Tulare County
History
History of Tulare and Kings Counties, California - History by Eugene L. Menefee and Fred A. Dodge - Historic Record Company - Los Angeles, California, 1913
CHAPTER IX.
ANECDOTES
ADVENTURES WITH INDIANS
In the adventures of the early settlers with the Indians, there was frequently an element of humor, sometimes of tragedy. There are no other instances, however, that quite equal for the mixture of these two elements the two misadventures that befell Fred or "old man" Steinman. In 1854 or '55 Steinman, who lived southwesterly from Visalia a few miles, went on a hunting trip near what is now Corcoran on the Mahuran slough. He was looking for deer, and the timbered country near this slough looking good to him, he tied his team and proceeded cautiously afoot. He had not traveled far when he espied five or six deer, whereupon he dodged into the slough, and stealthily made his way to a point which he judged to be directly opposite them. Raising cautiously up, he discovered one big buck within range, the rest being some distance beyond. He fired, and at the crack of his rifle what was his horror and dismay to hear an Indian scream with agony. It was a dying shriek. The Indian was himself stalking deer, clothed in deer skin and carrying antlers. There was no more hunting for Steinman that trip. Fearful of revenge, he hurried home and kept exceedingly close for some time. Either, however, the Indians failed to learn the slayer's identity or were satisfied that the shooting was purely accidental, for no reprisal was ever attempted.
Equally, or rather more, serious and at the same time more amusing, was his next trouble. Steinman was an old bachelor and had peculiar habits. His house, which was within half a mile of the Indian rancheria, was of clapboards split and smoothed. Above his livingroom was a loft reached by a ladder. It was Steinman's custom on warm afternoons to repair to this loft, divest himself of all clothing, and spend a few tranquil hours in smoking, meditation or repose.
For some time he had been missing articles from his cabin without a clew to the pilferer or his method. On one afternoon, however, while taking his ease in the loft in a state of nature he heard noises, and looking down through the hole in the floor saw two Indians enter. They had discovered some loose weather boards, and by removing the nails had made an opening which later could be closed and leave no sign.
The table, on which was a variety of eatables, was directly below the hole in the ceiling, and Steinman's anger rose as he watched the Indians make free with his grub and then examine the cabin for things of use. He determined to scare them into fits, and jumped to the table, giving as he did so a wild yell. Instead of fleeing in consternation at this frightful apparition, as he had anticipated, the Indians grabbed knives from the table and attacked him fiercely. Steinman, though severely wounded, managed to reach the fireplace, where he got hold of a long-handled shovel, with which he killed one of his antagonists and drove off the other.
This time Steinman knew that only by immediate flight could he secure his safety. To his neighbor Willis he therefore went. A number of men were here employed making rails and these promised him protection. After consultation it was decided that the best method to pursue would be to endeavor to square the matter with the chief.
All came to town and secured the good offices of Horace Thomas, "Uncle Dan," to act as mediator. The result of the powwow was that in consideration of a beef, a horse and a number of trinkets it was agreed that there should be no harassment of Steinman.
THE POINDEXTER NUPTIALS
John Barker tells this story of W. L. Poindexter, sheriff of Tulare county in the late '50s.
Poindexter was a big, jolly, good-natured fellow, exceedingly popular, having hosts of friends not only in the county, but throughout the valley from Stockton to Bakersfield. A decided weakness for the fair sex was one of his characteristics and when a young lady school teacher from San Jose, Miss Helen S, who was a most bewitching blonde, made her appearance in Visalia, Poindexter became deeply enamoured. Upon her he lavished abundant affection and presents of a substantial nature.
When after a long but ardent courtship he finally secured her consent and the day for the wedding was set, preparations on a grand scale went forward and from Stockton to Bakersfield friends were invited to attend. Barker says :
"There was a jolly crowd and one of which any man might feel justly proud to number as his friends on that occasion. The wedding was to take place Saturday and the bride and groom were to take passage for San Jose on the overland stage immediately thereafter. In the meantime, Poindexter had to make a trip to the Kern river mines."
On his return Friday Barker brought his mail to him at his room. Of this he says : "I noticed a letter in a feminine hand that had been mailed him at Visalia. When I handed him his mail I felt a sort of premonition that all was not right. As he read the letter I saw a change come over his features; he turned pale as death. I saw his hand quiver and thought he would faint. In a few moments, by a great effort, be called me and said, 'Jack, read this, but never on your life breathe a word of it to anyone else.' He added, 'That is from a woman that has ruined me financially and now she has completed the job.' "
The letter was couched in cold blooded, deliberate language. It stated that she had made up her mind not to marry him, did not love him, never had and never could, advised him to get some one nearer his own age, etc., and suggested that he make no attempt to see her.
"Poindexter told me that he had squandered $8,000 on her. We tried to keep things secret that night, but by the next morning everyone in town knew it. Of course, there was a general feeling of indignation among Poindexter's friends, and by noon a Saturnalia had commenced. Nearly all of the guests had bought new suits of clothes, good ones, to honor the occasion, and they organized what they called a 'Lodge of Sorrow.' After installing officers, committees went around among the guests and invited them to meet at the lodge. As fast as they arrived they were put into an ante-room and as their names were called, they were blindfolded and led by the arm by a man on each side. The victim was marched around the room and then led to the center facing the presiding officer. His attention was directed to the awful example of our friend Poindexter, and he was then cautioned never to allow himself to succumb to the wiles of a siren. He was then requested to repeat after one of his guides the following formula:
" 'Then shall we stand such treatment? No! As soon seek roses in December, ice in June, seek constancy in wind, or corn in chaff.
" 'Believe a liar or an epitaph or any other thing that's false before
" 'We let a woman play us such a score.'
"At the command 'Restore him to the light' the bandage was removed from his eyes, the skirts of his Prince Albert coat were seized on each side by his guides and the coat split up the back to the collar and the victim turned loose. Of course, his first impression was that he wanted to punch the heads of the fellows who tore his coat, but when he saw that everyone else in the room had been served the same way, his only alternative was to laugh with them and wait for the next victim. This Saturnalia was kept up until Sunday morning, when they all struck out for their homes."
FIDDLING FROM DONKEY'S BACK.
Many tales are told of the "devil may care" spirit that animated Visalia during the mining boom days. Gambling, boozing, fighting and frolicking were the occupations of the miners, especially, as happened in the fall of '56 and '57, when their pockets were full of dust and they were off on their way to San Francisco to spend the winter.
Visalia offered such attractions that they got no further. At one time about twenty-five of these took practical possession of the town. Wide open and in full blast the attractions were kept going night and day. This crowd had among them a tall and lanky Missourian named Ben Biggs, who could play the fiddle, and that his talents might be exercised in a manner calculated to attract the most attention they purchased a jackass for him to ride and were accustomed to march around the town, halting in front of the different saloons, treating all bystanders while the fiddler played lustily. The sum of $60 per month was paid the musician by the party.
Needless to say, due eclat was secured. Judge Sayles, later of Fresno, who was the leader of this crowd, concluded that this sport had become somewhat stale and arranged for a glorious finale.
At the crossing at Mill creek at Garden street was a ford, below which was a very deep pool. A halt was called here one day and Biggs, at the request of the audience, was sawing out a selection, when a preconcerted rush of the spectators dumped both him and his steed into the water.
THE McCRORY EPISODE
Visalia in the '70s numbered among its inhabitants a genuine "bad man." This was one James McCrory, who at the time of his death had the reputation of having killed or wounded thirteen men.
McCrory, when sober, was pleasant and companionable and gained many friends. When drunk, he was cross-grained and surly and inclined to shoot on little or no provocation. His first serious trouble occurred here in October, 1870, when without apparent cause he shot and killed Manuel Barcla, a Mexican barkeeper in the Fashion saloon. For this murder he was at his first trial, sentenced to fifteen years imprisonment. On the second trial he was acquitted on technicalities. As the murder was peculiarly cold-blooded and brutal this caused much unfavorable comment.
The culminating incident of his career, however, and the means by which he gained a large amount of such fame as lay within his reach, occurred on the night of December 24, 1872. McCrory had just returned from a prospecting trip to Arizona. He had met with no success and arrived broke, actually in rags, in fact. Charles Allen, a barkeeper in the Eldorado saloon, had been his good friend for years and to him McCrory appealed for assistance. Allen replenished his wardrobe, purchasing at Sweet's store a $10 pair of trousers and other articles of good quality. After making the necessary purchases, the two chums proceeded to carouse around together all day. Allen went to bed in the saloon, but McCrory continued to celebrate. He became so boisterous that the Mexican barkeeper became frightened and woke Allen. When Allen suggested that he make less noise, McCrory pulled his pistol and, without a word, shot Allen just below the eye. There were numerous witnesses to the dastardly act and feeling against McCrory was intense. Allen died in about an hour.
McCrory made his escape through the rear of the saloon and had hid himself in an outhouse, whence he was coaxed to come out by "Picayune" Johnson, a citizen, who placed him under arrest. When being taken to the jail by deputy sheriff Jesse Reynolds, there were loud and frequent cries from the crowd of "hang him! hang him!" McCrory yelled back, "Yes, you ............................., you dassent hang me."
It was Christmas eve. The church bells were ringing their call to attend the Christmas trees festivities at the Methodist church on Court street, but there were few men who answered this summons. They attended a graver and sterner meeting on Main street. at 9 p. m., and as a result marched en masse to the jail where sheriff A. H. Glasscock with armed deputies were found guarding the prisoner. The sheriff asked the crowd not to act hastily and do things of which later they would be ashamed, and requested them to at least wait an hour before taking any action. This was agreed to and at the end of that time they returned with an eighteen foot piece of timber with which they broke open the outside iron door of the jail. After reaching the hall they had to pass the sheriff's office where eight or ten armed men were on guard. These were forced to give way and were shoved into the office and held there. The keys were taken from Reynolds and the cell door opened.
McCrory had heard them coming and, determined not to "die with his boots on," had removed them. When the leaders entered the cell they found him lying on his face. They caught him by the hair, raised his head up, placed a noose around his neck and half dragged, half carried him to the hall. A railing blocked the way here and in order to prevent premature strangulation, he was lifted over this. Outside, he was taken to the Mill creek bridge on Court street, the rope tied to a post of the railing, and he was thrown over.
A man made a motion that he be left there for one hour, which was duly seconded and carried. During the interim, a collection to defray funeral expenses was taken up, and arrangements made with the undertaker. At the end of the hour "Fatty Johnson," the undertaker, appeared with a spring wagon. Six men pulled McCrory up and got him partially into the wagon. The incident was closed. Certainly there had been no delay or miscarriage of justice and not a cent of expense to the county.
THE MORRIS-SHANNON AFFRAY
On November 15, 1860, William Governeur Morris shot and killed John Shannon, editor of the Delta. This affray grew out of the bitterness engendered in the political campaign which had just been brought to a close, and for a correct understanding of the motives actuating the men, it is necessary to relate some of the verbal passages between them.
The Visalia Sun had been started during this campaign as an organ of the Republican party, the Delta supporting Breckenridge. Morris, it was stated, controlled the policy of the Sun and contributed to it editorially.
In the first issue of the Delta after the election there appeared a statement from Shannon as follows: "To the Public: In the last issue of the Sun I find a card signed by William Governeur Morris, in which is the following language have endeavored to obtain satisfaction from Mr. Shannon for his personal abuse of me in his paper, but have been unable to do so.' " After this follow copies of a portion of the correspondence. "On the 15th of September last I received a note from Mr. Morris by the hands of two men, who immediately left without stating the object of their visit or the purport of the note of which they were the bearers, thus affording me no opportunity to give them a written answer or to refer them to my friend. Regarding this conduct on the part of these messengers as a deliberate insult, and finding one of them on the streets, I commenced, without any ceremony, to chastise him for his impertinence. (This was A. J. Atwell.) In so doing I injured my right hand, an injury which has since proved to be more serious than was at the time supposed. Mr. Morris was informed of the fact through Mr. Beckham, and requested to wait until such time as I could have the full use of my hand." Shannon goes on to state that Morris agreed to this and was to await an answer from Mr. Beckham, which had not been given because Shannon's hand was not yet well, and also that both Morris and Tate knew that he had also met with an accident to his other hand. He accuses them of violating the rules of the code and concludes by saying, "Inasmuch as Mr. Morris has chosen to retire from his position, I have only to say that hereafter, should he or any of his kind feel aggrieved by any act or word of mine, they have only to call upon me, with the assurance that I will be prepared to arrange matters with them very summarily, and without the interpositions of friends or a resort to the code."
November 15, 1860, a card appeared from Morris denouncing Shannon as a liar, coward and blackguard and stating that he would pay him no further attention. The affair occurred the same day. The version given by both the Sun and the Delta was :
"On Thursday evening Shannon entered the office of W. P. Gill, Esq., where Morris was sitting. Shannon held in his hand a cocked pistol, and on entering raised the pistol, at the same time saying, 'Morris, are you armed?' Morris sprang to his feet and grappled with his opponent. Shannon being the taller of the two, Morris was unable to disarm him and Shannon beat him severely upon the head with the pistol, inflicting nine severe scalp wounds. At the first or second blow Shannon's pistol was discharged accidentally. After receiving these blows, Morris fell to the floor, covered with blood, whereupon Shannon gazed upon him several seconds and turned and left the room. Morris, thereupon, sprang to his feet and, drawing his revolver, rushed out of the south door of the building so as to intercept Shannon before reaching his office. The parties here exchanged shots ineffectually. Morris then left his position and proceeding to the north side of the building, climbed on the fence (Shannon retaining his position) and took deliberate aim and fired, the ball striking Mr. Shannon in the abdomen. At this instant Shannon had raised his pistol, but lowered it without firing and put his hand to the wound and walked to his office, where he died in about an hour and eighteen minutes.
Shannon was a man highly respected by a large circle of friends and sincerely mourned. He was one of the pioneer journalists of the state, having previously edited the Placer Democrat and the Calaveras Chronicle.
Morris later became United States marshal of California.
STAPLEFORD-DEPUTY AFFAIR
One of the most bizarre and at the same time most outrageous crimes known in the annals of any county was committed in the summer of 1858. The heavy villains were one J. D. Stapleford and William Governeur Morris, known as "bloody" Morris, the same gentleman who afterwards killed Shannon, the editor of the Delta, and later became United States marshal.
It appears that Stapleford, who hailed
from Stockton, had there, in order to defraud his creditors, deeded his
property, said to amount to $30,000 or $40,000, to his uncle, William C. Deputy.
Deputy had handled this property for some time, selling and reinvesting, and, as
he claimed, repaying to Stapleford such sums from time to time as to cancel the
indebtedness. Deputy, however, remained possessed of much property and
Stapleford demanded of his uncle that he deed all his property to him, claiming
that the old score remained unsettled. Deputy refused and then Stapleford
offered a reward of $1,000 to anyone who would compel him to sign an instrument
to that effect. There being no takers for this offer, Stapleford caused
Deputy's arrest on a charge of swindling, and he was confined in the old wooden
jail and court house and chained to a ring-bolt, fastened in the floor.
Apparently fearing that some attempt at the use of violence
might be committed on the prisoner, Sheriff Poindexter placed two men, Ed
Reynolds and Frank Warren, on guard to protect the old man.
On the 28th of July, a mob headed by Morris, who was a lawyer
and notary, broke into jail, took Deputy to the outskirts of town, swung him up
to a tree by a noose around his neck until he was nearly strangled, let him
down, and then requested him to sign a deed that had been prepared. Upon his
refusal he was again swung up and lashed by Morris with a blacksnake until
almost unconscious. He then consented to sign, but after being taken back to
jail, showed signs of renewed stubbornness. However, after being chained again
to the ring-bolt and threatened again with the lash, he did sign a deed by which
he transferred to Stapleford any and all real estate of which he might be
possessed in the state of California.
This property included that on which the Visalia flouring mills are now situated, a tract east of town and a hotel and ranch property in San Bernardino. The property was immediately retransferred to a supposedly innocent third party and when Deputy brought suit to recover, the supreme court held that there was no law empowering it to reinstate Deputy in possession.
Stapleford, Morris and four others of the principal men composing the mob that had committed the outrage were later arrested on a complaint signed by many prominent citizens. Morris was convicted and sentenced to pay a fine of $500 and serve six months in jail. Owing to secret influences of some kind, he successfully evaded doing either one, and escaped scot free.
JAMES McKINNEY'S HIGH LIFE
On Sunday morning, July 27, 1902, James McKinney, an ex-convict, murderer and all round bad man, ran amuck in Porterville, shot five men, one fatally, held up a livery stable for a team and made his escape.
McKinney at the time was employed at the Mint saloon as night manager. About midnight he and Ralph Calderwood, known as "Scotty," proprietor of a saloon and chop house, got together in the Mint saloon. Both had been drinking and McKinney was boisterous. He fired a shot from his revolver at random from the door of the Mint and then adjourned to Scotty's place where more promiscuous shooting was indulged in.
City Marshal John Howell, his deputy, John Willis, Deputy Constable W. L. Tompkins and a railroad employe named Lyons approached for the purpose of arresting McKinney, who began shooting when the officers were within fifteen feet of him. They returned the fire and Willis called, "Jim, stop your shooting." A shot was fired in reply. Attempting to fire again, the gun snapped and Willis remarked, "Come on, boys, he has no more ammunition, we will get him now." McKinney fled, pursued by the officers. Willis, who was in the lead, fired two shots, one of which hit McKinney in the leg. Willis, out of ammunition, continued the chase and got close enough to strike McKinney with his cane. McKinney had reloaded while running and upon being struck, turned and shot Willis, the ball taking effect in the upper lip, knocking him down.
The chase then ceased, but McKinney continued the flight to the house of his mistress, where he procured a shotgun and rifle. Starting to return to town, he encountered William Linn, a gambler, at whom without provocation he discharged a load of buckshot, fatally wounding him. Linn had previously been accidentally shot and slightly wounded in the exchange of shots with the officers. McKinney then went to the Arlington stables, roused the hostlers, and, covering them with his rifle, demanded a team, threatening to kill them if they did not hurry. While the team was being harnessed McKinney fired eight or ten shots towards the main part of town. He then got into the buggy and drove up through town, shooting at every person he saw. .
George Barrow, a compositor in the Enterprise office, received a charge in the right arm and in the small of the back, and W. B. West was shot in the right arm and hip. West was slightly, and Barrow very severely wounded. After shooting Barrow and West McKinney drove through the main part of town to the residence of D. B. Mosier, whom he roused. He said, "I have killed four or five men down town and must leave here. I want you to give me all the money you have. Take these keys and you will find in the locker at the safe at the Mint saloon, $100. Tell the Indian, referring to Ed Isham, to give you that money. Tell Ed that I have gone, that they will never take me. Tracy won't be in it with me, I will kill anyone that looks at me."
Mosier gave McKinney all the money he had, about $60. McKinney drove again to Main street and took a parting shot at "Kid" Tatman, but without effect. He drove north then from Porterville, passing through Lindsay, and in the vicinity of Lemon Cove secreted himself near D. McKee's home.
Sheriff Parker was soon on the trail but failed to locate him, as McKinney had numerous friends who assisted him in keeping his whereabouts a secret. In August, and until October, he was seen in the Randsburg district, whence he disappeared to parts unknown, not being heard of until June of 1903, when he was reported in Mexico. Sheriff Collins secured extradition papers and went after him. McKinney, however, escaped and went to Kingman, Arizona, in which vicinity he murdered two men. Fleeing from the scene of these crimes he again appeared in the Randsburg region, being hotly pursued by Sheriff Lavin of Mojave county, Arizona, as well as by Sheriff Collins and ex-Sheriff Overall of this county and sheriff's possees from Kern county. McKinney, evading these, made his way successfully through the Sierras to Kernville and there narrowly escaped being killed by Rankin and McCracken, who recognized him and in a running fight, wounded him.
On April 19, 1903, McKinney was located in a Chinese joss house in Bakersfield. The house was surrounded by a cordon of officers, and Jeff Packard, city marshal, and Will E. Tibbett, special deputy sheriff, were killed in an attempt to enter it. McKinney appeared at the doorway and was shot and instantly killed by deputy sheriff Bert M. Tibbetts.
THE MAGANA BUTCHERY
The last of the long list of bloody crimes that has cursed the county that will be noted was that committed in Porterville, February 17, 1911. On that day, just before dark and as the stores were closing for the night, Juan Magana, a Mexican laborer who had been at work in the county, entered the Lambkin-Graham clothing store. It happened that J. B. Lambkin was still in the store and Magana asked to look at some shoes. While Lambkin was looking for the shoes the Mexican demanded money and on being refused, drew a butcher knife and stabbed the Merchant to death.
Some one entered the store just then and gave the alarm. Magana broke through a rear window and escaped in the darkness. In the tussle in the store he had cut his own hand and he left a trail of blood. He escaped to a small settlement of Mexicans near the outskirts of town, and there gave away the knife, but escaped. Early the following morning the officers followed the trail to the Mexican camp, but there lost it and during the forenoon were beating the surrounding country for the criminal. He was soon found by Orral Kilroy of Porterville and turned over to the town marshal, E. B. Isham.
Sheriff Collins had gone over in an automobile and immediately took the marshal and the prisoner into the machine and started for Visalia. The people were greatly incensed over the crime, and a move was started to wrest the fellow from the officers and execute him on the spot. The driver of the machine speeded through the streets of Porterville at a sixty-mile clip, and distanced all pursuers. When a few miles from town there was a long bridge to be crossed. The driver kept up speed, and striking some obstruction, one of .the axles broke and the machine careened to one side and toppled off the bridge to the dry bed of the creek below. The parties in the machine jumped out before it landed and thus escaped any injury more than a severe jolting. The gasoline exploded and the machine was burned. The officers, with their prisoner, walked to a nearby house, telephoned for a new machine and finally arrived, late in the afternoon, at the jail at Visalia.
Magana made a full confession, was found guilty, and on June 16, expiated his crime in San Quentin. His is the only case in the history of the county when an execution was effected on the day first set by a judge.
MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS
The Delta January 6, 1861, speaks of a sale of Visalia building lots held on the day previous by J. E. Wainwright & Co. The sale was largely attended and the bidding spirited. One hundred and fifteen lots were sold at prices ranging from $5 to $30. The lots were in Aughinbaugh's Addition to Visalia.
As late as 1891, lands near Visalia were by no means held at high prices. J. H. Thomas advertised forty acres three-quarters of a mile south of town for $60 per acre. The same year, Sontag & Evans, who afterwards became famous criminals, advertised thirteen lots, and half a block in Aughinbaugh's Addition to Visalia, orchard and vineyard on the land, for $1,600.
As a showing of the importance of sheep-raising in Tulare in early days it is noted that the fall clip of wool of 1872 was 1,474,500 pounds. The winter following was the most severe one ever experienced by sheepmen and yet the spring clip of 1873 was 947,375 pounds.
J. P. Majors of Visalia was the first postmaster in Tulare county, being appointed in 1855 and serving three years. He was succeeded by Zane Steuben.
In 1891 the lumber business was very active. Atwell's mills on the Mineral King road was operated by the Kaweah colonists; four saw mills were located on the Upper Yolo, two of which were running; the Comstock mills, above Camp Badger; the Sequoia mills, just across the line in Fresno county. The total cut of these mills that year was over three million feet of lumber.
CROSSING STREAMS IN THE FIFTIES
The business of maintaining ferries across different streams in the county appears to have been a profitable one in early days, judging from the number engaged in it.
At one of the first meetings of the board of supervisors in 1853, A. B. Gordon was granted the privilege of maintaining a ferry across Kern river, free of taxation for a period of eight months. The following rates were authorized: six-horse team or four yoke of oxen, $6; four-horse wagon, $4; two-horse wagon, $2; horse and man, $1; pack mules, fifty cents; loose horses and foot men, twenty-five cents each.
In 1855 the court of sessions granted licenses to L. A. Whitman to conduct a ferry on Kings river, at a point two and one-half miles west of Crumley's ranch, and to I. S. George to run a ferry boat at the Poindexter crossing; granted to John Pool the right to continue his ferry and gave to Crumley and Smith the privilege of conducting another.
COUNTY SCRIP AND GOLD DUST
In August, 1855, at a meeting of the board of supervisors, it was "ordered that the treasurer pay to S. C. Brown the balance still due on order thirteen county scrip, valuing gold dust at $14 per ounce."
AN INDIAN RUNNER
"Captain George, an Indian and a 'big Injun heap' at that, has commenced running as an expressman between this place and Coso. For his services he gets very well paid and would be better paid had he a touch of Yankee in his system. He makes the trip now in about four days and packages of light weight of any description may be safely entrusted to his care."—Delta, 1861.
In September, 1862, Mr. Van Water is credited with having a factory in operation in Visalia, making a fine article of sorghum Syrup.
In 1863 Nathan Baker put in a field of about twelve acres, near Visalia, to tobacco.
"Splendid deer skins, dressed, were offered for sale in this place yesterday morning at $19 a dozen."—Delta, Oct. 20, 1861.
"Boating—People who have not been here for a year or two will be surprised to hear that navigation is now open just north of town. The first boat arrived near S. Davenport's, on Saturday last, with four tons of freight on board. Since that some thirty tons have arrived by the same means, and regular trips will be made until the water subsides."—Delta, May 15, 1867.
"Two hunters, living in the foothills on the waters of the Tule river, have killed over one hundred and twenty deer during the present winter."—Delta, 1866.
VISALIA'S FIRST BUSINESS DIRECTORY
The business directory of. Visalia in 1861 was as follows : Saloons : Cosmopolitan, Gem, Fashion, St. Charles. Wholesale and retail dealers : H. Cohn, H. Green. Hotels : Exchange, corner Court and Main streets ; Visalia House, corner Main and Church streets. General merchandise, etc., Sam Ellis, D. R. Douglass, Reinstein & Hockett, Sweet & Jacobs, Weinshank & Sinclair, M. Reinstein. Stage lines: Hice & Wilson. Miscellaneous : Bossler & Townsend, saddlers and harness makers ; Ignoble & Kraft, bakers and confectioners ; G. W. Rogers, jeweler ; B. M. Bronson, gunsmith ; John II. Richardson, painter ; Douglass & Magary, contractors and builders ; Samuel Dinely, barber shop and bathhouse; Joseph H. Thomas, lumber yard ; George W. Sutherland, tailor shop ; Justices of the Peace : S. W. Beckham, Robert C. Redd. Attorneys : W. M. Stafford, A. J. Atwell, Morris & Brown, S. A. Sheppard. Physicians: Dr. M. Baker, Dr. J. D. P. Thomason, Dr. W. A. Russell, Dr. James A. Roberts, Dr. T. O. Ellis, Sr.
SECOND COURTHOUSE
Tulare county's second courthouse, built in 1859, was a brick structure 40x60 feet in size, of two stories and a basement. In the basement was a jail, one half being divided into six cells, lined with boiler iron. In 1873 an additional jail as a separate building was constructed.
As to the building of the present court house without the wings (which were added in 1906), there hangs a tale. The Southern Pacific had completed its line through the county in 1872, leaving Visalia sidetracked and therefore destined to become a "deserted village." At the site of Tulare, the railroad had platted a town in which plat provision was made for a court house, and the general expectation, both among buyers of town lots in Tulare and citizens generally was that Tulare would become the county seat. But the legislature of 1875-1876 passed an act authorizing the county of Tulare to issue bonds in the sum of $75,000 for the purpose of building a court house in Visalia. This naturally aroused intense opposition, not only from Tulare and the southern end of the county, but even from Visalia. The Delta denounced it as a job, stating that the then existing court house was good enough and that the building of another would be burdensome on the taxpayers.
A "People's Convention" was called to meet in Visalia, July 15, 1876, to take action in the matter. Resolutions were passed denouncing the methods used in the passage of the bill through the legislature, etc., and agreeing to use every legal means to prevent its operation. However, the citizens of Visalia regarded it as vital to their welfare, if not to the very salvation of the town; the majority of the board of supervisors were favorable to Visalia and pushed the matter forward as rapidly as possible, issuing bonds, advertising for bids for the sale of the old structure and the construction of the new, etc.
A. D. Glasscock bought the old courthouse for $686, and R. E. Hyde the jail for $205. Stephens and Childers of Santa Rosa were awarded the contract for construction for $59,700, and on October 28, 1871, under the auspices of the Grand Lodge of Free and Accepted Masons of California, the cornerstone was laid.
CEMETERIES
Tulare county's first cemetery was started in Visalia in 1857, near where the Tipton Lindsey schoolhouse is now situated. The first occupant was a Dutchman who was drowned in Mill creek and whose only known name was Pete. On the rough pine box containing the remains was therefore duly inscribed "Pete in the box," the same inscription being placed on the headboard.
Among others whose bodies were laid to rest here and later removed to the new cemetery were Jack Lorenz, Mrs. Thomas Baker, Mrs. Nathan Baker, and a man called. Salty.
VISALIA 'S TITLE
There was for many years a cloud upon the title to lots in Visalia and at one time there was serious trouble feared. It appears that after Nat. Vise gave up his preemption in favor of the oncoming city, nothing was done to comply with legal forms necessary to perfect a title.
On August 9, 1857, the board of supervisors passed an order asking congress to grant the board the right to preempt the town site of Visalia, and the clerk was ordered to file in the land office, then located in San Francisco, the necessary application. The application was not received, the land office claiming that there was no evidence that the supervisors were the agents of Tulare county. The matter was dropped till about 1867. The Visalia Land District had been formed and one George Garish appointed receiver. Discovering the lack of title to the townsite, he made application for the lands. This aroused the people and steps were taken to perfect the title to the county for the lands. The matter had to be taken before the land commissioner at Washington, but it was finally settled to the benefit of the people.
BEFORE VISALIA BEAUTIFUL CAME
In the spring of 1860 a correspondent to the local paper speaks thus of Visalia : "This region, including the town, is little more than a labyrinth of crooked creeks, ditches, fences, brush, weeds, etc. A quarter of a mile out of town one is in the wilderness to all intents and purposes. Streets are straight and square as far as they go, but they don't go, and it takes a very uncommon owl to get to his regular roost in the burg after dark. Wonder what the 'Beau Brummel' of the Mariposa Gazette, who was here about two weeks ago, thinks about it, inquiring the way to Visalia at a house about a hundred yards from the Court street bridge."
IN THE FIFTIES
June 25, 1859—"We hope to be able soon to give the latest telegraphic news received at St. Louis, by the stages as they pass through town."—Delta.
"A protest against the contemplated reduction of the overland mail service is now in circulation. * This is the only direct and speedy (sic) connection we have with the east and its promptness and regularity have made it an enterprise of the utmost. importance to the people of California."—Delta, 1859.
SOME ADVICE COUPLED WITH A PREDICTION
"I would advise the merchants and citizens of Visalia and Tulare county to encourage as much as possible men to go into the mountains east of this valley and prospect there thoroughly, as nothing but the discovery of mines close to us that we can supply without fear of competition will save us from inevitable Babylonic ruin that will change most of our fine buildings into nothing but a shelter for a lot of lousy Indians in a few years."—(Newspaper correspondent in 1859.)
POLITICS
The following appeared in the Delta in 1859.
"We can safely pledge the county of Tulare to give seventy-five Democratic votes to one Republican or mixed. * * * In Fresno county there was never but one abolitionist and he has now left for a more congenial clime. His portrait is to be seen at the Millerton hotel. Mr. McCray has had the portrait framed at a heavy expense that the passerby may look upon the Lone Republican of Fresno. Whence be came or whither he went no one knoweth."
THE BUSY BEE
June 21, 1859.—"J. B. Stevens arrived in Visalia with ten hives of bees, the first ever brought to the county.
J. H. and C. G. Hart had an apiary east of Visalia in 1860, and inserted the following advertisement in the Delta Bee Advertisement —For sale on and after the first of September next a choice lot of honey bees in as good condition as any the county affords. Price $50 a swarm. A farm or grain will be taken as pay where it suits purchasers better than to pay money.' "
ARRIVAL OF THE TELEGRAPH
On June 18, 1860, the Atlantic and Pacific telegraph line entered Visalia and the occasion was celebrated in a fitting manner. Abe Rapely, agent of the Overland mail company, took the matter in charge. A procession consisting of every horse and vehicle in town, with all spare stage coaches, decorated with flags and bunting, set out to meet the linemen. A large banner on which was painted a representation of the earth surrounded by a chain of telegraph wires with the motto "I'll put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes," was carried by T. V. Crane who made the address of welcome and escorted back into town the superintendent, James Street.
ELECTIONS HELD IN SALOONS
"Pursuant to notice a primary election was held in the Visalia precinct at the new saloon of A. O. Thorns, on Saturday last, and the following gentlemen chosen as delegates to attend the Union county convention of Saturday, August 2nd: Stephen Davenport, Henry Hartley, W. M. Johnson, G. A. Botsford, John Cutler, H. Morrell, I. H. Thomas, S. Cady, T. Lindsey, William Baker, S. G. George, Lytle Owen, John Gill."—Delta, July, 1862.
A VIGOROUS PROTEST
Dr. Webb, the eccentric individual who obtained a deed to the upper story of a building erected in Visalia, as related elsewhere, later became county physician and manager of the county hospital at a salary of $500 per year. In 1871 the supervisors ousted Webb from his position and gave to his successor a salary of $2000 per year. The following card appeared in the Times of November 11, 1871, which seems to indicate that the reverend doctor was somewhat peeved:
"Rev. James A. Webb to the perjured supervisors of Tulare county, California.
"Perjured villains, rebel devils and fools;
"While unscrupulous and perjured rebel devils hold political sway in our demented rebel county no honest man or christian can expect any favors from their nefarious hands.
"I would be glad to keep the county hospital for $500 a year, but because I am a Union man, and not a perjured rebel devil, you will rob me of my only means of support and give my hospital to rebel traitors of your own kind for four times the price for which I offer to keep it.
"Therefore, I, the only true physician in Tulare county, California, and the only true Gospel minister in Tulare county, and the only Bible poet in Tulare county, and the only Advent prophet in Tulare county and the only Christian patriarch in Tulare; therefore, in the name and service of the Great Jehovah, I offer my services to God and him only to continue my fifty years Bible task.
"Where is your oath of office, Oh! ye perjured Democratic demons ? Where is your conscience, you ungodly devils? Have you any reason why I should not damn you all together?" And follows more, signed "Alonzo, the Advent Prophet, Bible Poet and Christian Patriarch."
A NOVEL ENGINE
A correspondent, writing about Visalia in the '90s, thus speaks of the engine that hauled the passengers from Visalia to Goshen: "The engine doing service on the Visalia railroad is one of the most novel arrangements we recollect to have seen in railroading. It has engine, tender and car all aggregated together, will carry ten or fifteen passengers and baggage, and can doubtless be run at half the cost of an ordinary stage coach. We place no high estimate on its speed, but the engineer tells us that it has the power to move any train likely to be loaded at any point in the valley."
THE FLOOD TIMES
There are a great many people who never lived in Tulare county that have a fixed idea that this is a waterless county, where the unfortunate denizens are ever parched with thirst. But there have been many years when there was more water than was necessary for drinking purposes.
That abused individual, the "oldest inhabitant," tells of wonderful times back in the early '50s. But the flood of 1867 is one in the memories of a great many people, and was surely bad enough. In the winter of that year all the streams in the county were on a rampage. Tule river spread all over the Poplar and Woodville sections. Deer creek and the White river merged their waters in their lower course, and the Kaweah and St. Johns made a vast expanse of waters. Boats bearing supplies passed freely from Visalia to places in Kings and Fresno counties. The herds of cattle and sheep looked sad. Many hair breadth adventures are recorded and there was great loss of property.
An account of the experiences at two farm houses will serve to indicate prevailing conditions during this flood. Eastward from Visalia, near where Packwood creek crosses the Mineral King road, there resided but three families, those of A. H. Broder, Ira Van Gordon and W. H. Mills. Broder suggested that all get together at his place, that being situated on higher ground. This was done and the men proceeded to build an embankment about three feet high, enclosing about half an acre of ground. The siding from the barn was removed and a raft built, their labors extending into the night. The women, likewise, were busily employed preparing supplies, cooking beans, etc. The plan was to move to a still higher sand knoll which lay to the south and west. By nine o'clock the following morning, Broder, who had been keeping tab on the water level by means of sticks, reported that it had receded half an inch and that it would not be necessary to move.
About two hundred Indians took refuge on the same high mound, and made a gala festival of the predicament. Squirrels and rabbits in great numbers were caught and hung on lines to dry, the flood affording both amusement and provender.
At the residence of the Evans family, near Visalia, which was also located on high ground, there were exciting times this night. The water, after a previous raise, came suddenly, surrounding their house and almost engulfing some of their neighbors' homes. The Prothero family lived on the Bentley place and there the water ran through the windows. Mr. and Mrs. Prothero with three children were assisted to move to the Evans house and then came a call for help from the home of Mrs. Williams, who lived adjoining. This was about one o'clock in the morning, pitch dark and the swirling waters icy cold. Mrs. Williams had a baby but four or five days old and was unable to walk. Samuel and James Evans waded over, and placing her in a rocking chair, carried her to safety. Tom Robinson, with his wife and family, also took refuge with the Evanses, making a total of twenty-five gathered there. The barn, several hundred yards away, half full of hay, provided the only place for sleeping quarters for so many people. Between it and the house the water ran two or three feet deep. Luckily, a boat had previously been constructed in which to go to Visalia, and so the half-dried refugees cuddled around the stove in the Evans's kitchen were enabled to get to bed without again getting wet. Jim Evans, acting as gondolier, conducted his guests to their hay mow lodgings.
HARVESTING WHEAT
In the days of the early '50s harvesting grain was anything but a rapid process. No reapers or combined harvester then. The labor of cutting was done mostly by Indians, with old-fashioned reap hooks. The grain was drawn to the threshing yard by rawhides, and the threshing done by tramping the straw with horses in the same old style that was in vogue in the days of Noah.
THE LOST MINE
Tulare county, like many other sections of the state, has had its Lost Mine legend. This particular one has had many variations in the narrative, and many were the people who gave time and means in searching for the lost mine. One of the legends was that a party of Spaniards had a mine somewhere in the mountains in the headwaters of the Kaweah river, that the mine was immensely rich, and that going out to Sonora with a pack train all the miners were killed and the packs were all of gold. The Indians claimed to know of the location of the mine, and several expeditions were made to find it but with the usual success. Floods had washed away landmarks, or something was wrong, so the Indians never quite found the right spot.
Andrew Harrell, familiarly known as "Barley" Harrell, did not owe his nickname to the great acreages of the cereal that he was accustomed to plant, but to the fact that in his courting days when visiting his sweetheart he told his parents that he had been to see Mr. Bacon about that barley. The excuse served well for one visit, but the use of it a second time caused much laughter and he was ever after designated "Barley."
SOME STATISTICS OF 1870
W. J. Ellis, county assessor of Tulare county in 1870, submitted, as was the custom in those days, a statistical report to the state surveyor-general showing the number of live stock of different kinds, areas devoted to different cultures, quantity of different productions, etc. On account of the small cultivated area in those days, and on account of the conscientious care Mr. Ellis brought to the task, a degree of accuracy was obtained greatly in excess of present day statistics.
For example, there were one hundred and eight orange trees in the county, one hundred of which were in a nursery. Today there are in the neighborhood of 2,700,000. The area devoted to wheat was 2500 acres. In the '80s, when the production of this cereal reached its height, scores of ranches each contained a greater acreage than this.
The butter production was 8,150 pounds; today over four million.
While cattle raising was one of the great industries of that time, we find but 28,604 head of stock cattle, a number almost equaled now by dairy cows.
Of sheep, now almost extinct within this county, there were 158,631, and the annual production of wool was given as 872,670 pounds. This, by the way, was more than doubled in the next four succeeding years.
In all, there were but 30,000 acres of enclosed land, 20,000 of which was cultivated.
In a letter to the surveyor-general accompanying this report, Mr. Ellis qualified as a prophet by using the following language: "Stock raising has ever been and is yet the leading interest in Tulare county, but a change is taking place. We have to look but a short distance ahead to see the plains of Tulare county covered with beautiful farms, nice farm houses, waving fields of grain. The locomotive's whistle will then be heard."
MANKINS' PARTY ARRIVAL
The following is quoted from the description of the entry of a party of pioneers into Visalia in 1854, written by one of them—J. H. Mankins :
"Late in April, 1854, had one been standing on Main street, Visalia, he would have witnessed the entry of a unique cavalcade. There were ten riders traveling in single file—your humble servant one of them.
"That broad-shouldered man, weighing above two hundred and twenty pounds is 'dad.' He is always in the lead and is dressed throughout in smoked buckskin with fringes up the legs, and a hunting shirt, also fringed roundabout. Add to the costume a very high plug hat, imagine him then with a mop of raven black hair falling
over his shoulders, with coal black, piercing eyes, seated on a large dapple gray horse. A hunting knife is at his girdle, a six-shooter on either side of the saddlehorn and he carries a 'sharp-shooter' rifle in front. Such was J. B. Mankins, forty-niner and pioneer of pioneers.
"After Dad came next two boys, nearing manhood, one girl of eleven, a young Indian boy, two Jews and then three boys aged fourteen, eight and six. We were all, except the Jews, dressed wholly in buckskin, well fringed. For hats we wore bearskin caps.
"We pitched our camp just across Mill creek, north of Visalia. The tules then came very close to town and the mosquitoes were very numerous. The town consisted of one store, kept by John Pemberton, a blacksmith shop and a tavern. O. K. Smith was sheriff and Judge Louis Van Tassell, under sheriff.
"I remember quite well Mrs. John Keener, Sr. She had gotten sight of us and perceived that we were sadly in need of repairs, for you see, we were half-orphans. So she had Dad get some cloth, and she made us up some clothes, for it became necessary for us to conform to the usages of civilization."
In 1859, the following time schedule was published: Overland stage from San Francisco to St. Louis arrives Sunday and Wednesday mornings, departs on arrival. From Stockton to Visalia, arrives Tuesday and Friday nights, departs Monday and Thursday mornings. From Visalia to Los Angeles, via Kingsbury, Petersburg and Keyesville, arrives eighth and twenty-fifth of month and departs first and fifteenth. Tri-weekly to Honitos-120 miles, made one day, return next. Tri-weekly to Linns valley.
In July, 1867, Messrs. Thorne and Davenport established a saddle and pack train over the Hockett trail to Lone Pine and Independence.
In July, 1864, Messrs. Bellows, Lown and Badger, of Owens river, started a regular cargo train over the new trail from Visalia to Owens river.
We are informed that the services at the camp ground near town were disturbed on Sunday by some unregenerate heathen who persisted in singing John Brown, The Star Spangled Banner, Hail Columbia, and other airs, which were decidedly offensive to the majority of those present. This is very wrong."—Delta, Sept. 3, 1862.
"Wild mustangs seem to be quite plenty in our vicinity. A company of young men went out on the plains near the head of Cross creek on Saturday last and succeeded in securing sixteen of the quadrupeds."—Delta, June 12, 1862.
NO FENCE LAW
It is probable that no measure ever passed by the legislature of California had more beneficial effect on the agricultural interests of the state than the "no fence" law enacted in 1874.
This law required cattle owners to prevent their stock from trespassing on the land of others when same was in use. In Tulare county the agitation in favor of the passage of such a law was inaugurated by Stephen Barton, editor of the Delta, in 1870. As stock raising was the principal industry here at that time, and there were many men heavily interested in it whose revenues would be injuriously affected, the proposed measure was bitterly opposed. The election of 1873 for senator from the district comprised of Fresno, Kern and Tulare counties turned upon the question of "fence" or "no fence," Thomas Fowler, on the Democratic ticket, opposing the law, and Tipton Lindsey, running as Independent, favoring it.
The Times opposed the law on the ground that no time was allowed the stockmen in which to make such changes in their methods as to permit them to sustain a minimum of loss.
The Delta pointed out the rapid development of farming which would ensue and the eminent justice of the measure.
The issue was presented in stirring speeches to the voters of almost every precinct by the opposing candidates, the result in this county being a majority of votes for Fowler. Lindsey was, however, elected, as was a "no fence" assemblyman, and the enactment into law followed at the next session of the legislature.
AS SEEN BY FREMONT
Fremont, when homeward bound, in 1844, passed through the San Joaquin valley and Tulare county. He speaks frequently of the numerous bands of wild horses encountered enroute. Elk were frequently started near the San Joaquin river, and wolves were seen chasing the young antelope.
On April 8th, the River of the Lake, elsewhere denominated the Rio de los Reyes, or Kings river, was reached. Here the Indians brought in otter skins to trade. His ford is located at latitude 36-?4-50, longitude 119-41-40. Of the trip from Kings river to the southern end of what is now Tulare county, Fremont says :
"April 9th.—For several miles we had very bad traveling over what is called rotten ground, in which the horses were frequently up to their knees. Making toward a line of timber, we found a small, fordable stream (Cottonwood creek), beyond which the country improved and the grass became excellent. * * * We traveled until late through open oak groves, and encamped among a collection of streams." Was this near the Kaweah and Canoe creek and Deep creek?
"April 10th.—Today we made another long journey of about forty miles, through a country uninteresting and flat, with very little grass and a sandy soil, in which several branches we crossed had lost their water. In the evening the face of the country became hilly, and, turning a few miles up towards the mountains, we found a good encampment on a pretty stream hidden among the hills, and handsomely timbered, principally with large cottonwoods."
"April 11th. A broad trail along the river here takes us out among the hills. Buen camino (good road) said one of the Indians, of whom we had inquired about the pass, and following it accordingly, it conducted us beautifully through a very broken country. * The country had now assumed a character of aridity, and the luxuriant green of the little streams wooded with willow, oak, or sycamore, looked very refreshing among the sandy hills."
Transcribed by Kathy Sedler.