HISTORY OF GEORGE HARLAN (#852)
Recollections of his daughter, Mary Ann Harlan Smith (#2991)
Submitted by James Rogers Harlan who received it in December, 1985, from Trudy Hunt Smith, Klamath, Falls, OR

Born 1802 Lincoln County, Kentucky. Wagon Master of the early emigrants to California in 1846, part of the same wagon train as the Donner party.

This recollections of a pioneer Mother, told by Mary Ann Harlan Smith (#2991), the daughter of George Harlan. To her daughter, Emma Smith.

Mary Harlan born in Wayne County, Indiana, October 8, 1826. Left Indian Creek, Kansas, in the same emigrants’ wagon train as the Donner party in 1846. She saw California become a state. She lived at Mission San Jose, then Oakland in a cabin in the Redwoods where her daughter, Julia, the first Anglo-American child in that city was born. Later they moved to Alvarado where her husband created the legislature forming Alameda County, and the first court house was over their store in Alvarado where a historical tablet now marks the site. In l9l9, she returned to Oakland where she died at the age of 96.

The name Harlan may not recall a famous event to the minds of many, but the name of the Donner Wagon Train is certain to be familiar to all. However, the tragic group which made up the Donner party started from Missouri in 1846 as part of a Wagon Train led by GEORGE HARLAN, their head Wagon Master!!. In Weber Canyon, Utah, the party which was to be trapped in the snow of Donner Pass, left the Harlan train and entered into history. George Harlan's group arrived safely at its destination.

My father, George Harlan, was a natural born pioneer. He was a member of the famous Harlan Family of Kentucky, where he was born in 1802. When a small boy, his Father died, leaving the mother with eight children. The family moved to Ohio, where they lived until George Harlan was a young man. From Ohio, he went to Indiana, where he married Elizabeth Duncan. To them were born seven children, Rebecca, Mary (the author of these recollections), Joel, Samuel, (who died in youth), Nancy, Jacob and Elisha.

Our home in Indiana was near an Indian Village. Indians passed very often, going quite a distance to obtain liquor. I well remember an occasion when an old Indian knocked at the door of our log house. Father was away, and mother would not open the door. The Indian climbed upon the roof and threw his blanket down the chimney. My sister, Rebecca, grabbed it from the Fire. In spite of this, he let himself down the chimney, and seeming very unconcerned went to the door and opened it, and let in another Indian. His squaw was sitting on an old horse in front of the house, singing an Indian song. Mother gave them some food, and in a short time they went their way.

Father was greatly interested in new countries, so he made up his mind to move to Michigan which was comparatively unsettled. We located with in a few miles on a farm. Father engaged in farming for a number of years. The scythe and the cradle being used to harvest grain. On this place we had some Maple Sugar trees. In the spring they were tapped and a hollowed piece of elderberry called a spile, was used to drain the sap into little wooden troughs. These troughs were emptied into barrels, which were hauled on sleds to the camps. Here were large kettles hung on a crane over an open fire, and the sap was boiled until it became a thick syrup. Then the whites of eggs were used to clarify the syrup. When it began to sugar it was poured into molds. Children enjoyed this season very much, filling the egg shells with syrup, cleaning the empty kettles with our hickory paddles, and pouring the syrup into the snow to make candy.

The little log school house where we attended school was about a mile from our house. Here we sat on long benches, and studied our A,B,C,s from Webster’s spelling book. We had several teachers but the one I liked best was a Miss Susan Crocker, who taught us lessons by rote. Our chief amusement in winter was the spelling school. Contests were held in the different school district there was great rivalry among the young folks. On moonlight night, with the ground covered with snow, the young people in sleighs and cutters made merry while sleighbells jingled on the Frosty air.

There were several tribes of Indians in our vicinity, but with few exceptions they were very friendly. One little incident may be interesting: an Indian called Joe Moccasin who was drunk, came to my Aunt Polly Wimmers home and took a baby dress from the wall and tore it in pieces. He then put on my Uncle's coat and started off. Aunt Polly could not make him take it off, so she picked up her baby in one hand and the broomstick in the other and drove him ahead of her to our house. The men had all gone to help with a threshing machine, which was about the first one to be used in the neighborhood. We were frightened when we beheld Aunt Polly arrive with the Indian, but just then, we saw two men passing on horseback. We hailed them and they took the coat off the Indian.

The government made a treaty with the Indians, buying their land. Twice a year they went to Detroit to receive their pay, and came back with all sorts of things, horses, blankets, clothing, jewelry and food. The squaws used broadcloth for skirts, wrapping it around their bodies. After a time the government decided to move these Indians west. It was a sad sight when they started. There was weeping and wailing, especially among the squaws. It took about five hundred wagons to move them to their new home.

In the spring of 1845, a friend gave my father a book entitled "Hastings Work on California and Oregon". He was so interested in this account of the wonderful land beyond the Rockies that he made up his mind to move to California with his Family. Accordingly, on the l4th day of October 1845, with his family and my Mother’s Mother, an old lady, between eighty and ninety years of age and blind, his son in law, Ira Van Gordon, husband of my sister, Rebecca, several nieces and nephews, in all about twenty-five persons. We started for the frontier which was Western Missouri and Kansas. Our wagon train consisted of ten prairie schooners (covered wagons), all drawn by oxen, with the exception of my father's wagon, which had a team of horses. Six of the wagons belonged to my father who was the captain of the company.

One of the small boys fell off the wagon and a wheel passed over his body. A doctor was called and when bleeding him the doctor accidentally cut an artery. The little fellow came near bleeding to death, but after a time got well. While traveling through Illinois and Missouri, we had some difficulty in obtaining Food for the stock. People were suspicious of us, thinking we were Mormons, on account of the number in our party. The previous year they had trouble with the Mormons.

We reached Lexington, Missouri, December lst, and decided to winter. Father rented an old hotel which accommodated the entire party, and the time was spent very pleasantly. There was a large ballroom connected with the house. Lexington had quite a population of Negroes (Missouri at that time was a slave state) who with father’s permission they often came to dance for us. The dances were very entertaining to us young people. We also had our own dances and good times. Bill Richardson a member of our party, played the fiddle. Two weddings were celebrated during the winter. I was married to John Van Gordon, a brother to my sister Rebecca's husband, and my cousin Sarah was married to George Harlan.

While in Lexington a very interesting event occurred, the same Indians the government had moved west while we lived in Michigan had to be moved still farther west. The government hired my father's team to help move them, and the young men of the party drove the teams. They started on Christmas Day. The first evening out, after they had camped and were preparing supper, John Van Gordon, in pulling a pistol from his pocket it accidentally discharged and shot my cousin George Harlan, who was stooping over the fire. The ball entered his right hip and passed upward. This caused much confusion among the Indians. They were on their feet in an instant and greatly excited. But one Indian was able to speak a little English, and it was explained to him that the shooting was an accident. He called the medicine man, who traced the course of the ball and said, that with proper treatment the young man would get well. The next day a doctor came with an ambulance and took George Harlan back to Lexington. He recovered in a few weeks.

Before leaving Lexington, father hunted up his brother-in-law, Peter Wimmer, who had moved to Missouri some years before. My Aunt had died, and he married Elizabeth Jane Cloud. Father persuaded him to join our party with his family. In the spring we proceeded on our journey. Our first destination was Indian Creek in Kansas. This was the place of rendezvous for California and Oregon emigrants. We found excellent food for the stock and remained about a month, getting the animals in good condition for the long journey across the plains. Here we met quite a large number of emigrants.

April 6, 1846, was decided on as the day when all should be ready to start. There must have been five hundred wagons, most of them were drawn by oxen team. All traveled together for a few days, but soon found it very inconvenient on account of the large number of wagons in the company. If one stopped, it delayed the whole train. So it was decided to separate into smaller companies and travel several days apart. Our company consisted of the original party with the addition of the Wimmers and the Kelloggs.

Our wagons were fitted with cupboard like compartments lying flat across the bottom of the wagons, they had two doors that were kept closed. In these we carried our provisions. We had a number of cows, so we had milk most of the way. At night, when we camped, our wagons were driven so as to form a circle all around the camp. Our fires were made with flint rock, using buffalo chips and trash for fuel. Beds were made in the wagons and upon the ground. We cooked over the open fires, baking our bread in Dutch ovens, often aided with tin reflectors. Our daily fare consisted of bread, fresh meat most of the time, parched cornmeal eaten with milk, bacon, tea, coffee, etc.

The cattle were belled and allowed to graze under the watchful eyes of the keepers. One night the Indians drove off eight head of cattle, most of them with cowbells. The Indians had gotten only a short distance from the camp when the men overtook them and brought all the cattle back. Our evenings were spent quite pleasantly around the campfires in telling stories, singing and often dancing on the green prairie. Our musicians were a couple of young men who played "The Arkansas Traveler", Money Musk, and the Virginia Reel".

From the frontier, we traveled northwest along the Platt River in Nebraska until we reached Fort Laramie in Wyoming. Here we found some trappers and a small number of Indians, and were joined by the Fowlers and the Hargraves who later settled in the Napa Valley of California.

The next place of importance was Fort Bridger in western Wyoming. Here there were five hundred warriors of the Sioux Tribe, who were at war with snakes. There were no squaws or children. The Indians, large and fine looking men were in war paint. Before the emigrants reached Fort Bridger, several of the Indian Chiefs met our company and requested us not to give the Indians liquor, or firewater of any kind. These Indians were very friendly to us, we had very little trouble with them, although we heard of a party ahead of us had trouble, one man being killed with a poisoned arrow. They buried this man in the road and drove their wagons over his grave many times, but the Indians found the grave and dug up the body, scalped it, and left it lying in the road. Our company came up just as the body was being buried the second time.

At Fort Bridger, we met Hastings. He had mapped out a new route called "Hastings Cut Off". He induced our company and three others, the Pyles, Mc Donalds and Donners to take this cutoff. It went through "Weber Canyon" a pass which, for about a half a mile, seemed impractical. When we arrived at the head of the canyon, we found two companies ahead of us, the Pyles and Mc Donalds. They had halted hardly knowing what to do. After a short consultation they decided to go on. There were many willow trees and in going down the canyon, the willows were bent one way, it would have been impossible to have gone back. The wagons had to be almost lifted thru this canyon.

When Hastings, who was in the rear, came to the canyon and saw the condition of the road, he placed a notice on a tree advising the Donner party, who were also in the rear, to take the road over the mountain. They turned back and took the road recommended by Hastings. Had they followed our trail, they would have had no difficulty in passing thru "Weber Canyon". The road over the mountains was longer and as most of the men in the Donner party were unused to labor, the progress was slow, beside there was much dissension in the company. When they reached the Sierra Nevada mountains a heavy snow storm blocked their way and they were obliged to spend the winter as best they could. The following summer, I met several of the survivors, among them, Mrs Reed, who often told me of the hardships and sufferings they endured. She declared that neither she or any of her family ever ate human flesh. Their cabin was made of hides, from which she cut pieces and cooked that. She was fortunate in not losing one of her family, although one of her servants did lose his life.

On emerging from the canyon, we came out into the Salt Lake Valley, which looked beautiful to us. We took the road south of the lake, Salt Lake City not being settled at that time, and after traveling a short time came to the Salt Lake Desert. We passed many beautiful springs, but on trails, the water was found to be salty. We had to travel about ninety miles with out food or water for our stock. We called this the "long drive". The cattle became so tired and weak that we were forced to leave all of our wagons but three and to hitch all the oxen to these and thus continue our journey not knowing when we would reach water. After traveling fifteen or twenty miles more, the animals almost ran, they must have smelled water. Not long after this, we reached a running stream and found good food for our stock. We rested there for three days. Then the men took the oxen and went back after the wagons we had left behind. They found everything just as it had been left. The next place of importance was Humboldt River, where we found good water and feed.

The next place of importance was Humboldt River, then began another desert journey, from the sink of Humbolt to the Truckee River, a distance of about forty miles. That night we camped near Steamboat Springs. Here we lost quite a number of our cattle, which were poisoned from drinking alkali water. About this time our provisions were beginning to run low, so father decided to send men in advance to Sutter's Fort for provisions and to get twelve head of cattle to replace the ones that had died. Accordingly, he sent my two cousins, Jacob Harlan and Tom Smith, with a letter to Captain Sutter stating the condition of the company. When they arrived at the Fort, Captain Sutter gave them the provisions but had no cattle suitable. He gave them a letter to Captain Cordua, who lived where Marysville now is, requesting him to send the cattle. Captain Cordua selected twelve fine oxen, and also sent two Indians with cousin Jake, (Tom Smith not returning) to meet our company, which they did just before crossing the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

Our route into California was thru the Bear River country. The first stopping place was Johnson's rancho, about forty miles from Sutter's Fort. When we had our first view of the grand Sacramento Valley and saw the pastures covered with fat cattle and horses, we thought we had reached the promised land!!

On this ranch, we saw a number of Indians making bricks. Captain Cordua met us here to receive pay for the oxen he had sent us. We continued our journey, and soon came to Sutter's Fort. Here we learned that quite a number of emigrants had already arrived and had gone to different parts of the state. Sutter's Fort was a rude building where Captain Sutter lived. He employed a number of men, so Uncle Peter decided to remain there and work for him. Instead of fencing his land, Sutter had ditch dug to keep his cattle from roaming. We remained here for a short while, then went on to the Sacramento River where we camped for a few days. Father had made up his mind to go to Mission Santa Clara, so he sent my husband, John Van Gordon and my cousin Jacob Harlan, ahead to engage house rooms for our company during the winter.

There had been very heavy rains in October and the rivers and streams were so swollen that it was almost dangerous to go by land. It was decided to send the women and children by water to Alviso, the men taking the wagons by land. Captain Sutter owned a launch that made trips down the river. The accommodatio ns were very crude, each family doing their own cooking. The Captain had a number of Indian boys to row when there was not wind enough to use the sails. On board the launch was a doctor and his wife, who were going to General Vallejo ranch in Sonoma County. The Captain ran the boat up Petaluma Creek and left them. At one place he landed when the tide was high, and before he set sail again, the tide had gone and we thought the boat would capsize. In sailing into Suisun Bay, we found it very rough, there being quite a storm. Several of our party were sea sick, their first experience in that malady. At last we reached Yerba Buena as San Francisco was then called. Several of us went ashore with the Captain and a Mr Clark, (who settled in San Francisco and gave to Clarks Point its name). There were no wharfs then and the mud flats reached far out into the Bay. We went ashore in a small boat.

Yerba Buena was a village of a few shacks and one good sized building among the sand hills. At this time there were a few Mormons there, having landed from the ship "Brooklyn" in July. The Mormon women seemed delighted to see us, following us all around. We had to wait for high tide before we could. return to the launch, and when we could go the Captain was drunk. We finally reached the boat in safety. There were quite a few merchant ships and one man-of-war anchored in the bay. The merchant ship had come to trade with the Spanish, exchanging merchandise for hides and tallow.

From here we went on to Alviso which was our destination. As it had taken nine days to make the trip, the Captain was anxious to return. So he unloaded as soon as he could and started back immediately leaving us alone with only one man, my cousin, John Wooden and he was sick. We were very much alarmed, as we were in an enemy country, the United States being at war with Mexico. About sundown, we were overjoyed to see several Marines in U.S. uniforms rode up on horseback. They were from the ship Man-of-War anchored in the Bay and were having an outing. When they saw that we were Americans and alone, they offered to stay all night with us. I think these men went to Mission Santa Clara and informed the citizens of our plight, for the next morning a couple of man came with wagons and moved us all to the Mission. We found a number of families living in a large building outside the Mission proper, into which we also moved. I found my husband, John Van Gordon here, very sick. Some good Samaritan had taken him and cared for him.

It was rumored that evening that the Spaniards intended to attack the Mission, so all the families moved in for protection. We intended to move in with the rest, but my mother was to sick to be moved, so we were compelled to remain outside and would have been alone but for two men who after moving their families in, came back and spent the night with us, Dickenson and Tabor. Dickenson built the first brick house in Monterey. The next day we moved into the Mission, where we lived until the next spring. In a few days the men arrived with the wagons, thus completing the long journey of six months across the plains with out the loss of a single member of our party. We had been here a few days when most of our party were taken sick. We had what the doctor called "camp fever". In less then a week after we arrived my cousin, John Wooten's wife died and before Christmas my husband and my dear mother had passed away. They were buried where the city of Santa Clara now stands. At this time there were very few men at the Mission, most of them having this joined Fremont's Battalion and gone south. Captain Aren of Santa Clara had recruited a company of volunteers, among them were Henry C. Smith, his brother Napoleon and William Mendenhall. These young men had crossed the plains on horseback with a packtrain the previous year, 1845. They had endured great hardship, arriving at Sutter's Fort on Christmas day.

Captain Weber of San Jose (who later laid out the city of Stockton), had a company of fifty calvary. On learning that so many Spaniards were camped in the vicinity, he secured cannons and attacked them. A battle was fought in the vicinity of the Mission. The Spaniards were on horseback and whenever the cannon was fired, they would ride off, then ride and shoot and then ride off again. It was not much of a battle, but it seemed very real to all of us. One Indian was killed. The Spaniards surrendered, and Napoleon Smith received their arms. While the battle was raging the Mission bells tolled. The women and children, both Americans and Spanish, were very much excited and stood upon wagons and anything they could find to watch the battle.

Soon after, the news was received that Captain John C. Fremont with a company of men had been victorious over the Spaniards in every conflict. So the entire country was conquered. After the news of Fremont's victory there was great rejoicing. I well remember the boom of the cannon from the Man-of War in the harbor celebrating the victory. Now the Americans were free to roam at will over the country. At this time the only lucrative employment for men was ship sawing lumber in the Redwoods back of East Oakland.

While living in Mission Santa Clara I saw a baby's funeral. It was unlike I had ever seen. The mother walked ahead, carrying on her head the small casket, which was uncovered. A near relative followed, carrying the cover. Then came a group of children marching behind, with flags made of handkerchiefs. After them came a few musicians playing on guitars. They marched this way to the cemetery. They always had many candles in the death room, and also looking glasses on the tables near the wall

After my mother's death, I kept house for my father and cared for my aged Grandmother. The Mission San Jose had more opportunities for business, so we moved there in early spring. Father gathered his scattered cattle together and started a small dairy. I made butter, selling it for fifty cents per pound. We were able to secure very comfortable quarters, and spent a very enjoyable summer as there were a number of young people living there. The country was very beautiful covered with green grass and wild flowers. In the early fall my father married Mrs. Katherine Hargrave whose husband had died on the plains.

In the fall of 1847, father moved to Napa Valley. Before his departure, I was married to Henry C, Smith, who had been whip-sawing lumber in the redwoods. I took my old Grandmother to live with me in my new home. Among the families already there were those of my brother-in-law, Ira Van Gordon, Napoleon Smith and several others. My sister Rebecca passed away during the winter leaving two small boys, Jerome and George. While living here my oldest daughter Julia was born. We lived here very comfortably, the men working hard at the whip-sawing lumber, which they hauled with ox teams to the embarcadero, which was where East Oakland now is. At that time there was nothing but oak trees where the city of Oakland now stands.

In the summer of 1848, there were rumors that gold had been discovered at Coloma. At first we paid little attention to them, but my cousin Tom Smith said, he was going to find out for himself. Shortly after this, Iva Van Gordon had occasion to go to Mission San Jose on business. On his return he told of seeing men who said the discovery of gold was really true, and he intended to start for the mines next morning. I said, "Well, if you are going, I'm going too. That evening while discussing the matter, Tom Smith returned, with glowing accounts of the mines and a sample of the gold dust! In the morning we loaded our few household goods in a wagon drawn by oxen and crossed the hills of Conta Costa County to Martinez. It took us two days to reach Martinez and when we arrived there we found so many people ahead of us that we were compelled to wait ten days to cross the straits on the rickety ferry which depended on wind and tide to make the crossing to Benicia.

The day before our turn came, my husband and Andrew Broder went on the ferry to help the Captain and to secure the boat for the next morning. They started rather early while the tide was running up and a heavy wind blowing. The boat drifted into Suisum Bay which was so rough, that the boat lurched from side to side. There were ten pack horses aboard, and as the boat careened the horses ran to the sides, almost capsizing it. The men were forced to drive the horses into the Bay. I afterwards heard that only one horse reached the shore. The horses belonged to a man named Mike Foley. He had several little Indian vaqueros, they were catholic and when the boat careened they were so frightened they knelt and crossed themselves, saying a prayer. After a time the boat landed where it started from, the men reaching camp about three in the morning, wet to the skin. The next day was very pleasant, and we crossed without any difficulty. We camped there for the night. The mosquitoes were so thick we were almost eaten alive. The next morning the children were hardly recognizable, their faces were so swollen. Our next stopping place was the Sacramento River. There was no ferry large enough to take the wagons across. The men took them apart, getting them over in that way. From there we went to Mormon Island where we found a small settlement of Mormons. We arrived here on the 4th of July 1848.

Everybody was looking for gold!! While here my husband brought two buckets of sand and gravel to our camp and I panned out two dollars in fine gold, my first and only experience in washing out the precious metal.

Our next stop was at Coloma, where gold was first discovered. My Uncle Peter Wimmer and family were here. He was employed by John Marshall, who had taken a contract to build a sawmill for Captain Sutter. They had dug a millrace and turned water into it, the next morning they turned the water off. Marshall and Wimmer were walking along the millrace when they saw something shinning in the sand, they picked it up and it looked like gold!! Uncle Peter took it home, where his wife, Aunty Jane was making soap. She threw the nugget into the kettle, and lo, it came out a shining apiece of gold! Aunt Jane had been in the gold mines in Georgia and she knew it was the real thing. This is the story I was told on arriving at Coloma, Marshall and Wimmer both claimed the honor, but it really belonged to both. Marshall took the nugget to Sutter's Fort. The news soon spread, causing great excitement. A great rush was made for all the mines, men arriving by the hundreds. Marshall gave the nugget to Aunt Jane! She was very proud of it. She kept it in a buckskin bag fastened securely on her person. At one time she was offered two thousand dollars for it, but refused to take it.

We made our permanent camp at Coloma under a big oak tree. As soon as possible the men began mining, their only tools being a pick and a tin pan. Some times they took provisions remaining away for several days, and always returning with a goodly amount of gold dust. While here, my husband engaged part of the time in trading with the Indians and found it very lucrative. They had learned to mine and were anxious to buy merchandise from the traders. The dresses of the American women pleased the squaws especially, and they bought from them anything they would sell. I sold most of my dresses for one ounce of gold (sixteen dollars). My husband often made trips into the country on horseback, carrying his goods on a pack horse. On one occasion when he had his dry goods all spread out, the Indians began trying on different garments and acting very bold. He saw that they intended keeping these goods, so he began packing up, motioning and making believe that he expected the rest of the company to follow. As soon as he could repack, he started to leave. The Indians waited a short time and as they saw no one coming, followed him for some distance. On another trip, he saw a spring of water and being thirsty stooped to take a drink. As he was stooping down, he was horrified to see a number of rattle snakes, so he decided he wasn't thirsty and beat a hasty retreat!

About the first of August, my father and family arrived at Coloma, the gold fever having struck him. He brought Grandmother with him. After they arrived Grandmother and sister Nancy came to live with me. That fall the rains came very early, and we were camping in the open. We had to seek other quarters. We took Grandmother into a neighbors tent. There were no banks then, and a number of young men brought their gold dust to me for safe keeping. The gold dust was in buckskin bags, one thousand dollars in each bag. I kept these bags in a trunk and when it started raining, my sister and I carried them and threw them under Jake Harlan's bed, as he was living in one of the few houses in Coloma. We carried eighteen thousand dollars worth of gold dust in these bags. As there were no suitable accommodations for wintering here, we decided to move to San Francisco, the name being changed from Yerba Buena. We had about eight thousand dollars, the fruits of our summers work. The night before we were ready to start, just as we were preparing to retire, we heard a terrible scream and groaning in a joining camp. My husband, with other men ran over as quickly as possible and found a man by the name of Von Pifister dying. While he was asleep a miner named Pete Raymond came and woke him, asking for liquor. Von Pifister told him he had none, just arrived with a bill of drygoods, and had no liquor in his camp. Pete went to several other stores and finding them closed, came back and demanded liquor, again. As he could not get any, he became enraged and drew his knife and stabbed Von Pifister thru the heart. This foul murder caused great excitement. Pete Raymond was taken prisoner and guarded all night.

We had teams engaged to take us to Sutter's Fort the next day. The women and children were put in one wagon and Pete Raymond, bound and handcuffed, in the other. It took two days to reach the Fort. It had been reported that Pete Raymonds friends were going to rescue him, so several men went ahead with him to the Fort, where he was placed in jail with a guard. That night he escaped and joined two others and went south. We reached the Fort late that night very tired, and slept in the wagon. The next morning a terrible north wind was blowing, so we remained at the Fort all day.

While waiting here my husband sent his old father in Michigan check for a thousand dollars. The following morning was very pleasent, and just as we were getting ready to start, Grandmother was taken suddenly ill. We fixed a bed for her in the wagon and she said she was able to go, but before we had gotten out of sight of the Fort she had passed away. We went on to the Sacramento River. There we found a boat waiting to take passengers to San Francisco. As there were very few boats at that time, we were compelled to take the boat in the afternoon. So we had to bury my dear old Grandmother on the bank of the Sacramento River. We found one other grave there.

In two days, we reached San Francisco and rented a small house. The place had grown considerably since our first visit, in 1846. Soon after landing my husband made a business trip to Mission San Jose. There were no ferries then, so he had to go around the Bay through Santa Clara and San Jose.

His brother, Napoleon and family lived in the Mission. He was engaged in the mercantile business and induced my husband to enter into partnership with him. Napoleon owned a whaleboat that ran between the embarcadero at Alvarado and San Francisco. My husband returned in it. When he told me that he had entered into partnership, I felt very sorry. I hated to leave the city, for I was sure it had a future.

After purchasing a bill of goods, they were loaded on the whale boat and we all started to the embarcadero. The boat was very heavily loaded and there being very little wind, we drifted slowly across the Bay, landing in a creek just below where Hayward now is. We had to spend the night there. In the morning one of the sailors went to the Mission for a team and wagon as I would not go farther in the boat. We stayed there two days waiting for the wagon. There was no fresh water to be had so the men walked six miles to get some. The children ate some rock candy and Jerome Van Gordon nearly choked to death before we could get some water. When the wagon arrived, we went to the Mission, the men taking the goods by boat.

We secured very comfortable quarters and spent a very pleasant winter. The business proved very successful. The surrounding country was settled by wealthy Spaniards, who spent their money freely. Many days the receipts would be from $1,000 to $1,500.

The Spaniards were very interesting, owning large grants of land and living in large houses built with two stories, the second having a wide verandah across the front. These homes had very little furniture, but were neat and clean. The wealthier class had a number of Indian servants. It was not uncommon to see Spanish people being waited upon by a great number of Indian children. The Indians were locked up at all times when they were not actually under the supervision of the Spaniards. Their food was chili-con carne, a dried beef called "jerky". It was fresh meat cut in long strips and hung over a line to dry, (very palatable) and frijoles and tortillas. About once a year, the Spaniards held a big fiesta at the Mission. For days they came from far and near, some in big two wheeled cars drawn by oxen, bringing their trunks filled with fine clothes. The Spanish senorities were very fond of dress. Others came on horse back. The senoritas were beautiful dancers, I well remember seeing one of them waltz with a glass of water on her head. These fiestas lasted for a week. This was good time for the young men most of whom had fine horses to how off their feats and horsemanship. They were great lovers of horses, and their jingling spurs and fine saddles made a wonderful showing. On raining days they would ride their horses right into our store at Mission San Jose, although there were four or five doorsteps. There would be two or three in the store at one time. The Spaniards very seldom got off their horses. The Spanish families owning different grants located in Alameda County at that time were Peraltas owning where the city of Oakland now stands, the Estudillos, at San Leandro, the W. Castros at Hayward, J. Vallejo at Niles. Higuaras at Warm Springs, the Bernals et Pleasanton. Most of them owned large herds of cattle that ran at will over the vales, there were no fences, each grant having its own particular brand.

Once a year they held a big rodeo that lasted for days, when each grant marked and branded its young calves. I attended one of these big rodeos. There was a bull fight, two of our vaqueros, Francesco who was quite a famous toreador, and Pedro, being among those engaged.

Wash day was quite an event. The Warm Springs (Agua Calienta) were about two miles away. The Spanish women with Indian servants, came from all over the country, bringing their clothes and staying several days. They used a smooth board and a soap root called amole, which grew like an onion and made lather like soap. It was very cleaning and made the clothes look very white. When washing, the washers stood in a long box like trough with warm water running in it all the time. In this way they would wash and chat all day, enjoying it very much. We American women often went two, taking an Indian to help. Sundays in the Mission were very noisy and disagreeable. The Indians under the influence of liquor were very quarrelsome. My husband was appointed the first Alcade or justice of the peace by Gov. Riley, Military Governor of California. He could speak Spanish very fluently and the Spaniards came to him with their difficulties.

My husband and his brother remained in partnership for a couple of years, then his brother sold his interest to E.L. Beard and moved to Martinez. Beard and my husband continued in business for a short time. My husband purchased tract of land two and a half miles from the Mission, and also 800 acres on the Arroy De Alameda, where he afterwards laid out and named the town of Alverado. My second daughter, Emma was born in Mission San Jose. Nancy my sister married Lucien B. Huff in 1849.

I grew very tired of living there, so we built a house on the rancho, near the Mission and moved there. We engaged in farming and stock raising. In the summer of 1850, my father who was living in Mission San Jose died from typhoid fever the age of forty-eight. Nancy's daughter, Dena, was born at the Mission in May 1850. The Mission Indians had a rancherlia on our rancho and we often watched them performing their religious ceremonies. They had a large room dug in the ground and covered with brush and earth, with one door to enter. This place was called a sweet house. The Indians decorated themselves with feathers and all sorts of ridiculous costumes. A fire was built in the center of the room and the Indians danced around it. When one made a trip in those days from Oakland to San Jose, one would see millions of cattle and quite a lot of wheat which was raised by the Indians.

Cholera broke out among the Indians, and a number of them died. Their crying and howling and moaning were almost unbearable. My brother Joel, was obliged to take his family and go away where they could not hear the dreadful noise. When I found out that he was going, I had our men take me and my family along. I was very much afraid of the disease. My husband was away at the time. When he returned and found us gone, he immediately had all the Indians moved to the Alisal, located where Pleasanton now is.

In the spring of 1851, my husband took a trip east to visit relatives in his old home town of St. Joseph, Michigan, traveling by the Isthmus of Panama. He was gone about five months and returned with a company of nineteen from Michigan and Indiana. They often spoke of their experiences. The trip made on muleback, in the rainy season.

Our men raised a great many vegetables, potatoes, etc. They brought such high prices we decided to go into the business more extensively. Others did the same and the consequence was that the next year thousands of bags of potatoes rotted in the warehouses in San Francisco, on the ground also. We lost thousands of dollars.

My husband was elected to the legislature in 1852 from Santa Clara County and organized Alameda County out of portions of Contra Costa and Santa Clara Counties. He made Alvarado the county seat. On one of his trips to the legislature, at Benicia, the capital, I accompanied him. We left Alvarado on the steamer Union, and were about half way, when the captain saw signals of distress from a steamer in the bay, "Jenny Lind". The end of the boiler had blown out and scalded all the first class passengers who were at dinner. The steamer was afterwards rebuilt and called the San Jose. It ran between Oakland and San Francisco.

While living on the ranch near Mission San Jose my third child was born. In 1853, we moved to Alvarado where my husband again engaged in mercantile business. He also built two warehouses there, the framework having come from the Horn. Sternwheelers and schooners came up as far as the town. In l855, my husband was elected one of the first supervisor of Alameda County, from Washington township. November 2, 1854, my fourth child, Charles Fremont was born. Nancy my sister died in 1856.

In the spring of 1861, we moved to Nevada. Our first stopping place was Carson City, then moved to Virginia City where we rented a newly built hotel and named it the "American Exchange". Virginia City is located on the steep side of Mount Davidson. The population must have been ten thousand, increasing daily. The mountain side was very steep, slanting like the roof of a house. The streets were like terraces. The hotel was on a level with the street in front and the rear was many feet above ground. The mines ran tunnels and shafts in every direction under the street. There were many quartz mills, with noisy stamps and whistles, it was a lively town. The climate was disagreeable, at times the wind being very strong. We remained about a year and then went to Silver City where my husband engaged in mining with poor success. He then built a small hotel named the "Geneva House", on some government land about five miles from Silver City, on the street road to Carson City. The overland stages stopped daily to water their horses. The moment a stage arrived, men were ready with buckets of water, in a twinkling they were through. The driver drew on his buckskin gauntlets, jumped to his seat, cracked his whip, and the stage was off.

Every day the pony express went by carrying letters from St. Joseph, Missouri to Sacramento, California. The rider would always go by on the run, never stopping for anything until he came to the station to change horses. Here two men stood, holding a fresh impatient horse. The transfer was made as quickly as possible and away he flew. There were dozens of large prairie schooners, freight wagons drawn by twelve and fourteen mule teams by one rein, called a jerk line. The leaders had strings of bells fastened on them. These wagons were filled with freight for Silver City, Gold Hill and Virginia City. There was also a fast freight line that went daily. We lived here three years. My husband entered into partnership with two men. They laid out the city of Como, Nevada, a quartz mill was built, but the mines did not prove valuable. My husband had a stroke of paralysis and we were obliged to return to California in the fall of 1865. We went to East Oakland, where we owned a house and lot. We lived there a year, my children attended school.

In the spring of 1866, the Southern Pacific railroad began extending a road thru Niles Canyon, so we moved there and opened a boarding house for the foremen of the different gangs of Chinamen who were working on the road. A big tree grew right up thru the dinning room table; it shaded the house so we hated to cut it down, so we built around it. From there we moved to my brother, Joel's ranch in San Ramon Valley. We engaged in farming for about two years. We then purchased a farm of 160 acres in Livermore Valley. We lived there about eight years farming and raising stock.

The school house was moved from Dublin road into town. Livermore College was built by W.B. Kingsbury. My children attended the college for several years, riding back and forth on horseback. Wednesday morning of October 21, 1868 at 8:00 o'clock, occurred the heaviest earth quake I have ever experienced. I was out in the back yard where the water trough filled with water rocked from side to side like a cradle.

On October 7, 1875, my daughter Julia was married to J.F. Hargrave, who crossed the plains at the age of two and a half years old. My daughter Emma was a teacher in Livermore schools for many years. In the fall of 1875 we moved to the town of Livermore, my sons farming the ranch.

My husband was taken very sick and on November 24,1875, he passed away. He was buried at Oak Knoll. Soon after that, we purchased land on L St. and built a house. We lived there for many years taking part in all the activities of the town.,

Mary Harlan Smith died in 1922 at the age of 96 years.

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