Santa Barbara-Ventura-San Luis Obispo County CA Archives History - Books .....Dana On Santa Barbara 1891 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/ca/cafiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Joy Fisher sdgenweb@yahoo.com February 7, 2007, 7:39 pm Book Title: A Memorial And Biographical History Of The Counties Of Santa Barbara, Ventura, And San Luis Obispo DANA ON SANTA BARBABA. The bay, as it was commonly called, the canal [channel] of Santa Barbara, is very large, being formed by the main land on one side [between Point Concepcion on the north and Point San Buenaventura on the south], which here bends like a crescent, and by three large islands opposite to it and at a distance of some twenty miles. These points are just sufficient to give it the name of a bay, while at the same time it is so large and so much exposed to the southeast and northwest winds that it is little better than an open roadstead; and the whole swell of the Pacific Ocean rolls in here before a southeaster, and breaks with so heavy a surf in the shallow waters that it is highly dangerous to lie in near to the shore during the southeaster season, that is, between the months of November and April. Two points run out as the horns of the cresent, one of which, that to the westward, is low and sandy, and that to which vessels are obliged to give a wide berth when running out for a southeaster; the other is high, bold, and well-wooded. In the middle of this crescent, directly opposite the anchoring ground, lies the Mission and town of Santa Barbara, on a low plain, but little above the level of the sea, covered with grass, though entirely without trees, and surrounded on three sides by an amphitheater of mountains, which start off to a distance of fifteen to twenty miles. The Mission stands a little back of the town, and is a large building, or rather collection of buildings, in the center of which is a high tower with a belfry of five bells. The town lies a little nearer to the beach-about half a mile from it-and is composed of one-story houses, built of sun-baked clay or adobe, some of them whitewashed, with red tiles on the roofs. I should judge that there were about a hundred of them; and in the midst of them stands the presidio, or fort, built of the same material and apparently but little stronger. The town is finely situated, with a bay in front and amphitheater of hills behind. The only thing that diminishes its beauty is that the hills have no large trees upon them, they having been all burnt by a great fire which swept them off about a dozen years ago, and they have not grown again. The fire was described to me by an inhabitant as having been a very terrible and magnificent sight. The air of the valley was so heated that the people were obliged to leave town and take up their quarters for several days upon the beach. * * * We lay at a distance of three miles from the beach, and the town was nearly a mile farther, so that we saw little or nothing of it. * * * We were pulled ashore in the boat, and took our way for the town. There everything wore the appearance of a holiday. The people were dressed in their best, the men riding about among the houses, and the women sitting on carpets before the doors. Under the piazza of a pulperia two men were seated, decked out with knots of ribbons and bouquets, and playing the violin and the Spanish guitar. These are the only instruments, with the exception of the drums and trumpets at Monterey, that I ever heard in California, and I suspect they play upon no others, for at a great fandango, at which I was afterward present, and where they mustered all the music they could find, there were three violins and two guitars and no other instruments. Inquiring for an American who, we had been told, had married in the place, and kept a shop, we were directed to a long, low building, at the end of which was a door with a sign over it, in Spanish. Entering the shop we found no one in it, and the whole had an empty, deserted air. In a few minutes the man made his appearance and apologized for having nothing to entertain us with, saying that he had had a fandango at his house the night before, and the people had eaten and drank up everything. "O, yes!" said I, "Easter holidays!" "No," said he, with a singular expression on his face, "I had a little daughter die the other day, and that's the custom of the country." At this I felt somewhat awkwardly, not knowing what to say, and whether to offer consolation or not, and was beginning to retire, when he opened a side door, and told us to walk in. Here I was no less astonished for I found a large room, filled with young girls, from three or four years old up to fifteen of sixteen, dressed all in white, with wreaths of flowers on their heads, and bouquets in their hands. Following our conductor among these girls, who were playing about in high spirits, we came to a table at the end of the room, covered with a white cloth, on which lay a coffin about three feet long, with the body of his child. The coffin was covered with white cloth and lined with white satin, and was strewn with flowers. Through an open door we saw in another room a few elderly people in common dress, while the benches and tables, thrown up in a corner, and the stained walls, gave evidences of the last night's "high go." Feeling like Garrick, between tragedy and comedy, an uncertainty of purpose, I asked the man when the funeral would take place; and, being told that it would move toward the Mission in about an hour, took my leave. To pass away the time, we took horses and rode to the beach. * * * From the beach we returned to the town, and finding that the funeral pro cession had moved, rode on and overtook it, about half way up to the Mission. Here was as peculiar a sight as we had seen before in the house, the one looking as much like a funeral procession as the other did like a house of mourning. The little coffin was borne by eight girls who were continually relieved by others running forward from the procession and taking their places. Behind it came a straggling company of girls, dressed, as before, in white and flowers, and including, I should judge by their numbers, all the girls between five and fifteen in the place. They played along the way, frequently stopping and running altogether to talk to some one, or to pick up a flower, and then running on again to overtake the coffin. There were a few elderly women in common colors, and a herd of young men and boys, some on foot and others mounted, following them, or rode or walked by their side, frequently interrupting them by jokes and questions. But the most singular thing of all was that two men walked, one on each side of the coffin, carrying muskets in their hands, which they continually loaded and fired into the air. Whether this was to keep off the evil spirits or no I do not know. It was the only interpretation that I could put upon it. As we drew near the Mission, we saw the great gate thrown open, and the padre standing on the steps with a crucifix in his hand. The Mission is a large and deserted-looking place, the out-buildings going to ruin, and everything giving one the impression of decayed grandeur. A large stone fountain threw out pure water from four mouths into a basin before the church door; and we were on the point of riding up to let our horses drink when it occurred to us that it might be consecrated, and we forbore. Just at this moment the bells set up their harsh, discordant clangor, and the procession moved into the court. I wished to follow and see the ceremony, but the horse of one of my companions had become frightened and was tearing off toward the town. * * * and I was obliged to leave the ceremony and ride after him. A very apposite phase is illustrated by the following description: Great preparations were now being made on shore for the marriage of our agent, who was to marry Dona Anita de la Guerra y Noriega y Carrillo, youngest daughter of Don Antonio Noriega, the grandee of the place, and the head of the first family in California. Our steward was ashore three days making pastry and cake, and some of the best of our stores were sent off with him. On the day appointed for the wedding we took the Captain ashore in a gig, and had orders to come for him at night, with leave to go up to the house and see the fandango. At 10 o'clock the bride went up with her sister to the confessional, dressed in black. Nearly an hour intervened when the great doors of the Mission church opened, the bells rang out a loud discordant peal, and the bride, dressed in complete white, came out of the church with the bridegroom, followed by a long procession. Just as she stepped from the church door, a small white cloud issued from the bows of our ship, which was full in sight, the loud report echoed among the hills and over the bay, and instantly the ship was dressed in flags and pennants from stem to stern. Twenty-three guns followed in regular succession, with intervals of fifteen seconds between, when the cloud blew off and our ship lay dressed in colors all day. At sundown another salute of the same number of guns was fired, and all the flags run down. The bride's father's house was the principal one in the place, with a large court in front upon which a tent was built, capable of containing several hundred people. Going in, we found nearly all the people of the town-men, women and children-collected and I crowded together, leaving barely room for the dancers; for on these occasions no invitations are given, but everyone is expected to come, though there is always a private entertainment within the house for particular friends. The old women sat down in rows, clapping their hands to the music, and applauding the young ones. The music was lively, and among the tunes we recognized several of our popular airs, which we, no doubt, have taken from the Spanish. In the dancing I was much disappointed. The women stood upright with their hands down by their sides, their eyes fixed upon the ground before them, and slid about without any perceptible means of motion; for their feet were invisible, the hem of their dresses forming a circle about them, reaching to the ground. They looked as grave as if going through some religious ceremony, their faces as little excited as their limbs, and, on the whole, instead of the spirited, fascinating Spanish dances which I had expected, I found the California fandango, on the part of the women at least, a lifeless affair. The men did better. They danced with grace and-spirit, moving in circles around their nearly stationary partners, and showing their figures to advantage. A great deal was said about our friend Don Juan Bandini, and when he did appear, which was toward the close of the evening, he certainly gave us the most graceful dancing that I had ever seen. He was dressed in white pantaloons, neatly made, a short I jacket of dark silk, gaily figured, white stockings and thin morocco slippers upon his very small feet. His slight and graceful figure was well adapted to dancing, and he moved about with the grace and daintiness of a young fawn. He was loudly applauded, and danced frequently toward the close of the evening. After the supper the waltzing began, which was confined to a very few of the "gente de razon," and was considered a high accomplishment and a mark of aristocracy. Here, too, Don Juan figured greatly, waltzing with the sister of the bride (Dona Angustias, a handsome woman and a general favorite) in a variety of beautiful figures, which lasted as much as half an hour, no one else taking the floor. They were repeatedly and loudly applauded, the old men and women jumping off their seats in admiration, and the young people waving their hats and handkerchiefs. The great amusement of the evening-owing to its being the carnival-was the breaking of eggs filled with cologne or other essences upon the heads of the company. The women bring a great number of these secretly about them, and the amusement is to break one secretly upon the head of a gentleman when his back is turned. He is bound in gallantry to find out the lady and return the compliment, though it must not be done if the person sees you. A tall, stately Don, with immense gray whiskers, and a look of great importance, was standing before me, when I felt a hand upon my shoulder, and, turning round, saw Dona Angustias (whom we all knew, as she had been up to Monterey and down again in the Alert), with her finger upon her lip, motioning me gently aside. I stepped back a little, when she went up behind the Don and with one hand knocked off his huge sombrero and at the same instant with the other broke the egg upon his head, and, springing behind me, was out of sight in a moment. The Don turned slowly around, the cologne running down his face and over his clothes and a loud laugh breaking out from every quarter. A great many such tricks were played, and many a war of sharp maneuvering was carried on between couples of the younger people, and at every successful exploit a general laugh was raised. Another of their games I was for some time at a loss about. A pretty young girl was dancing, named -after what would appear to us an almost sacrilegious custom of the country-Espiritu Santo, when a young man went behind her and placed his hat directly upon her head, letting it fall down over her eyes, and sprang back among the crowd. She danced for some time with the hat on, when she threw it off, which called forth a general shout, and the young man was obliged to go out upon the floor and pick it up. I soon began to suspect the meaning of the thing, and was afterward told that it was a compliment, and an offer to become the lady's gallant for the rest of the evening, and to wait upon her home * * * These fandangos generally lasted three days. The next day two of us were sent up town and took care to come back by way of Senor Noriega's and take a look into the booth. The musicians were again there upon their platform, scraping and twanging away, and a few people, apparently of the lower classes, were dancing. The dancing is kept up at intervals throughout the day, but the crowd, the spirit, and the elite, come at night. The next night, which was the last, we went ashore in the same manner, until we got almost tired of the monotonous twang of the instruments, the drawling sounds which the women kept up as an accompaniment, and the slapping of the hands in time with the music in place of castanets. We heard some talk about "caballos" and "carrera," and seeing the people streaming off in one direction, we followed, and came upon a level piece of ground just outside of the town, which was used as a race-course. Here the crowd soon became thick again, the ground was marked off, the judges stationed, and the horses led up to one end. Two fine-looking old gentlemen-Don Carlos and Don Domingo, so-called-held the stakes, and all was now ready. We waited some time, during which we could just see the horses, twisting aound [sic] and turning, until at length there was a shout along the lines and on they came, heads stretched out and eyes starting, working all over, both man and beast. The steeds came by us like a couple of chain-shot, neck and neck, and now we could see nothing but their backs and their hind hoofs flying through the air. As fast as the horses passed, the crowd broke up behind them and ran to the goal. When we got there we found the horses returning on a slow walk, having run far beyond the mark, and heard that the long bony one had come in head and shoulders before the other. The riders were light-built men, had handkerchiefs tied around their heads, and were bare-armed and bare-legged. The horses were noble-looking beasts, not so sleek and combed as our Boston stable horses, but with fine limbs and spirited eyes. Additional Comments: Extracted from: A MEMORIAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL HISTORY OF THE COUNTIES OF Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo and Ventura, California Illustrated Containing a History of this Important Section of the Pacific Coast from the Earliest Period of its Occupancy to the Present Time, together with Glimpses of its Prospective Future; with Profuse illustrations of its Beautiful Scenery, Full-Page Steel Portraits of its most Eminent Men, and Biographical Mention of many of its Pioneers and also of Prominent Citizens of to-day, BY MRS. YDA ADDIS STORKE. "A people that take no pride in the noble achievements of remote ancestors -will never achieve anything worthy to he remembered with pride by remote descendants."—Macaulay. THE LEWIS PUBLISHING COMPANY. 1891. Barlow-Sinclair Printing Co., Chicago. File at: http://files.usgwarchives.net/ca/santabarbara/history/1891/amemoria/danaonsa222gms.txt This file has been created by a form at http://www.genrecords.org/cafiles/ File size: 17.0 Kb