SPANISH GRANTS--SQUATTERS--SQUATTER FIGHTS--A SPANISH RANCHE--GOOD
QUARTERS--FLEAS--VANITY--VACCAROS--QUILP--ENGLISH SADDLES--ANTELOPE
HUNT--RATTLE-SNAKES--QUILP WALTZES--CALIFORNIAN
HORSES--SADDLES--HORSE-BREAKING--A TAME HORSE.
_August, 1850._
Leaving Sonoma at daylight, we passed through the Sonoma Valley, which
in many places, but a few hundred yards in width and studded with groups
of oaks and flowering evergreens, has all the appearance of a private
park bounded by mountains--the herds of deer, of which now and then we
catch a glimpse, strengthening this resemblance. After following the
trail for fifteen miles, we ascended a rise from which we had a view of
Santa Rosa Valley. It was a continuation of that we had traversed, and
was divided from it only by a small stream, which marked the boundary of
either. From our elevation, the twenty miles of well timbered land, of
which Don Raymond was owner, lay stretched before us: large herds of
cattle were grazing on the plain, and near the mountains which bounded
the ranche, “mañadas” of wild horses could be perceived, with here and
there a drove of elk or antelopes.
Previous to the occupation of this country by the Americans, its fertile
plains had been granted away by the Mexican government, to such as chose
to settle here and stock the land. The terms on which these grants were
to be held, easy as they were, were for the most part evaded, and after
a new settler had portioned out for himself so many square leagues of a
fat valley, and had sent the record of his property to head quarters, he
built himself a house, bought a few head of cattle and horses, which
were turned off to breed, and he became from that time a “ranchero.”
Cattle increased and multiplied, and at last were killed for their
hides, which were sent down occasionally to San Francisco, and there
placed on board ship.
By the treaty formed between the United States and Mexico previous to
the occupation of California, the original Spanish grants of land were
guaranteed to the native settlers in all cases where the claim could be
properly established. A commission to enquire into these land claims was
appointed by the United States government, and its labours still
continue. The Americans therefore on their arrival in the country had
the mortification to discover that nearly every foot of arable land was
private property, and that there remained nothing but barren hills and
swamps to settle on and improve, under the pre-emption laws of the
United States. They therefore _squatted_ where they pleased on the
Spanish ranches, under the plea that the land commissioners _might_
decide the grant on which they were to be illegal; but in reality
because each man wanted a piece of land and was determined to have it,
the Spanish owners being powerless to dispossess them of the part they
chose to select. The consequence is, that even now in “eighteen hundred
and fifty-four,” when most of the land-claims have been confirmed by the
commissioners, the Spanish owner of a ranche may cast his eye over the
property that was but the other day a waving tract of wild grass, and
behold, it is parcelled out and enclosed, and cultivated from end to
end, and from squatters’ huts curls the smoke on every side. Armed with
the law, the Spanish owner says “Vamos usted,” (be off); armed with his
rifle the squatter says something much ruder, but to the purpose, and
remains. Already have there been serious squatter fights; the papers
daily record “Squatter difficulties,” in which men fight, and shed each
other’s blood savagely, over a patch of soil, which in many instances
belongs to neither of them. So that one of the wisest and most
beneficent laws of the United States, is here productive of evil to
society.
The squatters in the vicinity of Sacramento city organised themselves
into a banditti, and fought “en masse” in defence of their stolen
property; but they had made the great mistake of squatting on land that
belonged to Americans; these latter sallied from the city with the mayor
at their head, and the squatters were defeated and retired with loss,
leaving some dead on the field--not however without riddling the mayor,
who behaved with great courage, and who must have been much damaged, as
the cost of repairing him, when sent in to government by his medical
attendant, amounted to about two thousand pounds sterling. But as there
are reasonable men among all classes, so among the squatters are to be
found many who are willing to purchase their claims, conditionally on
the owner’s grant being eventually found to be valid; still taken
altogether the subject will be one of endless strife, if not bloodshed.
Hundreds have settled down quietly on land from which the present owners
are unwilling or unable to dislodge them. These men will raise around
them permanent improvements, and will look to the few acres of land they
have enclosed for a livelihood for themselves and families; a year or
two hence, perhaps, the land they have appropriated will change hands,
and the new purchaser will ask his belligerent friends down, as I have
witnessed more than once, to stay at his house and help him to “_turn
off the squatters_.” Down go the friends and take their fire-arms, as
coolly as if they were accepting an invitation to a week’s partridge
shooting. Occasionally when the proprietor and his friends, armed to the
teeth, present themselves at the door of a squatter’s log-hut, they find
the owner surrounded by _his_ friends, prepared to resist intrusion.
Sometimes the rival parties exchange shots, but I have always found that
in these cases, the owner of the property has walked quietly back again,
and the squatter has remained.
* * * * *
We dismounted at the door of a long low “adobe”[3] house, where we were
met and hospitably greeted by Don Raymond. Having much refreshed
ourselves by bathing in the rivulet which ran past the house, we were
rejoiced to find that our host had prepared a dinner, for of this we
were in need; and whilst we eat, a couple of Indian girls tickled our
ears and noses with long green boughs, with the intention of keeping off
the flies. We cheerfully acknowledged the merit not only of the Mexican
cookery, but of the native wine of the south, which our host brought out
for the occasion. We were then introduced to his wife and two sisters;
these latter were young, with handsome sunburnt faces. My knowledge of
Spanish was very limited, but I always prefaced my remarks by a
statement of this fact, thus I relieved myself from the necessity of
paying those unmeaning compliments which, particularly when delivered in
bad Spanish, must be highly amusing to Mexican ladies. As there was an
absence of ceremony, and an evident wish on the part of the family to
set us at our ease, before night we were on excellent terms, and whilst
one of the “vaccaros” played the guitar we waltzed. Don Raymond produced
more wine of the south and “cigarittas” in abundance; and when the
ladies retired and Don Raymond showed me to my quarters, I determined on
not hurrying myself respecting the purchase of mules so long as the
hours could be made to pass so agreeably; as for Thomas, into whose head
the wine of the south had mounted, it was with the greatest difficulty
he could be prevented from embracing Don Raymond in the warmth of his
satisfaction. Our host then left us, and we were immediately attacked by
the fleas with a vigour that was perfectly astonishing.
In the course of my experience I have been tortured by sand-flies in the
Eastern Archipelago, and have made acquaintance with every kind of
mosquito, from Malta to Acapulco, including of course the famous “tiger”
breed, against which there is no resource but flight. I remember that,
when sick at Hong Kong, I was crammed into the cabin of an old
store-ship so full of cockroaches, and these so ravenous, that they kept
my toe-nails quite close every night, and would even try the flavour of
the top of my head, and, when they found that to be all bone, they eat
my hair and whiskers, the last circumstance being very annoying, from
the fact that whiskers were scarce with me in those days; but I would
have preferred any of these annoyances to the attack of those Santa Rosa
fleas. On lighting a candle we found the place alive with them; unlike,
both in appearance and manner, the modest flea of ordinary life, that
seeks concealment as soon as by accident it is unearthed, these insects,
reared in the rough school of a wild bullock’s hide, boldly faced as
they attacked us. We discovered the next day that the room, the floor
and walls of which were of earth, had contained hides, and had been
cleared out for the purpose of our accommodation.
But, as a general rule, the Californian houses are alive with fleas,
they thrive in the cracks of the mudbrick walls and in the hides with
which these places are always strewed. No pains are taken to eject them,
and Don Raymond remarked, on our mentioning the fact, that we should get
used to them; he and his family never gave the little “malditos” a
thought.
After an early breakfast of “tortillas” and fresh milk we commenced at
once to look up our shooting gear. Close to us, on one side, was a marsh
full of wild fowl, and, stretching for miles round, was the wooded
plain, covered with grass, in some places as tall as ourselves. This
plain, our host assured us, abounded with deer, elk, and antelope. For a
reason, which afterwards appeared, Don Raymond was very anxious that
Thomas and I should mount two of his horses, and, in company with some
of his Spanish friends, ride over the ranche; we were to take our rifles
and shoot all that came in our way. I should of course have preferred to
have been allowed to go out on foot and seek my venison in a more
sportsman-like manner, than in the company of a dozen clattering,
jingling “Caballeros;” but I could not do otherwise than accept the
invitation, particularly as it suggested itself to me that Don Raymond’s
main object in mounting us was that we should at once appreciate the
beauty and extent of the Santa Rosa Ranche.
So that even among these most primitive of agriculturists vanity of
possession stands uppermost in all its vulgarity; what has this man, I
thought, to show me but a tract of land, rich certainly in nature’s
gifts, but in which his only pride consists that _he owns_ it? I could
have seen it much better by myself when walking over it, but to please
his egotism I must admire it _his way_ and sacrifice my own pleasure;
but how I hugged myself when I considered that here at least were no fat
pigs, no model styes, with which to bore one; no oatcake-fed bullocks to
be measured with a cambric pocket-handkerchief and praised, whilst you
held your nose; not even a heap of “compo-manure” to sit and gloat over.
At the worst it was but a pleasant gallop over the wild oats, in a pure
air, and through a lovely country.
In front of the house was a court-yard of considerable extent, and part
of this was sheltered by a porch. Here, when the “vaccaros” have nothing
to call them to the field, they pass the day, looking like retainers of
a rude court. A dozen wild, vicious little horses, with rough wooden
saddles on their backs, stand ever ready for work; whilst lounging
about, the “vaccaros” smoke, play the guitar, or twist up a new
“riatta”[4] of hide or horse-hair. When the sun gets warm they go to
sleep in the shade, whilst the little
[Illustration]
horses, who remain in the sunshine, do the same apparently, for they
shut their eyes and never stir. Presently a “vaccaro,” judging the time
by the sun, gets up and yawns, and staggering lazily towards his horse,
gathers up his “riatta” and twists it round the animals neck; the
others, awakened, rise and do the same, all yawning with their eyes half
open, looking as lazy a set as ever were seen, as indeed they are when
on foot. Huppa!--Anda!--away they all go in a cloud of dust, splashing
through the river, waving their lassos round their heads with a wild
shout, and disappearing from the sight almost as soon as mounted. The
“vaccaro” wants at all times to ride furiously, and the little horses’
eyes are opened wide enough before they receive the second dig of their
rider’s iron spurs.
We found great bustle and preparation going on in the court-yard when we
rose; it was full of horses and “vaccaros,” and some neighbouring ranche
owners having arrived, their horses, which were handsome and of large
size, were standing near the house, champing their bits. The saddles and
bridles of these were ornamented with silver, and the stirrup-leathers
were covered with bear skins in such a way as to form a very secure
armour for the legs against the attacks of wild cattle.
Breakfast over, the Spanish guests were introduced; they were all fine
dashing looking fellows, with the exception of one, a short stout man;
from the first moment of our meeting war was tacitly declared between us
and this gentleman; we found that he was a suitor for the hand of the
eldest sister, who, by the way, owned a part of the ranche, and I
suppose he imagined it was our intention to contest this prize with him;
for he commenced at once to show his disapprobation of our presence; we
called this fellow Quilp. Each of the party had his horse waiting in
readiness--ours had yet to be selected from a drove of about a hundred,
which were enclosed in a “corral,” or circular enclosure, that was close
by the house. The wild horses of the country generally are small, of
these I shall speak by and bye; but Don Raymond, who took the lead among
the _fast_ Californians, prided himself on the possession of a “mañada”
of horses of a superior breed; these he had pointed out to me the day
before, and among them I had observed, all rough as they were, some fine
beasts. A few steps brought us to the “corral;” Quilp in the foreground,
muttering something which we took for granted was insidious advice to
Raymond to pick us out “wild ones.”
“You English ride?” asked Raymond. I replied modestly, that we rode a
little sometimes, as I knew that the slightest approach to assurance on
my part would be the signal for a wild stallion being selected for my
accommodation. However, Raymond picked us out two high-spirited, but
broken-in beasts, that seemed about as well behaved as any that were
there. When they were brought into the court, and blinded as usual,
Thomas and I produced, and girthed up, our English saddles, on which we
had ridden up from Benicia; we were immediately surrounded by the whole
crowd of guests and “vaccaros;” bah! those were not saddles--there was
no horn to which to fasten the lasso--the stirrups did not protect the
foot and leg when the horse fell down and rolled over you! I did not
know Spanish enough to answer them, and perhaps it was as well, for I
should most certainly have addressed myself to Quilp most strongly on
the subject, as the instant he saw my “pigskin” he made a point of
turning up what nose Providence had endowed him with, and that was not
much. But I observed with pleasure that their observations were directed
principally to the fact of the flat smooth surface of our saddles as
compared with their “demi-peaks,” from which the body receives support
on every side. Thomas had a fine seat on a horse, and both of us had had
some practice in rough riding both at home and abroad, or otherwise I
should have remonstrated with Raymond respecting the wish so evidently
expressed by his friends of amusing themselves at our expense.
I had but one rifle I could carry on horseback, so slinging that on my
back, away we went, and as the horses warmed under their exercise, and
we shook ourselves into our seats, I observed with pleasure that Thomas
was both sitting and handling his horse well, and took the fallen timber
that came in our way in capital style. However, to shorten this part of
the story, the Spaniards soon became less bumptious on the subject, and
we flew over the plain at great speed.
Before long we saw a herd of antelope grazing at some distance, and the
Spaniards pulled up and prepared their lassos. The antelope at this time
of the year are very fat, and comparatively speaking do not run, or
bound rather, fast through the long grass, so that if headed there is a
_chance_ for an expert horseman to catch one with the “riatta,” and it
was with the intention of showing me if possible this feat, that our
host had made up the party. I had no sooner unslung my rifle than I was
satisfied that there was no possibility of shooting from the saddle, for
my beast, who would have been quiet as a lamb had I whirled a lasso
round his head, became unmanageable at the presence of the rifle. We
were to ride round and head the antelope whilst the “vaccaros” drove
them towards us. As we galloped through the long grass towards the
position chosen, I told Thomas to keep close to me and prepare to hold
my horse, for I felt it would be excessively annoying if such a fellow
as Quilp for instance should catch an antelope with his bit of rope, and
I be debarred from even a shot at the herd.
When we were well ahead of them, the drove started at the sight of the
“vaccaros,” and a few strides of our horses brought some of us right in
the line they were taking; my foot had scarcely left the stirrup when
they flew past with rapid bounds. Don Raymond spurred at the headmost
bucks, but his lasso fell short; three does brought up the rear; at one
of these I fired and wounded it, but it plunged into the thicket with
the rest. Seeing that nothing had fallen to the report of the rifle, the
Spaniards now went slowly homewards; whilst I searched the thicket and
found my doe dying within a few hundred yards. Raymond returned for us,
and leaving the venison in charge of the “vaccaros,” we rode home. On
the way I succeeded in explaining to Raymond that we preferred hunting
the deer on foot not only for the advantages of exercise, but of the
cover which was afforded by the long grass.
Raymond now, for the first time, pointed out to me that the rattlesnakes
were very abundant in the valley, and this we afterwards discovered to
be true. It destroyed in a great measure the pleasure of our sport, for
we lost many a good shot from looking on the ground--which men are apt
to do occasionally when once satisfied of the existence of a venomous
reptile, the bite of which is by all accounts mortal. The rattlesnake is
seldom seen, it glides away through the long grass on the approach of
man or beast, and for this reason cattle are seldom bitten by it. But it
allows you to approach very closely before it moves, and the rattle of
its tail even in retreat is very unpleasant to hear. Higher up the
country we afterwards killed one or two young ones; but we soon
exercised such precautions as insured our not being brought too
frequently in contact with them. I have heard of many remedies for
rattlesnake bites, and of many fatal cases; but had any of my party been
unfortunate enough to have been bitten very seriously it was agreed
between us that the unbitten ones should immediately apply a red-hot
iron to the part affected, and then give the victim a powerful dose of
castor oil, and leave him to repose; but I doubt if the complete cautery
would have been carried out!
Before we arrived at the house Quilp had got scent of the antelope, and
had departed.
From this time we found ample employment for our guns, and soon
succeeded in bringing in some black-tailed deer. Hares were in abundance
close to the house, whilst in the marshes wild fowl were plentiful, so
that we kept our host’s larder well stored, and Quilp (who returned and
made himself quite at home) became quite sleek from good living.
As we were always tired with our day’s work, and had moreover our guns
to clean, we left Quilp to do all the waltzing; and when he had enjoyed
this pastime until he panted like an over-driven prize ox, he would sit
down on a stool in the porch, and throwing one leg over the other,
would twang the old guitar and accompany it with a Spanish hymn to the
Virgin, which, being delivered in a dismal falsetto, bore much
resemblance to the noise of a wheelbarrow that requires greasing, and
was about as musical.
[Illustration]
The small native horses of the country are remarkable for sureness of
foot and great powers of endurance; half-starved, unshod, and
overweighted, these ponies will perform long journies at great speed,
with great courage; but, alas! for them, in a country where horseflesh
is so cheap and riders are so merciless, the noble qualities of this
animal meet no reward; and the long day’s journey bravely accomplished,
the “vaccaro” takes his saddle off the panting beast, and turns him off
to die or not, according to his constitution.
The Californian saddle is very rough in appearance, being formed simply
of wood and hide, but great care is bestowed both on the material and
form, and for the duties required of them they are admirable. The
“vaccaro” is in his saddle all day, and it forms his pillow by night;
when once he gets a good “saddle-tree” nothing can induce him to part
with it, and you may see a dozen of these “vaccaros” standing round a
rusty-looking saddle, listening to its owner’s praises as he points out
its beauties. These saddles are also well adapted for long journies,
affording, as they do, so much support to the body.
When the tame horses attached to a ranche begin to be “used up” with
hard work, and the stud requires replenishing, the “vaccaros” start for
the mountains, and return shortly driving before them a band of wild
colts, which, with some difficulty, they force into the corral, where
they are enclosed. The “vaccaros” now enter to select the likely colts,
the mad herd fly round the corral, but the unerring lasso arrests the
career of the selected victim, who is dragged, with his fore feet firmly
planted in the ground, half-strangled, to the court yard, where a strong
leather blind is at once placed over his eyes; at this he hangs his
head, and remains quite still, his fore feet still planted in the ground
ready to resist any forward movement. Then the “vaccaro,” always keeping
his eye on the horse’s heels and mouth, places a folded blanket on his
back, and on that the saddle, divested of all incumbrances, this he
girths up with all his power; the bridle is on in an instant, so simple
is its construction; how free from ornament is the bit, how plain and
unpretending is that rusty iron prong, which, at the least pressure on
the rein, will enter the _roof of the horse’s mouth_. Now the “vaccaro”
is seated, and nothing remains but to remove the blind; this is done by
an assisting “vaccaro,” who gets bit on the shoulder for his trouble,
and the work begins. Single jumps, buck jumps, stiff-legged jumps;
double kicks; amalgamated jumps and kicks, aided by a twist of the back
bone; plunges and rears; these constitute his first efforts to dislodge
the “vaccaro,” who meets each movement with a dig of his long iron
spurs: then the horse stands still and tries to shake his burden off,
finally he gives a few mad plunges in the air, and then falls down on
his side.
It is now that the formation of the Californian saddle and the large
wooden stirrups protect the rider: a small bar lashed crossways to the
peak of the saddle prevents the horse from rolling over, and when he
rises his tormentor rises with him unhurt; finding all efforts useless,
he bounds into the plain, to return in a few hours sobbing, panting, but
mastered. The blind is again put on, the saddle and bridle removed,
several buckets of cold water are thrown over his reeking sides, and he
is turned into the “corral,” an astonished horse, to await the morrow,
when his lesson will proceed, and receive less opposition from him! In
three days he is considered broken, and is called a “manzo,” or tame
horse, but admirably as docility has been inculcated in this short
period, he is not yet by any means the sort of horse that would suit
those elderly gentlemen who advertise in the “Times” for a “quiet cob,”
nor indeed is he fit for any one but a Californian “vaccaro.”