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1963

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N<DTICIA5 QUARTERLY BULLETIN OF THE SANTA BARBARA HISTORICAL SOCIETY

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I, MINE and ME

By Joe De Yong*

Born in 1894, I was five years old when “Pop” came back up to Webster Grove—a suburb of St. Louis, where jny grandparents lived—to take Mom and me down to Indian Territory, where he had decided to locate, at Dewey —a brand new little town in the Cherokee Nation.

In those slow-moving times—actually, only a night and a day’s travel, by train—to us, and our never-adventurous relatives, “The Nation” seemed a far-away, mysterious region of romance and vaguely hinted-at dangers— somewhere fairly-close to the Rim of the IVorld!

For me, Indian Territory was a magic-land where cowboys, Indians, long-horned cattle, roundups, and ray father’s frequent deer-hunting trips in a certain wild region called “the Osage Hills”, combined to create a colorfully-patterned patchwork of characters and incidents that peopled my earliest remembered dreams—whether asleep or awake!

In a part of the country where livestock was still being raised under open-range conditions, I received my first saddle on my sixth birthday, and, as a matter of course, took to “follerin’ after cattle”—as the local saying had it—like a young duck to water; “helping-out”, on a strictly-volunteer basis, whenever any of the local cow-outfits rounded-up, branded, shipped, or—in the spring—“received” Texas cattle by the trainloads.

My first recollection of roping and riding-contests on the order of to day’s Rodeo, was of strictly home-talent affairs that were put on at picnics and Fourth-of-July celebrations. Usually haphazardly-staged and carelesslymanaged affairs, such invariably featured an outstanding group of hellraising young cowhands in their early-twenties; one of whom was none other than Will Rogers—“Cousin Will” to half the Cherokees in that part of the country, it seemed like!

Practically all of his circle were local boys, and usually part-Indian, as well, mostly of Cherokee descent, whose parents and grand-parents had emigrated from Alabama or Georgia at the time of the infamous “Trail of Tears.”

Expert at anything having to do with the handling of half-wild horses and range-cattle—at which perfection was taken for granted—if there was ●Copyright by Joe De Yong

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any outstanding quality that was common to all, such was a high-hearted disregard of physical-danger, coupled with a spontaneous, remarkablyoriginal, crackling-type of wit and humor, usually of an extremely deadpan sort. Among such there were, at that time, many as equally witty as Will Rogers, but few were marked by the same restless energy and amazing drive. Energetic, magnetic, talkative .. . even at that time he also possessed an unusually shrewd insight that was coupled with a lightning-like ability at capitalizing on circumstances of the moment—a trait, an ability, that was, of course, eventually to earn world-wide acclaim.

However, driven by the yen to see both sides of the skyline—as was common with most young fiddle-footed cowhands, Will was soon to set out for South America in company with Dick Paris—a roly-poly, chuckling little part-Cherokee bronc-rider of the same stripe; and by the time I saw Will again—at the World’s Fair, in St- Louis, in 1904—he had not only been around the world, but was well on his way in the entertainment-field as a so-called “Trick and Fancy Roper”.

In any case, while performing at Col. Cumming’s Wild West Show, on the Pike, at the Fair, he came out to my grandmother’s home in Webster with Olive Stokes—who was later to marry Tom Mix; Olive being a daughter of a prominent family of Cherokee descent with whom we were friendly “down home”.

At that time, so-called trick-roping was fairly-new, and like most kids my age who happened to be interested in the use of a rope, I could spin a simple, “flat-loop”. As a result, when I learned that Will was coming to see us, I was out in the front yard armed with a fifteen-foot length of clothes line, waiting for him. And when he off-handedly reached for my rope and commenced to spin the “Butterfly”, he immediately became something close to God-like in my youthful eyes. Genuinely shy where strange women were concerned, he was reluctant about coming into my grandmother’s house, As a result, he chose to stay out in the yard with men and my rope, there by laying the foundation for a peculiarly unforgettable memory.

This was a chance meeting that was to lead to others of the same sort some twenty years later; first in Beverly Hills, followed by various week ends at the Santa Monica Canyon Ranch, where roping was invaribly the order of each day—often, and literally, from breakfast to midnight! Days when—fortunately, for me—the “hum” of a “ketch” rope still made a brand of music for which I was capable of “carrying the tune”!

While never much of a rider—and by that 1 mean, a rider of buckinghorses—a rope to me was almost on a par with a musical instrument, and yet I never went very far with fancy roping, itself, simply because all such was looked-down on by practical cowmen as being “kid-stuff” . . . since it had no use, whatever, where ranch-work was concerned.

By 1908—when I was fourteen—I commenced “riding for wages”; same amounting to fifteen-dollars a month, and board! A type of activity, that— while it amounted to proof of ability in a field in which I took the greatest possible pride—actually differed very little from what I had already been doing, each summer, when not in school, for fun—though of a more-or-less serious type^—for the past several years; except that I was suddenly faced with definite responsibilities, more restrictions on coming-and-going, and the fact that the horses assigned for my use were no longer picked entirely for their gentleness! I had little time in those days to think about art. How-

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ever, there can be no doubt but whal I was rapidly acquiring a first-hand knowledge of action, and from the ground up!”

In any case, the next three summers were “drouthy”, so that the daily life of a line-rider was for the most part a hot, dry, and often monotonous affair. However, I had no idea of following any other sort of work, horses and cattle filling my every-day thoughts, and whatever dreams I may have had for the future.

However, the summer I was seventeen—Tom Mix—who had, while acting as Chief of Cowboys on the 101 Ranch Wild West Show, married Olive Stokes, of a local family as already mentioned—brought a moving-picture troop down to our part of the country, from Chi cago, in order to make “Life on the DiamondS Ranch”. And since it was shot on the same outfit where I was working, I happened to be put in charge of the cattle being used. (A picture having the thinnest possible storythread, it’s action for the most part, was sim)ly a series of running shots of steer-roping, jronc riding, and other activities of ordinary ranch-life.)

Tom had first worked in moving-pic tures on a rather crude affair that was made on a little ranch at Felmington, Missouri, near Springfield, in the spring of 1910, when he and a hunch of 101 Ranch cowboys were on their way back to Oklahoma from a rodeo in Chicago.

Then the following winter and spring, he had starred in a series of pictures for the Wm. N. Seelig Company of Chicago, in Florida.

After which in 1912, to be exact—Seelig sent Tom and a location troupe to Canyon City, Colorado. And early in 1913, they had moved on to Prescott, Arizona, where the weather was regarded as being more favorable for winter-work.

Having been bitten by the “show-business bug” when making “Life on the Diamond-S Ranch”, I—like any rattleheaded, spur-jingling kid—was eager to try my luck at the same game. As a result, I joined Mix in Arizona in mid-January of 1913, where—as an old cowpuncher-friend once described it: I rode fast-and-furious, up and down hill in groups!” while chasing outlaws and rescuing the sheriff’s daughter, day after day, after day!

It seems fair to add that while the technique of modern movie-making is so commonly regarded as including certain synthetic methods and qualities as to pass without comment, in those early days—before the use of stuntmen and doubles had become an established part of the so-called “Star Sys tem”—Mix staged his own fights, made his own rides, falls, and any other type of “dreamed-up” action involving personal risk ... as a matter of course, A hard man to top—or to stop—he, at that time, surrounded himself with those of outstanding ability in their special fields as well. (My own position

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having merited no special reflected-glory, being accounted for, simply, by my having been regarded as "the kid of the outfit”!)

Note: Even at this late day, among those of Hollywood’s professional wranglers whose years and known-experience qualifies them to pass judg ment, the name Tom Mix stands for Cowboy Horsemanship par-excellence!

However, there have always been doubters. For instance, after my return to Oklahoma from Arizona, during a chance-conversation with a certain local, overgrown country-boy character, the matter of Tom’s salary came up. To which I answered, truthfully, “$10.00 a day!” At which my ques tioner—after a period of deliberate study—weightily-remarked: “For what a-doin’?”

And when I answered, “For riding in moving-pictures,” he flatly stated: “He ain't wu'th it!”

However, within one month I was layed low by an attack of cerebromenengitis . ● . which left me totally deaf, temporarily crosseyed, and with out any sense of balance, whatever! Outside of which I was all set for a new start in life!

As a result, after returning to Oklahoma, due to my having some slight, though undeveloped-ability at art, I commenced to draw and paint in order to kill time. The subjects for such being taken from the sort of activities which I was no longer able to take part in—never, under any circumstances classifiable as “still-life.” As a matter of fact, Western Art, of an illustrative sort, claimed my attention entirely and while I had of course become fa miliar with Frederick Remington’s work in Collier’s Weekly and Harper’s Magazine, back around the turn of the Century, it was at the St. Louis World’s’ Fair, in 1904, that I had first seen the work of Charlie Russell— Montana’s Cowboy Artist. In any case, based on my own first-hand observa tion of cowmen and Indians, Russell’s work—of the two—not only rang truer, but in my wholly-unschooled opinion, his drawing and modeling of action was far superior to that of Remington. In addition, even as a tenyear-old, I knew beyond any possible doubt that no cowpuncher would—or could—swing a loop and throw it while a quirt hung from the wrist of his throwing-arm; nor would any Indian Brave ever be guilty of riding a squawsaddle. Glaring faults which—considering that my own background was of a wholly-practical sort—understandably affected my enthusiasm for his work!

One of those peculiar examples of Fate’s seemingly having taken a hand in subtly preparing for a change in the life of an individual, made itself felt Moving caHle on San Julian Ranch.

at this time, since—in the summer of 1909—a magazine article on Russell had appeared in “World’s Work” Magazine, in which his modeling was stressed; particularly, the manner whereby he set up small wax or clay figures in order to setttle the problems of light and shadow. A description that was to turn my attention to figures and objects from the standpoint of the third-dimension; a point which I was to realize, in time, amounted to an outstanding characteristic of Russell’s work in any medium; a technical “quality” that was to fasten an unshakable hold on my own point-of-view from that time on (one that I was to sometimes find missing in the work of certain other artists who openly prided themselves in being better trained!)

As a result, while snowed-in at a ranch the following New Year’s Day, I carved a bucking-horse out of a large potato; a model which—-crude as it undoubtedly was—increased my interest in form, itself, so that I very soon afterwards turned out several other things of the same sort that were carved from cakes of soap. Strictly a “bad-weather”, or “rainy-day” type of ac tivity, such as lie dormant, until—with deafness, and its greatly-increased amount of free time—I at long-last decided to write to Russell for certain technical advice on methods and materials connected with modeling; an in quiry to which it was my great good-fortune to receive one of his nowfamous, illustrated-letters in reply.

From then on, I was consumed with a stubborn determination to go to Montana. More than that: An unreasoning conviction that therein lay my next move as mapped out by Fate—who, from that time on, appeared to lend me a guiding-hand whenever a decision of importance seemed called for; a move that was not only to result in ray getting to know Russell and his country, but one that led to my spending the last ten years of his life working in his studio—and for irregular intervals, a member of his house

hold.

Magic, unbelievably-colorful years .. . a waking dream come true, for which my own free-and-easy early way of life had so prepared me that I was able to benefit to the fullest; the main bond of our frienship resting upon a mutually-shared, lifelong interest in Indians; further strengthened —on my part—by a rather sketchy knowledge of their Sign Language, at which Russell was an expert. A mysterious, imaginative, and endlesslyfascinating, primitive means of communication that was also to prove in valuable to me when rambling over the various—at that time, still unfenced —Indian reservations. In fact, since many oldtimers among the fullbloods. breeds, and squawmen who had known the last of the “Buffalo Days”, could not, of course, either read or write, I was able to gain by this means, nu merous highly-interesting, and unquestionably-authentic stories and per sonal-experiences that surely would have been lost to me, otherwise.

Colorful as the still scantily-settled country was, its unbelievably im mense, wind-swept grassland was the target for a harsh, sometimes-merciless climate that—in one way or another—levied a considerable, though not always easily-recognized toll of its inhabitants.

However—no longer under the pressure of learning, and living a whollypractical way of life in any and every sort of weather, and more and more consciously responsive to the merely picturesque—the simple, openhandedlyhospitable way of life characteristic of the Indians, the mixed-bloods, and other small-stockmen, was much the same as that which I had first known in Indian Territory a generation earlier. So that, in large part, my own life 5

up there amounted to a second homecoming. A time, a place, and—in both instances—a people still remembered with the greatest affection!

To further prove that Fate has the ability to sometimes link up the past with the future: The first time I had lunch in the Russell home, Charlie asked me if I knew Ed Borein’s work? Then, in 1919, when Ed closed his New York City studio, he paid Russell a visit when on his way back to Cali fornia—just before locating, permanently, in Santa Barbara; a stopover in Montana that resulted in our making a side-trip together to the Blackfeet Indian Reservation. After which, he, the Russells and I, were again together for the week of the Calgary Stampede.

Then in 1924, I accompanied the Russells to California, at which time the always easy-going friendship with Borein became ever better-established.

An individual of outstanding-ability, and/or character, usually possesses a personality that attracts those of unusual makeup, and Borein’s studio— like that of Russell”s -was the gathering-place for those free-and-easy local characters for whom the genuine cowhand’s type of earthy-humor held -a fascination all its own!

As a result, I was to become acquainted with a considerable range of the locally-talented: from Dan Sayre Groesbeck, Clarence Mattel and Carl Oscar Borg, to Walt Coburn and Alexander Harmer: the latter momentarily occupy ing what may be regarded as a peculiarly-fortunate, and still-valuable, po sition as far as my special-interests were concerned. As follows: Ed—who was unquestionably an authority on the costumes and cus toms of Spanish-California—well-knowing my own persistent interest in any thing having to do with the same field, one day suggested that I accompany Harmer to his studio in order to see whatever work of his he might have on

hand.

Alexander Harmer at that time—1924—^was a dignified, little, whitehaired gentlemen who was well-along in years—had, in early manhood, been attached to Gen. Crook’s command, as a civilian map-maker, during that renowned officer’s campaign against Geronimo ● . . having been present at the council which resulted in that wiley old reprobate’s agreement to sur render. An experience borne-out by numerous, on-the-spot sketches still in his possession at that time. An artist of much better than average-ability, young Harmer had later married into one of Santa Barbara’s artistocratic, early-day Spanish families; a connection that was to lead to his becoming absorbed in accurately depicting the romantic life and times of old California prior to the arrival of the Forty Niners. A subject on which—fortunately for me—he was willing to speak freely. So that his patient, detailed-answers to my innumerable, termite-like questions as I looked through his considerable accumulation of detail-sketches, helped establish a foundation that still con tinues to serve my occasional needs. A kindness for which I feel the deepest gratitude.

Chance, again, was to make its presence felt when, the summer follow ing a letter from Borein—always a reluctant correspondent—advised that a class in Bronze Casting was to be held at the School of the Arts that fall, and, with my interest in modeling in mind, suggested that I get in on it.

As a result, I “jumped” from Sheridan, Wyoming, to Santa Barbara at a time when the so-called Lincoln Highway across southern Wyoming and Utah was—figuratively, at least—being laid-out by “candle-light”! However, within little more than a month after my arrival, Russell passed away due to 6

a heart-attack, which changed my plans and outlook to such an extent that, since I had fallen in love with the town and surrounding country at first sight, anyway, it became an easy matter to decide to make it our permanent home, a move that was never to be regretted.

Years of ups-and-down followed, of course—as is usually the case with almost any young and struggling artist—until in 1936, through friendships made on the Rancheros Visitadores trek, I got wind of the fact that C. B. DeMille—who at that time was preparing for The Plainsman—was in need of a costume-designer and technical-adviser on Indians; a rumor that was eventually to lead to my becoming a member of his production-staff. In fact, I worked on some half-dozen pictures for him during the following years.

Then when World War II got under way, and gas and bus-travel be came an increasing problem, we moved to Hollywood, permanently.

Working for DeMille very naturally led to other contacts on the same general level—including Bob Hope’s “Pale Face”, and “Shane”, for George Stevens, for which I received Screen Credit.

In the meantime, further friendships made through the Rancheros, led to my making trail rides of like-nature in various other parts of the West, until I had established something of a circuit that was to pretty-well keep me occupied “between-pictures”. My position at the moment being best summed up by one of those numerous, impromptu, tag-lines attached to that old field-hand’s favorite: “Alabama Bound” . . . which goes: “Get the hell on down the road!”

Society of Los Alamos

By John T. Rickard The Society of Los Alamos represents the heart of California. Its small but select group of forty-nine members gather each year beneath the sprawl ing oaks amid the verdant countryside of northern Santa Barbara County in May to recall the pleasantness of life in California “En Un Tiempo”.

This Society can trace its beginning to the Arlington Jockey Club, which was organized during the winter of 1890 by a group of young Santa Barbarans and prominent Easterners, who were guests for the season at the Arlington Hotel. This group established their Club in a residence on Vic toria Street. Soon thereafter they gave impetus to the formation of the Santa Barbara Club in 1892.

Travel in those days to the outlying districts was in surreys and saddles, and that between towns was done by stage, narrow gauge railroad and steamship. The Jockey Club became an association of sportsmen. They loved horses and prided themselves on their abilities as horsemen. These men were Americans who were prominent in the community or men of means who had come as visitors to Santa Barbara to take up winter residence.

Most of them had closer ties with Los Angeles. Thus they represented a blending of the youthful boisterous goodfellowship of the Forty-Niner with the quiet conservatism of men from New York, Chicago and St. Louis.

At the time of the visit of President William McKinley to Santa Barbara following the advent of the standard gauge railroad in 1901, the Jockey Club 7

occupied quarters in a building on the corner of Santa Barbara and Sola Streets, which after the passing of years has now become the modern club house for the University Club. Since many of these men were also members of the Santa Barbara Club, they represented a group within a group.

As the automobile replaced the horsedrawn vehicle, the Jockey Club gradually dissolved. Among the mementos of its former glory, which were later transferred to the Santa Barbara Club, is a photograph of some of its members dressed in western gear. In this group are such men as I. G. Wa terman, Starbuck Macy, Eddie Schmiedell and Francis Underhill. The latter three were charter members of the Society of Los Alamos.

These men always remained lovers of the horse, the horsedrawn vehicle and the out-of-doors. It was natural therefore that when one of their number, Samuel P. Calef, then owner of Rancho El Puente (Wigmore Ranch) near Los Alamos, later desired a gathering for the expressed purpose of recounting the good times enjoyed during the palmy days of Los Alamos, he would look to the former membership of the old Arlington Jockey Club for a nucleus. Being most anxious that his friends of the former Jockey Club meet the participants in those good times of Los Alamos, Mr. Calef hosted a dinner at Mattel’s Tavern at Los Olivos on the evening of Saturday, April 2, 1910.

The Tavern was located at the southerly terminus of the narrow gauge rail road which extended from San Luis Obispo through Port Harford to Los Olivos. At this juncture passengers were transferred to stage coach for the trip over the San Marcos Pass to Santa Barbara, and thence to rejoin the standard gauge railroad of the Southern Pacific.

Twenty-six men attended the dinner. From the membership of the old Arlington Jockey Club, all being residents of Santa Barbara, there were: Alden M. Boyd, Samuel P. Calef, Francis T. Underhill, William W. Burton, John E. Beale, H. Clifford More, George T. Coles, Arthur T. Ogilvy, Louis Jones, Clinton B. Hale, John S. Bell, Edward G. Schmiedell, Joel Remington Fithian, William Norman Campbell and R. Cameron Rogers.

To these were added John MacGillivray of Los Olivos, John H. Conway of San Francisco, Alexander Leslie, Dario Orena and Emanuel R. Den of Los Alamos, Eduardo de la Cuesta and Gerardo de la Cuesta of Santa Ynez, John J. Waugh and Felix Mattel of Los Olivos, Samuel T. Coiner of Santa Maria and Carl Stoddard of Santa Barbara.

This constituted the first meeting of the Society of Los Alamos. Although there were twenty-six members present at the dinner, the original charter membership of the Society consisted of forty-nine members.

The other twenty-three charter members, eight of whom are known to have been former members of the Arlington Jockey Club, were: Arthur Alexander, Colonel C. E. Bigelow, William Starbuck Macy, Alfred P. Redington, William T. Summers, Dr. Harold Sidebotham and Alfredo Gutierrez, all of Santa Barbara, Herman B. Duryea of Saranac, New York, William Alston Hayne, Benjamin S. Hayne and Harry R. Simpkins of San Francisco, Sloan DeNise of Santa Maria, Joseph J. Delaney of Eugene, Oregon, John G. de la Cuesta and J. Will Graham of Lompoc, Leonardo de la Cuesta, Ernesto Wickenden and Don Federico Wickenden of Los Alamos, Thomas Fklgar of Naples, Charles F. Fay of Pasadena, Louis L. Fox of Los Olivos, Captain Lawrence Harris of Berkeley and Frank K. Stoddard of Dayton,

Ohio.

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Society of Los Alamos^ Annual Meeting.

As indicated by early photographs some of the members arrived by old stage coach owned by Joel Remington Fifthian. Others arrived on horseback.

John S. Bell, grandfather of William F. Luton, present member of the Society, was elected first President. The other officers were Vice-President Dario Orena, Treasurer Louis Jones and Secretary George T. Coles.

Following the dinner meeting at Mattei’s Tavern the members were entertained at a bull’s head breakfast the next morning by Alden M. Boyd at his ranch “El Alamo Pintado” near Los Olivos.

Traditionally the members have gathered each year thereafter for their annual meeting on the second Saturday evening in May at Mattei’s Tavern.

Here a President has been elected who at noon on the following day has entertained the members and their guests at a barbecue on one of the great ranches of Santa Barbara County.

In this sense the Society can be termed as the true forerunner of the modern Los Rancheros Visitadores. Now in its 53rd year the Society has visited twenty-one of the most beautiful ranches in the County. Numbered among their euphonious names have been: El Alamo Pintado, Rancho Que Vale, Rancho La Vega, Rancho San Julian, Rancho San Juan, Glen Olive Rancho, Rancho Buena Vista, Rancho La Loraita, Entre Lomas, Rancho Los Potreros, Rancho Tinaquaic, Rancho San Marcos, Ranclio San Fernando Rey, Rancho Las Cruces, Rancho La Vina, La Zaca, La Patera, Rancho El Encinal, Whitegate Ranch of Samuel R. Dabney and El Ranchito of Robert A. Wickenden.

Translated into deeper meaning these ranches so visited are all portions of fourteen of the great land grants in this County, the history of which has annually been recited and enjoyed by members of the Society. The land 9

grants totaling an original 331,861 acres made by the Mexican Governors J. B. Alvarado, M. Micheltorena and Pio Pico in the eighteen-year period extending from 1828 to 1846 comprised La Zaca, Canada de los Pinos, San Julian, Los Alamos, Las Cruces, Tinaquaic, Nojoqui, Los Dos Pueblos, La Laguna, Tequepis, Santa Rosa, Corral de Quati, San Carlos de Jonata and San Marcos. Portions of four of these grants notably San Julian, Los Alamos, Tinaquaic and Los Dos Pueblos, have to this day remained in the hands of members of the Society who are heirs and direct descendants of the orig inal grantees, Don Jose Antonio De la Guerra y Noriega, Don Jose Antonio De la Guerra, eldest son of Captain De la Guerra, William D. Foxen and Nicolas A. Den, respectively. These land holdings each represent a span of between 118 to 126 years of continuous ownership in the same family by direct line of descent—a longer period than Statehood for California.

The ownership and appreciation of land is not only traditional in the Society but a binding force in the community of goodwill between its members.

The Society is devoted to the pleasures of recalling and reliving the earlier life on the ranchos of Santa Barbara County. Thus it was in 1912 that Katharine M. Bell, author of “Swinging the Censor” and wife of the first President of the Society, and Miss Maria Antonia Lataillade designed and presented the Society with its coat of arms. On a shield of red, white and blue appears the name of the Society above the familiar cactus plant and the numeral 49 signifying the membership. This is flanked on either side by two bushy tailed Los Alamos coyotes wistfully striving to reach the crowing cock of earlier pleasures, which surmounts the design emblazoned over the banner bearing the inscription and motto “En Un Tiempo”.

In presenting the design Mrs. Bell wrote: Allow me to knight it with my hearty good wishes for each and every one of the ‘Has Been’ bunch— that each passing year may leave the bond of union and good fellowship strengthened—that the rallying cry of ‘En Un Tiempo’! may keep them ever mindful, of the glad past, true to the present, and hopefully faithful to the future.”

Since forty-nine members formed the original Society enrollment, the organization has sometimes been referred to as the “Forty-Niners”. So long as the Society exists it remains its purpose to hold the membership to the same number.

Membership qualifications were first adopted in 1915 and have persisted to this day with but minor amendment. They require that all men must be at least twenty-five years of age and “simpatico” to the spirit of the Society.

In addition thereto they must be either: (a) sons of members, or (b) men who have been identified with Santa Barbara County for at least twenty-five years, or (c) men who for a period of at least ten years have owned or had an interest in ranch property of at least 160 acres located in Santa Barbara County, either north of the ridge of the Santa Ynez Mountains or west of the line of the Refugio Canyon on the south of the ridge, or (d) any man residing in said district relating to ranch locations for at least five years, who has married a daughter or a sister of a member of the Society.

The strength of the Society arises from a common bond enjoyed through a strict adherence to these qualifications in the selection of its members. Twothirds of the present day membership is comprised of sons or sons-in-Iaw of former members. The balance is made up of ranchers who by virtue of their 10

long residency have demonstrated their love and devotion for the land which is embued with the history and tradition of this County.

Yet these qualities alone do not suffice to grant perpetuity. One must also possess the all important ingredient of being “simpatico” with the spirit of the Society. This is an extremely expressive Spanish term when applied to those who do understand the finest possible blending of California’s splen did Spanish civilization and our Anglo-Saxon heritage of a love of liberty.

It is an expression in common use. Californians say a person is “simpatico” if he is in sympathy and close accord with those who have tried to maintain the ideals and heritage of both civilizations.

When asked to exemplify the word “simpatico” one need simply point to the late Thomas Wilson Dibblee. Here was a man of gentleness and stature through whose veins circulated the delicately blended blood of each of these civilizations and who was devoted to the heritage of his land. Al ways the genial host, his influence as Secretary of the Society for many years contributed to the perpetuation of its purposes and to the spirit of comradeship which has kept it alive.

The California Spirit is hard to define. Yet it reaches out and takes hold of the heart and emotions of people of various backgrounds. It is the wonderful comradeship created by this spirit which has perpetuated one of the most remarkable societies in the history of this County. For fifty-three years its members have met but once a year in the springtime to examine the glorious heartbeat of California “en un tiempo”, and to enjoy the con viviality and the ever refreshing experience of an early Californian barbecue given .by their President amidst the glories and beauty of the open countryside to the company of the lilting song and music of Spain in California.

A half century has passed since the first meeting at Mattei’s Tavern but the bond of union appears to grow stronger as F. Bourne Hayne, Poet Lau reate of the Society and son of a charter member has written:

‘But never fear that passing time,

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Shall weaken soon a single link, Of that stout chain which binds us fast,

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Or change the thoughts we think. tr

‘Simpatico’ in soul and heart.

That feeling which we fail to say.

Except that ‘Feeling towards Los Alamos’ When the grass is green in May.”

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Today the Society of Los Alamos has itself become a tradition. To morrow the members themselves will say of these times—“En un tiempo”.

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Charles Enoch Huse

By Dr. William H. Ellison Charles E. Huse, or “Judge” Huse as he was commonly known, was a notable legal figure in the life of Santa Barbara for more than thirty years after his arrival January 11, 1852, in the mission city by the western sea.

Accompanied by his brother William, he had made the trip from Boston to California by way of Panama, arriving in San Francisco August 3, 1849, on the British owned barque, Circassian.^ William left for the East by way of Panama and New Orleans in the middle of 1850, and did not return, but Charles made the Golden State his home until his death July 6, 1898.

Like many descendants of old families in New England, Charles revered his ancestry. In an entry in a diary which he kept for some years, he proudly drew an emblem of the Huse family that he came upon in a book, and described it as; “A dexter hand holding a cross patisse, or pitched.” He thought its origin was centuries earlier. He knew that in the lineage of his immediate family, a Huse (it was Abel Huse) came with his wife, Eleanor, to Newbury, Massachusetts, not later than 1635.^ Several of the Huse family held high rank in the War for Independence. Charles’s father, Enoch, was born in 1769, and died in 1857, while Charles was on a visit from California to the scenes of his early life.

Charles E. Huse was born in Newburyport, Massachusetts, March 1, 1825. In early boyhood he was markedly precocious, delving into Latin and Greek in his first years of learning, reading Homer and translating Virgil by the time he was eight, and showing marked ability in mathematics while still a child. When he entered Harvard he was well prepared for beginning collegiate work. Here his powers of concentration, ability to read rapidly, love of learning, remarkable memory, and attention to lectures greatly en riched him mentally. His linguistic inclinations are shown by his enrollment in Greek and Latin courses in his Freshman year; in Greek, Latin, and French in his Sophomore year; in the same three courses in his Junior year; and in Latin, Spanish, and German in his Senior year.^ Somewhere he ac quired familiarity with Italian and some smattering of other languages. As we shall see, he later became skilled as a translator, writer, and interpreter in Spanish.

At college and later Charles Huse lived a more or less secluded existence.

Though he was by habit unsocial, he w'as polite and gallant, devoted to the intellectual life, little interested in society as such, or in theatricals and pageants. He aimed to learn about the life of the world through books. He was regarded as one of the brightest students Harvard ever had, and until his mental break some forty years later, this reputation for brilliance lived on.

1. See Quar. of Soc. of Calif., Pioneers, I, 4, p. 39.

2. See “The Descendants of Abel Huse of Newbury (1602-1690),” compiled by Vice-Admiral Harry P. Huse (1935), p. 11.

3. The information about Huse’s language study at Harvard was given to the writer in a letter from the Custodian of the Harvard University Archives under date of November 30, 1848.

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Shortly after his graduation from Harvard with the class of 1848, while the famous lawyer and orator, Edward Everett, was its President, Huse began to .read law in the office of United States District Judge, The Hon. Peleg Sprague. He had not finished the usual course of study when he set out for California. In his diary begun in San Francisco, June 14, 1850, he mentions acquiring books but gives no hint about further legal preparation, though it can certainly be presumed that he studied law books carefully. He does mention incidentally a little later that he had been admitted to practice before the courts.

And Charles did appear in cases before the courts, though his early activities were mostly connected with real estate and other business activities.

While what he wrote in his diary in this early period was as a rule so sen tentious as to give one slight information about himself or his city, it did offer a good deal of insight into the man and the place. The diary entries from October 9 through October 14, 1850, in connection with the case of Gunter et als., vs. Geary et als., revealed the crudity of court proceedings and conditions which made it possible by easy methods to hear the jury delibera tions. He describes good-naturedly his own encroachment here which led to a slight embroilment with the court and his being judged in contempt. The penalty was a fine of $100 and imprisonment for six hours. As the sheriff had no place to confine him, he sat him down in his office where Huse spent the time pleasantly in reading and writing.

Young lawyer Huse’s observations as to conditions and prospects in San Francisco were revealing. Times were described by him as hard, with a great scarcity of money. The market was pictured as glutted with all kinds of goods, with more arriving every day, and prices in most commodities lower than in the States. This condition was recognized as making losses for some body, but the observation was made that he who had money could make money laying in a stock for a few months to come. Many persons appeared forlorn, with -gloomy forebodings for the dreary days of the wet season when nearly every branch of outdoor business would have to be greatly curtailed.

Huse feared that the closing of the mines and the attendant destitution, coupled with the adverse conditions, would result in much crime, a result which he accurately foretold.

At some points where Huse’s comments in his diary could have been illuminating, he disappoints by his silence. On March 8, 1851, he made his first diary entry since February 1. Here it is, all of it: Returned from San Jose after an absence of five weeks. During this time have seen something of the way in which laws are made. To witness the influences brought to bear upon the minds of Legislators is enough to weaken the sentiment of respect which everyone ordinarily entertains towards the acts of a Legislature.

Huse gives no hint as to why he went to San Jose, what he did while there, and nothing specific about the actions of the legislature, which passed important legislation during the time he was observing it.

On March 17, Huse recorded that he was summoned by the sheriff to appear as a juryman in the trial of a man called Windred, who was charged with being an accomplice in a murder, and on the next day he noted that the trial continued. That was all. On May 3 and 4, he told of a great fire that 13

had occurred with a loss of ten or fifteen million dollars, and on June 22, he told of another destructive fire and his personal loss of clothes but the saving of his books and papers. The puzzling thing is that no mention was made of the Committee of Vigilance and its activities during its revolutionary life from June 9 to September 9, although it had created intense excitement. This Committee was an outgrowth of the fires Huse mentions, which were believed to be of incendiary origin, and of other crimes, such as the attack on Jansen the merchant, with Huse serving as juror in the trial of Windred who was falsely accused of the crime.

Notwithstanding the irregularity with which the diary of Huse was kept while he was in San Francisco, its casual allusions, its omissions, and its silence on great events, the records put down there give glimpses—restricted glimpses to be sure—into the life, events, and personalities in San Francisco in 1850 and 1851. Insight is given, also, into the youthful Huse in a new environment, where he was a prototype of those young men of education and refinement who kept themselves somewhat aloof from the hurly-burly life into which they were thrown.

Why Charles Huse left San Francisco to take up his residence in Santa Barbara is not known. All we know about the change is that he “Left San Francisco for Santa Barbara on the 8th day of January, 1852 . . . in the steamer ‘Sea Bird’ . . . and arrived in Santa Barbara, Jany. 11th at 7 o’clock P.M.”^ Unfortunately, Huse made no diary records of his activities in Santa Barbara from the date of his arrival until October 17, when he began a record of his legal work and as an interpreter. The entries were all in English until October 25, 1853, when the diarist turned to writing in Spanish,® a practice he continued as he matured in character, until October 31, 1855, when the writing in volume one was concluded and Huse signed his name. He wrote no more about his daily doings until March 7, 1856, when he made the first entry in a second volume. A rather continuous record written in Spanish® was kept until September 19, 1857, providing a full and compactly written volume about Huse himself, personalities of Santa Barbara and developments in the area.

The diary entries, as would be expected of a young lawyer, are replete with comments on cases in which Huse was acting either as defending at torney or as district attorney. However, there is also much information on the city, its people, officials, and prospects, together with much that is revela tory concerning the young man’s problems in adjusting to an environment in many ways foreign to his background and personal attitudes.

Although Huse was often critical and even contemptuous of the Cali fornians in general, he respected men like Judge Joaquin Carrillo, J. M. Covarrubias, and a few others. He had a favorable opinion of the handsome and accomplished Pablo de la Guerra, though hostile to him as a successful political leader.

4. See “Diary of Charles E. Huse' (Translated by Francis Price and edited by William H. Ellison, 1953), pp. 41-42.

5. “Diary of Charles E. Huse”, op. cit., p. 51.

6. The translation of these volumes into English was made by Attorney Francis Price of Santa Barbara.

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Influenced by his Anglo-Saxon background and a lack of understanding of that of the Californians, Huse declared that much of the society in Santa Barbara was of the scum of the earth. He admitted that there were a few gentlemen, “men of sincere hearts, pure, good and truthful,” but he usually insisted that these were like angels—few and far between. At times he wrote harshly of the unreliability of the native magistrates, of the disposition of the people to steal, to cheat, to lie, to intrigue, and to act with violence. Fre quently, he gave expression to the belief that in criminal cases there could be no conviction of an offender, no matter how clear the evidence might be, if the prisoner were a Californian and there were “sons-of-the-land” on the

jury.

His rearing in a deeply religious family and community had imbued Huse with their Protestant mores and prejudices. Trained in marked respect for Sunday as the Sabbath day, he would not engage in games of cards on Sunday nor permit the playing of them in his room on that day. He fre quently attended Catholic services, occasionally with Charles Fernald, and more often with Daniel Hill, who was a Catholic. His respect for the worship was high, but he was sharply censorious of the conduct of Catholics who went through the ritual services and then would drink and cheat and steal.

He was unable to reconcile with religion the practice of worship followed by dancing and sports on the Sabbath day.

As many Protestants did then and later, Huse assumed that the Catholic priests were against the education of the people, and desired to keep them in mental slavery. His seeming disapproval of the building of a new Catholic church, or of the erection of a proposed cathedral, was quite clearly the result of his New England religious background, sharpened without doubt by his feeling that he was being deprived of attendance at a Protestant church, the lack of which he frequently deplored.

While on some practices Huse had definite views, rather surprisingly he had none or did not express them on others. Horse racing was spoken of by him a number of times as a popular sport. The races were run on the hard sand of the beach for stakes usually of $1,000 and “a hundred cows and horses,” or “20 head of fat cattle and 10 horses broken.’” There is no indica tion as to whether or not he disapproved of these races on moral or religious grounds. He sometimes drew up the contract for a fee, and says hundreds of people came, often from great distances, but he never indicated if he wit nessed them.

In the second volume of Huse’s diary, as in the first, the writer gave most attention to his many law cases, some of them important ones. His comments on these cases, and his observations about persons involved in them, are illuminating as to what went on in the little mission community.

Added to this his passing remarks on individuals American and Californian, his interest in the beginning of the weekly newspaper, La Gazela, for which he wrote and often assisted in editing, and his assistance in the starting of a school that continued partly under his guardianship, reveal other facets of the young man getting on in his new world, and also serve to help fill in the picture of early Santa Barbara.

What this young man, Charles E. Huse, thought of or about the female sex is not revealed by him in his diary. He did not profess interest in women, nor did he give any indication of having associated with them in 15

A chance meeting.

‘96en6ue| u6|s u| uoi^esjaAuoa y

San Francisco or Santa Barbara. The full diary story on the subject is short and simple, and cold.

There is no reference of any sort of communication with a woman other than with his sister Hannah, or mother, until his recording of his visit to his home in the East in late 1856 and early 1857. In this he says: “On the first of November, in the afternoon, I saw her who for eight years and longer had had my confidence, and my appreciation of her fine qualities, virtues, intelligence and fine character, and having seen her several times, I left her in Boston.” He reports that a few weeks later, while he was in Washington, “I wrote the two most important letters of my life.” Presumably these letters were to “her” whose name he did not give.

After Charles returned to the North, at the time of his father’s death on January 15, 1857, he remained at home and in the vicinity until February 12, when he said goodbye to his mother and sister. He then recorded that on the same day, “I left for Boston accompanied by Miss Hannum and Miss Bragdon. We took quarters in the ‘Revere House,’ and in the afternoon the Reverend Doctor Adams came to the hotel and performed a wedding cere mony.” He did not give the name of the bride, but her maiden name was Susan B. Hannum. After two days in Boston, the bride and groom went to New York where they spent ten or eleven days before beginning the long journey to the Pacific Coast. No details of their visit were recorded.

On February 25, the Huses left New York for California by way of the Isthmus of Panama. They arrived at San Francisco on March 28, and left on April 5 for Santa Barbara, where they arrived April 7. How long Mrs. Huse remained in Santa Barbara is uncertain for in the next entry in Charles’ diary, which was on June 25, in listing letters he had just written, he said, “I wrote to my wife in San Francisco.” Except for one visit in the northern city, he did not see his wife again until she returned to Santa Barbara from San Francisco on September 19.

Huse seldom referred to his wife in the diary from June 25 until three weeks before her expected return. From that time on he ended each diary entry with the statement that S. (Susan) would arrive after the number of days remaining. On September 19, Charles wrote: “The steamship arrived at two in the afternoon. There was a passenger. Governor Weller arrived with his wife. She and two daughters who came ashore are very beautiful.

This city has never received three young ladies as gracious and lovely as they, are. Probably the “passenger” referred to was Susan, but if so, no word of compliment was written for her. With the bestowal upon the three Wellers of the feminine gender of the highest praise given by him at any time for fe males, Huse ended his diary writing.

On numbers of occasions in the statements he had written down, Huse had spoken pessimistically of Santa Barbara’s future. He felt that it was handicapped in being controlled economically, politically, and socially by indolent and backward Californians; and that it did not hold opportunity for progressive Anglo-Saxons like himself and a few others. His most dis contented and gloomy statement to this effect was made two days before Susan’s return and the ending of his diary. He wrote 7. “Diary of Charles E. Huse”, op. cit., p. 151.

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Fernald came to my office. We are in accord that Santa Barbara is no place for us; that there is no opportunity here for us; that here there is little chance for advancement in the profession of law; that an orderly and cultured society is lacking; that we cannot expect much change in the population, the manners or the customs; and that the state of California does not offer advantages equal to those of the middle west or even New York or Massachusetts. He desires, as 1 do, to leave this stale.

But neither Huse nor Fernald left. Both prospered and both became leaders in helping to build a better Santa Barbara.

In the first dozen years of Charles E. Huse’s residence in Santa Barbara, he served in various official or semi-official capacities. His first official service began in April, 1852, when he was appointed county clerk to fill the office vacated by J. W. Burroughs. In the short period in which he held this office, he performed the duties also of recorder and auditor. In the general election in the fall of 1852, he was elected to the state assembly. Through a decade or more, because of his knowledge of law forms, his clerical skill, and his linguistic ability, Huse was relied upon for many services. He often officiated as city attorney, or as a member of the common council. He was appointed district attorney by the court of sessions in December, 1854, elected to that office in 1855 and in 1857, and again appointed in 1861. By his assistance, Judge Joaquin Carrillo, whose knowledge of the English language was greatly limited, was enabled to sit successfully as district judge for a period of years, and to dispense substantial justice to the many litigants who came before him.

While Huse kept the favor of the Californians, generally, because of his many services and his fairness in dealing with them, whether in the ad ministration of the law or politically, he occasionally had some conflict with leaders of prominent families. A noteworthy incident of this character oc curred soon after the Civil War began and while Huse was serving as district attorney.

Because of a natural enmity of Californians for the Americans, many of them sympathized with the Confederacy and its leaders. Huse was an active member of the young Republican party. He had been previously a political opponent of Pablo de la Guerra and when de la Guerra became a Union party man, ostensibly to secure office as district judge, Huse opposed him in speeches in Los Angeles. This made bitter enemies of the de la Guerra family and of Californians whom they dominated.

A climax was reached in this hostility to Huse about the time of the election. At the “San Carlos” one evening, Steve Williams, one of the brothers involved in a murder affair at Las Cruces, proposed a toast to the health of Jeff Davis, which was drunk by all present except a few Union men who kept silence because greatly outnumbered. On the following day, complaint was made to Huse, then district attorney, an affidavit was given, and Williams was arrested. When he was brought before the court, the judge out of fear discharged him. At the time Williams was paying court to a member of the de la Guerra family, and his arrest was taken as an affront to the de la Guerras.

With determination to get rid of Huse, some person or persons sent a note to him threatening to take severe measures against him if he did not leave town within a certain time. When he paid no attention to the threat, a party of men went to his house and invited him to come out. No outward 19

action followed his refusal to meet them, but a guard of between ten and fifteen men kept a nightly vigil at Huse’s house for a couple or more weeks, and a few men were on guard during the day. At the end of this time, Captain Copeland arrived with a small company of soldiers who took up quarters near the courthouse where they remained for several months. Their presence served to deter any further threats or disturbance.® In spite of Huse’s frequently expressed disapproval of the native Cali fornians and his occasional friction with some of them, and his disparaging remarks concerning the city and his prospects in it, he and his family became intertwined with its life, and Anglo-Saxon influence increased. Until he be came mentally ill, he was in the forefront of those who visualized for the region’s future the development of roads, manufacturing enterprises, oil sources, railroads, Protestant churches, and education. In 1876 he wrote and published through the office of the Santa Barbara Daily Press his exten sive booklet, “Sketch of the History and Resources of Santa Barbara City and County, California,”® which included a historical statement, brief sketches of prominent Santa Barbarans, Americans and Californians of the past and present, together with comments on material resources, streets, land surveys, churches, newspapers, and education.

Because of space limitations, this article can give only summarized ref erences to Huse’s great promotional activities. In the field of communication, he was named one of the directors of the Santa Ynez Turnpike Company, or ganized in 1868, and treasurer of the newly organized Tulare Turnpike Com pany in the same year. The purpose of these companies was to open a road to Santa Ynez as a beginning for a trade route across the mountains to the valley beyond. In 1870, he served on the committee to make organized efforts to promote railroad building by securing legislative and private assist ance,,at the same time expressing willingness to assist it materially to the ex tent of one-half of his property. He was an active agent in railroad promotion in 1872, 1874, 1875, and 1876, eloquently presenting facts to prove its utility as well as its feasibility.

With the faith of a pioneer, Huse visualized important developments in southern California resources. He was convinced early of the immense wealth of the petroleum deposits of the region. He gave emphasis to the usability of oil for propelling steam vessels, and as a valuable indirect agent in aiding in the reduction of the refractory ores of the Nevada silver mines.

Since the wharf at Santa Barbara was not a good place of anchorage, he joined officially in a move to secure S250,000 from Congress to aid in the building of an inner harbor. He was among the first to proclaim to the world the superiority of the Santa Barbara climate, and to set forth the possibility of supplying the United States with tropical fruits from its own territory.

Immense properties passed through Huse’s hands, some of them in his trusteeship, and many in his own name. As early as 1865, statistics of the tax roll listed him with 13,200 acres in Jonata Rancho, and with 9,999 acres 8. For details of these incidents, see William A. Streeter’s “Recollections of His torical Events in California, 1843-1878”, William H. Ellison, editor, California Historical Society Quarterly, XVIII, pp. 271-272.

9. There is a copy of this booklet in Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley, and in the Santa Barbara Historical Society Library.

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in Conejo. A later listing showed him possessed of 48,800 acres of land.

In the Morning Press obituary article of July 8, 1898, it was stated that at one time his property interests embraced nearly the entire upper portion of the city, and that he had owned Rancho Los Prietos y Najalavegua on which were the upper waters of the Santa Ynez and the old quicksilver mines which he opened and operated. Even so, he did not become a man of great wealth.

The weight of properties and the confusion in holding, disposing of, or losing them may have had much to do with the undermining of his reason.

Notwithstanding some peculiarities which made him “different,” Charles E. Huse was possessed of intellectual and spiritual riches. He arrived in California with a well-trained mind. From his arrival until his darkened years, he read much. He acquired a valuable library and used it. Literature and music were his recreations. His was a brilliant mind and he had a re markable memory. \s to his memory, note two examples. First, at one time when he was ill, his daughter, Alice, took down Milton’s “Hymn on Nativity” to read to him. At the end of the first line, he interrupted and then recited it entire from memory, saying to her at its end that he had not thought of it for twenty-five years. The second example is in connection with a brief stop on September 23, 1869, of William H. Seward and his party in Santa Barbara, where Huse acted as personal host to Seward. When asked by Huse to make an address on Alaska, Seward hesitated because many of his audience would be Spanish and he was only slightly acquainted with the Spanish language. Huse told him to make the speech in English and that he would then repeat it in Span ish. This Huse did almost verbatim to the surprise of Seward who voiced amazement at Huse’s learning and memory.

Further outlet for Huse’s mind and spirit was furnished by the organi zation of the Congregational church and the founding of the College of Santa Barbara.

On November 25, 1866, the Reverend J. A. Johnson, afterwards the fa mous editor of the Santa Barbara Press, preached a sermon in the courthouse.

A resolution was adopted at the close of the service requesting him to remain permanently in the town and form a society. In the following month he settled in the city and began the first continuous Protestant worship. In 1867, a permanent society was organized under the Congregational form, and J. A. Johnson was named its minister. Along with David Nidever and E. F. Maxfield, Huse was made a member of its board of trustees. He con tinued in official relation to the church, sang in its choir, assisted financially, and helped in other ways until he was overtaken by mental illness.

Under the laws of California, in the year 1869, Santa Barbara College was incorporated. Huse, and other like-minded citizens of Santa Barbara and vicinity, felt that the rapidly increasing population and wealth would justify considerable expense in providing for their children better means and methods of education than were then available. A stock company was organized by a number of public-spirited citizens, who erected suitable build ings for the immediate wants. The early success of their first efforts and community encouragement induced the incorporators to re-organize with a capital stock of $100,000. Huse was one of the stockholders in the corpora tion and an active member of the board of directors, giving much service 21

to the finance and building committee. One of the early teachers in the college, Charles A. Storke, studied law in Huse’s office. The college continued until 1880 when it closed for lack of support.

“Judge” Huse, as he was called, a title which must be presumed to have become attached to him in connection with his assistance to Judge Carrillo as interpreter and his frequent services about the court, for he never occu pied a judicial bench, was a shrewd, brilliant, and careful lawyer, who exer,cised care as to the cases in which he accepted service as attorney. It was generally agreed that in both the spoken and literary word, Huse excelled most lawyers on the coast, and that his sentences were compact, clear and forcible. “They seemed to be ripe conclusions of the mind.” His small size physically was forgotten when he was on the platform, for his mellifluous voice carried to the farthest reaches of a large hall when he invoked his eloquence as a natural orator. With his ability in his profession, his power of speech, and his general popularity and pleasing qualities, Huse could have gone to high office, but he was never a political office seeker, being even disdainful of politics.

Before Huse’s property was lost and his mind broke, there were those who claimed that he had enriched himself at their expense through manipu lation and crooked dealing. These complaints and charges, which were passed on through the days of his illness, were repeated by old-timers for many years, but with such indefiniteness as to cast doubt on their authenticity.

Weight must be given to a counter view written in a biographical state ment in 1882 which declared that Huse could have become very wealthy, but that his notion of fair dealing did not conduce to the retention of mil lions which might have been his. In any case, his property and wealth melted away in the early eighties, and it was stated under oath at the time of his commitment to a mental hospital that neither he nor any member of his family was possessed of any means for his support. He was therefore accepted as a public charge. It is worth noting that the long obituary article in the Morning Press at the time of his death made the good that he did live after him, and interred the evil with his bones. It was fulsome in its praise.

In the first years of the eighties, Huse neglected his own business and suffered the loss of a great part of his fortune. This and litigation connected with large estates for which he was attorney produced a strain that he did not have the vitality to withstand. As a result his mind became clouded, and for two years while he continued in Santa Barbara he was only partially rational. He suffered with hallucinations, particularly one in which he saw himself as ruler of the world. On November 21, 1885, he was committed to the Napa State Asylum for the Insane.

At Napa and Highland, Charles E. Huse spent twelve and one-half dark years. At times his old powers would momentarily return. Letters were oc casionally well-written, and he would sometimes converse intelligently and pleasantly on many subjects. Physicians said that his answers to questions on political and scientific subjects were often surprising for their clarity and penetration. There were occasions when he spoke eloquently at exercises on the Fourth of July.

His life ended on July 6, 1898. Interment was made in the Santa Bar bara cemetery on July 9, 1898, beside his wife who had preceded him by ten years.

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Sheep-Herder

By Beatrice Cooper Baer I trotted my horse across tlie stream and pulled up under the oak tree before the little cabin with its lichened roof and crazy stone chimney. Near me a pot bubbled over a fire between two rocks.

“Hi, Federo!”

The door opened and the herder came out.

“Buenas tardes!”

“Buenas tardes!” I reached into my saddle-bags. “I have brought you some beans and bacon.”

“Good.” The herder dumped the sack down inside the cabin, came out again, and stood gazing meditatively at the hills across the canyon.

“How goes it?

“Ah.” He shrugged his shoulders. “On a year like this . . . ? Already the feed is short. Next week I will have to take the band back into the brush.

It is true that we rarely have enough rain in the Santa Ynez Valley, our part of coastal Southern California, but all herders are profoundly pessi mistic anyway, and it would take thirty inches of rain and a stand of wild oats and fileria three feet high to make one of them admit that we were faced by anything but imminent starvation for the sheep and ruin for their owners.

The light in the canyon, shadowed by the high bare Santa Rosa hills, _ising from the oak trees, grew dimmer. In the corral behind the cabin the sheep were a white blur of woolly backs, from which came the sound of stamping and the occasional clang of a bell.

“The patron goes into town tomorrow. Do you need anything else?^^ Federo considered, Bread. I will have no more then. And perhaps,” he added deprecatingly, “a little cheese?”

Federo always asked for this “poco de queso with diffidence, as if he felt it to be an unwarrantable luxury but hoped we might indulge him. In this modesty in his demands for food he differed from almost all the other herders we had had. Since the man cannot leave his sheep, he is dependent on the patron’s remembering to send someone up with provisions for him, and most of them live in constant hysterical fear of starvation. One herder, when I brought up his su pplies, used to flourish empty tins dramatically before my eyes, describing the horror of the past days as his food dwindled.

The fact that an ample stock was visible on a nearby shelf was never com mented on. Herders lead lonely lives and need a set of grievances to brood over through the long hours. These grievances are respected.

Federo Venagas was a good herder. He had worked for us for three years and we all liked him. I don’t know how old he was He had a peculiarly gnarled and knotted appearance, like a strong, stunted, wind-swept tree, and to see him break into a run was to see a crooked stick come to life and leap over the ground. His face, too, looked as if it had been carved from some hard dark wood—certainly of no material malleable enough to wrinkle.

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though it could twist and crack into a smile or anger. Federo was not given to facile emotion and his manner of receiving a present was of such dig nity as to make the thought of thanks an embarrassment.

On Christmas day my father would go up to see him, bearing a few gifts, which on one occasion included a pie of tempting but noble proportions.

He presented the bandanas and socks.

“Ah,” said Federo; he looked at them and laid them down. My father then handed the pie to him. Federo regarded it.

“To eat?”, he said.

“To eat”, answered my father.

“I w'ill try it”, said Federo somberly.

Once a year he went for two weeks to Oxnard, a little town about ninety miles away where, for some reason known only to themselves, all herders choose to spend their vacations. Of the year’s wages which he had drawn on leaving the ranch he sent a part to his wife in Andalusia, kept a few dollars for his food and lodging, and put the remainder in the bank. He had few needs, he seemed to have few desires. Like most herders he lived entirely for the future, for the day when he should have saved enough to return to his village in Andalusia. There he would spend his old age, lending money (probably at an exorbitant rate of interest) and dying a respected man.

The fast time he went to Oxnard he returned looking very gloomy.

“Times are bad!”, he announced. “There is a depression!”

My father expressed no surprise at this information.

“Times are bad! And why? I will tell you!”, Federo went on darkly.

“Because of the capitalists! They have all the money and they keep it in their pockets!”

He stared meaningly at my father who, since his pockets were not heavy with even figurative gold, felt this view of him as a greedy plutocrat some what unfair. Federo, however, was reserved and distant with him for sev eral weeks.

Federo had a daughter who had been born after he left Spain. She was grown-up by the time that he came to our ranch, and one of the letters from his wife, that we took up to him, addressed in violent purple ink with many curlicues, contained the news that she was to be married, which threw him into a furor of dignified excitement.

Sometimes when I was out riding I would see him on the ridge of some windy hill, a dark figure outlined against the sky, his head bent over some thing in his hands. The sheep were scattered out over the slopes below him. the black dots beside him his two dogs. The figure would raise its head, move along the hill, and with a long shrill whistle, that came faintly to me across the canyon, send the dogs racing down the slope to round in some of the straggling sheep. Then it would stand motionless again. Federo was writing a letter to his wife. I used to wonder what he said to her. The let ters could have contained little news, for his life was the same day after day, month after month. I suppose they often spoke of how much money he had saved and of the day when he would be at home with her again in his own village. Only a few more years and he would go back to Spain.

During the spring, summer and early fall the sheep were pastured on the hills, but at lambing time they are brought down to the corrals near the 24

. “\,

W MTTMLty

house, where they can more easily be fed, and all through that season we on waken at night to hear the needle-sharp crying of the lambs, floating up the winter darkness. It is a busy time for the herder, for the lambs are some times born twenty or thirty in a night, and we hire another man to help the regular borreguero. Since each herder regards every other one with the deepest suspicion, contempt and jealousy, and their feelings are as easily hurt as a child’s, it is difficult at times to keep the peace. Woe betide my father if he let Miguel feed his sheep on a patch of alfalfa which Federo regarded as rightfully his band’s!

“It is plain to be seen”, he would say stiffly, drawing himself up and looking gloomier than ever, “that you care more for Miguel than you do for me. No, no! I can see it well. And that one is no herder! He never saw a sheep until he was thirty. To be a good borreguero”, Federo would declare with restrained passion, one must begin very young ... as a boy . .. as a little child!”

I was married while Federo was with us and one day, several weeks before the wedding, I rode up the canyon to ask him to come to see me mar ried. It was late afternoon, about the time I knew he would be bringing the sheep into the corrals, and I met him coming down the hill after them, his figure half obscured by the dust they raised, dragging a very long dead branch behind him for firewood. It was very long and it was also crooked and kept catching in the bushes and hooking around the trunks of trees, bringing Federo up with a jerk, and necessitating much tugging and pulling to free it. I called to him and he looked up, greeted me gravely and then, 25

bracing his legs and grunting, went on with his battle with the branch. Fin ally he triumphed and came on down the hill, panting but dignified, the branch dragging and thumping behind him like a ridiculous tail.

I offered him a cigarette. “How goes it?”

“Well enough.” He leaned impassively on a fence-post, smoking. The low sun slanted through the oak trees, making the settling dust luminous.

A few sheep straggled past us, heads low, walking slowly on their sharp delicate feet.

I delivered my invitation in carefully prepared Spanish.

9” “Va casarse!”, said Federo with interest. “With whom do you marry.'

I told him and spelled out the name.

“Ah. Yes. I have seen him riding with you. When do you marry?”

“El treinta-y-uno de Julio.”

“Ah!” There was a silence.

“It will please me much if you will make me the favor of coming to the wedding”, I said again.

Federo gave a start. “I! No, no!”

“Yes. Federo. Please.”

“Yo, no! Yo no puedo. I cannot!” He gestured deprecatingly at his clothes. 1 insisted and said that nobody would be dressed up and he would look fine anyway.

“Well”, he said finally, “Then we shall see.” And bidding me good evening he set off up the canyon, dragging his branch behind him.

I was afraid he wouldn’t come but he did, shutting his sheep in the corral and walking up the long hot road to the ranch-house, promptly at twelve o’clock. I caught sight of him from an upstairs window as he came down the garden toward the crowd of guests. He had evidently settled the clothes problem to his satisfaction and indeed he looked very fine in a pair of stiff new blue-jeans and a shirt of incredible and dazzling whiteness. I have never seen any shirt that looked so new and white.

After the ceremony, as we turned about to a babble of good-wishes and congratulations, I saw Federo standing back a little, a glass already in his hand, his face, above the refulgent shirt, darkly flushed with punch, heat and excitement, but dignified as ever. As he caught my eye he raised his glass with a gesture at once ribald and decorous, and showed his yellow teeth. I noticed him several time during the afternoon, usually standing near the punch-bowl, and measuring the other guests with disparaging but tolerant eye. Every time he saw us he would swing up his glass again in that wonderful gesture, that was half a bow and half a nudge in the ribs.

And when we drove away at last, leaving the group by the door laughing and calling and throwing rice, there was Federo, standing alone in the curve of the drive, the sun gleaming on his shirt. We waved and he leaned forward and showed his teeth and swung up his glass again in good-bye.

I never saw him again, for shortly afterwards he left Rancho La Vina to go back to Spain. My father was sorry to lose him, but he knew what a great day this departure was for Federo, a day long-awaited, carefully cal culated. He took the herder into town to the train that morning, his roll of 26

blankets on the seat behind him, his last check in his pocket, and wished him good luck “y buen viaje”.

Federo didn’t write to us, so that we never shall know how it all turned out, but I used to think of him sometimes. It must have been exciting, after twenty years’ absence, to see the coast of his own country come up out of the sea; to go back to the place where he had been born, with the whole vil lage turned out to meet him, and a little fortune in his pocket; to see his wife again after all those years, and a daughter whom he had never laid eyes on. I hoped the homecoming was all that he had dreamed of.

He had planned ahead a long time, had denied himself much, and lived meagrely, so that some day he and all his household should live well, so that “Un dia comera mi gato sandia.” I hope his cat enjoyed the watermelon.

Director's Report DANGER TO THE DE LA GUERRA ADOBE In view of the recent controversy over the de la Guerra Adobe, let us review briefly the history of this nationally renowned landmark.

From 1830 to the 1850’s the de la Guerra Adobe was, in its original state, an unaltered landmark—white-washed and tile-roofed and the scene of all the social activities of the public. There were the fiestas, the historic visits of Dana of the Brig Pilgrim (“Two Years Before the Mast”), the wedding of Anita de la Guerra to Alfred Robinson, the whole parade of historic visits of governors and distinguished travelers from clipper ships, who were graciously entertained at the adobe. There Jose de la Guerra on occasions arbitrated the disputes between the northern and southern revo lutionary factions. Here, with the change from military government of the Royal Presidio to the civil government of the Pueblo, was the heart and core of Santa Barbara of the Mexican Period.

Over the years and before the enactment of El Pueblo Viejo Ordinance, March 9, 1960, alterations were made to the adobe, and they now form a false front or facade, hiding the original adobe. Someday this facade of alterations can be torn away, revealing for the first time in years the 1830 landmark. Then we hope that the de la Guerra Adobe may be restored and preserved as it appeared in the Mexican Period of Alta California. History can trace these alterations from the original tile roof of the 1830’s to shingles and then back to red tile roof in the Francis T. Underhill restoration of the 1900’s and adobe walls boarded up for protection from rain. Mr., Bernhard Hoffman converted the El Paseo side of the adobe into Spanish Colonial architecture. Therefore, the only original part that remains of the exterior in public view is the porch and its adobe walls.

This porch is where the present owner wishes to place several small shops for “temporary use” (eighteen months to two years). Temporary could be permanent.

This is a grave danger, for the de la Guerra Adobe is second only to the Old Mission as Santa Barbara’s most historic and nationally known landmark.

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The Architectural Board of Review at first approved plans for temporary shops, but when shown photographs of the wall and two-foot extension of the porch, realized that this was a permanent alteration and that the Board had not had full information about the project. This Board at once rescind ed its approval of the temporary shops and referred the matter to the Ad visory Landmark Committee. The decision was not made against the advice of the City Attorney. The Advisory Landmark Committee rejected the plan for the placing of shops on the porch of the adobe, because the design sketches submitted did not conform to the requirements of El Pueblo Viejo Ordinance.

The Architectural Board of Review then upheld the decision of the Advisory Landmark Committee.

It might be pointed out here that a shop was built in the passageway between the adobe and El Paseo without authorization of the Architectural Board of Review. A structural change was also made, placing a doorway on El Paseo side of the adobe, again without the approval of the Advisory Landmark Committee or the Architectural Board of ReviewOne can appreciate Mrs. Thaddeus Suski’s kindness and concern in attempting to place her tenants in shops. However, was there not an apparent lack of understanding and love of Santa Barbara’s heritage that would permit commercial shops being placed in the corridors of this landmark?

The Santa Barbara Historical Society was responsible for the idea of “El Pueblo Viejo” Ordinance; but many individuals and at least one organization were responsible for its becoming a reality. Included in this list are Paul Sweetser, Don Woods, Edna Sharpe Cannon, and Reina del Mar Parlor of the Native Daughters of the Golden West. Sponsored by Councilman Frank Arguelles and enacted by an historically minded Council, the ordinance would probably not have happened without the approval of Mr. T. M. Storke and the interested support of his editorial and reporting staff.

The Santa Barbara Historical Society has received national recognition for its state-wide preservation leadership, for its sponsorship of El Pueblo Viejo Ordinance, and for the restoration and preservation of its historic Trussell-Winchester Adobe and the Judge Charles Fernald Victorian Home.

The Society is dedicated to the preservation of our history.

Santa Barbara is nationally known for its Old Mission, the de la Guerra Adobe, the Carrillo and Covarrubias Adobes, and for the charm and beauty of El Paseo and El Pueblo Viejo historic area. In the minds of people the world over the image of Santa Barbara is one of a charming, beautiful and historic community.

This amazing picture of Santa Barbara is not altogether a truthful one, for with the exception of El Pueblo Viejo area, where there is a defined architectural directive, we are in danger of becoming an architectural con glomeration of styles like any American cityThis something very special that we are throwing out the window can only be saved by ordinances with architectural control, thus assuring a compatible, harmonious, and beautiful city.

We should be reminded that tourism is a most important value to the economy of our community.

Also, may we be reminded of Charles Lummis Stand Fast, Santa Barbara”, which every year is printed by the Editor of the News-Press.

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Lummis warns us that we must not let commercial growth destroy the spirit and romance of our history and that it is our adobes and our heritage that set us apart from other cities.

W. Edwin Gledhill

PROGRESS ON THE NEW HOME The adobe home of The Santa Barbara Historical Society is fast taking shape. Mr. Elmer Whittaker, a pioneer in adobe building and restoration of landmarks, predicts that the building will be completed early in 1964.

Its walls will soon be seen above the street level as the basement of the struc ture is completed. Forty-five thousand of the seventy-five thousand adobe bricks have already been made on the property.

SANTA BARBARA HISTORICAL SOCIETY ANNUAL FIESTA TEA, JULY 26, 1963 The headquarters of The Santa Barbara Historical Society in the Old Mission was the scene of the annual Fiesta Tea on the 26th of July, 1963.

The fine old rooms were filled with a friendly group of members and guests enjoying the rare items on exhibit and the delicious tea arranged by the Women’s Projects Board of the Society, with Mrs. John Locklin as Chair man. Those invited to serve at the tea table were: Mrs. Hilmar Koefod, Mrs. Ray Paine, and Miss Ynez Orena. The flower arrangements were very lovely and were the work of Mrs. Hamilton Greenough and Mrs. Wilson Forbes.

GIFTS Dr. Hilmar 0. Koefod Mrs. Frederick W. Krol!

Mrs. Marjorie Greenwell Overbaugh Miss Litti Paulding Mr. Gaylord G. Purvis Mrs. Dennis R. Savage Mr. Hobart 0. Skofield Mrs. Ray Stowell Miss Margaret Thorpe Mrs. John D. Wells Mr. Elmer Whittaker Mrs. Christine Witlkopf

Mrs. Roy Bauer Mrs. Don Beck Dr, Nils W. Boulduan Mrs. Hugh Boutell Mr. Robert N. Christian Mrs. Reginald Clifford Mrs. M. Dibblee-Poett Miss Frederica D. Poett Mr. Robert E. Easton Miss Virginia Edwards Estate of Frank Giles Katherine Harvey Family Mrs. James Keith

IN MEMORIAM Mrs. Carl Edwards

Mrs. George T. Merritt

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Mrs. Max Koshland

Activity Report—Women's Projects Board The first Fall meeting of the Steering Committee of the Women’s Proj ects Board was held in the conference room of the Montecito Country Club at 10:30 in the morning on September 19, 1963, with Mrs. Ray H. Paine, chairman, presiding. Reports were given by committee chairmen on the summer events, and plans made for the winter and spring program. Following the business session, Mrs. Paine entertained at a luncheon in the Marine Room for 24 Active and Associate members.

At the morning meeting, Miss Mary Chrisman, treasurer, gave a finan cial report of the fourth annual Casa Tour, held on Sunday, August 4, stating that although not all of the receipts and disbursements were complete, the event could be deemed a great success. A proposal was made to send letters of appreciation to the friends who had so generausly opened their homes fox this historic tour, and to the owners of the vintage automobiles and earlyday carriages who had so kindly loaned them for display at each of the resi dences. These included the private homes of Mr. Byron Abraham, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Ingle Hoyt, Dr. and Mrs. Paul Ashton, and the Hunt-Stambach House, owned by the Assistance League. (The Trussell-Winchester Adobe and the Fernald House were also on the tour, as is usual on Sunday after noons. Puneh and Spanish cookies were served on the lawn at this location.)

Owners of the carriages and cars were: George Hammond (Pierce Arrow); James Missimer (1914 Minerva, 1928 Rolls Royce) ; Dr. William Jackson (Model T Ford); Robert I. Hoyt (1930 Packard Club Coupe, 1929 Packard phaeton). The carriages, which were used in the Fiesta parade the next Thursday, were loaned through the courtesy of Old Spanish Days, Inc. Merchants who displayed Victorian and Spanish-Californian costumes of 75 to 100 years ago from the collections of Mancel T. Clark, Jr., and the Women’s Projects Board, the week prior to the Casa Tour, were: Trenwith’s Inc., Peningers; Ingeborg Landen; Fine Feathers; Ott’s Hardware, I. Magnin & Co. Their cooperation is greatly appreciated.

The event was well publicized in the Santa Barbara News-Press, This Week in Santa Barbara, The Goleta Gazette-Citizen, the Los Angeles Times, the Carpinteria Herald, and in the San Luis Obispo and Monterey papers.

KEY-TV and KTMS gave time for interviews on their stations, and to these public relations groups goes a special word of thanks.

Assisting the Board with the tour, were members of the Santa Barbara Chapter of the Women’s Architectural League, with Mrs. J. F. Strickland, projects chairman for the WAL acting as coordinator of hostesses to serve with Wf^B members in the various houses.

Mr. John H. Hartfeld, horticulturist in charge of the Fernald gardens, was present during the afternoon to answer questions and explain plans for future development for those visitors interested.

Among the guests who attended the Tour were the Misses Maria Lorenza Trussell, (daughter of Captain Horatio Gates Trussell, builder of the Trus sell-Winchester adobe, in 1854) and Jennie Kimberly, (daughter of Captain Martin Morse Kimberly who salvaged the materials for the adobe, from the wreck of the coastal steamer, “Winfield Scott” following its destruction on Anacapa Island, in 1853). Miss Trussell celebrated her 81st birthday on 30

August 10, and Miss Kimberly her 89th, on September 12. Also present, was Henry Stambach (son of Dr. Henry Stambach), who had been born in an upstairs bedroom of the house, after the doctor had purchased it from Col. C. C. Hunt in 1891 and moved it from the corner of State and Anapamu streets, to 15 W. Victoria street. It was his first visit to his former home since its restoration by the Assistance League, in 1955, and he was very pleased with the fine care it was now receiving.

The response of the public to the Casa Tour was very gratifying, for, due to the wide publicity given it, many of the more than 800 visitors were from out of town.

On September 7, WPB member Ann Grocott and her husband, Vincent, opened their cottage at Paradise Camp to the active members for a potluck steak barbecue party. Falling as it did during the early September hot spell, it was a delightful occasion and a welcome location to be in, for it was re freshingly cool under the spreading, gnarled oaks of the canyon.

On Tuesday, September 24, active members assembled at the Fernald House to complete plans for the “soiree”’ on the evening of September 27, held at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Vincent Grocott in Hope Ranch. The pro gram was given by CWO Hubert B. Gilliam, USN (ret.), who narrated his moving pictures taken in Japan, made while he was stationed in Japan dur ing a part of his 30 years spent in Navy service.

So many visitors to the historic homes on Sunday tours have asked for a souvenir of the houses that the board had colored post cards made of the Fernald House, and have these for sale for a minimum price. It is hoped that a similar card can be made of the Adobe.

On June 24, two bus loads of visitors on tour from Oakland with the Gordon Baker Lloyd Garden Tours, came by arrangement with Mrs. Ray Paine for a special viewing of the Fernald House and the Trussell-Winchester adobe. They were particularly interested in the plantings in the Memory garden at the former residence. Mrs. Gene Harris, garden chairman, and Mrs. Paine conducted the tour of the Fernald House and grounds; Mr. Horace Sexton, son of Joseph Sexton, pioneer horticulturist of Goleta, and Mrs. George H. Finley, showed the guests through the Adobe. Similar private tours can be arranged for any day, by telephoning 96 2-7712.

A recent folder showing historic homes in California and Arizona and distributed by Union 76 service stations, lists the Fernald House and TrussellWinchester Adobe, as “must” places for visitors to see when in California, and it is not unusual to find these folders in the hands of many of our outof-state guests.

In commemoration of the 113th anniversary of California’s admission to statehood on September 9, 1950, members of Reina del Mar Parlor 126, NDGW, gave a tea at the Fernald House on Sunday, September 8, honoring pioneers and descendants of pioneers. Mrs. Harry T. Hodgkins, president of the parlor, and Mrs. Raymond La Pointe, tea chairman, greeted the guests.

Paul J. Sweetser, a past president of the Santa Barbara Historical Society, and a native of this city, was the speaker at this event. Following the pro gram, members were conducted on a tour of the two homes by members of the Women’s Projects Board.

New Associate members are: Mmes. John P. Blanchard, Orville A. Smith.

Stephan White, and Alfred B. Wilcox.

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Recent donors and their gifts: From Mr. W. Edwin Gledhill—a print of the “Winfield Scott”, made by him from a glass negative, found in the collection of Mr. Reed, an early Santa Barbara protographer; now owned by the Santa Barbara Historical Society. It has been framed, and hangs in the Trussell-Winchester Adobe, which was constructed from parts of the wreckage of the vessel.

From Mr. and Mrs. Maurice Boyd—a toy cast iron stove, of late 19th century style, which was once used as a salesman’s model; with it is a set of pots and pans of the type used in those early years. They are in the “chil dren’s room” as are the toy two-seated wooden garden swing and a toy mover’s dolly”, also gifts from Mr. and Mrs. Boyd.

From Mrs. V. H. Morgan (Kathleen Eddy)—a collection of delftware, for the antique cabinet in the music room.

From Mrs. Ray H. Paine—a pair of “gossip fans” which had belonged to her great-grandmother Emerson, an aunt of Ralph Waldo Emerson, of Massachusetts. The 200-year old fans ornament the fireplace in the Fernald House dining room. In the secretary in the Adobe, are a sewing kit, a leather jewel box, and a round trinket box, also from her great-grandmother Em erson.

Tintypes of members of the family of John and Alvira Moseley, of Westfield, Massachusetts, and of Mr. and Mrs. Sabbot Ives and their son, Senator Matthew Ives, who married a daughter of John and Alvira Moseley, and the tiny white satin wedding slippers worn by Alvira at her wedding to John in 1726, are also the gift of Mrs. Paine.

From Mrs. Gene Harris—a watercolor of Henry Chapman Ford, and an antique plate which is in the breakfront in the music room.

WiLBERTA M. Finley

NEW MEMBERS ACTIVE

SUSTAINING

Mr. Harry Dunn Miss Erma Carlsen Mr. and Mrs. Robert 0. Easton Mrs. H. W. Furlong Lt. and Mrs. David Gledhill Mr. Harry Graybill Mr. William Guntermann Mrs. C. M. Kefes Mr. Milton L. Kosberg Miss Wilma Lowsley Mr. Francis McGowan Mr. Courtenay Monsen .Mrs. John Frederic Murphy Mr. David Myrick Property Research Corporation Dr. and Mrs. W. T. Robbins Miss Noel Ruhberg Mrs. Dennis Savage Mr. Delbert Smith Mr. and Mrs. Richard .Smith Mrs. Jessie Gorham Toll Mrs. John W. Tudor

Mr. and Mrs. Allen W. Finger Mr. and Mrs. Don F. Frost Mr. and Mrs. George Girvan Higginson Mr. and Mrs. Floyd D. Kenney Mr. John B. Mackinlay Mrs. John M. Morehart Mrs. Richard Raymond Dr. and Mrs. Paul 0. Sorensen Mr. and Mrs. Harry Whitney CONTRIBUTING Dr. and Mrs. Dowdre L. Carswell Mr. Sidney F. Heckert, Jr. Mrs. Oliver Dudley Knight Mrs. Cynthia Hollister Masek Mr. and Mrs. Kenneth St Oegger PATRON Dr. and Mrs. Thurman K. Hill Mr. and Mrs. Donald R. Phillips Mrs. Charles Deer Wiman

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SANTA BARBARA HISTORICAL SOCIETY

OFFICERS President First Vice President Second Vice President.

●Dr. Hilmar 0. Kocfod Hugh J, Weldon Mrs. Wilson Forbes Paul G. Sweetser

Secretary Treasurer Past President

Mrs. Henry Griffiths .Thomas J. McDermott

DIRECTORS Mrs. Charles H. Cannon John D. Gill Mrs. W. Edwin Gledhill Rev. Virgil Cordano Mrs. Godwin Pclissero John Jordano, Jr. Lockwood Tower Edward S. Spaulding

Mrs. Robert Ingle Hoyt Garrett Van Horne Elmer H. Whittaker Dr. Irving N. Wills Thomas M. Storke* John Galvin « * Honorary Directors

●Museum Director Curator Edilor-in-Chief

W. Edwin Gledhill Mrs. W. Edwin Gledhill Edward Selden

Spaulding.

HISTORICAL SOCIETY MEMBERSHIP Classes of membership; Benefactor, $100; Patron, $25; Contributing, $15; Sustaining, $10; Active, $7.50; Student, $5. Dues are tax deductible.

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