Let's Take a Walk Down State Street Circa "Turn of the Century"

Santa Barbara, California 1846.

“A people that take no pride in the nohle achievements of re mote ancestors will never achieve anythin «5 woi’thy to be reinem- Macaulcy. bered with pride by remote descendants Vol. XVI, No. 4

WINTER, 1970

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Old Mission as it looked in 1890.

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LET’S TAKE A WALK DOWN STATE STREET CIRCA ‘‘TURN OF THE CENTURY99 A photo tour of Santa Barbara’s principal thorofare and the waterfront when father was young.

If you were to have taken a walk down State street at or before the Turn of the Century, or if you had been, in a hurry and taken a horse car, starting from the Arlington Hotel at Victoria street, you would have passed, among others, the buildings whose photographs are reproduced in this issue of NOTICIAS. Of course there were many interesting landmarks and events which, for lack of space or because we have not been able to find suitable photos for reproduction, we have had to leave out.

Diehl’s Grocery in the 800 block (Diehl’s had three locations on State Street before it finally closed) for example, is one of these. It was known across the nation and considered equal, if not superior to Charles of New York or Golberg-Bowen of San Francisco. It was unique as a rendezvous for the elite of Santa Barbara and Montecito who made a habit of dropping in for tea of an afternoon and talking over the events of the day. One can still, in memory see, hear and smell freshly grinding ^‘Moca and Java' or savor the delectable pastries that enticed old and young alike to take home

a bag-full.

Original Arlington Hotel on State street between Victoria and Sola. (1875)

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Looking down State street from Victoria. Commercial Bank, San Marcos Hotel (formerly Santa Barbara College) and steeple of the Presbyterian church on the right. Clock building left distance.

BELOW: Horse car No. 1 tearing down State street to catch incoming steamer from San Francisco leaving Arlington Hotel, 1875.

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Reverse of picture on opposite page. Presbyterian church and San Marcos Hotel on left, with Arlington Hotel in distance.

BELOW: Pioneer banker Mortimer Cook’s Clock Building at State and Carrillo, longtime principal landmark in toivn.

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This early view taken from the Clock Tower at Carrillo and State street looks North to the Mission showinii the commanding site chosen by the Franciscans a century earlier. 'The street along the bottom of the picture is Figueroa and the while adobe (where the Municipal Parking facility is today) ivas the Burke adobe (1830).

BELOW: Looking up Slate street with 1st National Gold Bank (now United California) at Canon Perdido. Clock Bldg, tower at the right.

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/4/ 809 State street, just above De la Guerra. Capt. Alpheus Thompson built this two-story Monterey style house for his bride. The building was later converted into the San Carlos (St. Charles) Hotel and was used by Lt. Col. Fremont in December, 1846 as his headquarters.

BELOW: Same vicjv as that on opposite page, but from the west side of Stale street, showing Jose Lobero’s famous Brewery Saloon (tvhere Security Bank stands now).

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In the 1870's State street at the center of town looked like this. Typical flat bed truck unloading at a wholesale supply house. Mascarel Hotel shown in distance on right. The tivo-story building on the right is still standing at 718 State street.

BELOW: By the 1890’s the town had come of age. Telegraph poles bespeak '‘progress” and in fact the horse-car was giving way to the electric car (a block behind).

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street on De la Guerra stood (and stands) the venerable De

la Guerra “mansion” facing the Plaza. Long the most important house in Santa Barbara, this home of Comrnandante Jose de la Guerra was the scene, in 1836, of the ivedding of his daughter Anita to Alfred Robinson, an Ameri can shipping agent. The story of the ivedding is told in Richard Henry 9> Dana’s “Two Years Before The Mast.

BELOW: The rear of the De la Guerra house showing the “altito” above the court yard (North end of the present Street in Spain) where De la Guerra kept his cash and other valuables, according to legend.

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Looking North on State street (500-block with Mascarel Hotel on left. Stage line depot on right). Note covered sideivalks on many buildings so typical of western toivns in the I9th Century. On the horizon top left is the St. Vincent’s Orphanage, now the K. C. Hall.

New Morris House (1878) at State and Haley streets, leading “downtown commercial hotel.

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Lower Clock Building (Fithian Bldg.) at Ortega and Slate (now the Park Building) where “the finest chimes in Southern California” rang out every quarter hour. This ivas the business center of town in ’90’s. Loiver tivo stories still standing as Park Building.

BELOW: Arrival of first train from Los Angeles at first depot (a box car) on Gutierrez street. Episcopal church loiver at left, August 20, 1887.

The luxurious and popular Potter Hotel built in 1901 by Milo M. Potter was opened just as the Soutern Pacific completed the last link of the coastal railroad betiveen San Francisco and Los Angeles. It quickly became one of the leading tourist resorts in the state and remained so for twenty years until, as the Ambassador in 1921 it burned to the ground during a fierce wind storm.

The Potter stood on Burton Mound, named for one of its many owners and was the site of an ancient Indian Village. The six-story structure contained 600 rooms and was lavishly decorated with antiques and valuable paintings.

Mr. Isaac A. Bonilla, author of an article in the Spring, 1969 issue of NOTICIAS entitled “Some Recollections of a Retired Deputy Fire Chief,” recalled how he helped to save some of the valuable objects of art during the great fire.

All that remains today to recall the presence of the big hotel is the name of the Ambassador Tract and a tiny city park facing Cabrillo Boule vard in the 200 block. The double rotv of tall palms skirting the lawn marked the central entrance to the hotel.

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VIEWS

portraits,

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gallery

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photo!

CR0CeRIC3.

At Haley and Slate street this enterprising' photographer occupied the major part of a two-story building and offered free dark room privileges for ama teurs, as well 05 instruction in the art.

BELOW: Pictured here is a Fourth of duly picnic in the Nintics at Burton’s Mound tvhere later, the Potter Hotel was located. The Burton Adobe is seen through the trees at the left of the picture.

The above picture shows the once most popular steamer of the Pacific Coast Steamship Company, the “Santa Rosa” moored alongside Stearns Wharf in the early ’90’5. The Santa Rosa foundrcd on the rocks near Pt. Arguello in 1905. In 1887 following the arrival of the first train from Los Angeles, a spur tressel teas added to the wharf for a railroad track, though its teas never used to any extent. It was later removed except for a small section ivhich is still a part of the main wharf.

The picture also shows the famous “Castle Rock” at the end of the near est promontory below the Mesa. This was near the point where the Break water was built in 1929 largely through the generosity of Major Max Fleischmann who teas also the benefactor of so many other public and private projects, including restoration of the Old Mission following the earthquake.

Above Castle Rock rises the Mesa, and above that is what we now call “TV Hill,” the home of KEYT, Channel 3. The hill is lost in the shadoiv at (he right. With the coming of air travel years ago, one of the beacons ivhich marked the ainvay across the country and along the coast was set up on the hilltop. It flashed a special signal 24-hours a day when needed to guide pilots. It teas dismantled folloiving the war.

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At the urging of Col IF. W. Hollister prominent and wealthy rancher, John P. Stearns, a retired laivyer and more lately a lumber merchant, built this ivharj in 1872, thus ending the necessity of ship’s passengers having to he carried pick-a-back by sailors through the surf to shore. It also made it possible to unload lumber from the Northwest schooners directly on the wharf instead of floating it to the beach. In a sense, the construction of the wharf, which carries its builder’s name to this day, heralded the beginning of modern Santa Barbara.

In the same year the first Chamber of Commerce, then called the Im migration Bureau, was started and the first order of business was planning tourist hotel. Again Col. Hollister came to the fore and helped to

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finance the proposed hotel, just as he had done for the wharf.

At this time an eastern writer, Charles Nordhoff, who had been subsi dized by the Southern Pacific Railroad to help promote the western properties of the expanding railroad, visited Santa Barbara and tvrote so glowingly about the area in his latest travel book, “California for Health, Pleasure and Residence” that soon the demand for hotel accommodations by eastern tour ists exceeded the ability of the town to handle the influx. Thus the Arlington came into being.

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Santa Barbara ivaterjront in the early 1870's before the development of West (Cabrillo) Boulevard. The first bath house at the foot of Dihblee Hill is shown at the right-center of the picture.

BELOW: Cabrillo Boulevard shortly after the street was paved and palm trees laid out. This was before the Potter Hotel teas built. In the left fore ground is the roof of the Banos del Mar on the plaza of that name where hundreds of residents and visitors enjoyed the plunge, the boivling alleys and the band concerts ivhich were featured on Sundays.

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Playa del Mar on Ifest Beach al the end of West Boulevard (now Cabrillo) was perhaps the most popular recreation spot in town for a number of years. Here were a succession of bath houses, each more luxurious than the last. By the time the Potter was built the “Banos del Mar” in this picture bowling alley, billiard parlor, outdoor sported an indoor heated plunge, handstand for Sunday concerts, and an upper deck with benches and re freshment stand. There was also a fishing and recreation pier (shown at the large number of comfortable benches. right), and around the plaza This picture was made shortly after the completion of the Potter Hotel and shows the beginnings of the landscaping. The elevation from tvhich the photo was made was known as Fossil Hill. It was leveled a few years ago to make way for a parking area.

AN HISTORIC KEEPSAKE FOR MEMBERS steel engraving of the original plan for history of the Washington Monument (1833) together with A reproduction of

the keepsake has been made available to the members of the Santa Barbara Historical Society by Mrs. E. Seldoii Spaulding.

This 11 X 14^” document may be picked up at the Museum Office any afternoon.

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■ * Looking dotin upon the Jfest Beach area ivith the Dibblee mansion commanding a panoramic view of the Bay, the town and the Mesa. The house stood where Santa Barbara City College is now located.

BELOW: The famous Dibblee mansion on the brow of the Mesa, for years a prominent landmark dominating the city and seen from far at sea. Note the old Spanish cannon on the lawn, from a fort that once commanded the

bay.

A DAY WITH THE GOMEZ FAMILY By Helen T. Weldon In. the last issue of NOTICIAS we published a little story by Helen T. Weldon entitled “A Visit to the Doctor” We promised at that time to run another story by Mrs. Weldon in the near future, and here it is. It delightfully brings us back to the pastoral days of Santa Barbara when the pace of life was slower and neighbors were often more neighborly than they are today.

It was a warm August morning in the year 1903. The fog lay over the town like a soft white blanket, but on our hill in Mission Canyon the sun was bright.

Right after breakfast, we three children, sisters of thirteen, nine and seven years of age, ran out of doors to play. Soon we saw Mrs. Gomez, our neighbor, come panting up the hill. She was on her way home from early mass at the Old Mission. Mama came out of the house just then to speak to us.

When she saw Mrs. Gomez she said: “Good morning, Mrs. Gomez, and how are you this beautiful morning?”

Mrs. Gomez answered: “Buenas dias, Senora.” A note of complaint came into her voice. “’Stoy malo,” she said, “la rheuma ’sta muy malo.

She passed her hand over her thigh and added: “Ai, ai, malo, malo.

“I’m sorry,” Mama said. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry. I hope you are better soon.

Mrs. Gomez said: “Gracias,” then smiled and said “adios,” as she walked on.

I was standing beside Mama,so I whispered to her: “What did she say? >5

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She said her rheumatism is very bad.

As an afterthought, more to herself than to me, she said: “Poor soul!

Her teeth are terrible. Some people think that bad teeth sometimes cause yy rheumatism. I wonder if that could be true.

Then she smiled at me and said: “Maybe you had better run and help yy

her up that steep place in the path.

At Mama’s suggestion, I ran to Mrs. Gomez and took her hand and pulled to help her up where it was steep and rough going. When we reached yy the top she patted my arm and said: “Gracias!

She stood still until she had caught her breath, then she repeated: Gracias! ’Sta muchachita bonita.” And she smiled at me.

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No one had ever told me before that I was a pretty little girl, so it quite went to ray head, and I thought she was wonderful.

She herself was a handsome woman, with fine features which suggested Castilian ancestry, or possibly English.

She said to me: You come my house pretty soon. I going make tor¬

tillas.'

“How soon?” I asked eagerly.

“Oh,’bout an hour,” she said, “and bring your leetle seesters.”

We were at her house very promptly in half an hour.

She had a fire of oak wood and chaparral burning in her wood stove.

The kitchen was a “lean-to,” with no wall at all on the south side. The floor was just hard-packed dirt, swept clean.

She greeted us eordially and said: “I just going make now.”

Into a bowl she put a quantity of flour. Then she added a pinch of this and a dab of that, such as salt, cornmeal and melted fat. She stirred this around, and added water gradually and kneaded it on a board until it was just the right consistency. She floured her hands and took a wad of the dough. She rolled it between her palms until she had a ball smaller than a tennis ball. She kept flouring her hands every once in awhile, then she patted the ball flat between her palms. When it got larger than her hands she started slapping it from one hand to the other with a throwing motion.

Before our astonished eyes the dough got thinner and thinner, and bigger and bigger around, until it looked like a big white pancake about fourteen inches across.

This she slapped down on top of the stove. Once in awhile she picked up an edge and peeked under to see how it was coming. When it was delicately scorched in spots, she picked it up and slapped the other side down onto the stove.

When both sides were done to her satisfaction, she picked it up and tore it into three pieces and gave us each a piece. To us it was strange and wonderful. We loved it.

She picked up some more dough and started to make another tortilla.

While that was cooking we wandered through the rest of the house, just two small rooms besides the kitchen. The first room had assorted beds and didn’t interest us.

The second room was the parlor. In one corner was a little shrine. It was just a small shelf with a colored picture of the Holy Virgin. A votive candle burned in front of the picture, and on each side of the candle were fresh geraniums, carefully arranged in some cracked cups.

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Very much enlarged photographs of three men hung on the walls. Each had a wall to himself, and the fourth wall was blank. I stood looking at them, fascinated by the huge mustache of one and by the heavy curly black hair of another.

I asked Mrs. Gomez who the men were, and she said: “Those all my ’osbands.

I asked: “Where are they now?”

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She pointed to two of them and said: “They die.

She pointed to the curly-headed one and said: “She go away. I donno what happen to heem. She gone long time. She go shear sheep in Nevada and no come back. So the priest say: ‘More better you get marry again.’

So I marry with Mr. Gomez.

Mr. Gomez was blind and was sitting on the porch in an old rocker, sunning himself. He spoke then and said: ti

When I die she’ll put my picture on the other wall.” And he laughed.

He was a veteran of the Spanish-American War, and because he had been blinded at that time he received a pension from the government of S8.00 a month. This was enough to buy “frijoles” and a few extras, so they were content.

We went back to the kitchen to watch Mrs. Gomez cook one more tortilla. While we were there, Ethel asked her: “Isn’t it awful cold here when it rains and when there is snow on the mountains?”

Mrs. Gomez smiled and said: “In winter time we move stove in bedroom.

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Keep whole house warm. Then we have wood in here. Keeps dry. >9 Ethel said: “I wish our house was like this.

Mrs. Gomez smiled and said: “Oh, no. Your Papa make you nice house.

More better than this. You like it, no?”

Ethel said: “I guess so. But Mama’s kitchen is awful hot today and 99

yours isn’t.

99 Lucie asked: “Where are Carlos and Inez?

Mrs. Gomez said: “Inez she help Mrs. Woods today, do washing and ironing. Carlos, she help Sebastian in gardens. She learn to be a good 99

gardener.

Carlos, a slender, graceful dark-featured young man of eighteen years, and Inez, not so slender but light and graceful on her feet when dancinO’ were her children. Carlos was the son of her first husband, and Inez was the daughter of her second. She had had other children, but they had died.

She handed Lucie her last tortilla and said: “Now, you take this one home to your Mama.” And so she tactfully got rid of us.

When Lucie showed it to Mama, Mama took a little taste and said: 99

“Mercy! That must be indigestible.

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We all chorused: “It’s good,” and promptly ate it up.

After lunch, we wanted to go over again, but Mama said: “No. Mrs. Gomez has had enough of you for one day. You may just stay at home.

So we spent the afternoon at home, with many a longing glance toward the Gomez casa.

After supper, we were in the garden with Papa when we heard music.

It was Carlos, playing his concertina. We decided that it would not be wise to ask Mama if we might go over, so we asked Papa. He didn’t know we had been there most of the morning.

He walked with us to the fence and called to Carlos to ask if we might come over for awhile. Carlos was gracious, and we went, while Papa re turned to the house and left us.

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Play some more, Carlos,” we begged.

Carlos picked up his concertina and sat down on the edge of the porch, leaning back comfortably against a post, and started to play a medley of tunes. Soon he got up and bowed to Inez, saying: “Will you dance?

Never will we forget the magic of that evening. The air was balmy and sweet with the heavy fragrance of the Datura, or Mission Bells. We girls sat on boxes and watched. Inez, with laughing eyes, placed her little hands on Carlos’s shoulders. Carlos put his arms around her, holding his concertina behind her back. Then he played “Sobre las Olas” (over the waves), and other songs, the names of which I do not remember. And together they danced on the hard-packed ground under a huge pepper tree. Moonlight, bright moonlight, feathered through the lacy leaves of the old tree, casting a spell of charm over the happily dancing young people.

Mrs. Gomez sat on the porch in a rocking chair, tapping her feet lightly to the rhythm of the music, and in certain spots clapping her hands for accent, all the time softly humming the tune. Blind Mr. Gomez stood in one spot on the porch and stomped to the rhythm with his feet and cane. We were fascinated.

When Carlos was finally out of breath from playing the concertina and dancing, too, he stopped to rest.

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Then Mama’s voice came clearly: “Chil-dren! Come home!

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I answered disgustedly: “All right.

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Carlos bowed to us and said: “Adios, amigos.

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We said:: “Good-bye,” and they all said: “Adios.

As we started slowly home we heard an owl hoot in a nearby tree.

55 Lucie asked: “What’s that?

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Ethel, who had been reading fairy stories, said: “Maybe it’s a witch, riding on her broomstick.”

I said: “Don’t be silly. That’s an owl.”

Just the same, we all moved a little faster. We were crawling through the wire fence, which divided our places, when a high-pitched, spine-chilling wail pierced the air, and was followed by a bedlam of howls and wails. The sounds came from the hills behind us, and we knew that the coyotes were on their nightly prowl, and that they had made a kill and were fighting over it.

Then we really moved. How relieved we were when we saw Papa stand ing in the path, laughing at us for being scared, and how brave we felt as soon as we were with him!

When we got into the house, Mama said: “You’ve been over at Gomez’s all morning. You have wanted to go all afternoon, and now you have spent the evening with them. Don’t you know they will get awfully tired of you?

What is the big attraction over there, anyway?”

Lucie said: “We like them.”

I said: “They’re nice.

Ethel thought a little and then said: “They are happy, and they laugh lots, and they sing and they dance.”

Mama smiled:

Well, I’m glad you had a pleasant evening, and now

it is bedtime for all of you, so run along, and I’ll be in pretty soon to tell you good-night.

And that night we dreamed of the happy people, dancing in the moon light under the pepper trees.

THE SOCIETY DEDICATES A BRONZE PLAQUE IN MEMORY OF EDWARD BOREIN On Friday, December 4 (which happens to be the anniversary of the founding of Santa Barbara Mission in 1786) the Santa Barbara Historical Society unveiled a bronze plague dedicated to the memory of Ed Borein, famous Western artist, beside the entrance to ivhat had been his studio workshop in the Street in Spain at El Paseo. Present were members of the Board of the Society, officers and staff, and many friends of the artist. The unveiling was performed by Mrs. Godwin Pelissero, xvith Whitney Genns, another Board member (Co-Chairmen) assisting.

Edward Selden Spaulding, former Editor of NOTICIAS, and a longtime close friend of Ed Borein, recalled his pleasant association with the artist.

His remarks follow:

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EDWARD BOREIN Ed Borein was a great draughtsman — a really great draughtsman.

He could and did draw horses and steers realistically in every conceivable position. More than this, he was especially skillful in depicting rapid, even violent, motion in unmistakable lines. Three-quarters of a century ago, it was Frederic Remington who was the accepted master when it came to a fastmoving horse. Some of you may remember that the Rough Riders gave to their commander, Theodore Roosevelt, the “Bucking Bronco” in bronze that was the work of Remington. I have here a print of this bucking bronco and also the little etching that Ed Borein made of a bucking bronco not too long after he opened his studio here. Comparing the two, it is easy to see who was the master at depicting swift, violent motion.

In addition to his great ability to draw, Ed was a “character,” a man set apart by those basic virtues that endeared him to all of us. He was loyal to his friends just as naturally as he was 170 pounds in weight, he could not tolerate inaccuracy of detail in his drawing, he lived almost wholly in the present, and he kept no books or other records. And so it happens that today we do not know how many etchings he made or how many copies he pulled from this or that plate after he had cut it to his satisfaction. We do know, though, that one of his etchings, the one in which a heavy bull is leading a small bunch of cattle to water, caused him much worry and soul-searching.

As he explained it to me, he happened to show this etching to a companion of his early, pre-etching days.

“Did you do that?” demanded the cowman incredulously.

“Sure I did,” replied Ed. “Huuummmph!” muttered the cowman.

“What’s the matter with it?” demanded Ed. “If you don’t know, I won’t tell you,” stated the other as he left the

studio.

Ed studied the etching with the greatest care. What in Hell was the matter with the blankety-blank thing! (Quite naturally and without giving offense, Ed was profane in his every day conversation and in his thoughts.

What in Hell is the matter with it?”) He studied the problem for weeks.

At last, it came to him that a bull is a slow walker when compared to a steer; and so it was unlikely that this blankety-blank bull that he had drawn would be in the lead of this small herd when it was going to water.

Another story that I like very much had to do with a rodeo at Salinas, when Ed and Dr. Irving Wills had gone there as knowledgeable spectators.

As many of you may remember, Nat Wills, a really fine surgeon, and Ed were close friends. At one time in the proceedings, the shute door opened and out burst the usual rider and bucking horse. After a few jumps, it be came evident that the rider was losing his seat. Then, off he went! As he

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landed on the ground, Nat saw his leg buckle under him in such a way that Nat knew that the leg had broken. ”Oh-oh,” said Nat. “That guy’s got a broken leg.”

Getting up from his seat, Nat left the stands and went out on the field to be of as much service to the rider as was possible. The leg was broken — badly broken. Knowing that the man was going to suffer much pain when he was carried from the field and when riding to the hospital in an ambulance, Nat picked up a stick here and another there and, using htese as crude splints, he set about immobilizing the lower part of the leg. For bandages he held up his hand and Ed, having followed his friend as a matter of course, gave Nat his bandana and scarf. All the while, they could hear the loud speaker asking for a doctor to help the injured man on the field.

When a local doctor at last did come up to the little group, he saw what was being done and he misjudged the situation entirely; he took it that Nat was a Scoutmaster performing an act of first aid. Putting his hand on Nat’s shoulder, he pulled Nat back a little as he remarked: “I’m a doctor.

I’ll take over now.”

To Nat, who had a really wide reputation as a surgeon, this was an amusing incident and he stepped back as ordered with a broad smile on his face. But it was not amusing to Ed! He had no intention whatever of allowhis friend to be pushed aside in that way. He stepped forward and with some definiteness he pushed the local doctor aside.

“Hold on here!” he cried. “Do you know you’re talking to the greatest surgeon in Southern California? That’s Dr. Irving Wills, of Santa Barbara.”

Another story, which has to do with this picture of a mule-drawn stage coach, is very illuminating when it is considered in the light of Ed’s character and the way he worked.

One day, Ed decided that he would make an etching of a stagecoach.

As was his custom, he picked up the piece of paper or cardboard or whatever that lay nearest to his hand. In this case, it was a rectangle of white cardboard. (The picture, or part of a picture, that Edwin Gledhill pronounced to be the best drawing of Ed’s, was done on a strip of brown wrap ping paper.) Ed made the drawing in India ink and, when he had it the way he wanted it to be, he copied it on a copper plate. The original drawing he pushed aside carelessly, and he more or less forgot it. Then, some time later, he found himself in need of a stiff surface on which to draw or write.

The rectangle of cardboard was handy, so he picked it up and, fastening a clean piece of paper to it with thumbtacks, he began to draw. And so, for a while, this really fine picture served as a drawing board. Then, another stiff surface came into use and this one was thrown into the waste basket.

At this point, Nat Wills entered the studio. Nat saw the cardboard at once, and he went to the waste basket.

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What’s this?” he asked of Ed. 99

O' was the reply.

Oh, that blankety-blank thinO’

Nat took up the drawing and examined it critically, for he admired Ed’s work very much. u

Why did you throw it away?” he asked. (( 91 Why, I’ve got no use for the blankety-blank thing.

Nat looked at the drawing again. He decided that it was very good indeed. ti

Selden likes mules,” he told Ed tentatively.

Give it to him, then,” said Ed.

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And so the drawing came to me.

Obviously, Ed was a great draughtsman, a generous friend, and an unusual “character” in many other, appealing ways.

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Whitney Genns and Mrs. Godwin Pelissero at Dedication.

—News-Press Photo

AN ASTERISK! An asterisk in the wrong place recently left the impression that one of our Directors was deceased. As Mark Twain once remarked: “The report of 99 his demise was greatly exaggerated!

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SANTA BARBARA HISTORICAL SOCIETY OFFICERS President

Francis Price

First Vice-President ..

Mrs. Wilson Forbes

Second Vice-President

Hugh J. Weldon Mrs. Charles H. Cannon

Secretary Treasurer

... William K. Serumgard Mrs. Henry Griffiths

Museum Director Editor of Noticias

Courtenay Monsen

DIRECTORS Mrs. William B. Azbell

Edward Kemble

Mrs. Charles Cannon

Mrs. Leo T. McMahon

Rev. Virgil Cordano, O.F.M. Mrs. Edwin Deuter

Dr. Edward Lamb Mrs. Godwin Pelissero Francis Price

Col. Henry deB. Forbes, Jr. Mrs. Wilson Forbes

W. K. Serumgard Garrett Van Horne

Whitney T. Genns Mrs. W. Edwin Gledhill

Hugh J. Weldon

John Jordano, Jr. HONORARY DIRECTORS John Galvin

Thomas More Storke

HISTORICAL SOCIETY MEMBERSHIPS Classes of membership: Benefactor, 85000.00 or more; Life, $1000.00; Patron, $500.00; Fellow, $100.00; Associate, $50.00; Contributing, $25.00; Sustaining, $10.00; Active, $7.50; Student, $5.00. Dues are tax deductible.

Mailing Address: 136 East De la Guerra Street

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Santa Barbara, California 93101

Contributions to the Society are tax exempt.

Cover picture: from Illustrated London News,1846.

Nen-Prefil Org. QUARTERLY BULLETIN

U. $. Postage

OF THE

PA I D

SANTA BARBARA HISTORICAL SOCIETY

Santo Barbaro, Colif.

Permit No. 534

136 EAST DE LA GUERRA STREET SANTA BARBARA, CALIFORNIA 93101