Chapter 8
Governor Figueroa, called the "benefactor of Alta California" ordered the Missions to be given up to the Indians. By directing that the town of Yerba Buena should be laid out, he also is remembered as the founder of San Francisco. Richardson, who carried out the governor's orders, was the first settler and Leese built the first frame-house of San Francisco.
In Governor Alvarado's time many Americans came to the new country, although Alvarado and General Vallejo tried hard to keep them out. Vallejo was then the military commander, and had headquarters at Sonoma, where he had an adobe fort and a few soldiers to protect the Mission of Solano. Here General Vallejo was living with his Indian and Californian settlers when the place was taken by Ide, the leader of the "bear-flag party." Vallejo, set free when the short-lived "bear-flag republic" went to pieces, lived many years at Sonoma. He was afterwards a member of the first legislature. He tried hard in 1851 to have the state capital at Vallejo; but he failed, for he did not keep his agreement to put up buildings for government use.
A man well known in the early days was John Sutter, a Swiss, who built a fort and settled where Sacramento now stands. He called his colony New Helvetia, and soon had about three hundred Indians at work for him. Some of the men were carpenters, blacksmiths, and farmers, while the women wove blankets or a coarse cloth. His fort enclosed about an acre of ground, with an adobe wall twenty feet high. A large gate was shut every night to keep safe those inside this walled fort. You have read that Marshall, who found gold, was building a sawmill for Sutter when he picked up the precious yellow nuggets. Sutter and Marshall quarrelled at last about the ownership of the mill at Coloma, where the pieces of gold were picked up. Marshall died a poor man, unhappy and neglected by the state, which has since put a costly bronze statue over his grave.
Sutter was very active in the Micheltorena war, when Governor Micheltorena was defeated and put out of office by Alvarado and Castro.
The last of the Mexican governors, Pio Pico, tried his best to prevent the rush of Americans into his country, but though Castro, the military commander, helped him, the Americans came and stayed. And both Pico and Castro with their soldiers were driven out of California at last by Fremont and Stockton.
General Fremont, the "path-finder," who could easily find the best way through a wilderness and could make maps or roads for others to follow him, is a striking figure in California history. He made three exploring trips to this coast, Kit Carson, the famous hunter and trapper, being his guide and scout. From the Oregon line to San Diego, Fremont knew the country. He was a brave Indian fighter and helped to capture California from Mexico. Fremont was appointed governor of the new territory by Stockton, and was the first senator from California representing the state in Congress. In 1848 Fremont sent a map of the country to Congress, and on it named the strait at the entrance to San Francisco Bay the Golden Gate. He was, therefore, the first to use this beautiful name now known the world over. His wife, Jessie Benton Fremont, is still living in Los Angeles.
Commodore Sloat, who raised the American flag at Monterey, and Commodore Stockton were United States naval officers who helped to conquer the Mexican and Indian forces with the aid of Fremont and General Kearny. These four men won the land of gold for the Union.
General John Bidwell, another "path-finder," who in 1841 led the first party of white men over the Sierras, lived to be over eighty years of age. He saw the state, once a wilderness where naked Digger Indians chased elk and antelope, grow to a pleasant land of orchards and vineyards, of great cities full of people. General Bidwell was for a time in Sutter's employ, and surveyed nearly all the large ranches and the roads in early days. All his life he planted trees and built roads, and at his great Rancho Chico is one of the largest orchards in the state. Part of his life-work was to help a tribe of savage Indians to be good American citizens, and as one of the fathers of California he should always be remembered.
Many notable names appear in the days when the finding of gold brought this shore of the Pacific Ocean before the eyes of the world. Among these are Gwin, who was chosen senator with Fremont; Larkin, widely known as the first and last American Consul to California and for his accounts of the gold discovery; and Halleck, first secretary of the state and afterward General Halleck.
The streets of San Francisco honor some of the citizens of 1848 and 1849: Geary, the first postmaster; Leavenworth and Hyde, the first alcaldes or mayors; Van Ness, Broderick, Turk, and McAllister, recalling prominent men of those days. Spanish families like Sanchez, Castro, Noe, Bernal, and Guerrero had also a place on the city map. Indeed, every town has some native Californian names in and around it.
Don Victor Castro, said to be the first white child born in San Francisco, died lately at San Pablo in the house he had built sixty years ago. He was called the last of the Spanish grandees, those dons who, before the Gringos came, had estates that stretched miles away on every hand, and thousands of cattle with many Indian servants. Don Victor built and ran the first ferry across San Francisco Bay.
Sacramento was laid out as a town for Sutter by three lieutenants of the U.S. army: Warner, who was afterwards killed by Indians; Ord, who was a general in the Civil War, while the third, in after years "marched through Georgia" as General Sherman. Marysville was also laid out by Sutter, and Stockton by Weber, who owned all the land around it.
In 1849 Doctor Gregg and his party found Humboldt Bay. In 1851 Yosemite Valley was discovered by Major Savage and a company of soldiers, who were out hunting hostile Indians. This band of Indians was called the Yosemites, and their old chief's name was Tenaya, for whom the beautiful lake is named.
Those who came to California before 1850 were called pioneers, and many of them built up great fortunes. Among them were Coleman, the president of the vigilance committee, Sharon, Flood, Fair, O'Brien, Tevis, Phelan, and James Lick. Lick was a remarkable man, who gave away an immense fortune; building the Lick Observatory, a school of mechanical arts, free public baths, an old ladies' home, and giving a million to the Academy of Science and the Society of California Pioneers.
In later days the names crowd thickly upon each other. Among editors and literary men the fearless and ill-fated James King of the _Evening Bulletin_, J. Ross Browne, the reporter of the first convention and a most interesting writer, Derby the humorist, "Caxton" or W.H. Rhodes, Mark Twain, Bret Harte, the historians Hittell and Bancroft, and the poet Joaquin Miller may be noted.
The governors of the state have been men remarkable as brilliant speakers or lawyers and as wise rulers. In 1875, during the time of Pacheco, the first native-born governor, the order of "Native Sons of the Golden West" was formed, which now numbers over ten thousand young California men. The "Native Daughters," a sister society, follows also the idea of keeping the love of California warm in the hearts of her children.
OUR GLORIOUS CLIMATE
Not only a glorious but in many ways a wonderful climate is enjoyed by the people of California's sea-coast and mountains, her valleys and foot-hills. In no other state can one find so many kinds of weather in such short distances. For instance, in Southern California you may pick flowers and oranges in almost tropical gardens, and in an hour find winter and throw snowballs on the high mountains overlooking the roses and orange groves you so lately left.
Only in the mountains, along that granite backbone of the state known as the Sierra Nevadas, are there four seasons, the spring, summer, autumn, and winter common to most of the United States. So the Sierras have a distinct climate of their own. The Sacramento and San Joaquin river valleys have another climate peculiar to themselves, while south of latitude 35 degrees the coast has less rain and is warmer than the coast counties north of that line.
In the greater part of the state the year is divided into a dry summer and a wet winter. The rains begin in October, and the first showers fall on dry, brown hills and dusty fields baked hard by steady sunshine since May. After these showers the grass springs up, and the fields are green almost as quickly as if some fairy godmother had waved her wand. An army of wild flowers, whose seeds were hidden in the brown earth, wakes when the rain-drops patter, and the plants get ready to bloom in a month or so. For this season, from November to February, with little frost and no ice nor snow, is winter in name only. Roses and violets bloom in the gardens and yellow poppies on the hills.
People expect and hope for much rain in this so-called winter, since a wet year assures good crops to the state. But the amount of rain that falls is very uncertain. It does not rain every day, nor all day, as a rule, and each storm seems different. Sometimes a "southeaster" blows up from the Japan Current, or Black Stream, as the Japanese call the warm, dark-blue waters that pour out of the China Sea. This current of the Pacific Ocean flows along our coast in a mighty river a thousand miles wide, and gives California its peculiar climate of cool summers and moist, warm winters. The southeasterly wind ruffles the bay with white-capped waves and dashes sheets of rain against window and roof. Then the wind changes, and all the clouds go flying to north or east, while from the clear blue sky brilliant sunshine pours down to make the grass and flowers grow. During the winter months the sun is strong and warm enough to make out-door life delightful.
The farmer depends greatly upon the rainfall. In a wet winter the moisture sinks far into the ground, but not so deep that the thirsty little roots cannot find it in the summer. Early rains are needed to soften the ground for November ploughing, and young grain and crops of all kinds need rain through April. In the northern part of the state the wet season begins earlier and lasts longer than in the south, while the southeastern corner is an almost rainless desert.
In San Francisco the thermometer seldom falls below 45º in the winter, the average for the season being 51º. Perhaps in January or February the sidewalks may be white with frost in the mornings, or hail may fall during some cold rain-storm. Once in five years or so, enough snow falls to make children go wild with delight over a few snowballs which are very soon melted. People can be comfortable the year round without fires, and the clear, bright winter days with soft air and warm sunshine are always pleasant enough to spend outdoors. This ocean climate, due to the warm sea air, is enjoyed by the counties facing the coast and San Francisco Bay. In the valleys of the interior white frosts are frequent, and thin ice forms on the wayside puddles. Once in a while killing frosts destroy fruit blossoms and cut down the garden flowers and vegetables, but seldom do more damage.
In mountain regions, above five or six thousand feet, the very cold winter lasts six or seven months. Snow falls almost constantly and drifts to a great depth. Small lakes are frozen and buried in snow, and the trees are bent and weighed down with ice and sleet. Many of the wild animals come down to the foot-hills below the snow-line to spend the winter; but the bear curls himself up in his warm cave and sleeps through the cold months. In this snowy zone of the Sierras, about thirty miles wide, winter lasts from the first snowfall, about the end of October, to the late spring of June. Then July and August are months of glorious weather, with clear, dry air and a cloudless sky. During the day the temperature of about 80 degrees melts much snow, and the rivers carry it away in rushing torrents and falls of icy water. In September the frost turns the leaves of all but the evergreen trees beautiful colors of red and yellow. Indian summer comes during September and October, when the days are sunny and warm, and then the long winter sets in again. Peaks above eight thousand feet are snow-clad on their crests and along their sides by deep drifts the year round.
Along the Pacific coast in summer cool sea-winds, called trade-winds, blow in from the ocean, and 60 degrees is the average temperature. The farther you go inland from the coast, the hotter it gets, and the heat is very great in the interior of the state. In the San Joaquin and Sacramento valleys it is often over 100 degrees in the shade, though this dry heat is not hard to bear, and the nights are always cool enough for one to sleep in comfort.
Summer fogs are usual in the coast counties. The mornings are pleasant and sunny till about eleven o'clock. At this time the sun's rays grow stronger in the interior valleys, and the hot air rises while trade-winds rush in from the cold ocean and fog settles down like a thick, gray cloud over the bay and hills. July and August are cold and foggy along the coastline, with strong west winds almost every day. In September the winds die away, and sometimes a shower or two falls.
The rainless desert, or southeastern corner of our state, is the hottest region of all. Here the sun glares down till sand and rocks seem heated by a fiery furnace. Every living creature gasps and pants for breath in the scorching heat. There are no trees, but only cactus, that queer, prickly, thorny plant, often fifteen or twenty feet high in these wastes of sand, and low greasewood bushes. Under this vegetation snakes, lizards, and horned toads bask all day and search for food at night. If travellers wander from the road in crossing the desert, they are easily lost, and sometimes they die or go mad in the terrible heat. There are no springs, and water stations are a long way apart, so that lost people usually die of thirst. As the heat of the sun's rays quivers over the burning sands, a curious sight called a mirage is often produced. A cool, glassy lake or flowing river bordered with green trees seems pictured in the air, and the hot and weary traveller can scarcely believe that only sand and rocks are before him.
Can you tell which season you like the best? You will find the one you choose in some part of this favored state. It is always summer in the south, and you may slide on the ice or throw snowballs all year in the high Sierras.
SOME WONDERFUL SIGHTS
California is a wonderland where snowy mountains, mighty and ancient forests, glaciers and geysers, lakes and waterfalls, foaming rivers and the cliffs and rolling surf down her long sea-coast give new and beautiful pictures at every place.
Through the whole state stretches the granite backbone of the Sierra Nevadas with its highest crest or ridge at the head-waters of the Kings and Kern rivers near Fresno. Here Mount Whitney and a dozen other great peaks of the High Sierras or California Alps lift their heads over thirteen thousand feet in the air. Here are to be seen most magnificent panoramas of lofty peaks, deep cañons, towering domes, and snow-clad summits. The finest forests, too, in the world grow on the slopes of the Sierras, the immense pines and giant _sequoias_ of the General Grant and other National Parks in this section being the largest and oldest of all. Kings River Cañon is a rugged gorge half a mile deep with the river rushing through it in thundering rapids and cascades.
The well-known Yosemite Valley is the gorge of the Merced River and, though only eight miles long and half a mile wide, holds the grandest of all our mountain scenery. The mighty rock El Capitan, over three thousand feet in height, stands at the entrance to the valley, and across from it is Bridal Veil Fall, a snowy cascade so thin you can see the face of the mountain through the falling waters. There are many waterfalls, but the Yosemite is chief of them all. Here the river takes a plunge of sixteen hundred feet, the water falling like snowy rockets bursting into spray from that great height.
Then, for six hundred feet more, the torrent leaps and foams through a trench it has cut out of the solid rock to the cliff, from which it takes a second plunge. This Lower Yosemite fall is four hundred feet high, the rushing waters turning into clouds of spray, which the wind tosses from side to side. At Nevada Fall the Merced River leaps six hundred feet at a bound, strikes a mass of rocks halfway down, and breaks into white foam upon which rainbows play when the sun shines through the misty veil.
Besides the grand Sentinel Rock, Eagle Peak, Clouds' Rest, and other high mountains in the Yosemite Valley, many domes or round-topped peaks like the heads of buried giants loom up, the most famous being South Dome, Washington Column, Liberty Cap, and Mount Broderick.
But no one can picture this wonderful valley with pen or brush or camera and give its real charm. You must see it yourself to know and understand the beauty of great mountains and falling waters, of Mirror Lake with its fine reflections of the surrounding scenery, and of the rushing torrent of the Merced River in its swift coursing through this mighty cañon of the Yosemite. Thousands of tourists and sightseers visit the valley from May to October. Then snow begins to fall and winter sets in, as it does everywhere in the high Sierras. Very deep snow-drifts cover the ground, lakes and rivers freeze, and the great falls are fringed with icicles, while a large ice cone forms at the foot of the falling water. Many beautiful pictures may be found in the valley in winter when Jack Frost is ruler of all the snow-clad, ice-bound cañon.
Scattered throughout the Sierras are other valleys almost as fine as the Yosemite. These are not often reached by the army of summer sight-seers, but true mountaineers find them. One valley which has fine scenery is the Grand Cañon of the Tuolumne, the gorge being twenty-five miles long, with walls so high and steep that once entered one must go through to the end. The Tuolumne River rushes, with terrible force and speed, in cascades and rapids down the granite stairway which is the floor of this cañon. The walls of the gorge rise so high that the traveller only sees a tiny strip of blue sky far above him, and the great pine trees on top of these cliff walls seem only the length of one's finger.
It is supposed that all these valleys have been formed by glaciers, which during the ice age, thousands of years ago, filled the cañons and swept over the mountains. These masses of ice, moving very slowly, ground and tore up the rocks under and around them till deep gorges and steep, high cliffs were left in their tracks. Most of the glaciers melted long ago, but on Mount Lyell, on Shasta, and a few of the Sierra summits may still be found those ever-living ice-rivers, the one on Mount Lyell being the source of the Tuolumne River.
California is rich in lakes, especially in the mountains where the melting snows gather in every hollow and form lakelets in chains or groups, or in one large body of water like Tahoe, Donner, or Tenaya lakes.
One of the most beautiful lakes in the world is Lake Tahoe. It is six thousand feet above sea-level, and the mountains around it rise four thousand feet higher. On these peaks snow-drifts lie the year round above the "snow-line," as a height over eight or nine thousand feet is called. Nevada, treeless and barren, is on the eastern side of Lake Tahoe, while the western or California side is green and thickly wooded with beautiful pines. But the first thing one would notice, perhaps, is the wonderful clearness of the lake water. As one stands on the wharf the steamer _Tahoe_ seems to be hanging in the clear green depths with her keel and twin propellers in plain sight. The fish dart under her and all about as in some large aquarium. There a big lake-trout shoots by like a silver streak of light, or here is a school of hundreds of little fingerlings. Every stick or stone shows on the bottom as one starts out on the steamer, and as one sails along where the water is sixty or seventy feet deep. In the middle the lake's depth is fifteen hundred feet and the water is a dark indigo-blue. At the edge and along shallow places the color is bright green, as at Emerald Bay, a beautiful inlet three miles long. Lake Tahoe is twenty miles in length and about five wide, and its icy cold waters are of crystal clearness and very pure.
Fallen Leaf Lake is a smaller Tahoe, and Donner Lake, not far from Truckee, and now the camping-place of many a summer visitor, is the place where years ago the Donner overland party spent a terrible winter in the Sierra snows.
Clear Lake and the Blue Lakes in Lake County are delightful places to visit, and in this county, too, are the geysers. Some wonderful curiosities are seen here. You will find springs that spout up a stream of hot water every few minutes, mineral springs from which you can have a drink of soda water, and an acid spring that flows lemonade. Alum, iron, or sulphur waters, either hot or cold, bubble up out of the ground at every turn. At one spring you may boil an egg. Other springs are used for steam baths and also hot mud-baths. In Geyser Cañon is the strange place every sight-seer hurries to at once. Such rumblings and thunderings, such hot vapors and gases come from the cracks in the ground, that the Indians thought this was the workshop where the bad spirit which white people call the devil used to live and work. The deeper one goes into this cañon, the hotter and noisier it gets. All round are signs telling where it is dangerous to step, while the ground is hot, and boiling water runs by in little streams. Steam rises from many pools, and the sulphur smell almost chokes one. Another curious spring, called the devil's inkstand, seems full of ink. Mount St. Helena, near here, is a dead or extinct volcano, and probably there are fires in the earth under this region which keep up these steam and sulphur springs.
Many of the Sierra summits are capped with volcanic rock, and Lassen's Peak and Mount Shasta are extinct volcanoes. There are hot springs and cracks from which steam and sulphur rise on both of these mountains, and as earthquakes often shake the earth in different parts of the state we know that underground fires are still at work. A great piece of land on Mount San Jacinto in Southern California lately sank down about a hundred feet, and cracks both deep and wide show that some force from below gave a thorough shaking-up to that part of the state.
Mono, Owen's, and several other large lakes are the "sinks" into which rivers flow and lose themselves in the sandy or marshy shores. These lakes have soda or salt in their waters, and great stretches of dry alkali lands around them. The famous Death Valley is a dry lake of this kind where the sun beats down on the white alkali plain till it is almost certain death to try to cross it without a guide. The Salton Sea is a dry lake where almost pure salt is dug out, and great quantities of borax and of soda are found in other beds, of dried-up streams and lakes.