On February 8, 1820 William Tecumseh Sherman was born in Lancaster Ohio. Sadly when ‘Cump’ was nine his father died. His mother, Mary could never dream of caring for all of the children (there were 11 in all) and the … Continue reading
For San Franciscans April 18, 1906 was indeed a day to remember. Why? In the early hours of Wednesday an earthquake struck. It lasted approximately a minute, but that was enough time to cause considerable damage. Chimneys were knocked over, bricks showered down burying humanity, horses and everything else that happened to be in the streets. Wooden homes were shaken with such a ferocity that most were only heaps of wood, when all was said and done. At the time of the quake most San Franciscans were still asleep, causing numerous people to be trapped in the rubble of their homes. Fred Hewitt, who was outdoors when the quake struck, described the second shock as being worse than the first.
The first portion of that shock was just a mild forerunning of what was to follow. The pause in the action of the earth’s surface couldn’t have been more than a fraction of a second. It was sufficient, however, to allow me to collect myself. In the center of two streets rose to my feet. Then came the second and more terrific crash. The street beds heaved in frightful fashion. The earth rocked and then came the blow that wrecked San Francisco from the bay shore to the Ocean Beach and from the Golden Gate to the end of the peninsula.
Before the quake animals became jumpy, the only warning anyone had that something was amiss. Not long before San Francisco was shaken to its very core, it was reported that horses had become upset. As evidenced by the animals during the 2004 tsunami, they appear to have a sixth sense.
Buildings sitting on former swamps sank before collapsing. The ground had turned into ‘liquid’ due to soil liquefaction. The Valencia St. Hotel was a prime example. The four story hotel sank three levels, killing the majority of the hotel residents. Aftershocks continued to, if possible, further wreck the city. Amidst the quakes, those who were brave enough and able, sought to help survivors out of the wreckage. James Hooper, who had been digging through debris, gave up looking for the dead when a boy questioned why they were even digging for “those that’s dead”.
His remark struck us all as being profoundly true, that without another word we all quit.
Almost instantly fires broke out and to make things worse so many of the water mains were broken. It would be next to impossible to put the quickly growing fires out, but still the firemen would persist. Soon the blaze was out of control. Brigadier General Frederick Fuston took command of the situation when he believed, and most likely rightly so, that the local law enforcement would not be able to control the situation. Chaos would break loose, it was just a matter of time. No matter how correct Fuston was in what he was doing, without orders from President Roosevelt it was still illegal.
Fuston ordered troops to the Hall of Justice, where they reported to Mayor Eugene Schmitz. Schmitz also had a hand in illegal doings. His term had so far been riddled with corruption. In fact in a year he would be sitting in jail, guilty of extortion. In the mean time he ordered troops to kill looters or those “in the commission of any other crime”.
Eugene Schmitz: The Federal Troops, the members of the Regular Police Force, and all Special Police Officers have been authorized by me to KILL any and all persons engaged in Looting or the commission of Any Other Crime. I have directed all the Gas and Electric Lighting Co.’s not to turn on Gas or Electricity until I order them to do so. You may therefore expect the city to remain in darkness for an indefinite time. I request all citizens to remain at home from darkness until daylight every night until order is restored. I WARN all Citizens of the danger of fire from Damaged or Destroyed Chimneys, Broken or Leaking Gas Pipes or Fixtures, or any like cause.
He also had them enforce a ban on the sale of alcohol.
Tragically, Schmitz’s orders resulted in the deaths of many innocent people. Soldiers, militia and other irregulars shot people, merely assuming those people were looters or some other type of criminal. It didn’t matter if a person was returning to his home to salvage a few things. Both men and women were killed, other times they were beaten unmercifully. In another incident, soldiers would not allow volunteers for the fire department to pass a fire line and aid the firemen on the other side. It wasn’t until a “prolonged argument” that the volunteers were able to pass. That is not to say all of the soldiers were like that. In fact there are accounts that applaud the help that the soldiers rendered in that horrible time. A flag collector, resigning his flags to their fate, raised the Star and Stripes outside of his home, as the uncontrollable blaze approached. A group of soldiers were apparently so overcome with patriotism that they helped to save the house.
Firefighters tried using firebreaks on the conflagration, since water was so scarce. Unfortunately they ended up spreading the fire, due to their lack of knowledge on the use of dynamite. Later those who were more experienced would do effective work with the explosives. By this time a water source had been discovered that helped put out the small fires that were started by the explosives. James Stetson reported on one way of creating firebreaks.
A soldier would, with a vessel…containing some flammable stuff, enter the house, climb to the second floor, go to the front window, open it, pull down the shade and curtains, and set fire to the contents of his dish. In a short time the shades and curtains would be in a blaze.
At last when firefighters were able to hold the monstrous fire at bay, it crossed a firebreak. In the bay US Navy tug boats struggled to save the South Pacific Railroad yard by pumping water from the bay. It was a success. Later they would, with the local fire department, bring the fire again under control. This time to save the waterfront.
Amidst the fire a few brave souls remained behind. Determined employees saved the Post Office. A mix of employees and soldiers were able to rescue the US Mint from destruction. Those who could do nothing further abandoned their homes, forcefully or voluntarily, and fled by train or ferry. Others headed for quickly forming refugee camps. William Keller was forced by soldiers to evacuate his mill, which may or may not have been saved with effort, incurring a loss of $20,000. More than once refugees would be forced to relocate as the fire ‘chased’ them. On the 20th the fire claimed another area that had been considered safe from the fire’s clutches. That same day Schmitz, not knowing the fire had spread, sent a telegram to the War Department telling them that the fire was under control. In the Dunkirk of San Francisco, the USS Chicago and a flotilla of other vessels evacuated about 20,000 people, as the fire spread to their homes. The South Pacific Railroad carried refugees out of harms way, free of charge.
A mixed force of the fire department and civilians, having located another water source and with the aid of firebreaks, were able to hold the fire back. Finally on the Saturday the ‘war’ had ended. In the end over 200,000 people were homeless. The Red Cross was given funds by the federal government to aid the stricken city. They provided food clothing and the like for the survivors. The amount of deaths ranged anywhere from 700 to 3000. They city was eventually rebuilt and became a thriving city of commerce once again. People built small ‘shacks’, to live in until they could get back on their feet. As time passed the shacks were replaced with real homes.
Source: Kurzman, Dan. Disaster!; Smith, Dennis. San Francisco is Burning.
“The mail must go through!” That was their motto and for the most part that’s the way things were. Pony Express riders and station managers braved not only tough weather, but also unfriendly Indians and bandits. So how did the Pony Express come about? Why was it so short lived, having only lasted a year and a half? And even better yet…What was the Pony Express?!
In 1848 the discovery of gold in California brought thousands to the West Coast. People flocked from all over the world, eager to make their fortune. But postal service was primitive. One could send a letter via stagecoach, ship or by stranger (with the latter you would cross your fingers and hope the letter got to its destination). By coach the letter would usually take about a month to get the receiver. Coaches traveled from Missouri to California and vise versa, on a nearly 1800 mile trek through the South and southwestern territories. Many argued that a northern route would be quicker, but Southern senators responded by saying the mountains were impassable in the winter. Still the mail was moving.
William Russell was the brains behind the Pony Express. He managed to convince his partners, Alexander Majors and William Waddell to go through with the idea, although frankly they thought it impossible. Much of the public thought him insane. How was one to get the mail from Missouri to California in 10 days? Despite criticism Russell, as he himself stated, was determined to create the Pony Express. Although he was unable to secure a government subsidy, the trio established the Pony Express.
They began building relay stations, set up at 15 miles apart, from St. Joseph, MO to Sacramento, CA. Stations were mostly hastily built . Some were wood, others sod or adobes. Occasionally a cave also served as a station. At each station a rider would receive a fresh mount and carry the mail for approximately 100 miles before being relieved by another rider. It continued in this manner until the Eastbound mail arrived east and the Westbound mail arrived west (for obvious reasons of course).
The riders are mostly youths, mounted upon active and lithe Indian nags. They ride 100 miles at a time—about eight per hour—with four changes of horses, and return to their stations the next day.
Russell purchased 500 horses, choosing only the very best. Finally everything was in place and it was time to start hiring staff. Prospective employees applied for jobs at Patee House in St. Joseph. Because of constant dangers Russell, Majors and Waddell preferred orphans for their riders. In exchange for their services they received $100 to $120 a month plus room and board. A fervent Christian, Alexander Majors required all of his employees to take the following oath:
I, … , do hereby swear, before the Great and Living God, that during my engagement, and while I am an employee of Russell, Majors, and Waddell, I will, under no circumstances, use profane language, that I will drink no intoxicating liquors, that I will not quarrel or fight with any other employee of the firm, and that in every respect I will conduct myself honestly, be faithful to my duties, and so direct all my acts as to win the confidence of my employers, so help me God.
In addition to that each employee was provided with a Bible.
A former sailor William Richardson is believed to have been the Pony Express’ first rider.The Pony Express mail arrived late causing a couple of hours delay. Finally Richardson was off. The mochilla, used to carry the mail in, he had carried out of St. Joseph arrived in Sacramento on April 14th where the rider, William Hamilton, was received with much fanfare. After a celebration in San Fransisco the mail was brought to Sacramento via the Antelope. William Hamilton waited in the rain as the mail was locked away in his mochilla by a Pony Express representative. Mounting up on his horse, he was soon off. The Eastbound run would prove troublesome for most riders, as treacherous weather chased riders. Hamilton’s relay rider, Warren Upson, was caught in a blizzard. All along the trail riders experienced some obstacle that caused the mail to fall far behind schedule. Fortunately, other riders were able to makeup for lost time. On April 13th the Eastbound mail arrived in St. Joseph, carried by William Richardson. Skeptics were forced to eat their words as the popular Pony Express continued the runs.
Pony Express Rider Jack Keetly:We rode into the office and put on the mail, which consisted of four small leather sacks six by twelve inches, fastened on to a square macheir which was put over the saddle. The sacks were locked with little brass locks much like one sees to-day on dog collars, and the sacks were sewed to the macheir, one in front and one behind each leg of the rider. When the mail was put on, and the rider mounted on his race horse, which was always used out of St. Joe to the Troy Station, nine miles from Ellwood, he bounded out of the office door and down the hill at full speed, when the cannon was fired again to let the boat know that the pony had started, and it was then that all St. Joe, great and small, were on the sidewalks to see the pony go by, and particularly so on the route that they knew the pony was sure to take.
While much of the living conditions were rather primitive at stations, ponies got the ‘royal treatment’. Riders were continuously putting their lives in danger. Rider Nick Wilson tried to save his pony after Paiutes made off with it. Wilson was shot, having an arrow firmly embedded in his forehead. When he was found he was given up for dead and his friends left to alert others of the Paiute raids. Later, when they returned, they found Wilson was still alive, although barely. He went on to live, but he would wear a hat the rest of his life to hide the scar, a symbol of the dangers the riders braved.
When three drifters, who had recently turned up at Williams Station, kidnapped three Paiute women trouble began to brew. One of the women got away to tell the chief that his wife had been kidnapped. The chief demanded the drifters free the women, but they flatly refused, provoking the chief’s wrath. The chief enlisted the aid of another chief who hated white. When all was said and done the three drifters as well as two of the stations hands were dead. The station manger J.O. Williams, who had been away, found the station burned to the ground, his two brothers dead (they were the station hands) and the horses stolen. Following this a militia was formed and a battle ensued between the Paiutes and whites. At Buckland’s Station Bob Haslam’s relay rider flatly refused to go through having heard of the Williams Station Massacre. Bob Haslam had just finished his run, but agreed to take the mochilla through. Having delivered the mail he headed back to Buckland’s. On the way he found the Cold Spring’s Station in ruins and the manager dead. The Indians had stolen the horses and he was forced to push on without having a fresh mount.
Bob Haslam: I watered my horse — having ridden him thirty miles on time, he was pretty tired — and started for Sand Springs, thirty-seven miles away. It was growing dark, and my road lay through heavy sage-brush, high enough in some places to conceal a horse. I kept a bright lookout, and closely watched every motion of my poor horse’s ears, which is a signal for danger in an Indian country. I was prepared for a fight, but the stillness of the night and the howling of the wolves and coyotes made cold chills run through me at times, but I reached Sand Springs in safety and reported what had happened.
He did finally make it to back to Buckland’s, having made a round trip of 380 miles. This is the longest trip on record. For his bravery he received a $100 bonus. Because of the frequent attacks the Pony Express was forced to stop sending the mail through from May to June in 1860. A monumental achievement by the Pony Express was the delivery of Abraham Lincoln’s inaugural speech, which the Express delivered to the West Coast.
Russell, Majors and Waddell were becoming financially strapped. Already the Indians troubles had cost them $75,000. To make things worse Russell was caught in a business scandal. This led to his jailing in 1860 and resignation of the partnership in 1861. Along with mounting debts and the advent of the telegraph on the sparse frontier, the Pony Express was forced to shut down. Wells Fargo advertised the Pony Express’ discontinuation on October 26, 1861. On November 20, 1861 the last mochilla was turned in. The presence was missed immensely by many. In a California paper it was stated:
A fast and faithful friend has the pony been to our far off state. Summer and winter, storm and shine, day and night, he has traveled like a weaver’s shuttle back and forth ’till now his work is done. Goodbye, Pony! You have served us well.