The Early Days and Men of California

Front matter

SAN FRANCISCO IN 1846-47. Designed and published by the Author and authenticated by General Vallejo, Genrjre Hyde and Col. J. D. Stevenson THE EARLY DAYS AND MEN OF CALIFORNIA BY W. F. SWASEY 1891 PACIFIC PRESS PUBLISHING COMPANY, OAKLAND, CAL., SAN FRANCISCO, NEW YORK AND LONDON. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year iSpi, by W. K. SWASEY, In the office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. PkCmC VRtSS PUBUSVUUG COWPMW , Om.v.mio, Cm.. V«\Hit«s, twnwyuptHS, B\«ot«s. DEDICATION. §ESIROUS OF GIVING EXPRESSION TO FEELINGS OF WARMEST PERSONAL REGARD, Jf\ COMBINED WITH SENTIMENTS OF MOST PROFOUND RESPECT AND ESTEEM, THIS HUMBLE VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY DED- ICATED TO THE HON. CAIUS T. RYLAND, OF SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA, BY The Author. CONTENTS. Autobiography of the Author 9-47

Chapter I

Author"s Arrival in California — Book-keeper at Sutter's Fort — Sutter's Hospitality — General Castro's Arrival at Fort — Castro's Proclamation 48-50

Chapter II

Fremont's Arrival — His Trip to San Joaquin Valley and to Yerba Buena and Monterey — Obtains Permission from Castro to Take His Men to Monterey — Takes His Command towards Monterey — Arrives at Gomez Ranch — Castro Raises Force to Resist His Further Advance — Fremont Camps, Throws up Breastworks and Hoists American Flag — Strikes Camp and Goes to Tulare Valley — Arrival of Lieutenant Gillespie as Bearer of Dispatches from Secretary of State — Secret Letter to Larkin — Gillespie Starts to Recall Fremont — Bancroft's History — Larkin's Books — Taking of Sonoma by Bear Flag Party — Bancroft's Comments — Castro's Proclamation the Cause — Bancroft's Denunciations — Author's Criticism of Bancroft 51-56

Chapter III

Affairs in Monterey — English Feeling Dominant — Junta of Californians — Speech by General Vallejo — Bancroft's Denial — Letter from General Vallejo — Arrival of Commodore Sloat — Rumors of Trouble in Mexico — Larkin's Interview with Sloat — Interviews between Sloat, Captains Mervine and Page — Cftmmodore Stoat's Irresolution and Timidity — Anxiety of the Americans — Protest of French Consul — His Arrest — Commodore Sloat's Final Determination to Raise the Flag — The Flag Raised 57-61

Chapter IV

Dispatches Sent to Captain Montgomery and Fremont — Arrival of Commodore Stockton on Frigate Congress — Arrival of British Line-of- Battle Ship Collingwood, Admiral Seymour — Fremont's Arrival with His Men — Their Unique Appearance — British Officers Visit Their Camp — Their Expert Rifle Shooting — Doctor Semple — Fremont Sails for (v) VI CONTENTS. San Diego — Commodore Sloat Turns over Command to Commodore Stockton— Stockton Sails for San Pedro— Combines Forces with Fremont and Takes Los Angeles — Leaves Los Angeles in Command of Gillespie— He Is Obliged to Capitulate— Captain Mervine's Attempt to Retake Los Angeles Abortive— Re-organizing Forces in the North— Stockton Sails for San Diego— Fremont Sails for the South— Author Joins Battalion— Put into Monterey— Larkin Taken Prisoner 62-66

Chapter VI

Fremont Leaves Monterey — Organization of Battalion — Indian Spy Shot — Taking of San Luis Obispo — Jose de Jesus Pico Tried by Court Martial and Condemned to Be Shot — Pico Pardoned 73-77

Chapter VII

Passage of the Santa Ynez Mountains — Taking of Santa Barbara — Arrival at San Buenaventura — Messenger from Commodore Stockton — Arrival at San Fernando Mission — Flag of Truce — Commissioners Meet and Conclude Treaty for Capitulation — Surrender and Completion ofthe Conquest of California 78-80

Chapter VIII

General Remarks and Conclusion 81-82 Introduction to Biography 83-88 Biographical Sketches 89-401 Vale 402-406 INDEX OF PIONEERS. o Pack. General John C. Fremont 89 William Davis Murry Howard 151 William A. Leidesdorff. 155 Jasper O'Farrell 157 John Sullivan 159 Moses Schellenberger 161 Jacob R. Snyder 172 George McDougall 177 William Blackburn 179 Washington A. Bartlett 181 George Hyde 183 Edwin Bryant 193 Richard Mitchell Sherman 193 R. C. Kirby '. 196 Edward C. Kemble 199 Samuel Brannan 202 Benjamin S. Lippincott 208 Andrew J. Grayson 209 Robert A. Parker 210 Selim E. Woodworth 212 Colonel Jonathan D. Stevenson 218 Emanuel Charles Christian Russ 229 Adolphus Gustave Russ 233 Charles Edward Russ.. 237 Augustus Philip Russ 238 Frederick Russ 238 Henry B. Russ 239 Edward Gilbert 241 James C. L. Wadsworth 242 Joseph Libbey Folsom 245 George Stoneman 246 Pierre Barlow Cornwall 250 Orville C. Pratt 254 Captain William A. Richardson 26S William Heath Davis 268 Nathan Spear 269 William Sturgis Hinckley 269 Jean Jaques Voiget 269 John Paty 269 Robert T. Ridley 269 Peter Shirrebeck 270 Joseph P. Thompson 270 Henry F. Tischemacher 270 William M. Smith 270 Francis Hoen 271 John Kittleman 271 INDEX OF PIONEERS.

Pack- Elbert P.Jones 2?I James Lick 271 W.Frank Ward 27x John C. Buchanan 27I Benjamin R. Buckelew 272 Alfred J. Ellis 2?2 James C. Ward 272 Alexander G. Abell '-272 John B. Frisbie 273 Doctor William C. Parker 273 Thaddeus M. Leavenworth 273 Francis J. Lippett 274 Doctor Victor J. Fourgeand 274 Eliab and Hiram Grimes 274 Charles L. Ross 274 •>-•-«• The Argonauts o Pagb. Louis Sloss 277 Caius Tacitus Ryland 282 Willard Brigham Farwell 286 David Jackson Staples 291 Arthur M. Ebbets 297 Howard Havens 301 Colonel John D. Fry 304 Thomas Cole 308 Frank M. Pixley 311 James Phelan ™ 317 Abraham Powell 321 William Henry Bovee 326 Henry Brown Hunt 332 Darius O. Mills 337 William T. Coleman 345 Richard Hayes McDonald 354 William H. Pratt 364 Atkins Massey 368 Daniel Norcross 374 John F. Lohse 379 Edgar Brijgs 381 George Dedrick Nagle 385 George H. Howard 396 Reuben Morton

Introduction

. In projecting this book, it was the intention and design of the author to make it exclusively biographical, avoiding special mention of historical events, except where it was absolutely nec essary, in vindication of the personal character of those of whom he writes; but so many errors, perversions, distortions, and also malicious and malignant aspersions of private character, have crept into the writings of one of the numerous reputed and so called historians, especially regarding the events occurring during the time of California's most eventful history, i. e., the raising of the Bear Flag and subsequent conquest, that it becomes a necessity, as well as a duty, to include a brief epitome of the history of that period. Having been contemporary with the times and events of which he writes, and an humble participator in its history, the author claims statistical and narrative accuracy.

But when he realizes that such history, coming within the purview of his own pre terition, has been perverted and garbled, and private character gratuitously and cruelly maligned, is to be transmitted to pos terity, and accepted by reputable journals as truthful, he feels inclined to be incredulous as to all history, and to doubt whether such a man as Julius Cæsar ever lived, and, if he did, whether he was an angel or a devil. It should be borne in mind by the reader that the immigrants, previous to the discovery of gold, were composed of a class of men who were in the full vigor of early manhood, imbued with a spirit of adventure in its highest sense, and backed by intelligence and supreme self-reliance. Many of their names are so inter woven and identified with the settlement and development of California that they are already familiar to those conversant with its early history. The author does not claim that they were entirely free from the ordinary frailties of humanity, but their

INTRODUCTION.

. X frailties, however, were harmful only to themselves individually, and never resulted in injury to the public. As a class, they were a chivalrous, brave, generous, and unselfish set of men, and their many good qualities should dim and obliterate recollection of attributes of an opposite character. They found California an uncultivated, almost unpopulated, paradise, blooming in silence and solitude, amid primeval and magnificent luxuriance, like a young maiden waiting for her bridegroom. They sought her, they wooed her, and they won her, and placed her, the brightest jewel now gleaming in the coronet that circles the brow of Co lumbia. Those of them who still survive, as they now view her populous cities, towns, and villages, her hills and valleys teeming with all the products nature is capable of producing, may well feel a glow of pride while contemplating such glorious results, to achieve which they devoted the vigor of their earlier manhood.

They have witnessed an unparalleled and almost magical trans formation. Upon the then uncultivated and scarcely habited valleys, plains, and mountains, time in its inevitable flight has destroyed almost every trace or landmark. The hand of man, the mighty stride of progress, have obliterated almost every feature of her landscapes and changed the character of her denizens. Where solitude then reigned in almost unbroken silence, now appear the populous cities and prosperous towns and villages, containing the splendid warehouses of the merchant and the stately mansions of the rich, embellished with all the luxury and art that wealth can purchase, adorned with culture and refinement, teeming with the hum and noise of all the varied occupations of a busy, prosperous, and happy people, surrounded by a manufacturing, mining, and rural population, and winning competence and affluence from a soil unsurpassed in all this world, in its lavish reward to the hand of industry.

Many of them have been prominent in social and official life, under both national and State governments. All of them have been, at times, men of wealth and business prominence; some still remain so. Some have tasted the bitter dregs of poverty, and are now struggling in their old age for their daily necessities. None of them have ever been a burden upon charity, and not one has ever been accused of crime. W. F. Swasey. capt. w. f. swasey I introduce these historical and biographical sketches with the story of my own life, mainly for the purpose of showing that the experiences through which I have passed enable me to speak from per sonal knowledge of the events and the men herein referred to. I venture, at the same time, to express the hope that these experiences may be proved of suf ficient interest in themselves not only to justify their publication, but at the same time to relieve me from any charge of egotism in relating them here.

They are but a type of the adventures and eventful lives of hundreds of pioneers who "blazed the way" for Amer ican civilization across the continent and laid its foundations upon the shores of the Pacific. Doubtless the story of my own life, as one of this advance guard, possesses far less interest than that of many others who made up the rank and file of that brave and generous body of men. Most of them have, however, long ago "passed over the divide," leaving nothing of their romantic lives but a fading memory among the few contemporaries who survive them. If, therefore, I present this narrative to the public at the present time, it is not only for the first reason that I have given, but also that this "fading memory" of the lives and adventures of these earlier pioneers into the then comparatively unknown farthermost West, may not pass into oblivion without the story of at least one of their comrades being recorded, as a common type of many, and as a humble tribute to the memory of them all.

I was born in Bath, in the State of Maine. My education was acquired in the day and night public schools of that city, supplemented by an academical course of study. Restless and adventurous in my nature, my family and social surroundings in New En gland were too prosaic to keep me long among them, and at a very early age, in spite of parental remon strances and a mildly-exercised parental authority, I started out into the world to seek my fortune in the newer communities of the West. My beloved and venerated mother, in addition to her blessing, furnished me with a modest sum of money, and so equipped I journeyed westward, and, via Buffalo and Cleveland, I reached Cincinnati, at which point I had determined to commence my career. Young and inexperienced, a stranger in a strange land, I realized at an early moment the magnitude and difficulty of the task that I had undertaken.

That realization grew more intense as the days and weeks rolled by and my small supply of money dwindled rapidly away, while being with out anything to do that would enable me to meet my prospective daily necessities, letting alone laying the foundation of hoped-for fortune. I had, however, fallen in with a gentleman of large means and of extensive business operations, who was from my native State, and had been an old and intimate friend of my father, and this, too, at the opportune mo ment when I was reduced to something less than my last dollar. He had seemed to take quite a fancy or liking for me, and my anxious looks at once invoked his interest, and he inquired, with a sympathy akin to pa ternal solicitude, into the condition of my affairs. I frankly informed him of my situation. He at once in sisted upon relieving me from any present embarrass ment, and offered me employment with himself.

His business called him East, and he gave me spe cific instructions how to attend to it during his absence. He also placed $1,500 to my credit in a Cincinnati bank, and told me to go up to the canal and specu late in any produce coming to the city by that route, and that he had no fear but my Yankee shrewdness would bring me out all right. I took his advice, and the first attempt I made came very near proving dis astrous. I bought a large quantity of smoked meats, bacon, hams, sides, and shoulders; they turned out to be guiltless of sufficient smoke and salt to convert them into well-cured meats. I had failed to call in the service of the inspector of meats. I had taken the lot on trust, as it were, and soon found that unless I could avert the disaster, the whole lot would soon spoil on my hands and be marketable only with the soap boiler.

If, however, my youth and inexperience had thus early plunged me into what threatened to be a serious diffi culty, my ingenuity was whetted keenly into sharp ac tion by the necessities of the case, and I soon found a way of extricating myself from the trouble. I hired a smoke-house, had the meats suspended, and pro ceeded to have them well smoked. In this condition,. while the smoking process was going on, just as they hung, I succeeded in finding a purchaser, who took the whole lot off my hands at a handsome advance, leaving my first venture a satisfactory commercial success. I regret to add that my purchaser was less fortunate in the transaction, since smoke did not stay the rav ages of time, and the meats found their destiny in the soap boiler at last. As my purchaser was an experi enced dealer, and declared himself an expert, and said he would depend upon his own judgment rather than pay an inspector, my conscience did not prick me in the least because I had thus got the best end of the bargain.

I continued my operations, but thereafter with more care and caution. I was very lucky and successful in everything I touched, and I found my self, at the end of nine weeks, when my benefactor re turned, not only able to repay him what he had fur nished me, with interest, but with something more than two thousand dollars of profits to my credit, which I offered to my good friend, but he would not even take a share of it, but insisted upon my keeping it all. Since that time I have been able, at times, to count my wealth with six figures, but I have never felt so rich as I did then. At this time I became acquainted with Richard Ames, son of the Revolutionary patriot, Fisher Ames, who was then one of the most extensive operators in all kinds of produce and furs in the West. This acquaintance thus early entered into, tended largely in shaping my future career.

The fur trade was Ames' favorite business, but it was rapidly drifting farther west and centering in St. Louis. From engaging in various transactions with Mr. Ames, I soon became associated with him in business. We soon found it necessary to remove to St. Louis, and there we estab lished ourselves in the fur trade, shipping our furs and peltries via the Alleghany Mountains to the house of A. H. Center & Son, then the most extensive fur dealers in the United States. Success crowned our efforts from the beginning; our business increased steadily, and an uninterrupted career of prosperity seemed opening before me. My duties in the firm led me into the wild districts of Southern Missouri, whose forests and swamps were swarming with wild animals of almost every description. Most all kinds of furs were plentiful and cheap, but of inferior quality to those further North; still we found them very profitable, and the bulk of our collec tions was procured there.

Southern Missouri at that time was the wildest, most lawless country I have ever seen. It was sparsely settled, by a rough, ignorant people, who lived mostly by hunting, raising here and there only a few hogs and a little corn, and they were the law unto themselves; deadly feuds were common occurrences; a man would be killed, and the party committing the deed would move a few miles into an adjoining county, and nothing would be done about the matter. The extensive swamps were alive with wild game, the most venomous snakes, and fever and ague. The primitive habits of most of the inhabitants bordered closely upon savagery. Although at a comparatively short distance from civilized life, yet I saw many peopie dwelling in those swamps whose whole lives had been passed there, who were as utterly ignorant of the ways and habits of civilization as if separated by thousands of miles, or living in darkest Africa.

I saw many instances of families who knew nothing about tea or coffee, or how to prepare them ; they made a tea or beverage of sassafras, which grew wild and in abundance. The only kind of spirituous liquor they had was what they called undistilled whisky, made from corn. It had a milky sort of appearance, and was very innocent looking, but, like many other things in this world, its looks were very deceiving; its subtle power was marvelous and devilish. From the tame and peaceful life of a New En gland boy, this was rather a startling transition; life was full of excitement and adventure, sufficiently spiced with danger to make it interesting, and keep one's fac ulties on the alert, and I soon became accustomed to it, although I had one or two close calls. I was bitten by a Lake Moccasin snake, and badly cut with a bowie knife, an,d shot in the leg in melees that I had no inter est in.

But during that life I learned the lesson of self-reliance, that has stood me in dire need many times since. I will not tire my readers by relating, in detail, the experiences through which I passed while engaged in this occupation, but as illustrative of the wild and un inhabited condition of that section of Missouri at that period, I may mention one incident that impressed it self so deeply upon my memory, and tried my courage and endurance so severely, that it may interest the general reader if I relate it here. Returning to St. Louis, upon one occasion, with a wagon well loaded with furs and peltries, we came to a serious obstruction in the shape of fallen timber barring our progress; the timber, for a width of a hundred yards or more, and extending an unknown distance, had been uptorn and leveled to the ground by a tempest ; the trees lay in one direction, like a straight swath cut through a grain field.

In some portions of the West these tor nado tracks are termed "windrows." In Missouri, cause and effect had been blended in the common des ignation of "hurricane." With the greatest difficulty we finally succeeded in passing over it, but with the loss of one of our horses by a broken leg, so we could go no farther but camped, and I dispatched my com panion, on the back of the remaining horse, to the nearest house, some twenty miles, for assistance, and prepared to make myself as comfortable as possible during the night. I gathered a quantity of pine knots, built a fire and cooked supper. As nightfarl began to gather, and darkness added to the gloom of the forest, the howling of a wolf broke the otherwise pervading silence, directly followed by others. Realizing that it was the running season for the wolves, a feeling of anxiety took possession of me, as I realized the danger of my situation.

Louder and louder came the ominous howls, until the woods seemed to be alive with them. I piled on the pine knots in the hope that the light of the fire would stay their ap proach. The light of my fire was reflected back to me from hundreds of gleaming eyes on every side of me, accompanied by fiendish snarling, and the sound of gnashing teeth. I could not move in any direction to procure more fuel, and my stock was rapidly becom ing exhausted. Knowing that I should soon be in utter darkness, and at the mercy of these ruthless beasts, and that but one resource was left me, I pro ceeded at once to avail myself of it, while yet the light of the fire kept the howling pack at bay. Young and active as I was, I sprang quickly to a tree near my fire, and, with the nimbleness of a squirrel, reached a perch of safety.

As the fire died out, the ferocious wolves dashed upon the camp and wagon ; the furs and peltries were soon gnawed and scattered in every direction. The poor horse, whose leg was broken, and which we had mercifully killed, had already furnished the piece de resistance of these hungry denizens of the forest. The howling beasts, when all else was ex hausted, held high carnival at the foot of the tree upon which I was perched, until daylight dawned, in the vain hope of making me a sort of dessert to their repast. With the dawn they slunk away into the forest, and as the sun rose, tired, cramped, and half frozen, I de scended to the ground and viewed the proceedings of the prolonged night session of these ravenous beasts. The furs and peltries were gnawed into shreds, scattered around, and ruined.

The skeleton of the horse, picked clean, and fairly polished, gleamed white and ghost-like in the morning sunlight. It was indeed a wreck of all animal matter except myself in that vicinity, nothing remaining but the wagon and my solitary self. About noon my companion returned with help and fresh horses, and, richer only in experi ence, I returned to St. Louis without further mishap. I J The events of my life which immediately followed might well be passed over here were it not necessary to relate a part in order to show the cause which eventually led me into the wilderness of the yet farther West, and made me an humble actor in the events which followed. My partner professed to have learned of a large collection of furs and peltries which had been gathered at a point on the Current River, in Southern Mis souri, and which he wished to go and buy.

The purchase would require a large amount of money, and all our available cash resources were gathered together and placed in his hands. So equipped he started, as I supposed, on his mission. A week later I heard of his having been seen in Peoria, Illinois, and a few days after I learned, to my utter astonishment and dismay, that he had really absconded, leaving me in poverty and dis tress, and breaking up and destroying our business. I started at once on his track, following every clue I could obtain, but I never saw him afterwards. I heard that he had fled into Canada, where possibly he may be living still. In my journeyings I had reached Boston. The excitement and worriment attendant upon this misfortune seriously affected my health, and, by the ad vice of a physician, I again started for the West in the hope of regaining it.

"No pent-up" St. Louis confined my journey this time. My experience there was not calculated to make me infatuated with that place. I went there, however, as a starting-point of my journey towards the sunset regions. While there, in the early fall of 1843, I fell in with a party of Rocky Mountain trappers, from Fort Laramie, now in Wyoming. They consented to my going to Fort Laramie with them. I procured letters from Mr. Tharpee, the head of the American Fur Company, to Colonel Hamilton, then in charge of the company's affairs at Laramie. We reached the fort in due time, without any untoward event. We killed many buffalo on our way up the Platte River. The exercise and invigorating atmos phere had a wonderful effect upon me, and when I reached Laramie I felt like a new man. My experiences thus far in life had been those of a much older and more matured manhood.

I had already regained my natural buoyancy of spirits, and, in a great meas ure, my health, and I felt equal to almost any under taking promising adventure. My disposition just at that time was too reckless to consider well the difficulties and dangers to be encountered in any mode of life that might open before me. At that time Fort Laramie was the rendezvous and base of supplies for the trappers, for hundreds of miles around. The trappers, sometimes alone, sometimes with Indian wives, would take their traps and a couple of ponies and go into the mountain fastnesses to trap for beaver, to be gone from four to six months, returning in the spring with their packs of furs. Acting upon the advice of Colonel Hamilton, I concluded to join a French Canadian trapper called Chaumie, upon one of these trips, in the winter of 1843-44.

We started with a good outfit, with three ponies, an ample supply of jerked buffalo meat, coffee, and ammunition, and the necessary traps. We penetrated into the mountains, and it was some three weeks before Chaumie set his traps. We moved from stream to stream, and were very successful, and Chaumie had cached several packs of beaver. I will here observe that I had no more idea of where we were than a sailor in mid-ocean, without sextant, chart, or compass, but Chaumie seemed to know all about it, and I was con tent. It was a lonely life, but not by any means void of excitement and adventure, and the robust health I was then enjoying kept my spirits in an exhilarant condition that rendered me oblivious to recollections of life in the populous world. When we had been out some three months I no ticed one day that Chaumie appeared anxious and wor ried.

He concealed his traps with more than ordinary care, and would not let me make any fire up in the ravine where we had camped ; I asked him what was the matter. Chaumie spoke broken English; he shook his head and laconically said, "Indians, I no like him." He was watchful and uneasy all night, and I slept but very little myself. The next morning just after day break he took his rifle and went down to the stream to look at his traps; he had been gone about a half hour when I heard the report of his rifle. I crawled to a clump of bushes at the crest of the ravine, and, looking down, I saw Chaumie surrounded by Indians. I hurried back to camp, cut off a few links of jerked buffalo meat from the tree where we hung it, and, with my rifle and buffalo robe, I struck into the mountain, with not the remotest idea which way I was traveling.

Concealing myself in the bushes, I slept soundly that night until daylight. Making a hasty meal of jerked buffalo meat, I started; I struck over a spur of the mountain and down into a valley below; I had hardly reached the valley when my ears were saluted with Indian yells, seemingly on every side of me. I was soon surrounded and found myself a prisoner of the same Indians who had Chaumie. At that time the Sioux and Cheyennes were friendly to the whites, but the Arapahoes were hostile, and I knew it was that tribe who had captured us, and I knew that they were cruel and pitiless, and we could expect no mercy at their hands. They took my rifle away from me, and would not allow me to communi cate with Chaumie, although on our march he several times called out to me to keep up a good heart. We started on a long and weary march far into a mountainous country, that I have always understood to be the Black Hills; after several days we reached their village, composed of some seventy-five lodges.

The In dians all turned out, and had a very excited time on our arrival. I was placed in a lodge with some young bucks of about my own age. The next day they commenced holding powwows to decide what they would do with Chaumie and myself. I was allowed to wander around, but the young bucks always kept close by me. Chau mie and myself were kept apart, but we several times came within speaking distance, when he would call out to me, "Boy, keep up brave heart; don't be afraid; you all right; they keep you, they make you Indian," inti mating at the same time that he was doomed to a different fate. After a few days I was led, by two old squaws and the young bucks, into the center of the villao-e. Here I found that a small-sized tree had been set firmly in the ground, to which poor Chaumie was fastened.