of the community. Every article of property had to be disposed of, and something like an equal distribution among all the people be made, each bequest being accompanied by some very pointed and witty reason for its donation. Among a more sensitive people, some of these reasons would be regarded as libelous. The will, when completed and properly attested, was posted on a bulletin board near the effigy, and the night's work was performed. As soon as sufficiently light, the entire population, men, women and children, congregated to see Judas and his wealth, and to hear read, and discuss the merits of his will, and appropriateness of its provisions. Nothing else was talked of; nothing else was thought of until the church bell summoned them to mass, after which a wild, unbroken mare was procured, on the back of which Judas was firmly strapped; a string of fire-crackers was then tied to her tail, they were lighted, she was turned loose, and the ultimate fate of the figurative Judas was not unlike that which we are told occurred to his perfidious prototype.

The native Californians were a temperate people, intoxication being almost unknown. Wines and liquors existed in the country, but were sparingly used. In a saloon, when a "bit's worth" was called for, the decanter was not handed to the customer, as is now the case, but was invariably measured out, and if the liquor was a potent spirit, in a very small dose; while a "bit's worth" was a treat for a considerable company, the glass being passed around from one to the other, each taking a sip. The following amusing episode in this regard, which occurred in 1847, may find a place in this chapter. Juan Soto, an old, gray-headed man, and a great friend to the Americans-for every one who spoke English was an American to him-had come into possession of a “bit," and being a generous, whole-souled man, he desired to treat five or six of his friends and neighbors. To this end he got them together, marched them to Weber's store in the Pueblo de San José, and there meeting, who, though hailing from the Emerald Isle, passed for an American, invited him to join in the symposium. The old Spaniard placed his "bit" upon the counter with considerable êclat, and called for its value in wine, which was duly measured out. As a mark of superior respect he first handed it to

who, wag that

he was, swallowed the entire contents, and waited the dénoument with keen relish. Soto and his friends looked at each other in blank amazement, when there burst out a tirade in their native tongue, the choice expressions in which may be more readily imagined than described.

There was one vice that was common to nearly all of these people, and which eventually caused their ruin, namely, a love of gambling. Their favorite game was monté, probably the first of all banking games. So passionately were they addicted to this, that on Sunday, around the church, while the women were inside and the priest at the altar, crowds of men would have their blankets spread upon the ground with their cards and money, playing their favorite

game of monte. They entertained no idea that it was a sin, nor that there was anything in it derogatory to their character as good Christians. This predilection was early discovered and turned to account by the Americans, who soon established banks, and carried on games for their amusement especially. The passion soon became so developed that they would bet and lose their horses and cattle, while, to procure money to gratify this disposition, they would borrow from Americans at the rate of twelve and a half per cent. per day; mortgaging and selling their lands and stock, yea, even their wives' clothing, so that their purpose should be gratified, and many unprincipled Westerns of those days enriched themselves in this manner at the expense of those poor creatures.

Before leaving this people, mention should be made of their bull and bear fights. Sunday, or some prominent holiday, was invariably the day chosen for holding these, to prepare for which a large corral was erected in the plaza in front of the church, for they were witnessed by priest and layman alike. In the afternoon, after Divine service, two or three good bulls (if a bull-fight only) would be caught and put into the inclosure, when the combat commenced. If there is anything that will make a wild bull furious, it is the sight of a red blanket. Surrounded by the entire population, the fighters entered the arena, each with one of these in one hand and a knife in the other, the first of which they would flaunt before the furious beast, but guardedly keeping it between the animal and himself. Infuriated beyond degree, with flashing eye and head held down, the bull would dash at his enemy, who with a dextrous side spring would evade the onslaught, leaving the animal to strike the blanket, and as he passed would inflict a slash with his knife. Whenever by his quickness he could stick his knife into the bull's neck just behind the horns, thereby wounding the spinal cord, the bull fell a corpse, and the victor received the plaudits of the admiring throng. The interest taken in these exhibitions was intense; and, what though a man was killed, had his ribs broken, was thrown over the fence, or tossed on to the roof of a house; it only added zest to the sport-it was of no moment, the play went on. It was a national amusement.

When a grizzly bear could be procured, then the fight instead of being between man and bull, was between bull and bear. Both were taken into the corral, each being made fast to either end of a rope of sufficient length to permit of free action, and left alone until they chose to open the ball. The first motion was usually made by the bull endeavoring to part company from the bear, who thus received the first "knock down." On finding that he could not get clear of Bruin, he then charged him, but was met half way. If the bear could catch the bull by the nose, he held him at a disadvantage; but he more frequently found that he had literally taken the bull by the horns, when the fight became intensely interesting, and was kept up until one or the

other was killed, or both refused to renew the combat. The bull, unless his horns were clipped, was generally victorious.

This custom of bull and bear fighting was kept up by the native Californians, as a money-making institution from the Americans, until the year 1854, when the Legislature interposed by an "An Act to prevent noisy and barbarous amusements on the Sabbath."

Judge R. F. Peckham tells the following incident in regard to this Act, which, though not occurring in this county, still took place in the Santa Clara valley. Shortly after the foregoing enactment became a law, great preparations were made for having a bull-fight, on the Sabbath, as usual, at the old Mission of San Juan Bautista. They were notified by the officers of the existence of the new law, and that they must desist from the undertaking. Dr. Wiggins, a mission pioneer in California since 1842, was then residing at San Juan; he spoke Spanish fluently, and was looked upon as a great friend by the native Californians. He never smiled, nor appeared to jest, yet he was the greatest tale-teller, jester and punster on the Pacific coast. In sallies of genuine wit he stood unequaled. In their perplexity about the new law, the Californians took counsel with the doctor; he examined the title of the Act with much seriousness and great wisdom. "Go on with your bull-fights,' was the doctor's advice; "they can do nothing with you. This is an Act to prevent noisy and barbarous amusements on the Sabbath. If they arrest you, you will be entitled to trial by jury; the jury will be Americans; they will, before they can convict you, have to find three things: first, that a bull-fight is noisy; this they will find against you; second, that it is barbarous; this they will find against you; but an American jury will never find that it is an amusement in Christ's time. Go on with your bull-fights." They did go on, and were arrested, to find that the doctor had been practicing a cruel joke on this long-cherished institution. They were sentenced to pay a fine, and it was the last of the bull-fights. Thus passed away the only surviving custom of a former civilization.

The history of the settlement of any county of California follows as sequentially, and is so closely allied with the history of the Pacific coast in general, and this State in particular, that to commence the chronicling of events from the beginning naturally and properly takes us back to the first discoveries in this portion of the globe made by the bold old voyageurs, who left the known world and charted seas behind them and sailed out into an unknown, untraversed, unmapped and trackless main, whose mysteries were to them as great as those of that "undiscovered country" of which the Prince of Denmark speaks.

In the year 1728, a Dane named Vitus Behring was employed by Catherine of Russia to proceed on an exploring expedition to the northwest coast of

America and Asia, to find, if possible, an undiscovered connection between the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. On this voyage he solved the riddle, and gave to the world the straits which now bear his name. On his return he tendered to the Empress the handsome skins which he had procured on his cruise, and so delighted was she, and so excited was the cupidity of capitalists from other countries, that soon settlements were established on the coast, and the collection of furs commenced. In 1799, the Russian American Fur Company was organized and located in what is now known as Alaska; Sitka was founded in 1805; and for many years the neighbors of the Russ were the Austrians and Danes. Now came the British. An association known as the King George's Sound Company was organized in London in 1784, for the purpose of making a settlement on the Pacific coast, whither many of their vessels found their way until 1790. Between the years 1784 and 1790 the coast was visited by ships of the East India Company; and about the last-named year, craft of the United States were first seen in these waters.

The ship Columbia, Robert Gray, Captain, arrived at the Straits of Fuca June 5th, 1791, and traded along the coast, discovering the Columbia river, which he named after his vessel, May 7th, 1792. In 1810 a number of hunters and trappers arrived in the ship Albatross, Captain Smith, and established the first American settlement on the Pacific coast. In the same year, under the leadership of John Jacob Astor, the Pacific Fur Company was organized in New York; and in 1811 they founded the present town of Astoria, at the mouth of the Columbia river. The British, however, soon after wrested it from their hands, and drove all the Americans out of the country, many of whom found their way into California. Between the years 1813 and 1822, save deserters from vessels, and those connected with trading-posts, there were no Americans on the coast.

In his "Natural Wealth of California," Titus Fey Cronise informs us that from 1825 until 1834 the whole of the California trade was in the hands of a few Boston merchants. A voyage to this coast and back, during that time, was an enterprise of very uncertain duration, generally occupying two or three years. The outward cargo, which usually consisted of groceries and coarse cotton goods, had to be retailed to the missionaries and settlers, as there were no "jobbers" in those times, and neither newspapers, telegraphs, nor stages through which to inform customers of the ship's arrival. The crew had to travel all over the country to convey the news, which occupied considerable time. It was this portion of their duties that caused so many of them to desert their ships. They saw so much of the country, became so charmed with the freedom, ease, and plenty that prevailed everywhere, that they preferred to remain on shore. Each of these vessels generally brought several young men as adventurers, who worked their passage out for the privilege of remaining.

Many of the early settlers, whose children are now among the wealthiest citizens of the State, came to California in this manner.

The outward cargo being disposed of, the homeward one had to be procured. Sometimes, when the season had been too dry, or too wet for the lazy vaqueros to drive the cattle into the missions to kill, there were no hides or tallow to be had. On such occasions the vessel was obliged to remain till the next season, when a sufficient number of cattle would be slaughtered to pay for the goods purchased, as there was no "currency" in the country except hides and tallow.

The first white man, other than the Spaniards, who made what might be considered a permanent settlement in this part of the country, was William Smith, more commonly known as "Bill the Sawyer." He planted his domicile near where the town of Woodside now stands. At precisely what time he arrived on this coast, or what particular inducement brought him into the redwoods, no one now living can tell. The best authority on the subject, and the most definite statement, is his own story, to the effect that he came out to Astoria on one of the Pacific Fur Company's ships, and that when the British in 1816 supplanted the Americans there and drove them from the country, he came to California. Smith was an American, from one of the Eastern States, but from which one is not known. One fact is certain, he was a resident of the Pueblo de San José before the year 1833. He had married a Spanish lady, and when he was in the redwoods his eldest child was about a year old. He afterwards moved to a place north of the bay, where he died. His last residence was in what is now Marin county. His children are now elderly people, and know comparatively little about the history of the old pioneer.

The next white settler after Smith, within the present county limits, was James Peace, who is now living, and still a resident of San Mateo county. Here his home has been continuously, ever since he drove the first nail in his original cabin. Peace is a descendant, on his father's side, from a native of bonnie Scotland. His father was Stewart Peace, and his mother's maiden name was Ellen Essen. She was a native of Denmark. James was born on one of the Orkney Islands, in 1798, consequently he is now about eighty-five years of age. His father was a fisherman, and owned a little fleet of small fishing craft. When about eleven years of age, James was seized with an irresistible desire to go to sea, but failing to get the permission of his parents, and meeting with only strenuous opposition in that direction, he determined to run away from home, and not a great while elapsed before he had an opportunity afforded him for carrying out this design. A whaling vessel was about to sail from a neighboring port on a cruise to the northern ocean, for oil and whalebone. Young Peace left the parental roof without waiting to receive a blessing from father or mother, and hid himself away on board of the vessel the day before she was to sail. When she weighed anchor he was