We are fairly out of Los Angeles when the character of the scenery
changes. The railroad here runs through one of the most fertile counties
in the State,--the rich bottom lands being formed by the deposits of
ages from the overflow of rivers and creeks from the Sierra Madre range.
Not an acre of waste land is to be seen anywhere. Everything is clothed
in the softest green, and only in the far distance are seen the hills
and higher mountains of a brownish violet color, with the boldest
outlines against the sky. A more diversified farming district is seldom
seen. Orchards of prunes, walnuts, apples and figs are met with on
either side of the track, here and there expansive vineyards with their
characteristic green, or groves of straight and stately gums, like
immense square blocks of verdure, planted all along from the nearest
fields to the far distant hills. We pass in succession Ballona,
Florence, Downey and Norwalk. The country around the two latter places
seems especially attractive,--orchards as far as we can see, vineyards
and native pastures. We pass villages and farmhouses, here and there a
more pretentious villa, and, in some spots more lovely than the
surrounding, many a mansion has been erected with luxury and taste.
We are soon in Orange county, and the scene changes some, the soil
being, if possible, more fertile. We pass large orange groves of the
deepest green, and immense fields of corn, squashes, pumpkins, peanuts,
beans, and here and there walnut groves and plantations of young fig
trees. Anaheim, Orange and Santa Ana come in quick succession; we are in
the center of a raisin district of the very greatest interest. We can
hardly realize the change. Not having been here since the boom,
everything seems almost new. Santa Ana has grown to be the queen of the
valley, and is undoubtedly, together with its two sister cities, Orange
and Tustin, one of the most prosperous as well as lovely places to be
found in the beautiful South. As we board the street car and ride up
town from the depot, we realize the change even more. On every side are
signs of wealth and refinement, of new ideas and new capital, both
mostly imported from the East. Broad avenues one hundred feet wide, on
either side, lined with trees of various kinds, cultivated fields
immediately beyond, which, with cottages, villas and churches, all speak
of a prosperous and intelligent population.
Santa Ana has her share of these stately structures. The Brunswick is as
fine and substantial a building as any one could wish,--lofty and airy
and of imposing architecture, large rooms and spacious halls. The boom
that has been so much misjudged has done much more than settle up the
country and bring capital. It has left behind substantial improvements
and a taste for architecture, the arts and sciences, which can but be of
permanent value to the country. It brought the country at one bound from
its former frontier life and characteristics to a high degree of
civilization and refinement. It brought capital, soil, climate and
energy together in a way that is hardly found anywhere else out of our
State. The boom is over, but the benefits of the boom are yet here, and
are permanent.
Santa Ana, Orange and Tustin are like three precious stones in a ring of
verdure. Only a few miles apart, they are like the villas on the
outskirts of a central imaginary city, from which the wealthy and poor
likewise fled to a more retired country life, to enjoy both seclusion
and society, both the pleasures of country life and the advantages of an
active city, where every luxury and necessity can be found at the door
of every home.
Santa Ana has a fine, large, central business street, with new and
costly brick blocks containing stores of every description. In this
climate, however, we can see no necessity for ice, and the manufacturer
and mixer of cool drinks can but find his business unprofitable. Up and
down this street a line of cars runs all day long at fixed hours,
connecting with other lines in Tustin and Orange. A trip or two on any
of the lines is one of real pleasure.
Tustin is only two or three miles away, nearer the hills. The car, an
open one with many seats, winds its way under shady lanes on either
side, bordered by large and graceful pepper trees covered with spicy and
fragrant blossoms. Here and there we see alongside the pavement an
enormous sycamore tree, a monument of olden days and the native
vegetation of the country. On both sides of the avenue are sidewalks of
cement, and they who prefer walking can do so for miles under the shady
trees without getting dusty or becoming heated by the sun. These
sidewalks are marvels of beauty and comfort. On one side are old and
graceful trees with drooping limbs, on the other are well-kept cypress
hedges trimmed square and even, or long natural barriers of
ever-blooming geraniums in numerous varieties, of every favorite shade
of color from crimson to palest pink. Over the hedges we look into
blue-grass lawns, green and well kept and exceedingly attractive.
Suddenly we are in the middle of Tustin City. A beautiful, even
magnificent bank building on one corner, a store on the opposite, two or
three smaller shops and the inevitable splendid and elaborate hotel, and
the town is fully described. Immediately adjoining are the beautiful and
evergreen lawns and trees,--the city and country actually combined.
A trip to Orange reveals the very same features, only we pass through a
more fertile country, with vineyards and orchards on every side, orange
groves of various ages, walnut orchards, fields of tall corn, peanuts,
beans and melons. Between all wind the shaded avenues with pepper and
gum, cypress, pine or yellow flowering grevillea. The soil is everywhere
of the richest kind, of a color between ashy green and chocolate.
Nowhere have we seen such magnificent Indian corn,--whole fields where
the stalks are from twelve to sixteen feet high. Orange is a more
pretentious town than Tustin, but hardly any more beautiful, and far
less secluded and quiet. There are two large and fine hotels, the one of
brick being in town, while the other, the family hotel, lies in the
suburbs in bowers of evergreen trees and gardens. In the middle of the
town there is a plaza with a fountain and an exquisite little garden
well planned and better kept. The lawns are like the softest velvet, and
are bordered with blue and green flowers, with beds of sweetest
mignonette, while bananas and palms spread their stately foliage in the
center.
The climate of this part of Southern California is excellent. The
thermometer stands at midday at eighty in the shade; in the evening
there is always a breeze. Many of those I meet complain as usual, and
greet me with the inevitable, “How warm it is to-day,” and our as
inevitable answer is, that we cannot feel it, and that it just seems
delightful to us. People here observe and feel the changes of
temperature much more than we do farther north. With us they share the
habit of complaining even if there is nothing to complain of.
The vineyards of Santa Ana have suffered much from a vine disease which
may be compared with consumption or the Oriental plague in man. But
every one thinks here that the pest will run its course and become
harmless, and even now some of the vineyards are being replanted with
fresh vines. The oranges do eminently well, but they must be sprayed and
constant watch kept for the red scale imported here from Australia by an
enterprising nurseryman. The plantations of walnuts are being rapidly
extended, and nurseries of young walnut trees just appearing above the
ground are seen in many places, the plants probably amounting to
millions. The walnut generally planted is the seedling soft-shell and
the common Santa Ana walnut, than which there is none choicer and more
valued on the coast. Prunes are also a favorite crop, and pay well if
not allowed to overbear, in which case the succeeding crop will be
small. The same may be said of the apricot. These trees are here fine
and healthy, and of a deeper and finer green than is seen almost
anywhere else; but last year the trees bore too much, and this year the
crop is by far not what it should be.
The resources of this country are such that the partial failure of a
single crop will cause no serious injury. New resources are developed
every day; there are few plants that do not thrive here. In the gardens
as well as in the fields we see the tender semi-tropical plants, which
cannot stand any frost, growing close to varieties from the North.
Bananas, date palms, walnuts and oranges grow in the same field with
peaches, apples and prunes. Pepper and camphor trees and the tender
grevillea are on one side of the avenue, while on the other side we may
find elm, eucalyptus or even the beautiful umbrella.
Irrigation is practiced on every farm. Fifteen thousand acres are
covered by water stock, but not all irrigated yet. Just now the orange
groves are irrigated, and I observe their methods. The land is always
leveled before anything is planted, as there is too little water here to
waste any on unlevel land. One way to irrigate an orchard is to plow
furrows in between the rows of trees, and then let the water run in
them. Another way is to check the whole orchard with small levees,
inclosing thus a little square around every tree, and the square check
of one tree meeting the same of the adjoining tree. This is actually
flooding the land. Deciduous trees and vines grow without irrigation,
but to get a good crop irrigation is necessary. The large, dry and rocky
creek beds speak of the water that is wasted in winter time in flowing
to the sea. Practically nothing of it is then saved. Irrigation
districts under the Wright law are formed and forming, and everybody
seems hopeful that in course of time there will be water enough to
irrigate all the land that is good enough to be irrigated. Some of the
finest ranches in the State lie right at the feet of Santa Ana. The San
Joaquin ranch contains one hundred thousand acres, I am told, and it is
not yet cut up, and thus some of the best land around Santa Ana is yet
only used as pasture. The owners failed to sell in the time of the boom
and must now wait until the land that is already covered with ditches
will be fully settled before they can sell, but the time, we predict, is
not very far off.