THE GREAT HORSE RACE
1855
From all accounts, Fourth of July was celebrated in Los Angeles with
more or less enthusiasm from the time of the City's reorganization,
although afterward, as we shall see, the day was often neglected; but
certainly in 1855 the festivities were worthy of remembrance. There
was less formality, perhaps, and more cannonading than in later years;
music was furnished by a brass band from Fort Tejón; and Phineas
Banning was the stentorian "orator of the day." Two years previously,
Banning had provided a three days' celebration and barbecue for the
Fourth, attended by my brother; and I once enjoyed a barbecue at San
Juan Capistrano where the merriment, continuing for half a week,
marked both the hospitality and the leisurely habits of the people. In
those days (when men were not afraid of noise) boys, in celebrating
American Independence, made all the hullabaloo possible, untrammeled
by the nonsense of "a sane Fourth."
On the Fourth of July and other holidays, as well as on Sundays, men
from the country came to town, arrayed in their fanciest clothes; and,
mounted upon their most spirited and gaily-caparisoned _caballos de
silla_, or saddle-horses, they paraded the streets, as many as ten
abreast, jingling the metallic parts of their paraphernalia, admired
and applauded by the populace, and keenly alive to the splendid
appearance they and their outfits made, and to the effect sure to be
produced on the fair _señoritas_. The most popular thoroughfare for
this purpose was Main Street. On such occasions, the men wore short,
very tight-fitting jackets of bright-colored material--blue, green and
yellow being the favorite colors--and trimmed with gold and silver
lace or fringe. These jackets were so tight that often the wearers put
them on only with great difficulty. The _calzoneras_, or pantaloons,
were of the same material as the jackets, open on the side and flanked
with brass buttons. The openings exposed the _calzoncillos_, or
drawers. A fashionable adjunct was the Mexican garter, often costing
ten to fifteen dollars, and another was the high-heeled boot, so small
that ten minutes or more were required to draw it on. This boot was a
great conceit; but though experiencing much discomfort, the victim
could not be induced to increase the size.
The _serape_, worn by men, was the native substitute for the overcoat.
It was a narrow, Mexican blanket of finest wool, multicolored and
provided with a hole near the center large enough to let the wearer's
head through; and when not in actual use, it was thrown over the
saddle. The head-gear consisted in winter of a broad-rimmed,
high-crowned, woolen _sombrero_, usually brown, which was kept in
place during fast travel or a race by a ribbon or band fastened under
the chin; often, as in the familiar case of Ygnácio Lugo, the hat was
ornamented with beads. In summer, the rider substituted a shirt for
the _serape_ and a Panamá for the _sombrero_. The _caballero's_
outfit, in the case of some wealthy dons, exceeded a thousand dollars
in value; and it was not uncommon for fancy costumes to be handed down
as heirlooms.
The women, on the other hand, wore skirts of silk, wool or cotton,
according to their wealth or the season. Many of the female conceits
had not appeared in 1853; the grandmothers of the future suffragettes
wore, instead of bonnets and hats, a _rebozo_, or sort of scarf or
muffler, which covered their heads and shoulders and looked
delightfully picturesque. To don this gracefully was, in fact, quite
an art. Many of the native California ladies also braided their hair,
and wore circular combs around the back of their heads; at least this
was so until, with the advent of a greater number of American women,
their more modern, though less romantic, styles commenced to prevail,
when even the picturesque _mantilla_ was discarded.
Noting these differences of dress in early days, I should not forget
to state that there were both American and Mexican tailors here; among
the former being one McCoy and his son, merry companions whose
copartnership carousals were proverbial. The Mexican tailor had the
advantage of knowing just what the native requirements were, although
in the course of time his _Gringo_ rival came to understand the tastes
and prejudices of the _paisano_, and to obtain the better share of the
patronage. The cloth from which the _caballero's_ outfit was made
could be found in most of the stores.
As with clothes and tailors, so it was with other articles of apparel
and those who manufactured them; the natives had their own shoe- and
hat-makers, and their styles were unvarying. The genuine Panamá hat
was highly prized and often copied; and Francisco Velardes--who used a
grindstone bought of John Temple in 1852, now in the County
Museum--was one who sold and imitated Panamás of the fifties. A
product of the bootmakers' skill were leathern leggings, worn to
protect the trousers when riding on horseback. The _Gringos_ were then
given to copying the fashions of the natives; but as the pioneer
population increased, the Mexican came more and more to adopt American
styles.
Growing out of these exhibitions of horsemanship and of the natives'
fondness for display, was the rather important industry of making
Mexican saddles, in which quite a number of skilled _paisanos_ were
employed. Among the most expert was Francisco Moreno, who had a little
shop on the south side of Aliso Street, not far from Los Angeles. One
of these hand-worked saddles often cost two hundred dollars or more,
in addition to which expensive bridles, bits and spurs were deemed
necessary accessories. António María Lugo had a silver-mounted saddle,
bridle and spurs that cost fifteen hundred dollars.
On holidays and even Sundays, Upper Main Street--formerly called the
Calle de las Virgenes, or Street of the Maids, later San Fernando
Street--was the scene of horse races and their attendant festivities,
just as it used to be when money or gold was especially plentiful, if
one may judge from the stories of those who were here in the
prosperous year, 1850. People from all over the county visited Los
Angeles to take part in the sport, some coming from mere curiosity,
but the majority anxious to bet. Some money, and often a good deal of
stock changed hands, according to the success or failure of the
different favorites. It cannot be claimed, perhaps, that the Mexican,
like the _Gringo_, made a specialty of developing horseflesh to
perfection; yet Mexicans owned many of the fast horses, such as Don
José Sepúlveda's _Sydney Ware_ and _Black Swan_, and the Californian
_Sarco_ belonging to Don Pio Pico.
The most celebrated of all these horse races of early days was that
between José Andrés Sepúlveda's _Black Swan_ and Pio Pico's _Sarco_,
the details of which I learned, soon after I came here, from Tom Mott.
Sepúlveda had imported the _Black Swan_ from Australia, in 1852, the
year of the race, while Pico chose a California steed to defend the
honors of the day. Sepúlveda himself went to San Francisco to receive
the consignment in person, after which he committed the thoroughbred
into the keeping of Bill Brady, the trainer, who rode him down to Los
Angeles, and gave him as much care as might have been bestowed upon a
favorite child. They were to race nine miles, the _carrera_ commencing
on San Pedro Street near the city limits, and running south a league
and a half and return; and the reports of the preparation having
spread throughout California, the event came to be looked upon as of
such great importance, that, from San Francisco to San Diego, whoever
had the money hurried to Los Angeles to witness the contest and bet on
the result. Twenty-five thousand dollars, in addition to five hundred
horses, five hundred mares, five hundred heifers, five hundred calves
and five hundred sheep were among the princely stakes put up; and the
wife of José Andrés was driven to the scene of the memorable contest
with a veritable fortune in gold slugs wrapped in a large
handkerchief. Upon arriving there, she opened her improvised purse and
distributed the shining fifty-dollar pieces to all of her attendants
and servants, of whom there were not a few, with the injunction that
they should wager the money on the race; and her example was followed
by others, so that, in addition to the cattle, land and merchandise
hazarded, a considerable sum of money was bet by the contending
parties and their friends. The _Black Swan_ won easily. The peculiar
character of some of the wagers recalls to me an instance of a later
date when a native customer of Louis Phillips tried to borrow a wagon,
in order to bet the same on a horse race. If the customer won, he was
to return the wagon at once; but if he lost, he was to pay Phillips a
certain price for the vehicle.
Many kinds of amusements marked these festal occasions, and
bull-fights were among the diversions patronized by some Angeleños,
the Christmas and New Year holidays of 1854-55 being celebrated in
that manner. I dare say that in earlier days Los Angeles may have had
its Plaza de Toros, as did the ancient metropolis of the great country
to the South; but in the later stages of the sport here, the
_toreador_ and his colleagues conducted their contests in a
gaudily-painted corral, in close proximity to the Plaza. They were
usually proclaimed as professionals from Mexico or Spain, but were
often engaged for a livelihood, under another name, in a less
dangerous and romantic occupation near by. Admission was charged, and
some pretense to a grandstand was made; but through the apertures in
the fence of the corral those who did not pay might, by dint of hard
squinting, still get a peep at the show. In this corral, in the
fifties, I saw a fight between a bear and a bull. I can still
recollect the crowd, but I cannot say which of the infuriated animals
survived. Toward the end of 1858, a bull-fight took place in the Calle
de Toros, and there was great excitement when a horse was instantly
killed.
Cock-fights were also a very common form of popular entertainment, and
sports were frequently seen going around the streets with fighting
cocks under each arm. The fights generally took place in Sonora Town,
though now and then they were held in San Gabriel. Mexicans carried on
quite a trade in game roosters among the patrons of this pastime, of
whom M. G. Santa Cruz was one of the best known. Sometimes, too,
roosters contributed to still another brutal diversion known as
_correr el gallo_: their necks having been well greased, they would be
partially buried in the earth alongside a public highway, when riders
on fleet horses dashed by at full speed, and tried to seize the fowls
and pull them out! This reminds me of another game in which horsemen,
speeding madly by a succession of suspended, small rings, would try,
by the skillful handling of a long spear, to collect as many of the
rings as they could--a sport illustrated in one of the features of the
modern merry-go-round.
The easy-going temperament of the native gave rise to many an amusing
incident. I once asked a woman, as we were discussing the coming
marriage of her daughter, whom the dark-eyed _señorita_ was to marry;
whereupon she replied, "I forget;" and turning to her daughter, she
asked: "_¿Como se llama?_" (What did you say was his name?)
George Dalton bought a tract of land on Washington, east of San Pedro
Street, in 1855, and set out a vineyard and orchard which he continued
to cultivate until 1887, when he moved to Walnut Avenue. Dalton was a
Londoner who sailed from Liverpool on the day of Queen Victoria's
coronation, to spend some years wandering through Pennsylvania and
Ohio. About 1851, he followed to the Azusa district his brother, Henry
Dalton, who had previously been a merchant in Peru; but, preferring
the embryo city to the country, he returned to Los Angeles to live.
Two sons, E. H. Dalton, City Water Overseer, in 1886-87, and Winnall
Travelly Dalton, the vineyardist, were offspring of Dalton's first
marriage. Elizabeth M., a daughter, married William H. Perry. Dalton
Avenue is named after the Dalton family.
In another place I have spoken of the dearth of trees in the town when
I came, though the editor of the _Star_ and others had advocated
tree-planting. This was not due to mere neglect; there was prejudice
against such street improvement. The School Trustees had bought a
dozen or more black locust-trees, "at eight bits each," and planted
them on the school lot at Second and Spring streets. Drought and
squirrels in 1855 attacked the trees, and while the pedagogue went
after the "varmints" with a shot-gun, he watered the trees from the
school barrel. The carrier, however, complained that drinking-water
was being wasted; and only after several rhetorical bouts was the
schoolmaster allowed to save what was already invested. The
locust-trees flourished until 1884, when they were hewn down to make
way for the City Hall.
Two partially-successful attempts were made, in 1855, to introduce the
chestnut-tree here. Jean Louis Sainsevain, coming to Los Angeles in
that year, brought with him some seed; and this doubtless led Solomon
Lazard to send back to Bordeaux for some of the Italian variety.
William Wolfskill, who first brought here the persimmon-tree, took a
few of the seeds imported by Lazard and planted them near his
homestead; and a dozen of the trees later adorned the beautiful garden
of O. W. Childs who, in the following year, started some black walnut
seed obtained in New York. H. P. Dorsey was also a pioneer walnut
grower.
My brother's plans at this time included a European visit, commencing
in 1855 and lasting until 1856, during which trip, in Germany, on
November 11th, 1855, he was married. After his Continental tour, he
returned to San Francisco and was back in Los Angeles some time before
1857. On this European voyage, my brother was entrusted with the care
and delivery of American Government documents. From London he carried
certain papers to the American Minister in Denmark; and in furtherance
of his mission, he was given the following introduction and passport
from James Buchanan, then Minister Plenipotentiary to the Court of St.
James and later President of the United States:
No. 282 BEARER OF DESPATCHES
LEGATION OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA AT LONDON.
To all to whom these presents shall come, Greeting;
Know Ye, that the bearer hereof, Joseph P. Newmark, Esq.,
is proceeding to Hamburgh and Denmark, bearing Despatches
from this Legation, to the United States' Legation at
Copenhagen.
These are therefore to request all whom it may concern, to
permit him to pass freely without let or molestation, and
to extend to him such friendly aid and protection, as would
be extended to Citizens and Subjects of Foreign Countries,
resorting to the United States, bearing Despatches.
In testimony whereof, I, James Buchanan, Envoy
Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary, of the United
States of America, at London, have hereunto set my hand,
and caused the Seal of this Legation to be affixed this
Tenth day of July A.D. 1855 and of the Independence of the
United States the Eightieth.
(Signed,)
JAMES BUCHANAN.
(Seal of the Legation of the U. S.
of America to Great Britain.)
I have always accepted the fact of my brother's selection to convey
these documents as evidence that, in the few years since his arrival
in America, he had attained a position of some responsibility. Aside
from this, I am inclined to relate the experience because it shows the
then limited resources of our Federal authorities abroad, especially
as compared with their comprehensive facilities to-day, including
their own despatch agents, messengers and Treasury representatives
scattered throughout Europe.
A trip of Prudent Beaudry abroad about this time reminds me that
specialization in medical science was as unknown in early Los Angeles
as was specialization in business, and that persons suffering from
grave physical disorders frequently visited even remoter points than
San Francisco in search of relief. In 1855, Beaudry's health having
become seriously impaired, he went to Paris to consult the famous
oculist, Sichel; but he received little or no benefit. While in
Europe, Beaudry visited the Exposition of that year, and was one of
the first Angeleños, I suppose, to see a World's Fair.
These early tours to Europe by Temple, Beaudry and my brother, and
some of my own experiences, recall the changes in the manner of
bidding Los Angeles travelers _bon-voyage_. Friends generally
accompanied the tourist to the outlying steamer, reached by a tug or
lighter; and when the leave-taking came, there were cheers,
repetitions of _adiós_ and the waving of hats and handkerchiefs, which
continued until the steamer had disappeared from view.
The first earthquake felt throughout California, of which I have any
recollection, occurred on July 11th, 1855, somewhat after eight
o'clock in the evening, and was a most serious local disturbance.
Almost every structure in Los Angeles was damaged, and some of the
walls were left with large cracks. Near San Gabriel, the adobe in
which Hugo Reid's Indian wife dwelt was wrecked, notwithstanding that
it had walls four feet thick, with great beams of lumber drawn from
the mountains of San Bernardino. In certain spots, the ground rose; in
others, it fell; and with the rising and falling, down came chimneys,
shelves full of salable stock or household necessities, pictures and
even parts of roofs, while water in barrels, and also in several of
the _zanjas_, bubbled and splashed and overflowed. Again, on the 14th
of April, the 2d of May and the 20th of September of the following
year, we were alarmed by recurring and more or less continuous shocks
which, however, did little or no damage.