Santa Cruz County History

HISTORY OF SANTA CRUZ COUNTY, CALIFORNIA.-  E. S. Harrison, Pacific Press Publ. Co., San Francisco, 1891

CHAPTER V.

REMINISCENCES, ANECDOTE, AND INCIDENT.

TALES FROM THE ALCALDE'S RECORDS.

        MANY quaint and interesting stories have been told of Alcalde Blackburn, one of the first justices who held the scales in the early territorial history of California. At that time there were no codes nor statutes, and for some of the decisions, absolutely no precedent. I do not know if the common law of England or the laws of Spain were most prominent in the judicial mind of the early justices of this State, but in the case of Alcalde Blackburn, to whom some special reference will hereafter be made, I infer from reading his old docket that he was governed more by good sense and dictates of his own judgment, and, possibly, the old Mosaic law, than Blackstone. But among things which I have verified are the following, the first being taken verbatim from the records:

                                                                                                                                                                MAGISTRATE'S OFFICE, Nov. 27, 1847.

ALEX. RODERIQUEZ

            vs.

    CASEMDER.

        Plaintiff sued defendant, a boy, for shearing his horse. It was proved that defendant did cut the horse's tail and mane off. He was sentenced by the court to have his head shaved in front of the office.          

                                                                                                                                                                W. BLACKBURN,

                                                                                                                                                                Alcalde of Santa Cruz.

        June 16, 1848. Andreas Sunigo, breach of peace and stabbing of an Indian. For this offense he was banished from Santa Cruz for one year.

        In a misdemeanor case, the accused was found guilty, and sentenced to a number of "lashes on the bare back with the end of a reata, well put on."

        Another quaint record of this quaint old volume is where a man invokes the aid of the alcalde to compel his wife to live with him. After hearing the testimony, the alcalde's verdict was that they "should settle their own differences."

        Another interesting entry which I discovered in this old document during a cursory examination of it, is as follows, the names of the jury being omitted.

                                                                                                                                                        MAGISTRATE'S OFFICE, Santa Cruz, Feb. 10, '48.

TERRITORY OF CALIFORNIA

                    vs.

TRUEMAN TRUEMAN, Robbery. .

        Defendant accused of robbing an individual by the name of Brock. Tried by a jury. Verdict : That the prisoner immediately receive twelve lashes on his bare back, well laid on, and be banished from this jurisdiction forever; and if ever found here again, be hung by the neck until dead.           

                                                                                                                                                                   W. BLACKBURN,

                                                                                                                                                                   Alcalde of Santa Cruz.

        In the same book there is another entry, bearing date of July 19, where the accused was convicted of perjury, and punished by fifty lashes and banishment, death being the penalty if he returned.

        A story is told and vouched for by some of the old citizens, the records of which I have been unable to find, that one of the early settlers owned a garden, and his neighbor owned a pestiferous hog. The hog persisted in breaking into the garden, so that when patience had ceased to be a virtue, the owner of the garden killed the hog, and dragged it off the premises. Another person living in the vicinity, and of an economical turn of mind, concluded that it was woful waste to leave the porker to the coyotes. So he possessed himself of the defunct hog, and made it to increase the stores of his larder. The owner of the hog promptly sued the owner of the garden for damages sustained in the loss aforesaid. The facts were fully adduced before the magistrate, who, after summing up the case, conceded the right of the owner of the garden to kill the hog if it were damaging his property. He also conceded the justice of the owner's collecting the price of his hog, and in his verdict, which he considered equity, he assessed damages and costs of court against the man who ate the hog, although he was not in any wise a party to the suit.

HUMOROUS INCIDENTS IN JUDGE GAFFEY'S COURT.

        It is not necessary to revert to the early history of this county in order to find humorous incidents connected with the courts. The stories of Alcalde Blackburn, and other Santa Cruz reminiscences, have been rehabilitated, and presented in other countries and other climes, and parties and plots localized and made topical so as to suit the occasion. Perhaps fifty years from now some of the more recent happenings may have an equally wide circulation. Certain it is that a more original, more genial, or a wittier justice never presided in this county than Judge W. V. Gaffey, who is now prominently connected with the Western Beet Sugar Factory interest in Watsonville. When Gaffey presided over the justice's court at Watsonville a few years ago, he entertained a far wider regard for equity and justice than for technicalities; and if he ever missed an Irishman's opportunity to perpetrate a harmless joke, even though he were presiding at his court with becoming dignity, his friends were not aware of it.

        Among other things narrated of his witticism is the story of a case wherein the defendant was charged with violating the game law of the State, by catching young fish. Julius Lee was defending, and in cross examination of the witness said:‑

        "How do you know that the fish were young ?"

        "Because they were small," was the answer.

        "Then I suppose you would designate a minnow as a young fish."

        The witness replied that he did not know, but he presumed so.

        "Then," said Lee, with a tragic frown that would have been a credit to Junius Booth, " I presume that you would designate a whale as an old fish."

        The witness was nonplussed and unable to answer ; but the judge came to his rescue by saying, "I think I have a better way of determining when a fish is old." " What is your method of recognizing an old fish ? " said the attorney. " By the smell," replied the judge.

        At another time two Italians came to Judge Gaffey, to have him determine which one was the owner of a cow. After hearing the testimony on both sides, and viewing the marks and brand of the animal, and otherwise inspecting the property in dispute, the judge surprised the litigants by informing them that the cow was his own, having been stolen from him when a calf. He promptly took possession of the cow, and thereby settled the case.

        Two Italians had each other arrested for battery. One's thumb was nearly chewed off, and an eye of the other was in deep mourning. Another case was on trial when they came before the justice, and they were requested to appear at 2 o'clock, by which time it was supposed the case on trial would be concluded. But when 2 o'clock came the case had not been finished. The court room was crowded, the day was warm, and the justice was sitting near a raised window, when his attention was presently attracted by one of the Italians, who stepped to the window and held up his mutilated thumb. The judge motioned him away, when the other Italian stepped up and exposed his contused eye. The judge also motioned him away. The foreigners, not being well versed in sign language, supposed that the motion meant five dollars, as the hand of the justice was opened, displaying the five fingers, whereupon they each handed in through the window a five-dollar gold piece, and departed.

        Another amusing incident occurred in Judge Gaffey's court on the day when the last of a series of baseball games between the Watsonville and Hollister clubs was to be played in Watsonville. The two clubs were a tie in their struggle for the pennant, and this was to be the deciding game. The good citizens of Watsonville were thoroughly alive to the situation, and were enthusiastic for several days in anticipation of victory perching upon the banner of their club. Unfortunately, the inexorable demands of the law had necessitated the trying of a case in the justice's court upon that day. This case had been unduly prolonged by the lengthy examination of witnesses. The testimony was all in, and Julius Lee was in the midst of an impassioned address to the jury, when the faint huzzahs of citizens and the melodious notes of the brass band floated through the air and into the musty court room, where the jury sat in impatience at the length of the trial. One of the jurors was Mr. Mann, a prominent, influential, and well-to-do citizen of Watsonville. Taking advantage of a rhetorical pause in Mr. Lee's address, he arose, and tersely remarked, addressing the attorney :—

        "Julius, I wish you would cut it short. I want to see this baseball game, and I think that the balance of the jury want to see it. Besides, I've got $20 bet on our boys. The fact is, you are holding the stakes, ain't you, Bill ? "—the last remark being addressed to the court.

        His honor acknowledged the corn, and, with the consent of the attorneys, adjourned the court, permitting the bench, bar, jury, and litigants to attend the game.

JUDGE WATSON SUCCESSFULLY DEFENDS A HORSE THIEF

        One of the most interesting characters of Santa Cruz in early days was John H. Watson, after whom the town of Watsonville was named. He was a genial man,—intelligent, warm-hearted, brave, and witty; a prince in prodigality, never making an effort to collect a debt, and displaying a strikingly similar trait of character in regard to paying what he owed. If he loaned you money, he never counted it; if you loaned him money, it was equally a waste of time to count it. Possibly he imbibed something of the old Spanish custom of leaving "guests' money" in the room of the visitor. If the guest needed funds, he was supposed to help himself, and under no circumstance was this money counted after he had departed.

        But to my story of this interesting personage: Watson was an attorney at law. Sometime in the early history of this county, after California had been admitted to the sisterhood of States, a prisoner was called upon to plead to the charge of horse stealing, and when interrogated by the court, he replied that he had no attorney, and no funds with which to employ one. The court appointed Watson to defend him, whereupon that gentleman arose, and requested the privilege of consulting his client, as he knew absolutely nothing of the case. The judge granted the privilege; and, as Watson intimated that he wished only fifteen minutes' time, he did not adjourn court, or take a recess. Watson and the prisoner retired to the judge's chamber; but before they went the judge addressed the attorney, saying, "Mr. Watson, you will please advise your client what you consider the best course for him to pursue"—intimating that, as the evidence was very conclusive, the best thing for him to do would be to plead guilty, and save costs to the State.

        Fifteen minutes after Mr. Watson had retired with his client, the judge looked expectantly toward the door, but gave him five minutes of grace; and as he did not then return, he sent the bailiff in after him. To the surprise and consternation of the court and officers, nobody was to be found but Watson.

        "Where is the prisoner, Mr. Watson ?" demanded the court.

        "Your honor suggested that I should advise him to pursue what I considered the best course, and, after hearing his statement, I thought the best course he could pursue was a northeast course up the cañon. The last I saw of him he was following my advice."

SOME OF WILLIAM F. WHITE'S ANECDOTES.

        William F. White, whose prominence in politics in this State for many years made him a conspicuous feature and well known to many of the old-timers and pioneers, has written a most interesting book, entitled "Pioneer Times in California."

        Mr. White was for many years a resident of the Pajaro Valley, of Santa Cruz County. In fact, his interests were so long and intimately identified with this county that its history would be incomplete without reference to him. This reference may be found in the biographical part of this work.

        In his "Pioneer Times in California" he has related numerous incidents and anecdotes relating to Santa Cruz County. Some of these I take the liberty to use in an abridged form. I regret that limited space compels me to condense, for Mr. White's style of telling a story cannot be improved upon.

        The first story in this book which provoked my risibility has for its characters Per Lee, the first judge of the County Court of Santa Cruz, Peter Tracy, the first county clerk, and a Mr. S., a bright and effervescent young attorney. I am reliably informed by old citizens that the Mr. S. referred to is a no less distinguished personage than "Bill" Stowe, who has since become prominent in State politics, and a man of considerable importance at Fourth and Townsend Streets.

        Stowe had a case before Judge Lee, and had prepared with great care a speech to be delivered to the jury that was to decide the case. According to Mr. White, he had thoroughly rehearsed his speech, going to the seashore to declaim to the wild, wild waves. The evidence was all in, and the aspiring young attorney was in the middle of his oration, when the judge interrupted him by stating that he had an authority which he desired to consult. Quietly looking down from the bench, he said to the clerk:—

        "Peter, hand out that authority."

        Peter drew from under his desk a large demijohn and three or four glasses. The judge invited the attorneys to come up and take a little, telling Mr. Stowe that he knew he must be dry, that he overexcited both himself and the jury, and telling the other attorney that he needed some kind of consolation, as it was evident he had lost the case. The treat was general, and the jurors were invited up to "wet their whistles." After the second round the judge said to the jury:—

        "I believe, boys, you are going to give this case to Stowe."

        As the jurors all assented, he turned to George Crane, and said, "That being the case, George, there is no use pressing the matter further. It would only be a loss of time, and, besides, I see it is dinner hour."

        He informed Stowe that he could reserve the rest of his speech, and fire it at some other jury; that he thought it a pity to waste so much fine eloquence on a jury that had made up its mind.

        Frank Alzina was sheriff at that time; and, in obedience to the suggestion from him, Stowe opened a basket of champagne at the hotel for dinner. Mr. White, the narrator of the story, avers that Stowe did utilize the remainder of that speech, although he had to wait two years, when he was elected speaker of the California Assembly.

        I have heard an excellent story, in which William F. White is a prominent character. Mr. White loved a joke, and could enjoy it with great satisfaction. John Nutter was an old-time citizen of this county. He was a most excellent subject for a joke, especially such a one as I am about to relate. Nutter belonged to that large aid never diminishing class of people known as chronic office seekers. A convention had assembled in this county for the purpose of putting in the field a ticket to be voted upon at the approaching election. Nutter had announced himself as a candidate for the Assembly. It was evident that he would receive no support, as he was one of the worst kind of cranks; but by some means he had secured a proxy in the convention. Before the time for balloting, Mr. White very adroitly circulated among the members of the convention, telling each one that it would be a good idea to let the old man down easily, and give him a complimentary vote upon the first ballot. This was readily agreed to; so that when the time arrived for nominations Mr. White arose, and, in a very able and masterly effort, placed before the convention the name of that "tried, true, sterling," etc., Mr. John Nutter, as a candidate for nomination for member of the Assembly. The result of the ballot was as the joker had anticipated: Mr. Nutter was the unanimous choice of the convention. This was a dilemma from which the convention managed to extricate itself through the quick wit and presence of mind of their chairman, who arose, and, in a very dignified and impressive manner, said:—

        "Gentlemen of the convention, Mr. John Nutter has received nearly the unanimous informal vote of this convention. We will now proceed to the formal ballot, and it will give me great pleasure to find that Mr. Nutter retains the great strength which he has developed on the informal ballot."   

        The chairman, of course, knew that someone had been tampering with the delegates. Nutter also knew that the ruling of the chairman was not parliamentary, and protested, in a vehement speech, against such an action, but the chairman was immovable, asserting that such was the mode of procedure in Massachusetts. In those days it was customary, as there were no California precedents, to refer to the customs of one's native State. The chairman of this convention was from Massachusetts, and vehemently averred that this was the method of doing these things in that State. Another vote was taken. This ballot developed the astounding result of but one vote for Nutter. It being the formal ballot, the candidate receiving the largest number of votes was declared to be the nominee, and, in the language of modern slang, Nutter "wasn't in it."

        After the result had been declared, Mr. White walked over to Nutter, and, extending his hand in condolence, said:—

        "Too bad, old man! They went back on us, but I stood by you to the last." "What," said Nutter, " do you pretend to say you voted for me on the last ballot ?" "Certainly I do. Did you not receive one vote ? That was mine."

        "You lie, sir, because I voted for myself."

JOHNNIE JAMES AND OLD POTTER.

        Sometime during the '50s there lived in Watsonville a couple of old characters, one known as Johnnie James and the other as Old Potter. They lived together, batched, did odd jobs at odd times, from the proceeds of which they supplied their meager wants, living or existing without an aspiration or a desire that could not be gratified by daily rations and potations. They were well known in the community. Finally, in the course of events, Johnnie James' sands of life ran out. He died: There were no flags at half mast, no tolling funeral bells, no manifestation of public sorrow. But even after his death, while some of the boys were discussing the disappearance of this well-known character from the stage of action, it was suggested that a decent respect for the feelings of a fellow-man, be he ever so low, should compel some of them to go down to the shanty where the deceased had lived and relieve the loneliness of Old Potter's vigil beside his dead boon companion. In accordance with this suggestion a short time afterwards several members of the party were at the door of the house of death. They were surprised that no light shone through the windows or cracks of the building. The place was as dark and still as the grave. Repeated raps at the door, after a brief period of waiting, brought Old Potter to the entrance. He was partly dressed and gave evidence of having just arisen from sleep. He invited the visitors into the only room in the building, and lit a light, which revealed the dead man lying on the further side of the bed from which Potter had just arisen. The situation was so apparent that one of the visitors said:--

        "Why, Potter, you wasn't in bed with the corpse, was you ?"

        "Of course I was. You didn't suppose I was going to sleep on the floor, did you?"

        "But weren't you afraid to sleep with him?"

        "H—l, no! I wasn't afraid of him when he was alive, why should I be afraid of him now when he is dead ?"

AN EARLY GAME OF MONTE.

        "In ye olden times" of this county, gambling was a favorite pastime, and as a truthful and impartial historian I dare not write that it has now fallen into innocuous desuetude. But times and conditions have changed. The old-school gambler, like the pioneers and many early landmarks, is rapidly disappearing. He has either died, failed to keep up with the procession in the way of gamblers' inventions, appliances, and tricks, or else has become disgusted with the slick box loaded dice, or marked cards used by the modern knight of the green cloth.

        Residing in this county are several well-to-do and very respectable gentlemen, prominent in business and social circles, who "rolled 'em high" in the '50s. One of these gentlemen is George Dennison, of Boulder, whose experiences as narrated by himself have entertained and amused audiences by the hour. Among other stories that I have heard him relate, is the following:---

        "When the Mexican miners from the New Almaden mine received their pay, they would come to Santa Cruz to gamble, spend their money, and have a good time. On such occasions a friend would supply the money and I would deal monte. We generally succeeded in getting most of the coin from the miners, but I observed that I always got the small end of the divvy. I concluded that, inasmuch as I was doing all the work and taking all the chances, I would provide myself with capital, and on the occasion of the next visit of the New Almaden miners, I would open a game from which I would obtain all the profits. Accordingly, on the next gala occasion of the native population, I was on hand with a monte lay-out. This consisted of my handkerchief, upon which I had placed several hundred dollars, the money of the bank, and the cards. The game was in progress, the room was full of Mexicans, dancing, singing, smoking cigarettes, and eating tomales.

        "Knowing well the Mexican character, I had, before going into the room, taken off my coat, and, wrapping it around my revolver, secreted them under the fence. A Mexican may browbeat you, but he is not liable to kill you, if you are unarmed, and I knew that my chances with the crowd were much better if I had no weapons on me. I was having quite a streak of luck, when a young Spaniard made a large bet, and called for the cards to deal them himself. Just at this juncture an old desperado in the crowd, by the name of Chamalla, reached over, and, grabbing the handkerchief by its four corners, and emphasizing the action with a Spanish oath, deliberately appropriated the wealth. What could I do? I was unarmed, and if I had tried to raise a row about it, I would have been knocked down and dragged out. So I stood around for a while, feeling sort of idiotic, and sneaked out. I went to the fence where I had hidden my gun, and while buckling it on and putting on my coat, I observed the door of the room open, and saw old Chamalla coming out, with the handkerchief in his hand. As the night was dark, he failed to see me, and started to walk along as nonchalantly as you please, past where I was standing. When he got near enough, I hit him on the head with my revolver. The blow laid him out as stiff as a board, and I very carefully picked up the money which he had owned for so short a time. Of course I got away from there in a great hurry. Next day old Chamalla was nursing a sore head, and while he did not know that I was the cause of it, he no doubt suspected me, for when he saw me, his expression indicated that he would like to eat me up, and, muttering 'Chingaro Americana' he walked away."

FELIPE GONZALES AND THE "PATHFINDER."

        Don Felipe Gonzales was born in Santa Cruz, in 1824. He is now a well-known character of the Pajaro Valley, and, while no longer the supple and agile vaquero that he was when the Americanos were attracted here by the discovery of gold, he is blessed with a most excellent memory, and is wonderfully entertaining when relating, in his peculiar, vivid style, the happenings and incidents of early times. A pen description of his tales cannot do the subject justice. The phonograph is the only way to preserve the stories of Don Felipe Gonzales.

        When the "Pathfinder" was in this vicinity, Don Felipe Gonzales visited his camp. He was nicely treated, and his keen observation took in every detail. Among other things which he noticed, and which filled him with admiration, was the wonderful marksmanship of Fremont's soldiers. Later when there was a demand for troops to go against Fremont, an effort was made to press Don Felipe into service, but, like the negro who was exhorted to select the narrow or the broad road, he concluded to "take for the woods," and thus avoid impressment into military service. In relating the incident he said:‑--

        "Me see Fremont's men shoot one hundred, two hundred yards; hit little tree no bigger than my arm. Me no want to be target for such men, besides me think commandante California army no like me,—want to get me killed, because me sweet on his girl."

ONE NIGHT IN A BARROOM.

        The winter rains had fairly set in; for two weeks there had been a steady downpour; the creeks that a short time previous were dry were now running full, and torrents of water were coming from the mountains and rushing with great velocity, filling up the various ravines and creeks, rendering them for a time impassable. Work was pretty much suspended, and about all of the population were assembled at the only tavern in the place. Some had cabins of their own, but preferred to be in good company and enjoy themselves in a friendly game of cards and other amusements, this being the year 1852. Many of the guests were dead broke or nearly so; some had only arrived a few days preceding the storm.

        In these days it was not considered so much of a crime as at present to be "busted." The latch of the humble cabin was always unfastened, and the traveler was afforded as good accommodations as his host possessed. It was necessary, however, that his guest should provide his own blankets: in fact, no one traveled without them; and he was not classed as a tramp. Neither at the tavern was anyone asked for a deposit, but food and shelter were given, trusting to the good luck of the boarder to pay. Whatever sins may be laid at the door of the pioneers, inhospitality was not in the catalogue.

        Rather a motley crowd was snugly ensconced around the fireplace of this house of entertainment on one evening. In one corner of the room was a poker game; in another portion were some discussing the latest news from the East, news over a month old; a fiddler, said to have been once a preacher, was sawing out music, and two little boys were dancing for the amusement of the crowd. As children were rather a curiosity at this time, they attracted considerable attention, and were rewarded by a liberal contribution. I would remark, en passant, that no revolvers or bowie knives were visible; there were no shots fired with or without provocation; in fact, the entire assembly were apparently a peaceable set. The "man for breakfast" was not laid out. At this particular period there were very few wanton killings; perhaps the weather was too gloomy to indulge in this sort of amusement. No disputes occurred over the game of poker. There was considerable badinage going on over the game, but all ended amicably.

        At another table sat three or four men, rather quiet and unobtrusive. One of them produced a book, a "Carmina Sacra," that was used very much in singing school "way down East" at this period, and started an old familiar hymn, in which the others joined. This rather unexpected performance caused the players to pause in their game, and one of them joined in with a rich bass voice. Probably the old tune had reminded him of other days, days of his youth, before he had mingled in the world and been rebuffed. Teddy Roe, other name unknown, had in the first part of the evening favored the company with some comic songs, but this hymn business had broken him up, so to speak. The games and the singing went on; no one was disturbed. Old Major Dickson, the Texan Ranger, tried to beat the barkeeper out of a drink, but did not succeed. One of the players at the poker game was old Cram, an original character, a native of one of the New England States, who had wandered through nearly every State in the Union, and had reached as far west as he could get. Old Cram was very peculiar and odd, shaved one whisker and left the other on his face, so as to be different from his fellows, had a bitter tongue, and used it freely, and seemed to take a special delight in tantalizing those who were raised south of Mason & Dixon's line. Those who were acquainted with his peculiarities paid no attention to his taunts, and good-naturedly overlooked his biting sarcasm, and wound up by taking a drink together, which was a sort of peace offering.

        Old Cram indulged so much in his peculiar stream of invective that he considered himself a privileged character. His vagaries were tolerated until about 1861, when, during a discussion one evening, he gave vent to his feelings rather strongly, probably fortified with a little Bourbon, and made some reflection on the mother of a man who was, comparatively speaking, an entire stranger to him. The result was that Old Cram was stabbed through the heart, and his tongue was silenced forever. No one regretted the act, and no effort was made to bring the perpetrator to justice. Interment private; no flowers.

        In several portions of the county for many years there were bullies who claimed "to run the town." Fortified with whisky, they were very brave, but have all met their well-deserved fate. About the last of this class performed a meritorious act by killing each other in an impromptu duel, at which both fired simultaneously and both were killed, to the relief of the community. This method of extermination was commended; there was a coroner's inquest and a funeral; no long, wearisome trial before the courts was necessary in this last episode. The friends of either combatant had no cause of complaint; no feud was engendered, and no unpleasant results followed the taking off of this couple. The rest of the community went on the even tenor of their way. The brawls and disputes of this type were confined to a few. The towns and villages of the county were as orderly and quiet as any of the New England towns, and freer from those atrocious crimes that too often occur in the East.—ED. MARTIN.

QUAINT AND CURIOUS CHARACTERS.

        The compiler of this work asked for a description of original and quaint characters. There were many men of peculiar characteristics, men whose traits of character were more marked than those of others; yet we have never succeeded in meeting any Major Starbottles, Jack Oakhurst, or any other creatures of the Bret Harte school. We believe that those characters were on a par with the stage Yankee or stage Irishman, never seen except in front of the footlights.

        But there is one rather romantic incident in the life of one individual in this county, who succeeded for a number of years in masquerading under a disguise that was not discovered until death revealed the true state of affairs.

        In the old stage days a seat by the driver was considered the post of honor, and eagerly sought for by the traveler. One had a better view from the seat, at least it was supposed so, and came as it were into confidential relations with the driver, had the satisfaction of hearing the driver's experience over mountain roads, the hair-breadth escapes, anecdotes of distinguished men who had sat on the box with him and whom he had entertained. The driver of the days of stage traveling was a very important personage.

        On the stage line between Santa Cruz and Watsonville, in the '50s, was a driver who rejoiced in the name of "Cross-eyed Charley." He was a man about forty years old, rather short in stature, lame in one leg, and having but one eye gave him rather a peculiar appearance; the absence of any beard, save a very little on his upper lip, a falsetto voice, a face rather repulsive on first acquaintance, altogether comprised a make­up of such a character as to be remembered. Charley drove stage for some years, used the language of "the knights of the whip," swore at his horses as the occasion demanded, took his "nip" at all the stopping-places, carried the United States mail, conveyed messages from one settlement to another on his route, performed his duties faithfully, and was a general favorite on the road. Becoming tired of handling the reins, he started a half-way house, "refreshments for man and beast," took care of the relay of stage horses, bought twenty-five acres of land on the Calabasas, and apparently settled down on his own ranch.

        In 1879 Charley sold his ranch and went to live in a cabin on a ranch owned by some of his friends, lived alone, avoided people as much as possible, took sick in 1879, and passed to the other side. While the kindly offices of the dead were being performed, and the body prepared for burial, it was ascertained that "Cross-eyed Charley" belonged to the softer sex. In other words, Charley, the old stage driver, was a woman. Why this disguise, for a number of years successfully carried out, had been assumed was beyond conjecture. The strange story was circulated very extensively. Enterprising reporters devoted a column or two, and made up quite a romantic history of the soi desant, Charley Parkhurst, the female stage driver. The Eastern papers took up the narrative and embellished the same with a story of a fair, golden-haired maiden in New Hampshire becoming disappointed in love, and, leaving her native State, wandering forth disguised in the habiliments of the sterner sex.

        Her identity was pretended to have been established, but we think not. No evidence was ever presented tending that way. Charley had preserved his secret carefully, and it was buried with him. No heirs or legatees ever made any inquiries or endeavored to make any claims to the little property left by the deceased, hence it is safe to say that the mystery of Charley Parkhurst's life will remain unsolved, and pass through history like the man in the iron mask or the gentleman who struck "Billy Patterson." On the great register of the county is found the name of Charley Darkey Parkhurst; nativity, New Hampshire; age, fifty-five; occupation, farmer; date of registration, 1867.  Charley evidently exercised the right of an American citizen, and voted in spite of the law that deprives the gentler sex of the right to vote.—ED. MARTIN.

SOME FIRST EVENTS.

        The Bay of Monterey was first discovered by Vizcaino, December 16, 1602, although in 1542 a daring navigator by the name of Roderiquez Cabrillo sailed along the coast, and has left a record of the topography and general features of the country visible from the ocean.

        The first redwood trees were discovered in the fall of 1769 in the vicinity of where Watsonville now stands. They were discovered by the Portola expedition searching for the port of Monterey. Father Crespi kept the diary from which the record is taken, and noted the fact that "these trees are unlike anything ever seen in Spain," and because of the color of the bark, he named them "Pala Colorado."

        The first stone of the Santa Cruz Mission was laid February 27, 1793. The dedication took place March 10, 1794.

        The Fathers, Alonzo Salar and Baldomero Lopez, arrived on the site of the mission and pitched their tents September 25, 1791.

        The first grants of ranches in this county were made in 1833; San Andreas ranch, to Joaquin Castro; Aptos ranch, to Rafael Castro; Soquel ranch, to Martino Castro; Calabassa ranch, to Philip Hernandez.

        The first white traders who visited Santa Cruz came to purchase hides and tallow. That was during the mission period, and the rapid growth and development of the mission and increase of stock made an overplus of these articles, which were to traders. These were the first export products of California.

        The first mill of Santa Cruz County was erected on Zayante Creek by Isaac Graham, in 1842.

        The first tanyard was established by Paul Sweet in Scott's Valley, in 1843. Joseph L. Majors built the first flour mill in Scott's Valley, about the same time. The first schooner was built in Santa Cruz in 1846, and called the Santa Cruz.

        William Blackburn caused to be constructed another schooner in 1848; it was named the Zack Taylor.

        William Blackburn was the first Santa Cruz judge.

        The first Protestant worship was held in the house of John D. Green in August, 1847.

        In 1841, near Santa Cruz, Davis & Jordan burned the first lime ever made in the State.

        In 1848 Elihu Anthony established the first foundry in Santa Cruz, and one of the first in the State. In the same year he made the first cast-iron plows and mining picks ever made in California.

        J. A. Blackburn was the first man to farm in Blackburn Gulch, in 1856.

        Judge Blackburn planted the first apple orchard in Santa Cruz. The first fruit from this orchard sold for fifteen cents a pound.

        James Waters shipped the first crate of strawberries from Watsonville to San Francisco.

        The first Pajaro school was established in 1853. Dr. Cannon and C. K. Ercanback were the trustees. At that time the district comprised the entire Pajaro Valley.

        The first school in Santa Cruz was established by Mrs. Case, in 1848, at her residence in Santa Cruz.

        May 1, 1890, the first car passed over the East Santa Cruz Railway.

        The electric railway was opened November 25, 1891.

        The first presidential election was held in this county in 1852; at that time there were three election precincts: Santa Cruz, Soquel, and Pajaro. The polling-place of Pajaro Valley precinct was then four miles from where Watsonville now is. In 1891 there were thirty-three precincts in the county.

        Samuel L. Comstock sent the first telegraphic message from Watsonville. It was in 1860. It was sent to San Francisco, and the tolls were $1.50.

        When the Watsonville post office was made a money order office, the first money order was issued to Emeline R. Martin.

        Luke Thrift built one of the first hotels in Watsonville, remarking, "If there is any town at all, it will be right thar."

        Pajaro King was the first white child born in Pajaro Valley.

        The first "gringo" marriage in the Pajaro Valley occurred in 1852, the contracting parties being Mr. Stockton and Miss Lynn, daughter of Walter Lynn.

THE FIRST POLL LIST.

Following is the poll and result of the first election held in Santa Cruz County, on the first Monday in April, 1850:---

        Of the two hundred and thirteen votes cast at this election the various candidates received as follows:---

FOR CLERK OF THE SUPREME COURT.

William E. Shannon - 131    

William G. Marcy - 74

Isaac Graham - 1  

FOR DISTRICT ATTORNEY.

A. C. Campbell - 160          

F. H. Sanford - 24 

Isaac Graham - 3 

Abram De Long - 1        

FOR COUNTY JUDGE.

William Blackburn - 155       

John Barton - 54     

Peter Tracy - 1    

Eli Moore - 1       

FOR COUNTY CLERK.

Peter Tracy - 131    

George Parsons - 77          

FOR COUNTY ATTORNEY.

Abram De Long - 192

FOR COUNTY SURVEYOR.

E. B. Kellogg - 183

FOR SHERIFF.

Francisco Alzina - 125

24 James Gordon - 86       

FOR RECORDER.

C. P. Stevenson - 199

J. F. Pinkham - 2

--- McLain - 1

FOR ASSESSOR.

J. Hammond - 121

Thomas Walker  - 89

FOR TREASURER.

L. Majors - 203

FOR CORONER.

Henry Speels - 145   

Robert King - 58   

A. A. Hecox - 1  

FOR TOWN COUNCILMEN.

L. B. Clements - 119

C. Schultz - 52

        The above is certified to as correct by A. A. Hecox, inspector; John Hames and Manuel Rodriguez, judges; and Peter Tracy and Alexander McLean, clerks.

OFFICERS OF SANTA CRUZ COUNTY FROM 1850 to  1891.

1874-76

C. D. Thomas, R.

1876-78

Henry Rice, D.

1878-80

George Pace, D.

1880-82

Elihu Anthony, D.

1882-86

Lucien Heath, R.

1886-88

J. F. Cunningham, D.

1886-88

Joseph A. Hall, D.

1888-90

W. H. Galbraith, R.

JOINT SENATOR.

1880-84

W. J. Hiel.

COUNTY JUDGE.

1850

William Blackburn, W.

1851-54

T. R. Per Lee, D.

1854-58

Henry Rice, D.

1858-62

G. M. Bockius, R.

1862-64

R. F. Peckham, R.

1864-68

A. W. Blair, R.

1868-72

Albert Hagan, D.

1872-74

E. H. Heacock, R.

1875

F. J. McCann, R.

1876-80

A. Craig, D.

1880-85

J. H. Logan, R.

1885-91

F. J. McCann, R.

DISTRICT ATTORNEY.

1850-51

Abram De Long, W.

1852

H. Richardson, D.

1853-56

R. F. Peckham, W.

1856-58

J. H. Coult, W.

1858-60

 J. H. Skirm, W.

1860-64

 J. P. Stearns, R.

1864-66

Edmund Pugh, R.

1866-68

B. F. Bailey, R.

1868-72

Julius Lee, R.

1872-74

J. H. Logan, R.

1874-76

A. Craig, D.

1876-80

J. H. Logan, R.

1880-82

W. D. Storey, R.

1882-84

 J. A. Hall, D.

1884-90

W. T. Jeter, D.

1890-92

C. E. Lindsay, R.

SHERIFF.

1850-54

Frank Alzina, D.

1854-56

L. G. Caldwell, D.

1856-58

0. K. Stampley, D.

1858-62

John T. Porter, R.

1862-64

Charles. Kemp, D.

1864-66

A. Calderwood, D.

1866-68

Robert Jones, R.

1868-70

C. H. Lincoln, D.

1870-72

A. L. Rountree, D.

1872-80

Robert Orton, R.

1880-88

Elmer Dakan, D.

1888-91

A. J. Jennings, R.

COUNTY CLERK.

1850-56

Peter Tracy, D.

1856-58

I. C. Wilson, W.

1858-60

J. F. J. Bennett, R.

1860-66

D. J. Haslam, R.

1866-68

T. T. Tidball, D.

1868-70

H. H. Hobbs, D.

1870-74

Albert Brown, R.

1874-85

H. E. Makinney, R.

1885-91

Ed Martin, R.

AUDITOR AND RECORDER.

1850-56

Peter Tracy, D.

1856-58

I. C. Wilson, W.

1858-60

J. F. J. Bennett; R.

1860-66

D. J. Haslan, R.

1866-68

T. T. Tidball, D.

1868-70

H. H. Hobbs, D.

1870-74

Albert Brown, R.

1874-85

H. E. Makinney, R.

1885-91

Ed Martin.

COUNTY TREASURER.

1850-53

J. L. Majors, D.

1853-54

George W. Crane, W.

1854-56

Elihu Anthony, D.

1856-60

N. H. Stockton, D.

1860-62

O. K. Stampley, D.

1862-64

A. A. Heacock, R.

1864-66

S. W. Field, R.

1866-68

F. E. Bailey, R.

1868-70

S. A. Bartlett, D.

1870-72

S. W. Blakely, R.

1872-76

A. R. Meserve, R.

1876-80

George Otto, D.

1880-88

Charles Steinmetz, D.

1888-90

William Bias, R.

COUNTY ASSESSOR.

1850-51

G. Hammond, D.

1851-52

Charles Hoff, W.

1852-54

A. P. Sanford, D.

1854-55

N. Gordon, D.

1855-58

T. M. Davis, D.

1858-59

O. K. Stampley, D.

1859-60

M. V. Bennett, D.

1860-62

M. V. Bennett, D.

1862-72

Nelson Taylor, R.

1872-80

Charles R. Hoff, R.

1880-84

F. K. Aston, D.

1884-90

T. V. Mathews, D.

1890-91

F. Mattison, R.

SURVEYOR.

1880-90

T. W. Wright.

1891

E. D. Perry.

NOMENCLATURE.

        The subject of nomenclature has always possessed a great fascination for me, and nowhere can be found such a field for its study as here in California. How many people there are who speak many of the sweet and musical names of places in California, without knowing or even inquiring into their meaning. One of the first things that impresses the visitor is the beauty of California names, and their meaning is as interesting as the names are beautiful. Every saint in the calendar is thrice honored by some city, village, hamlet, stream, ranch, or locality, and there are other names, Spanish, of course, with beautiful legends connected with them, there are names suggestive of locality or some important event connected with the discovery of the locality, names indicating general characteristics; but nearly all of the names selected during the mission period of California are in honor of some saint, and are significant as well as musical, like San Mateo, Santa Cruz, San Lorenzo, San Francisco, San Diego, Santa Barbara, and San and Santa ad infinitum.

        California is distinguished on the maps by three different names,—California, New Albion, and Isles Carolinas,—but the most ancient is California, being found in the account of the expedition of Cortez, by Bernal Diaz de Castillo. Venegas has said:‑--

        "Nor can I subscribe to the etymology of some writers, who suppose this name to have been given it by some Spaniards on their feeling unusual heat at their first landing and hence calling the country California, a compound of two Latin words, calida fornax, a hot furnace. I am inclined to think that the name owed its origin to some accident, possibly to some words spoken by the Indians, and misunderstood by the Spaniards, as happened, according to a very learned American, in the naming of Peru."

        This county's name is derived from the old mission, the word "Santa Cruz" being the Spanish of "Holy Cross."

        Branciforte, the name applied to that part of "Santa Cruz" on the east side of the river, perpetuates the name of a vice regent of Mexico, Major Branciforte.

        The Pajaro River was named by the Portola expedition in 1789. Pajaro is Spanish, signifying bird. There have been a number of narratives published in regard to how the name came to be applied to this river and valley. One of these, and the true one, is that the Portola expedition here found an immense bird stuffed with hay and for that reason named the river Pajaro. In Father Crespi's diary of the Portola expedition, under the date of October 8, 1769, he tells of stopping on the banks of this river. A strange bird attracted their attention, measuring eleven palms from tip to tip of its wings, and resembling a king eagle. It was stuffed with zacate, dry grass. For this reason, remarks the historian of the first party of white men to visit this section, the soldiers of the expedition called the stream Rio del Pajaro, the river of the bird. Father Crespi adds to his diary that he has named the stream after, Senora Santa Ana. It was customary with this expedition and subsequent ones for the priest to bestow a scriptural or saint's name and the soldiers some other name upon places discovered.

        Pajaro Valley was called the Bolsa del Pajaro. Bolsa is usually translated to mean pocket, but literally its signification in English is a small valley surrounded by hills. The appropriateness of this title is apparent to anyone who has seen the Pajaro Valley.

        Sal-si-puedes is the name of a stream which flows through the Pajaro Valley, and means, "Get out if you can." This expression is a Spanish way of addressing an inferior or servant. In polite Spanish one would say, "Salga si usted pueda." Of a number of stories of the origin of the name of this stream, the following is most probably true: A hated gringo in attempting to cross the stream in the winter-time, when it was swollen and filled with shifting quicksands, had a narrow escape with his life, and soliciting help from the Californians on the shore, was greeted with the remark, 'Sal si puedes." .

        Corralitos is the name of another river and small valley in this end of the county, and, literally, signifies a number of small inclosures. It is a few miles north of Watsonville, and in early days a part of this valley was covered with redwood trees. These trees grow in clusters of five or six or more, but in this valley in a number of places they grew in a sort of circle, something like the palisades of a stockade, leaving a bare or grassy spot between them of from twenty to two or three hundred feet in diameter It was these places that suggested little corrals and caused the place to be named Corralitos.

        Calabasas is the name of a large rancho in the southern end of the county, and signifies calabash, or water gourd, and derived its name from a sort of water gourd which grew on the place.

        Soquel is an Indian name, the origin of which is unknown. E. L. Williams informs me that the first record of its use, so far as he has been able to learn, was about in the year 1808, when an officer in the Spanish army reported that a native woman had stolen something and fled to Soquel.

        Zayante, improperly spelled Zyante, is an Indian term, origin lost.

        San Andreas means Holy Andrew. It is the name of a ranch between Aptos and Watsonville. Many people mistake the signification of San and Santa, and think it saint. By a literal translation this interpretation may be used, but in a strict translation the rendering would be holy.

        The San Lorenzo River was named by the Portola expedition, the name meaning Holy Lawrence. It was discovered on St. Lawrence's day.

        The Carbonero Rancho is immediately north of Santa Cruz. Carbonero means a charcoal maker. Why it should have been named this it is difficult now to understand, for the people of that time did not require any charcoal here. It is possible that the grantee was a smutty or dirty sort of a fellow, who looked like a charcoal maker, hence the name.

        Boulder Creek was named by the Americans. Anyone who has seen the many bowlders in the bed of this creek will readily understand the significance of the name.

RODEO ON THE THOMPSON RANCH.

        The mines were a distinguishing feature of pioneer times. We naturally associate mining with the days of '49, and a historic emblem of California is the miner with pick, shovel, and rocker. This emblem is appropriate for the northern and other parts of the State, where mining was the chief industry of the early days, but Santa Cruz never was a mining county. Before the days of agriculture and the more recent ones of horticulture, it was designated by the expressive if not euphonious appellation of a "cow county." A red-shirted miner with his accouterments is as much out of place as an emblem of this county as a high-collared, brainless dude. The predominating feature of a "cow county" in the early days was the annual round-up of cattle or rodeo. In these bucolic regions the cow boy occupied the place of a miner.

        In the '50s some of these rodeos were very important events. Several cattle owners possessing contiguous ranches would have one grand round-up, in which the cattle would be separated, branded, and a general inventory made of possessions. This feature of early days, the rodeo, is rapidly becoming a matter of history. The agriculturist and horticulturist are encroaching upon the cattle ranches, and fields of waving grain, orchards of luscious fruits, give employment to and support many people where previously sustenance was obtained only for a hundred steers. Hence when an opportunity was offered me to witness a rodeo scene, perhaps of not so much importance, but possessing all the characteristics, of similar old-time events, I accepted with alacrity.

        The Thompson ranch was to be the scene of this to me interesting event. The ranch comprises three thousand three hundred acres of land in the valley, foothills, and adjacent mountains east of Watsonville. On the occasion in question, in company with a friend, during the hours of the morning I drove toward the farm. Passing beyond the limits of Watsonville one enters a thickly-populated country, with numerous orchards, gardens, and well-tilled small fields, attesting the intelligence of, and prosperity attending, the owners of the same. The mountains which skirt the valley to the eastward are brown through lack of rain, as the summer is well advanced. At their base is a grove of live oak trees, in which can be seen a large white house, situated on an eminence which commands a view of the valley. The place from a distance looks wonderfully cool and inviting, and is in strong contrast to the dusty roads, fields of hay, and russet color of the hills beyond. This is the objective point of our trip. Behind the arboreal verdure a cloud of dust can be seen, for the cattle are in the corral, and the work of the day has evidently commenced. Arriving at the place, the first thing with which I am impressed is the holiday appearance of everything. Numerous teams attached to buggies and other vehicles are hitched at different places around the premises, and in the shade of the grand old oaks are a large number of people, mostly women and children, and, had I not been otherwise informed, I should have inferred that it was a picnic occasion, but the noise and tumult from the corral a short distance from the residence were evidences that the cattle, did not consider it a picnic. Arriving there I found a large part of the corral fence covered with interested spectators—old­timers who had come to revive the memories of long ago, and tenderfeet like myself, who were impelled by curiosity to see something they had never before witnessed.

        The performance was in full blast. I designate it performance, for such it was to me, as would have been a Roman chariot race. In one corner of the corral a fire burned brightly, and in it the branding irons were being heated. A dozen vaqueros on mounts of various character, with coiled reatas in hand, great spurs jingling at their heels, and sitting in high-pommeled saddles, as though they were parts of the horses which they bestrode, performed various feats of horsemanship as they galloped around the corral in pursuit of some yearling that had been "cut- out " from the herd to undergo the ordeal of branding and marking. While in full gallop for a moment the lariat was circled in the air, and with unerring precision the big noose would fall over some part of the fleeing animal; in a moment it would be thrown to the ground, and ruthlessly dragged toward the fire. Another rope would be dropped over another part of the animal, and the two ropes held taut in opposite directions would keep the poor brute on the ground while someone would take the branding iron and dexterously burn a brand into it, and whack off some part of its ears, making its future identity unquestionable. All of this was done in an almost incredible short space of time.

        But what impressed me, and gave zest and interest to the occasion, was the facial expression of, and seeming satisfaction experienced by, several old Californians, who were among the vaqueros. One of them in particular was over seventy years of age, dark and grim-visaged, small piercing black eyes, broad features, but with hair and beard as white as those of a patriarch. How memories of olden times must have been awakened in his brain ! There was such a look of quiet satisfaction and unassumed pleasure on his strong and striking countenance that my eyes followed him as he rode, as gaily as the youngest, among the herd, and I also noticed when his reata whizzed in the air he did not have occasion to again coil it, until after the branding iron had settled the account with its victim. As I watched him, faithfully were recalled to my mind the pictures of the Centaur I had seen when a boy. He is a relict of bygones, and belongs to a class that will be extinct when the rodeo becomes a thing of the past; and yet this man, now poor, was once the owner of thousands of acres and many thousand head of stock. He has given place to others, perhaps not superior to him, but possessing those qualities of push and energy which have converted the cattle ranch into grain-fields and orchards.

        There were assembled here all the vaqueros in the neighborhood, and, notwithstanding the fact that the work was very laborious and tiresome both to man and horse, they seemed to enjoy it, and during breathing spells would stimulate with a little aqua caliente. At noon a bounteous lunch was served, consisting of barbecued meat, and various kinds of edibles and drinkables. Some of the old-timers; non-participants in the labors of the day, became merry and mellow, and good nature and jollity prevailed to such an extent as to again suggest the first impression which the scene had formed in my mind, that of a picnic. What I have left unsaid about this incident may be read in the engraving of scenes in the corral from photographs taken on this occasion, and published in this book.

JOURNALISM IN SANTA CRUZ COUNTY.

        Journalism in Santa Cruz has not been marked by any particularly eventful or tragical incidents. There have been newspaper wars and imbroglios, misunderstandings and difficulties, but there never has been "a newspaper man for breakfast." As a homicide is almost invariably the result of personal journalism, it must be that this county has escaped a most disagreeable and disgraceful feature of the newspaper business.

        I trust my brothers of the quill will not think I am trying to work them for something, if I take advantage of this opportunity to say that the newspapers of Santa Cruz County are ably conducted, clean, filled with well-written matter, pertaining largely to subjects of local importance, and above and beyond all devoted to the upbuilding and welfare of the county and the communities in which they are published. I know that some of the newspaper men of this county are esteemed by members of the fraternity in other parts of the State, as the peer of the ablest of the profession, and were it not that I do not desire to be invidious, I would be glad to be more explicit, as newspaper men who spend much of their time, especially just preceding the election, telling of the merits of their fellow-men, seldom hear anything of themselves. The editor of this volume is indebted to all the papers of this county, and is honored in possessing the friendship of the editors of all the Santa Cruz County papers. From each he has received substantial recognition of the work in which he has been engaged for the past two years. Space in a newspaper is the publisher's stock in trade. It is his equivalent for money, and as it has been freely given to me, I cannot do less than offer in exchange such historical facts connected with journalism here as I have been able to collate:

        The Santa Cruz Sentinel was the first paper established in this county. It was established in Monterey, June 2, 1855, as the Pacific Sentinel, and was moved to Santa Cruz a year later and the name changed to the Santa Cruz Sentinel. John McElroy, a soldier of the Mexican War, was its editor and publisher. Mr. McElroy is now living and an inmate of the Soldiers' Home in Yountville, in this State. The paper was a six-column, four-page weekly; subscription, $5.00 a year. McElroy sold out in 1863 to Hyde, Cummings & Hecox. In 1864 Duncan McPherson purchased an interest and conducted the paper in connection with B. P. Kooser. In 1865 McPherson bought out Kooser's interest and conducted the paper until he sold out to J. H. Hoadley. In 1876 the paper passed into the hands of Duncan McPherson and Charles W. Waldron, the present proprietors. The Daily Sentinel was first issued in 1884. The paper is now published as a daily, semiweekly, and weekly. The daily is a nine-column folio, and is Republican in politics.

        The Santa Cruz News was established August 24, 1859, by William N. Slocum. It was an independent abolition paper, but died in early childhood, aged one year.

        The Santa Cruz Daily and Weekly Surf is owned by the Surf Publishing Co., and conducted by A. A. Taylor. Its age dates from June 3, 1883, but its history really began with the Local Item, which was established as a weekly paper in Santa Cruz, in 1875, by H. Coffin, and the Courier, founded in Santa Cruz, in 1876, by H. C. Patrick and Greene Majors. These two papers were purchased in 1880 by A. A. Taylor, consolidated and published as the Courier-Item, the first issue of the consolidated journal appearing March 3, 1880. Upon the 3rd of June, 1883, the first number of the Daily Surf was issued from the Courier-Item office. It was a four-column, four-page publication. It was not intended that it should be a permanent institution, and its publisher did not anticipate running it longer than the summer season, when Santa Cruz was filled with visitors and unusually active, but it met with greater success than was anticipated, and when the busy season of Santa Cruz was at an end, the Daily Surf was on a permanent footing, and has become one of the fixtures of the place. It has gradually increased in size and patronage until it is now an eight-column quarto, having the exclusive franchise of the morning Associated Press dispatches. The Courier-Item appeared as a weekly until 1889, when the Daily Surf had attained such size and importance that it was deemed advisable to change the name of the weekly and call it the Surf. It is an independent Democratic paper.

        The Record was the name of a paper started in Santa Cruz in 1873. It had a brief existence.

        In 1889 Johnson. & Co. started a daily called the Sea Breeze; it died in six weeks.

        The Pajaro Valley Times was started in Watsonville in 1863 by Messrs. Kearney, McQuillan & Duchow. It was moved to Santa Cruz in 1867, and after ten years of life was absorbed by the Santa Cruz Sentinel. Politically it was independent, with Democratic proclivities.

        The Journal was a Democratic paper established in Santa Cruz in 1867; Beans was the name of the publisher. It succumbed to the inevitable after an existence of about one year.

        The Pajaronian, published at Watsonville, was first issued March 5, 1868, by J. A. Cottle. The paper was named by J. J. Owen, now of San Jose Phoenix, a veteran and well-known journalist of the Pacific Coast. C. O. Cummings succeeded Mr. Cottle, and conducted the paper until 1876, when W. R. Radcliff bought a half interest and in 1880 purchased the entire plant. Mr. Radcliff has since conducted the Pajaronian. It is, and always has been, a Republican paper. In this connection it will not be amiss to say something of C. O. Cummings, its whilom editor, who, not very long ago, wrote his last leader, sent in his last copy, and read his last proof. Peace to his ashes. One who knew him but slightly may pay this tribute to his worth without attempting to condone for faults from which no character is free. He was a child of genius, and with different environments, and under other circumstances, might have left a heritage that would have been a benefaction to the human family, a monument more enduring than marble or brass. He was a member of the Golden Era staff at the time that Mark Twain, Bret Harte, Derby, and Ada Isaac Menken were connected with the publication.

        The Expositor was published in Santa Cruz in 1860, by L. P. Hall, known among the craft as "Long Primer Hall." He moved it to Monterey and the same year it was moved to Pajaro, in Monterey County. It was published by B. F. Ankenny. As Jim Fisk has said, "It has gone where the woodbine twineth."

        The Watsonville Transcript was established by W. H. Wheeler, editor and proprietor. It was published as an independent weekly. Wheeler was an erratic sort of a fellow and did not publish different from what he thought and believed. As a natural result, he was continually in hot water. He sold the paper in 1880 to George W. Peckham, who has conducted it since as a conservative Democratic journal.

        The Rustler is the name of an independent Democratic paper, established in Watsonville, December 15, 1888, by Hetherington & Anderson. They still continue it, although Mr. Anderson is not personally connected with its management. Joe Hetherington is the editor and publisher. The paper was issued for a while as a semi­weekly but is now a weekly.

        The first Santa Cruz daily was the Echo, an afternoon paper published by B. A. Stevens in 1881. It lived three months.

        The Soquel Journal, published. by W. S. Walker, was established in Soquel in 1886; after about a year it was moved to East Santa Cruz, and published as the Weekly Herald, by Williams & Netherton. During the year 1891 it was moved to Santa Cruz and published as an evening and weekly paper by Edward Netherton.

        In 1889 a paper was started in Boulder Creek by Sam Wallace, called the Hatchet. Its publisher left the country, and the Hatchet ceased to exist. It was resurrected last winter as the News, by F. L. Clark, but ran only for a short time.

        The papers now published in this county are the Daily and Weekly Sentinel, by McPherson & Waldron ; the Daily and Weekly Surf, by the Surf Publishing Co.; the Herald; by Edward Netherton. These are Santa Cruz papers. In. Watsonville, the Pajaronian, published.by W. R. Radcliff; the Transcript, by George Peckham ; and the Rustler, by Joe Hetherington. The Evangel is the name of a small monthly publication, issued by Edgar Leavitt, the pastor of the Universalist Church of Santa Cruz. Chesnutwood's Business College Journal is another monthly publication, published in the interest of Chesnutwood's Business College. The Buddhist Ray is published monthly by Dr. Veterline, an accomplished scholar and profound thinker, known by the nom de plume of Philangia Dasa. The Ray is a small publication devoted to the doctrines of Buddha.

Transcribed by Kathy Sedler

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