their return home. My parents considered it a mark of disgrace for
their children to be whipped for disobeying the rules. They argued that
the teacher must have had a good reason for flogging or else he would not
have done so and accordingly, Solomon's injunction to "Chastise thy son in
his youth so that he may rejoice in his latter end" was followed to the
letter by outraged parents.
Page 33
Of all the pupils that attended the San Juan school when I went to school
there, but five remain, one of whom is Fielding Hodges, son of Chas. and
Mrs. Hodges who came to San Juan in 1857. Of a family of five children,
but three boys remain; Fielding, William and Samuel Hodges. William Hodges
has been employed in the assessor's office in Oakland for the past thirty
years; Samuel Hodges lives in Hollister on the San Benito river and
Fielding Hodges married a daughter of Tile and Mrs. Rupe. They have a fine
residence on the west side of Monterey street between Third and Fourth
Streets, San Juan. He is a carpenter by trade and is the same booster for
San Juan that he was years and years ago.
Mrs. L. E. Mossup, daughter of Dr. Robt. Mathews, was born in Texas in
1848 and came, with her father, to California
Page 34
in 1852 arriving in November of that year at San Juan. Dr. Mathews
traveled overland from Texas to Mazatlan in Mexico where he took passage
on a boat to California with his daughter, his wife being deceased. The
boat was poorly manned and to make the journey worse a fever broke out
amongst the passengers, of which there were four hundred. They soon ran
low on water to drink there being only a small tumblerful allowed to each
passenger daily. The passengers were dying so rapidly that there were
scarcely enough well ones to bury the ones that died. After drifting most
of the time, at the end of seventy-two days, they finally landed on Morro
Rock, close to San Luis Obispo. Out of the four hundred passengers but
five remained besides the sailors.
Dr. Mathews took up his residence in San Juan where Mrs. Mossup grew up
and at the age of eighteen married L. A. Mossup in May 1866. Mr. and Mrs.
Mossup resided at Bitterwater Valley where they farmed for years. They
afterwards moved to Monterey where Mr. Mossup died. Mrs. Mossup is a half
sister to the late Sam and John Mathews, who were large stockraisers in
Monterey county. Mrs. Mossup owns a comfortable home at 505 Van Buren
street, Monterey. Two of her sons, George and Victor live with her. She
does her own household work and is cheerful and optimistic.
Another one of my schoolmates is Mrs. Thos. Bickmore of Hollister. Mrs.
Bickmore came to San Juan, in 1854 with her stepfather, Dr. Campbell, and
her mother. Her mother was a sister of Dr. Robt. Mathews. Mrs. Bickmore's
maiden name was Martha Cullumber. Her father died in Arizona and her
mother afterwards married Dr. Campbell.
Page 35
CHAPTER IV.
The pioneer merchandise stores of San Juan--The merchants who conducted
them--Supplies of New Idria Mines were conveyed by ox teams yoked Spanish
style.
IN 1855-1856, San Juan was an important point on "El Camino Real." Few
towns could boast of more activity than this stopping place for the
overland stages. There were four general merchandise stores; quite a
number for so early a period.
One store was conducted by James McMahon, Sr. This was James McMahon who
afterwards built the McMahon House in Hollister, the leading hostelry in
that town, for many years. It is not necessary to remark that McMahon was
an Irishman. He was the father of Tom McMahon, afterwards a prominent
merchant in Hollister; James who became a lawyer, and several daughters,
one of whom married Judge Jas. F. Breen, a member of the Breen family of
San Juan. Judge Breen served San Benito county for many years as Superior
Judge.
It was Jas. McMahon, Sr., who purchased the Florence School at Hollister
and presented it to the Catholic Sisters. This incident is worth relating.
I forget what denomination built that school. It was a fine two-story
building on the block back of the present Catholic church in Hollister. It
was intended as a denominational school but did not prosper and finally
the mortgage falling due "Jim" McMahon purchased the property and
presented it to the sisters with the proviso that it had to be used as a
Catholic school, otherwise it would revert to the McMahon estate. This
school is the site of the present sisters' school at Hollister, and,
needless to say, it has never reverted to the McMahon heirs.
Page 36
Another store was run by Daniel Harris, a Jew; the third by Mr.
Prattalongo, a Frenchman; and the fourth, by Felipe Gardella, an Italian.
Accordingly, if you belonged to any one of these four nationalities, you
could patronize your own countrymen.
The supplies for these merchandise stores were brought by wagons from
Alviso, at the head of San Francisco Bay, to which point they were
conveyed by a small flat bottomed steamboat from San Francisco. There was
a great deal of freight in those days, as there was a large district to be
supplied with goods. Mr. Harris had a contract to furnish the supplies for
the New Idria Quicksilver Mining Company, located sixty-nine miles south
of Hollister, at that time just across the Fresno County line.
Right here let me interpolate that Fresno county played a low-down trick
when it allowed the legislature to cede the New Idria mining district over
to San Benito county. At the time of the ceding and for years previous,
the New Idria mines were worked by Mexicans and other classes of labor
that were prone to killings, fighting, brawls, and general turbulence.
There was great interest taken in Hollister in the matter when the cession
of this territory was proposed, and all hands except Tom Hawkins, of the
Hollister bank, were in favor of it. Fresno county put up a bluff that it
would fight losing any of its territory, but after the deal was made it
was learned that secretly Fresno politicians and business men favored
getting rid of the district. After San Benito took over New Idria it was
found that the attitude of the Fresnoans was founded on the fact that
killings and brawls up at the mines had cost the county thousands of
dollars. I do not know what murders and brawls have cost San Benito county
since she has taken over the territory, but she has paid dearly for
accepting the trust. I remember one trial of two Mexican boys who murdered
a roadside inn-keeper near the mines that cost San Benito county upwards
of $10,000, and this trial was only a sample of many others that have
occurred in the past thirty-five years.
Page 37
It will be remembered that the New Idria Mines gave Tom Bell, the San
Francisco capitalist, (whose tragic history was mixed up with Mammy
Pleasant, his negress housekeeper) his start for the great fortune that at
one time he held. Harris, the San Juan merchant, would send the goods up
to New Idria by pack train and the horses and mules would return with
flasks of quicksilver. Anyone acquainted with quicksilver realizes the
strength necessary to pick up one of the flasks of that heavy metallic
fluid. Some of the animals were compelled to carry three flasks which
amounted to about 350 pounds.
These flasks, when brought to San Juan, were carelessly thrown into the
yard back of Mr. Harris' store. Although a high-priced commodity, being
largely used in mining operations, no one ever stole any of the flasks.
Their dead weight precluded anyone from getting any distance with a flask
to say nothing of the difficulty in trying to sell the stolen property.
Harris enjoyed this patronage from the mines until it was taken to Gilroy
but subsequently a semblance of a road having been constructed to the
mines, a Spaniard (whose name I can't remember now) got the contract to do
the hauling from Mr. Harris. This Spaniard used oxen, worked Spanish
style, that is, the yoke almost straight up, fastened behind and to the
horns by a rawhide strap one and one-half inches wide and about eight feet
long. The load was pulled altogether by the heads of the poor animals. It
took two men to drive a team.
One day out of curiosity I asked one of the drivers why they did not work
them American style (with the yoke and bow) to which the driver, in true
Spanish style explained that using his method the oxen seemed stronger
inasmuch as they "had the strength of the head and the neck to pull the
load."
As I said before it took two men to drive a team of oxen and then they
could not keep the beasts in the road. Where the road passed our place
there was a corner. It was wide and commodious yet notwithstanding this
facility, scarcely a trip did this team make that a portion of our fence
would not be
Page 38
torn down by the team in making the turn. My brother, who was about 17
years old, decided to lighten his labor of having to repair the fence so
often by stopping this damage. Accordingly he cut down an oak tree which
had two limbs sticking out. The tree was about two feet through. This he
planted at the corner about four feet in the ground. After that no further
damage was done to our fence but, oh, Lord, the language that was used by
those drivers. I understood Spanish and used to take great delight in
hearing their strong language.
After the road was fixed up and opened to some extent, Americans began to
use six-horse teams and freighting became general.
Early Days at the Mission San Juan Bautista - End of Chapters I-IV