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TRAILS TO FRANKLIN TOWN

Once upon a time Santa Rosa had a rival village next door named Franklin Town.

Or not.

The often-told story goes something like this: In the early 1850s, before there was a place called Santa Rosa, Oliver Beaulieu founded a village somewhere near the Carrillo adobe. He named it Franklin after his brother. A church was built and there were a handful of businesses (tavern/inn, blacksmith, etc.) plus a like number of houses. In 1853 Julio Carrillo, along with three other men, laid out a street plan about a mile to the west for a town they called Santa Rosa.1 After it was declared the new county seat the following year, the denizens of Franklin began rolling their buildings to Santa Rosa on wheels. By 1855 or so, all of them – including the church – had been moved. There was nary a trace of Franklin left.

Twenty years passed before any of that Franklin history was told, although that’s not particularly surprising. When it faded away there was only a single weekly newspaper in the area (the Sonoma County Journal in Petaluma) and even Santa Rosa was scarcely mentioned in its pages – why waste ink on a defunct settlement? But once local area histories began being written in the mid 1870s, there was always a passage about Franklin. As the years went on those mentions kept getting longer as historians cribbed from their predecessors and tossed in more details. If you added up all the varied claims (transcribed below) there were up to three stores, a couple of taverns, a hotel, a blacksmith or two, the church, a wagon shop and a saddle tree factory.

None of the historians cited where they got their information, and only one could have possibly visited the short-lived Franklin (Robert A. Thompson, who began living near Petaluma in 1852). At the same time, that lack of a firm narrative also lends the story an air of mystery – which is why we’re still talking about it today.

Questions abound: What appeal did Santa Rosa have that Franklin lacked? Why were the residents quick to abandon it? Did Beaulieu actually intend to establish an incorporated town? And what’s the deal with the name “Franklin Town?” That’s just the top of the list.

We know some answers and can make reasonable guesses at others, but there are also blind alleys. Beaulieu supposedly had about half a square mile surveyed, but the map is lost (if it ever existed). He moved to Santa Clara County and years later a lengthy profile appeared in that county’s history book. Subjects paid a good deal of money to get their bio and picture in those “mug books,” so it’s a sure thing it tells his lifestory as he wanted – and it didn’t mention Franklin at all. As for the story it was named in honor of his brother, that didn’t appear until 1880 and came from a non-local historian who cranked out a book for a different county every year.2

Oliver Beaulieu, Oliver Jr., and a woman believed to be his second wife, Elise Pinard Beaulieu c. 1860. Image courtesy Sonoma County Library
Oliver Beaulieu, Oliver Jr., and a woman believed to be his second wife, Elise Pinard Beaulieu c. 1860. Image courtesy Sonoma County Library

Come the 20th century, the story of Franklin became further muddled. One historian said most of the buildings were “small split redwood shanty-style” dumps without doors or windows.3 (Henry Beaver, who had a two-story brick house would like to have a word about that.)

Assumptions about its general location grew fuzzy; one historian placed it a mile east of the Carrillo Adobe. Hunting for clues as to where it was, SSU grad student Kim Diehl chopped through a tangle of deeds with cryptic landmarks such as a “fir red oak” and “where the road formerly crossed the creek.”4

Even rough map identifiers such as the locations of roads aren’t always helpful. Unmarked trails became roads and some of those roads took more than one name over time. The earliest historical description put Franklin at the “junction of the Sonoma road with the Fulkerson lane.” Okay, so it’s an easy assumption that “Sonoma road” is the road to the town of Sonoma – but where was “Fulkerson lane?” Was it the same as the “road to Mark West’s farm?”

Without ranking those historians by their hits and misses, let me just repeat that the internet has brought researchers an age of miracles and wonders. Rare maps are just a click or tap away, and the power to completely search heritage newspapers turns up references where no one would otherwise look. Thus with the aid of the three annotated map segments below, here’s the Executive Summary of Frankin’s location:

Franklin Town was close to the present site of the Flamingo Hotel and Hillside Inn, catty-corner from the Carrillo Adobe and across Santa Rosa Creek. This was near the intersection of three major roads/trails leading east, west, and north. The Sonoma Road is roughly the same as Highway 12. What they called the Bodega Road is now Fourth St. Fulkerson Lane – AKA Russian River Road and Cemetery Lane – is known today as Bryden Lane, which then passed the Rural Cemetery on its way towards the Old Redwood Highway.5

2024 map courtesy MapQuest
2024 map courtesy MapQuest
2024 map courtesy MapQuest

1877 map from Historical atlas map of Sonoma County, California (SOURCE)
1877 map from Historical atlas map of Sonoma County, California (SOURCE)
1877 map from Historical atlas map of Sonoma County, California (SOURCE)

1866 map from Map Of Sonoma County California (SOURCE)
1866 map from Map Of Sonoma County California (SOURCE)
1866 map from Map Of Sonoma County California (SOURCE)

A high number of cartography errors are obvious, such as the distance between the Sonoma Road and Santa Rosa Creek. But we can still situate the Carrillo adobe with some accuracy. We can narrow down the approximate location of Franklin Town as being consistently described on property later owned by Lucas and Simms. (The Carrillo adobe is represented by the icon carrilloiconand is not pictorially accurate to what it looked like).

The name has a more complex explanation, but one key to the puzzle is that it was referred to as Franklin Town and not simply Franklin. Yes, it’s possible it was in honor of Beaulieu’s brother who had a name which was sort of similar (see fn. 2) but it’s more likely that Beaulieu wasn’t the person who named it. Evidence suggests it was actually called that because of a guy named…Franklin.

A quick refresher in 1850s Sonoma County will be helpful. The area was sparsely populated yet steadily filling up with settlers who were homesteading farms and cattle ranches, but only a lucky few had legal title to their places. Some leased acreage or had other deals with the landowners but most were squatters, possibly unaware who actually owned the land. (Here’s an excellent contemporary summary of the “squatter difficulties” at the time, plus an account of visiting the Carrillo’s at their adobe.) The squatters were in turn scammed and exploited. Charles Justi – who we’ll meet again in a few moments – thought he owned 500 acres near Glen Ellen but ended up with just 40. Violence was not unheard of; a deputy sheriff was killed near Healdsburg and a confrontation at Bodega Bay came close to a shooting war.

All of that meant plenty of ongoing legal doings. And since the county courthouse was then in the town of Sonoma while most of the squatters lived north of there, the Sonoma Road was one very busy thoroughfare. It was a time-consuming trip by buggy or horseback; two hours between (future) Santa Rosa and Sonoma was considered good. Should your land claim be further north – say, near Geyserville – add a couple more hours to that.

Along that entire length of road there were only three places for a traveler to stop – remember: no Santa Rosa yet. Part of the Carrillo adobe was used as a tavern called “Santa Rosa House,” which lasted until sometime in 1853. About three miles further along modern Hwy. 12, near the turnoff for St. Francis Road, was Bear Flag House. Owned by Bear Flagger W. B. Elliott (absolutely no relation to this author) this was a tavern and a very significant place in early county history. Even before official statehood the Democratic party hob-nobbed there to decide how they would administer the county and who was to run for office. Any researcher looking into pre-Civil War politics in Northern California should beeline to learning about what went on there.

But those taverns were just a room in someone’s house and it’s not clear whether Elliott’s was even open most of the time, as he also had a cattle ranch near Mark West. Until he reached the town of Sonoma, the only chance for our weary traveler to rest came when he reached Half-Way House, about two miles south of today’s Kenwood.6 Here was an actual hotel where you could stay the night, have a hot meal and likely a hot bath. It would soon be a main stagecoach stop, in part because there was a barn where the drivers would board horses.

The owner and operator of Half-Way House was William F. Franklin.

Is he the Franklin in Franklin Town? The strongest evidence comes from a primary source: His son, William Jr., who lived here at the time and returned for a visit in 1925, when he gave an interview to the Press Democrat. He was adamant it was named after his dad.7

While Franklin Town and Half-Way House were a few miles apart, it’s easy to see how there could have been a connection. William Franklin was well known because of the hotel and in the 19th c. unincorporated spaces often became associated with the name of an early settler. Many are still in use today: Dillon Beach, Eldridge, Schellville, Marshall, Stewarts Point, etc.

Nor was there much distinction in the early 1850s between (what we call today) the Valley of the Moon and Santa Rosa Valley. The countryside all looked about the same and was used the same – a patchwork of small family operations aimed at producing things to feed San Francisco. Given that Franklin’s hotel was a rare landmark, it’s not completely surprising people might have associated a swath of eastern and central Sonoma County as being an unofficial district known as Franklin.

That would go far to explain why the earliest references to the settlement were Franklin Town and not just simply Franklin – it’s the same way we use today “the town of Sonoma” or “Sonoma City” to distinguish it from the overall county.

Pondering what they called the village in those days is like a parlor game; it’s fun, but really doesn’t mean much. The question of why Franklin Town was abandoned isn’t so trivial, in major part because generations of historians have mused it offered serious competition to Santa Rosa emerging as the dominant community in the area. One historian even went so far as to (irresponsibly) suggest there was an untold “Dark Tale of a Lost City.”

Yes, the residents of Franklin Town did migrate to Santa Rosa, but it wasn’t because the Franklinites were seeking the ceaseless joy of living near the jail and courthouse. Santa Rosa’s gravitational pull began even before the vote to make it the county seat. There were a combination of factors why it happened; Santa Rosa did have features that made it a more desirable place to live, while at the same time Franklin Town began facing setbacks that made it harder to remain there.

We credit the founding of Santa Rosa to Julio Carrillo and three ambitious shopkeepers turned real estate developers. True enough, but Franklin Town couldn’t compete because it had nearly reached its limits for growth – the area where Beaulieu and others expected Franklin Town to grow was prone to flooding.

In her last will, Doña María Carrillo referred to the land above Santa Rosa Creek as “the swamp.” Sold to Beaulieu after her death, he in turn sold it to John Lucas.8 When Lucas died and the farm was subdivided and sold off years later, an overview printed in the Democrat described more than half as “bottom land.” The crossroads may have stayed reasonably dry but more at risk was the section around today’s Proctor Terrace. Concerns about its flooding can be found when the deal was made to accept the adjacent Rural Cemetery to be the local graveyard. The citizen’s committee top concern for that specific location was “not subject to overflow in time of high water.”

The year 1853 was pivotal in the conflicting futures of Santa Rosa and Franklin Town. In the latter’s favor the church was built (the first one in the area) and the nearby trading post at the old Carrillo adobe was busier than ever. Over in Santa Rosa, Carrillo and the other three began laying out streets for their possible future town.

There are no local newspapers from that year, so we don’t get to eavesdrop on the arguments being made for one location over the other. But we do know the winter of 1852-1853 had been extremely wet (according to San Francisco weather stations), with Nov-Dec setting close to the all-time record. If the swamp/bottom land was indeed underwater, that had to influence plans to continue development around Franklin Town.

Meanwhile, Santa Rosa was forging ahead with new construction. In early 1854 a small hotel opened along with a general store. A Masonic Lodge was chartered, which was quite a big deal considering the village only had three houses. (Petaluma wouldn’t establish their Lodge until the following year, despite being far larger with several hundred residents.) Most importantly, Santa Rosa had a livery stable and Franklin Town didn’t. In that horsey age when nearly everyone rented horses and buggies to travel, having a stable nearby gave Santa Rosa a major advantage.9

Few seemed to recognize it at the time, but the scales tipped decisively towards Santa Rosa later in 1854, when the Board of Supervisors made it the county seat. Gentle Reader might assume that would be a net advantage for Franklin Town, as it was now “closer to the action” (as it were). Not so. Traffic on the Sonoma Road dropped sharply. No more squatters en route to the Recorder’s office stopping somewhere to wet their whistle. Gone were plaintiffs heading to court when their horse threw a shoe and needed attention from a blacksmith.

The first to cut his losses was Elliott, owner of the Bear Flag House. The tavern stayed around (it’s shown on the 1866 map) but he and his family resettled in Lake County sometime in 1854. The next major landowner to go was Beaulieu, who moved to San Jose in 1856. That same year the church was taken to Santa Rosa “on wheels and hauled there by six yoke of oxen.”

Sadly, the history books don’t always tell those parts of the story accurately. Instead you’ll find the writers compress the timeline and portray events happening closer to 1854 than they often did. The worst offender was Robert A. Thompson, who offered the first account about Franklin Town and claimed “within the year [1855] all the houses in Franklin were moved to the new county seat.” There was no parade of buildings trundling their way westward; the church and a couple of houses may have been the only structures that were moved and it happened later.

Nor did business and development in Franklin Town abruptly cease. Ads in the Democrat show Henry Beaver continued operating his brickyard there until at least 1858. Sterling T. Coulter (AKA “Squire Coulter”) built a home in 1854, though sometime later he did roll the place to Santa Rosa, where it first stood on Exchange Avenue and then another location for over fifty years – so much for the town being nothing but shacks.10


THE FORGOTTEN MR. FRANKLIN

William Francis Franklin was born in England in 1817 or 1818. He came to the area from Australia in 1852 and built Half-Way House, although the census and a for-sale ad suggest it was 1851.

William Sr. became a naturalized U.S. citizen at Sonoma in 1858, just a few days after he first advertised to sell the hotel. As he continued efforts to find a buyer, he became secretary of the Sonoma Quicksilver Mining Company which had a mine at Pine Flat near the Geysers. In 1861 the company held monthly meetings at Half-Way House and was eventually sold to New York investors.

When Ann attempted to divorce William in 1869 they were no longer living together. In the 1880s they both became indigents, with him at the Sonoma County Poor Farm and she receiving a county stipend in Petaluma. William found work as some sort of engineer in San Rafael, but died in 1890 as a resident of the Marin County Poor Farm. He is buried in an unmarked grave at the cemetery there while Ann has a proper tombstone at Petaluma’s Cypress Hill.

But the worst shortcoming in those histories was failure to write anything about the village’s (supposed) namesake, William Franklin. Even if the place really was an anglicized version of one of Beaulieu’s many Canadian brothers – which seems like a stretch – Half-Way House was still an important landmark in early county history and deserved a nod.

Half-Way House remained open as the other early settlers moved on, but it wasn’t by choice. Franklin first placed an ad in the Democrat listing it for sale in 1858 and kept running the classified intermittently for years, becoming more desperate (“…will sell the above place VERY CHEAP FOR CASH!”) as time went on.

Apparently William and Ann separated in the mid 1860s, with her continuing to operate the hotel after it was leased to neighbor Charles Justi.11 William still owned it until 1868 when the county auctioned it off because of an unpaid tax bill of $8.18 (less than $200 today).

By then, Franklin Town was certainly gone. Beaulieu sold most of the property ID’d as the village to John Lucas in 1857, although Coulter, Beaver and possibly others still owned parts of the dwindling settlement.

So what should obituaries for Franklin Town say? To my mind there are three takeaways:

*
It was never a “rival” or in any way a challenger to Santa Rosa’s emergence. As discussed above, the first Santa Rosa area settlers invested in core businesses – store, stable, hotel, etc. No one in early Franklin Town seemed to have such ambitions, perhaps because potential flooding limited opportunities for development.
*
Aside from the brickyard and the saddle tree maker, Franklin Town’s commerce centered on servicing travelers going to and from the town of Sonoma. It was like a laissez-faire version of a modern highway truck stop – a place where you could knock on a door to buy a quick snack or flagon of cider, have a guy grease your squeaky wagon wheel, visit a proper outhouse. Once Sonoma was no longer the county seat that traffic dried up. After that happened in 1854 those residents and their little businesses drifted away with none to take their place.
*
The church filled an important social function as a gathering place for settlers all over central Sonoma County, being at such a well-known crossroads. When it moved to Santa Rosa in 1856 Franklin Town lost its final excuse to exist.

Franklin Town came and went quickly; anyone wanting to bookend it can summarize the years 1851-1859 as pretty likely. There were scarcely more than a handful of buildings counting the church. For a settlement so short-lived and tiny it may seem unusual that historians kept its memory alive, but the novelty of moving a “town” makes for a good story.

Perhaps, too, the historians spoke to former residents who can be forgiven for waxing nostalgic about what it was like. Although just a mile or so from where Santa Rosa would claw its way into existence, Franklin Town was still an untamed place. William Franklin’s son told the Press Democrat deer and antelope were then plentiful, and “a few minutes of fishing would suffice to catch a bag full of trout.”

Small though it was, there was also a sense of community. When the Coulters celebrated their golden wedding anniversary in 1904 the PD printed a notice they hoped the event would be also a reunion with their old friends who remembered Franklin Town:


Fifty years ago on that date in the old Santa Rosa, then known as the town of Franklin, Mr. and Mrs. Coulter were married, and it is hoped that when they celebrate the important occasion the honored pioneers will have the pleasure of having as their guests several of those who were among those present at their wedding day in the old town, in 1854.


1 See “CITY OF ROSES AND SQUATTERS” for more on Santa Rosa’s founding

2 Although there are easier explanations for the name, among his eleven siblings Oliver had an older brother, François Xavier Beaulieu, b. 1805 Quebec, d. 1875 Detroit, who had no known association with California and was not mentioned by Oliver in the Santa Clara mug book profile. Oliver Beaulieu could neither read nor write according to the 1860 census, which might explain why his name was also spelled as Boulieu, Boleau, Boliew, Boulieu and Bolio

3 Gaye LeBaron et. al., Santa Rosa: A Twentieth Century Town, 1985

4 Kim Diehl, Oliver Beaulieu and the town of Franklin, unpublished, 1999 and 2006 errata

5 Confusing everything further, the city thought it would be a swell idea to rename part of Cemetery Lane to Franklin Avenue in 1893, although it’s nearly a mile away.

6 “Half-Way House” was a common name for a roadhouse at the time. There was another on the road between Santa Rosa and Petaluma, which appears to be the original name for Washoe House between 1859-1861.

7 The timeline in the PD article is confusing because it doesn’t mention his parents separated in the 1860s, with William moving to Santa Rosa and the family going to Glen Ellen.

8 Diehl op. cit. pg. 19

9 As noted here previously, James P. Clark bought Julio Carrillo’s “stall and buggy shed” and turned it into the Fashion Livery Stable – an operation so big it would take up the entire city block where the Roxy movie theater complex is today.

10 Sterling Coulter’s house was moved again in 1872, this time to lower Fourth Street midpoint Wilson and A streets, where it continued to be used until 1925 and was demolished to make room for a new office building.

11 Charles Justi (1806-1885) was the retired captain of the Georgiana, a Sonoma Creek-San Francisco sidewheeler. For reasons unclear, editors had trouble getting his name right; Half-Way House appears on the 1866 map as “Justin’s Hotel,” and the Democrat newspaper took to calling the vicinity as “Justa Station.”

 

Title Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

 

sources
 

HISTORIES

THE CITY OF SANTA ROSA. HISTORICAL SKETCH.
Origin of the Name – What it Contains and How it is Supported.
…In the year 1852 A. Meacham and Barney Hoen had a store at the old adobe. They sold goods and purchased Spanish cattle for the San Francisco market. F. G. Hahman purchased the interest of Meacham and carried on the business at the old adobe. Mr. Meacham had bought of Julio Carrillo seventy acres of land, on a portion of which Santa Rosa stands. In 1853 Hartman, Hahman and Hoen purchased this tract of 70 acres from Meacham for $1,600, and with Carrillo, laid off the town. The line between them ran through C street and the center of the plaza. The firm donated the east half and Carrillo the west half of the plaza to the town. Meanwhile a few houses were built at the junction of the Sonoma road with the Fulkerson lane. This was called the town of Franklin. S. T. Coulter had a store, and Dr. J. P. Boyce was the architect and builder of one of its redwood houses. In the meantime Santa Rosa was growing. Hahman put up a store here, and slowly but surely Franklin town gravitated from its base to Santa Rosa. Among the buildings which changed location was the old Baptist church on Third street, which was the first, and for a long time, the only church in town.

– Sonoma Democrat, January 2 1875

SANTA ROSA–CONDENSED SKETCH OF ITS EARLY HISTORY
In the summer of 1853, the question of the removal of the county seat from the town of Sonoma to a more central locality was agitated. A town was laid off at what was then the junction of the Bodega, Russian river and Sonoma roads, just where the cemetery lane unites with the Sonoma road, near the eastern boundary of the city. Dr. J. F. Boyce and S. G. Clark built and opened a store there. Soon after, J. W. Ball built a tavern and a small store. H. Beaver opened a blacksmith shop, C. C. Morehouse, a wagon shop, W. B. Birch, a saddle-tree factory.

In September, 1853, S. T. Coulter and W. H. McClure bought out the business of Boyce and Clark. The same year the Baptist church was built, free for all denominations. Thus early was liberality in religious matters established on the borders of Santa Rosa, and happily it continues down to this day. The only two dwellings were owned by S. T. Coulter and H. Beaver.

Franklin town had now touched the high tide of its prosperity, and was destined to fall before a more promising rival which, up to this time had cut no figure in the possibilities of the future…

– Sonoma Democrat, July 8, 1876

…Early in 1853 J. W. Ball came into the valley; he first located on the Farmer place, on the south side of Santa Rosa Creek. There a number of his family died of small-pox; he then moved over to the Boleau place, where Dr. Simms now lives, and kept there a sort of tavern and store. He bought ten acres of land at the junction of the Russian river, Bodega and Sonoma roads, where the cemetery land now intersects the Sonoma road, and laid off a town there, which was called Franklin-town. S. G. Clark and Dr. Boyce, who had bought out Ball, built and opened a store in Franklin. Ball had a tavern there; H. Beaver a blacksmith shop, and W. B. Birch a saddle-tree factory. In September, 1853, S. T. Coulter and W. H. McClure bought out Boyce & Clark.

The same fall the Baptist church, free to all denominations, was built. For a short time Franklin divided the attention of new comers with Santa Rosa and the “old adobe” [the former Carrillo family home]. The selection of Santa Rosa as the county seat, in the fall of 1854, put an end to rivalry. Within the year following all the houses in Franklin were moved to the new county seat, including the church, which still stands on Third street, between E and D streets. In 1875 it was sold and converted into two tenement houses…

– Historical and Descriptive Sketch of Sonoma County, California by Robert A. Thompson, 1877

…In the Spring of 1853, there arrived in the Santa Rosa valley one John W. Ball, who located on the south side of the Santa Rosa creek, but losing several children here from small-pox, which was epidemic in this year, removed to certain land, about three-fourths of a mile from the present city, the property of Oliver Boleau, a French Canadian, a part of whose house (now in the occupation of Dr. Simms) he rented, at one hundred and fifty dollars per month, and opened a small store and public house. The then direct road from the Russian river, the districts to the north of it, and Bodega country, to Sonoma, at that time the only place of export from the county, met at this point, therefore Boleau conceived the idea of here establishing a town. He had about half a mile square surveyed, and named it Franklin, after a brother in Canada; it was placed at the junction of the Sonoma road with the Fulkerson lane. That Spring, S. G. Clark, Dr. J. F. Boyce and Nute McClure bought out Ball and erected a small dry goods store of split redwoods, in size, twenty-four by thirty-six feet, where they continued business until the Fall, when the firm of Clark, Boyce & McClure was bought out by McCluer and Coulter. In the same season John Ball erected a wooden hotel, there being then in town H. Beaver, who kept a blacksmith shop, and W. B. Birch, a saddle-tree manufacturer, while in the early part of 1854 S. T. Coulter erected a dwelling house.

The selection of Santa Rosa as the capital of the county, put an end to all rivalry which may have existed between Franklin, the old adobe, and it. One by one the buildings erected in Franklin were transferred to Santa Rosa, until in 1855 their entire removal was effected; the first house in that short-lived city being now located on Eighth, between Wilson and Davis streets, occupied by J. T. Campbell, while that erected by Coulter is now the Boston saloon, on Fourth street. A Baptist Church, free to all denominations, which had been there constructed in the Fall of 1853, was also moved, and after serving the purpose for which it was originally built, on Third, between E and D streets, was, in 1875, sold and converted into two tenement houses. This was the first church built in the township and city…

– History of Sonoma County by J. P. Munro-Fraser, 1880

…Mr. Meacham had purchased from Julio Carrillo eighty acres of land, just west of the Bolio [Boleau] tract, it being that portion of the present city [Santa Rosa] lying east of the late Plaza. The firm of Hoen & Co., purchased this tract of Mr. Meacham August 9th, 1853 — “Say 70 1/2 acres, opposite Julio Carrillo’s, for the sum of $1,600.” About this time — the Summer of 1853 — it began to be very evident that there was going to be a town somewhere in the neighborhood of the Santa Rosa House [the old Carrillo adobe]. W. P. Ball, a blacksmith, had a shop and small house on the Bolio place. A town was laid out on the land of Bolio, just where what is known as Cemetery lane intersects the Sonoma road.

This was the point of junction of the Sonoma, Bodega and Russian River roads. It was a good town site one would think, and beautifully located. Dr. J. F. Boyce and S. G. Clark built a store there; Ball built another and an inn; H. Beaver started a blacksmith shop; C. Morehouse a wagon shop, and W. B. Brush a saddle-tree factory. The town took the name of Franklin Town — a good name a town of “free men.” But it did not survive. Why, it is difficult now to say. W. H. McClure and S. T. Coulter, present Master of the State Grange of the State of California, bought out Boyce & Clark. The Baptist Church was built. Mr. Coulter and Mr. Beaver had dwellings in Franklin Town. All this was in the year 1853. When the residents of Franklin Town heard of their having a formidable rival close at hand they smiled at the idea…

…A grand joint celebration and electioneering high-jinks feast was held on the 4th of July, 1854, to show up the new town and to get votes for the proposed new seat…After this Fourth of July celebration Franklin Town collapsed; one by one the houses gravitated to Santa Rosa, some on rollers, some on wheels, some otherwise, but all came. The next Spring the purple lockspur and the yellow cupped poppy contended for supremacy on the site fo the hopeful cross-road village of the previous Spring…

– Central Sonoma: A Brief Description of the Township and Town of Santa Rosa, 1884 (SAME AS Resources of Santa Rosa Valley and the Town of Santa Rosa, Sonoma County, California by R. A. Thompson, 1884)

OUR OWN HOME
ITS PAST PROSPERITY AND PROMISING FUTURE.
…The next house was built just across the creek from the “old adobe”, on what is now the Dalglish place, by Oliver Bolio. David Mallagh, who married one of the Carrillo girls, kept the first store in the oid adobe. In 1852 he sold out to A. Meacham, who is now residing on Mark West creek, an honored and highly respected pioneer citizen. there was a junction of the Russian River, Bodega and Sonoma roads at the corner of Capt. Grosse’s hop yard, just where the cemetery lane comes into the main road. Quite a cluster of houses gathered about the corners. Bolio, who owned the land, laid out a town there which had the name of Franklin. Dr. J. F. Boyce and S. G. Clark had a store there, and W. B. Brush a saddle tree factory. A good saddle tree maker, in those days, had fortune by the forelock…

– Sonoma Democrat, January 2 1892

RISE AND FALL OF FRANKLIN TOWN.
While Santa Rosa –floral city of the plain–was in early bud, a near-city was growing up–in the night, as it were. Its forefathers called it Franklin Town. Why “Town” and with a big T, has never been told. Only a few of the old guard yet this side of the cemetery gates really remember Franklin Town. As it came, it passed away in the night, or rather, in the morning of its first-day-after.

Its site is just without the present city line on the east, near the reservoir hill. Some day, perhaps, the extension of the boundaries will take in the old place, and then Franklin Town will awake to life–becoming an addition to the Santa Rosa it sought to blight in tender flower. Chiefs of the city in embryo were Dr. J. F. Boyce–venerable “Doc Boyce” who medicined and surgeoned the later Santa Rosans for many a year and eccentric to the point of profanity, which often drove his patients to recover quickly and get him out of the sickroom; also S. T. Coulter — good old “Squire Coulter,” Pioneer Patron of Husbandry, Lord of the Sonoma Grange, and who didn’t believe that the grass and herbs and the trees that bore fruit in their season were first sprouted on the Third Day of Creation, and said even Luther Burbank couldn’t grow things that speedy. Now, deep under the turf these “old forefathers of the hamlet sleep,” and heaven speed their run to the saints.

One feature that shines like a star through this dark Tale of a Lost City, is Franklin Town had a church, then the only church in the county except the Mission Solano at Sonoma. Its faith was Baptist, though all shades of the “two and seventy jarring sects,” as Omar Khayyam phrases them, were welcomed to use that sanctuary for the uplift of any possible sinful citizen of Franklin Town. The willow-bank creek consecrated by Parson Juan Amoroso when he baptized the Indian girl and called her La Rosa — spiritual daughter of Santa Rosa de Lima — splashed and bubbled pure as the Jordan when John came preaching in the wilderness, but it is not positively known that Doc Boyce or Squire Coulter ever availed themselves of the lustral waters flowing by Franklin Town, unless to wash a shirt.

But the finger of doom was writing on the clap-board walls of Franklin Town, Hoen, Hahmann and Hartman — the triple H-builders of Santa Rosa, were housing up C — now Main — street. The diplomatic dads of the coming place got up a Welcome-To-Our-City barbecue, and when the Franklinites saw the hosts of all-invited guests gathering around the Santa Rosa flesh-pots, they also saw the finish of Franklin Town. Soon it was in transit, the Baptist church, on four wheels, led the way like the Ark of the Covenant before the immigrant Israelites herding to the Promised Land, and it afterwards was the pioneer tabernacle, upholding the doctrine of close-communion and total immersion in Santa Rosa, and fitting the aging citizens for another immigration — into Eternity.

– History of Sonoma California by Tom Gregory, 1911:

 

WILLIAM FRANKLIN AND HALF-WAY HOUSE

HALF WAY HOUSE For Sale.
THE subscriber wishing to leave the State, offers his place, known as the Half Way House between Santa Rosa and Sonoma, for sale. The House is too well known, and too long established to need any recommendation. Apply on the premises, to WILLIAM F. FRANKLIN.

– Sonoma Democrat June 17 1858

Half-Way House For Sale
THE SUBSCRIBER, wishing to leave the State, offers for sale his place, known as the “HALF-WAY HOUSE,” between Santa Rosa and Sonoma. The House has been eight years established, and is too well known to need any recommendation. For particulars, apply premises. W. F. FRANKLIN, Prop’r

– Sonoma Democrat July 21 1859

Fire. —The stable of the Half-way house, W. F. Franklin, proprietor, situated on the road leading from Santa Rosa to Sonoma, was destroyed by fire on Sunday night at eleven o’clock, together with its contents, which consisted of two stage horses belonging to Linihen & Co., proprietors of the Healdsburg and Sonoma line of stages, a horse belonging to a peddler, a quantity of hay and a horse belonging to Mr. Franklin. Through the greatest exertions the hotel was prevented from taking fire. The loss is not less than $1,000. The fire is supposed to be the work of an incendiary.

– Sonoma Democrat, August 8 1861

FOR SALE. FRANKLIN’S HALF-WAY HOUSE!
Situated on the Road from Santa Rosa to Sonoma.
The place is so well known that a lengthy description is deemed unnecessary.
As urgent business calls me to England, I am obliged indispose of my property, and will sell the above place
VERY CHEAP FOR CASH!
W F. FRANKLIN.
All persons indebted to me by note or book account will save expense by settling on or before the 1st December next. W. F. FRANKLIN.

– Sonoma Democrat, October 17 1861

Many of our readers no doubt have observed when passing over the road to Sonoma, from this place, when near the Half-way House, a range of hills lying to the East, and bordering along the Guilicos Rancho, which, with their reddish soil and barren surface do not present a fertile aspect. Well, on these apparently barren hills are to be found a number of enterprising German wine growers, who are busily engaged in cultivating the grape…

– Sonoma Democrat, March 21 1863

Half-Way House. —W. F. Franklin, on the Sonoma Road, keeps a good country hotel. We speak from experience, when we say that Mrs. Franklin, the obliging landlady of that establishment, can prepare as good a meal for the weary traveler, in as short a time, as could be desired by any one.

– Sonoma Democrat, June 10 1865

Against W. F. Franklin and improvements on land bounded Krom [sic: Crone, Kron or Krone] and Williams, east by Napa mountain, south by Warfield, and west by Justi, Sonoma county, California, for taxes $8.18 and costs of suit $16.50.

– Sonoma Democrat legal notice, August 22 1868

Last Sunday, in company with a few friends, we paid a flying visit to the new silver mines on Sonoma mountain. Taking the Sonoma road from Santa Rosa, we drove through the Guilicos Valley to the Half-way House, kept by our old friend Captain Justa…

– Sonoma Democrat, April 10 1869

…[Charles Justi] was captain of the steamer Georgiana, running between San Francisco and Embarcadero in the early fifties, whence he obtained the title Captain. He bought and owned 500 acres of land near Glen Ellen but lost all but 40 acres through litigation and defective titles. For many years the Captain [Justi] and his estimable wife conducted the Half-way house at the old homestead near Glen Ellen, and before the advent of railroads, while the stages were still running to Santa Rosa, did a thriving business.

– Sonoma Valley Expositor, June 9 1899

VISITOR HERE RECALLS DAYS 70 YEARS AGO
Pioneer Tells of Time When Santa Rosa Was Known as Franklin
The earliest history of Santa Rosa, when the village was called Franklin Town, was recalled here yesterday by the visit of William Franklin. Jr., of San Francisco, son of the pioneer after which the first settlement was named.

William Franklin and his wife came to Santa Rosa from Australia in 1852, after having been shipwrecked on the Hawaiian Islands, when his sailing vessel stopped there to secure water. A year was spent in the islands before another vessel could be secured to complete the voyage to California, and during this year the child who came here yesterday, a man of 73, was born.

The elder Franklin settled on the Sonoma-Santa Rosa road, just east of the present city, and with the arrival of others the village of Franklin Town came into being. The subsequent settlement and growth of Santa Rosa finally did away with the old village. Franklin worked for William Hood in his flour mill, first in Rincon Valley, and later in Franklin Town; built one of the first wooden houses in the city on what is now upper Fourth street; and helped build the old Colgan hotel on First street.

The Franklin family later moved to Glen Ellen, residing in the Dunbar district, where William Franklin. Jr., attended school with Nicholas Dunbar, father of Charles O. Dunbar, present mayor of Santa Rosa. John Dunbar, uncle of the mayor, now of San Luis Obispo, and Franklin are the only survivors of the class which Franklin attended, as far as he knows, he said yesterday.

Children of the Dunbar, Box, Justi and Simons families were in the class, as was the late George Guerne and his wife, Eliza Gibson.

Franklin bemoaned the condition of Santa Rosa creek, where, he said, splendid fishing conditions have been destroyed by the dumping of sawdust, tan bark and other debris. In his day, Franklin said, a few minutes of fishing would suffice to catch a bag full of trout. Grizzly bear were then plentiful within a few miles of the city, and deer, antelope and other game could be secured with little difficulty. he said.

– Press Democrat, July 21 1925

 

PROPERTIES

Another new building of brick will be commenced immediately, weather permitting, by Messrs. Melville Johnson and Jackson Temple, for a law office. It will occupy the site of the old Coulter House, next door south of the bank. This old landmark which long years ago voyaged from Franklin Town to this place, will be removed to a quiet locality more suited to its age and long services. The new building will be 18 feet front by sixty feet deep, one story, divided into three large offices.

– Sonoma Democrat, December 14 1872

Sale of Noted Farm. – The Lucas farm, near Santa Rosa, containing four hundred acres, has been subdivided and sold during this month by Dr. J. R. Sims, acting as agent for the owner. The subdivision nearest the town — within half a mile of the corporation limits containing forty-eight and one-half acres, was purchased by James Seawell, of this place, and Dr. Rupe, of Healdsburg, for $160 per acre. This left two hundred acres of bottom land, fronting on the Sonoma and Cemetery roads, and one hundred acres on the ridge back of the farm. This was sold out in six plats, to suit purchasers, each one taking a strip of hill land as wide as their frontage on the bottom. Richard Fulkerson purchased eighty-two acres, Including the land which lies north and back of the cemetery. Next, Frank Straney bought fifty-nine acres — thirty-two of bottom land. Next, L. B. Murdock, forty-five acres — forty of bottom land. Two parties from Yolo took the next one hundred acres. Dr. Simms purchases the home place, with the rest of the land, between thirty and forty acres in the bottom. The whole tract will net $41,500, which is the largest and best sale of land ever made in the vicinity of Santa Rosa. The Lucas farm was the first settled in this vicinity. On it was the site of the once rival of Santa Rosa, the town of Franklin.

– Sonoma Democrat, December 27 1873

HISTORIC LOCAL BUILDING RAZED – One of the first store buildings to be erected in Santa Rosa, or rather in old Franklin Town, was razed last week on lower Fourth street to prepare for the new Rosenberg building. Few people realized that the little wooden structure had such a history. It was the building in which the late Squire Coulter ran a store in Franklin Town in the ’50s. Later, when Santa Rosa was founded, it was moved to where the Hahman drug store now stands in Exchange avenue, where Squire Coulter occupied it as his business house. Later it was sold and was again moved to lower Fourth street, where for nearly 70 years it has been occupied by various businesses.

– Press Democrat, July 26 1925

 

MISC

Sonoma County Democratic Convention. At a meeting of the democratic delegates of Sonoma county, held at Franklin, Santa Rosa Valley, on the 8th inst., Wm. Ross was elected President.

– The Placer Herald, July 15, 1854

THE BAPTIST GOLDEN JUBILEE …In 1856 the primitive little church building was moved from Franklin to the Santa Rosa that was springing into existence. It was put on wheels and hauled there by six yoke of oxen. On Third street the oxen halted and the church occupied a site west of where the People’s Church now stands.

– Press Democrat, March 21 1902

The distinction of living to celebrate their golden wedding falls to the lot of comparatively few married couples. But when it comes to being married fifty years and living the half century of married life in the same community makes the distinction very unique. If both are spared to see February 21 come round such a novelty will be enjoyed by Mr. and Mrs. Sterling Taylor Coulter of Santa Rosa. Fifty years ago on that date in the old Santa Rosa, then known as the town of Franklin, Mr. and Mrs. Coulter were married, and it is hoped that when they celebrate the important occasion the honored pioneers will have the pleasure of having as their guests several of those who were among those present at their wedding day in the old town, in 1854.

– Press Democrat, February 12 1904

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ALL OUR LOST CENTENNIALS PAST

Can someone please explain why we will be celebrating Santa Rosa’s sesquicentennial on September 9, 2018? Because on that day 150 years ago, absolutely nothing happened here.

I suppose that date was selected because Sept. 9 is also Admission Day and a legal state holiday, like César Chávez Day (as Chávez was a great champion of education, it drives me nuts that we celebrate his birthday by closing libraries as well as state offices). While our 1850 statehood certainly was a noteworthy event, I seriously doubt the city was otherwise planning to throw a 178-year anniversary party.

But my gripe isn’t really with that chosen day and not particularly with the month – we could celebrate the sesquicentennial year anytime between January and December. No, it’s the year that rankles, because if you drill down to the core, we’re actually commemorating a 1968 PR event which cheered that much of historic Santa Rosa was being destroyed in the name of progress.

Before we get to 1968, some historic background is in order:

It all really started in 1854, as explained earlier in “CITY OF ROSES AND SQUATTERS.” Santa Rosa didn’t really exist as the year began; it had only two houses and five little businesses including a tavern. Yet despite its drawback of being almost non-existent, a group of men were about to make it the county seat.

After the state legislature gave approval for a vote on moving it away from Sonoma,  Julio Carrillo and the other Santa Rosa promoters invited the entire county to an epic Fourth of July party that went on all night. The election was held September 6 and Santa Rosa won. When the voting results were announced there was another BBQ feast even more riotous than the July shindig, this event supposedly lasting two days.

Afterwards the Board of Supervisors met with “the proprietors of the town of Santa Rosa” (Carrillo, Hartman, Hahman and Hoen) who promised to build a courthouse and provide spaces for county officers within two months, with everybody crowding into Carrillo’s place until then. The vote was certified by the Supervisors and the county records were moved to Santa Rosa.

There are three points to remember for the test: Nothing happened on September 9 of that year, either. Although Santa Rosa was now the county seat, it was still just the self-declared name of a crossroad settlement and not an officially recognized town. And not the least of it, there was lots’o partying by our ancestors in 1854 because they clearly believed all this was a significant event.

The other historic date was March 16, 1868, when the state approved Santa Rosa as an officially incorporated town. Here’s how Santa Rosa’s newspaper covered this milestone:

 

Sonoma Democrat notice of incorporation

 

 

That’s it – three itty-bitty lines (1½ actually) in the column of local news briefs. An item lower down the column which praised a new saloon in town, “The Snug,” was five times longer. Needless to say, there was no blowout incorporation BBQ.

Let’s zoom forward to the first big anniversary: Fifty years after Santa Rosa became the county seat.

“This is Santa Rosa’s Golden Jubilee Year – Should Have a Big Celebration,” read a Press Democrat headline in March 1904.

A fifty year anniversary is also called a “semicentennial,” and for reasons unknown there was no celebration at all; it could be because 1904 was a major election year both locally and nationally, with emotions running high. In Santa Rosa the “Old South” conservatives lost their grip on the town to Teddy Roosevelt progressives after months of shrill newspaper editorials on both sides; it seemed half the town wasn’t speaking to the other half. What we did get on the Sept. 21 anniversary was a very reliable history of the 1854 events in the PD, including a first-hand account from Jim Williamson on how the county records were moved, as explored here in “THE FABLE OF THE STOLEN COURTHOUSE.”

In March 1918 came the 50th anniversary of incorporation. No ceremony that year either, nor a single mention of it in the newspapers, as far as I can tell. They had a great excuse, however; the U.S. had entered WWI less than a year before and Santa Rosa – like every other place in the country – was preoccupied with war rallies, bond drives and all other things patriotic.

Okay, so Santa Rosa (mostly) ignored both golden jubilees in the early 20th century; I don’t think we should make too much of that, given the distractions mentioned here, plus that our society generally doesn’t put on the party hats for 50 year anniversaries. But centennials are usually a big deal, right? Right?

Thus in 1954 it was exactly one hundred years after Santa Rosa came into existence – plus hosting two legendary bacchanals, drawing its first map of the place and settling into its role as the hub of Sonoma county. All of that was memorable, and the Press Democrat offered several articles on the centennial…of the Mare Island shipyard. Not one word about their hometown’s 100 years.

Our consistent indifference to the past changed on Sept. 19, 1967, when Thomas Cox suggested, “we should make something of it” at a Flamingo Hotel luncheon. “It” would be the 1968 centennial of incorporation.

 

THIS IS SANTA ROSA’S GOLDEN JUBILEE YEAR
SHOULD HAVE A BIG CELEBRATION
ON SEPTEMBER 18, 1854, SUPERVISORS OF COUNTY DECLARED THIS THE COUNTY SEAT
Historical Year in Santa Rosa and a Brief Glimpse of the History Connected with the Change

This is a year of historic importance in Santa Rosa, it is her golden jubilee year.

Santa Rosa should in some appropriate manner celebrate September 18, 1904, that date being the golden jubilee of the city’s existence as a county seat. On September 18, 1854, fifty years ago. the Supervisors of Sonoma county met in the City of Sonoma and having canvassed the votes polled at the election held to determine the matter, officially declared that Santa Rosa was legally the county seat of Sonoma county and after this formal action the county archives were brought to Santa Rosa in a four-horse wagon, and with them came the now venerable ex-Supreme Judge McKinstry, then district judge of Sonoma.

The final event of any importance in the county of Sonoma in the year 1854 was the passage of Bennet’s bill authorizing the taking of a vote on the question of transferring the county seat from Sonoma to Santa Rosa. As the summer of that year half a century ago advanced, the fight between the partisans of the contending cities became very keen and finally the citizens of Santa Rosa made big arrangements for holding a barbecue on the Fourth of July. In speaking of the occasion the late Robert A. Thompson said;

“It was a master stroke of policy — the people came and saw, and were conquered by the beauty of the place and the hospitality of the people, who, on that occasion, killed the fatted calf and invited to the feast the rich and poor, the lame and halt and the blind — in fact everybody who had, or who could influence or control, a vote. The smoke of the sacrifice of whole sheep and huge quarters of beef ascended to heaven freighted with the prayers of the Santa Rosans to dispose the hearts and ballots of the people in their favor, and, like the pious Greeks of old on similar occasions, when the smoke had ceased to ascend and the offering was cooked to a turn, they partook of the sacrificial meat — the incense of which had tickled the nostrils, whetting at the same time their appetites and their devotion.”

At this Fourth of July barbecue some 500 people were present from all over the county and great enthusiasm prevailed. The oration was delivered by the Rev. A. A. Guernsey. The Declaration of Independence was read by James Prewett and the speakers were Joe Neville, John Robinson and Sylvester Ballou. The feast was held in an oak grove on Commodore Elliott’s place.

The Santa Rosa of half a century ago receiving the distinction of becoming the seat of government of the imperial county of the state was a far different place from what it is today. Then there was a Masonic hall, a store and two or three other buildings. Nevertheless there was great rejoicing, when on that fair eighteenth day of September the county fathers in meeting at Sonoma formally declared that Santa Rosa was to henceforth be the county seat.

At the golden jubilee celebration this year there will be a number of men gathered here who saw the transference of the county seat to Santa Rosa. It should be made a memorable occasion.

Just what form the jubilee celebration shall take will be a matter to be determined. Several prominent citizens who were seen Thursday were enthusiastically in favor of having an appropriate celebration of the day in Santa Rosa. September 18, 1854 was Santa Rosa’s and Sonoma county’s “Admission Day” into the after progress and prosperity which is hers today and which will continue. Much could be made of such a celebration and its importance would be felt as a great, attraction towards advertising the products of Sononia county.

– Press Democrat, March 25 1904

 

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courtrecordflight

THE FABLE OF THE STOLEN COURTHOUSE

It will always be a popular rip–roarin’ tale of Santa Rosa’s early days: How a few guys sneaked into the town of Sonoma, snatched the county records, then raced back to Santa Rosa amid fears that a furious mob of Sonomans were in pursuit. Unfortunately, it’s not true – well, not much, anyway.

Santa Rosa was born in 1854, or perhaps it’s more accurate to say it was declared by fiat. The previous summer Barney Hoen and his partners joined with Julio Carrillo to lay out a future town of 70 total acres – from the creek to Fifth street, from E to A street – small enough for anyone to walk across any direction in a couple of minutes or three. At the time there was only one house (Carrillo’s) and a store. It had no reason to exist, much less thrive, except for roughly being at the crossroads between Sonoma city and settlements north and west.

But in the state election of 1853 a local land squatter, James Bennett was elected to the Assembly. The only accomplishment in his single term was to pass an act in 1854 calling for a vote on what town should be the county seat, which came as a surprise to residents of Sonoma city, which had been county central since statehood. To sway county voters (who were mainly squatters), promoters of the nascent town of Santa Rosa threw a blowout Fourth of July BBQ that was said to draw 500 people, and is heavily credited with Santa Rosa winning the vote a few months later – a story told here earlier in “CITY OF ROSES AND SQUATTERS.” When the voting results were announced on September 18, Hoen and Julio Carrillo threw another beef-a-palooza even more riotous than the July shindig, this event supposedly lasting two days and involving firing an anvil one hundred times.1

(RIGHT: James R. Williamson portrait from the Press Democrat, September 21 1904)

Besides all the free meaty eats, another argument for making Santa Rosa the county seat was that the existing county courthouse in the town of Sonoma was on the verge of falling down (that old adobe actually did collapse in 1862) and had been condemned by a grand jury. Hoen et. al. promised to donate land and build a new courthouse within six months and until then court could be held at Julio’s house, in part because he also had room to store the official county record books.

And here our questionable adventure begins – those important books had to be transferred from Sonoma once Santa Rosa was officially the county seat. And the person to do that was Jim Williamson.

Today’s housing shortage in Santa Rosa pales in comparison to the lack of places to live when the town became the county seat in the autumn of 1854. As there were then only eight (or so) houses in Santa Rosa, Williamson likely still had his camp near the corner of Fourth and D streets. Jim later boasted he was “the first white man to reside on the actual site of the city,” which I hope was a clumsy joke about the Pomo village which was here and not a racist slur against Julio Carrillo, who had an actual house on Second street.2

Jim may have been living in a tent, but he did have a light spring wagon and a pair of good mules. Here’s the version of the story which appeared in the first published history of Sonoma county:


On the day appointed, Jim Williamson, with a four-horse team and wagon, accompanied by Horace Martin and some others, went down to Sonoma, captured and brought up the archives, amid dire threats of injunction and violence from the Sonoma people, who saw, with no little chagrin, the county seat slip through their fingers. The Santa Rosans had the law, wanted only possession, and would not have hesitated to use all the force necessary to get that; as it was, they captured the archives by strategy, and the dry and dusty documents of former drowsy old alcaldes were whirled over the road as fast as Jim Williamson’s four-in-hand could take them to the new capital…

That was written in 1877 by Robert A. Thompson. When it comes to evaluating the accuracy of a historic account, generally the closer an author is to that time and place, the better – which would seem particularly true in this case, as Thompson lived here and was writing after only 22 or 23 years had passed. But it turns out Jim Williamson later was interviewed and told the story himself, revealing almost nothing in Thompson’s version was true.

Thompson either made up/exaggerated details or swallowed a dramatic interpretation he might have heard told over beers at local saloons. And this is not the first time he seems to be caught writing historical fiction; it appears he also invented Chanate, the friendly Indian who supposedly discovered the bodies of Bear Flag martyrs Cowie and Fowler.

The oldest version of Jim Williamson’s ride is exciting, but mostly fiction

 

The easiest parts of Thompson’s tale to debunk are simple facts; Williamson had two mules, not a team of four horses. Thompson omits mention County Clerk Menefee who played a major role in the doings, but claims Horace Martin was an accomplice. Martin was a remarkable fellow – see extended footnote – but it’s clear he wasn’t part of this adventure.3

Then there’s Thompson’s claim of “dire threats of injunction and violence” from Sonomans who wanted to keep the records in town and that the Santa Rosans “would not have hesitated to use all the force necessary” to get away with the books. Williamson certainly had some concern there might be legal pushback (discussed below) but he never feared being chased like a survivor on The Walking Dead.

To the contrary, the editor of the Sonoma Bulletin seemed resigned, if not downright pleased to be rid of the county seat. In his first comments right after the election, A. J. Cox remarked, “The up-country people battled furiously against us, and have come out victorious…’it is as it is, and can’t be any ’tis’er,’ which incontrovertible truth consoles us, at least.” A week later, Cox added:


Last Friday the county officers with the archives left town for the new capitol amidst the exulting grin of some, and silent disapproval (frowning visages) of others. We are only sorry they did not take the courthouse along – not because it would be an ornament to Santa Rosa, but because its removal would have embellished our plaza…

The editorial continued with a mock lament that they were now going to lose the political blowhards and “country lawyers and loafers in general” who hung around the veranda of the courthouse whittling. (Other sources mention they were not whittling so much as carving stuff into the posts holding up the veranda, which might help explain why the place went to pieces.)

Thompson later backed away from his melodramatic tale. In a smaller 1884 history just about Santa Rosa he didn’t mention the “capture” at all, only that Jim was paid $16 “for getting away with the records.” Of the six local histories which were later published, only half describe something about Williamson’s wagon ride, as summarized here.4

So what’s the real story about how the county records got to Santa Rosa? According to Jim Williamson himself, the events were more comic than dramatic.

Jim’s own telling appeared September, 1904 in the Press Democrat, which followed an April article providing further details from Williamson and others involved. My summary here mixes the two sources, but everything is transcribed below so anyone can untangle the details if desired. As it turns out, only Tom Gregory’s county history came closest to being accurate. It was written while Williamson was still alive and he loved to gab about the old days, according to his PD obituary, it is quite likely Tom heard the story directly from Jim, as they both lived in Santa Rosa. But be forewarned Tom Gregory was also a serial exaggerator and unreliable historian, so the colorful additional details he provided have to be carefully swallowed.

The first Board of Supervisors meeting following the vote was to be Friday, September 22, 1854 at the courthouse in Sonoma. After an official canvass of the returns, they were to formally declare Santa Rosa as the new county seat. Daniel Davisson, a Sonoma real estate investor with his own horse stable, was asked to have a team ready to move the official records – but when word got out around town he was apparently threatened with a boycott or harm, so he declined. This likely was where historian Thompson got the idea that there might be danger lurking.

Plan B was to hire someone from out of town, so County Supervisor R. E. Smith tapped Santa Rosa’s Jim Williamson, who was not known in Sonoma City. Smith told Jim to take his wagon there the day before and keep a low profile. He hitched up his mules (named “Jim” and “Liza” per Tom Gregory) and he and the team camped that night in a creek bed outside of town.

The next day Jim walked into town and hung around the courthouse, waiting for a signal from Smith. Once the meeting was over Smith gave the sign and Williamson fetched his wagon. “The Supervisors and clerk helped to load the archives into the wagon,” Williamson later wrote. In other words, there was nothing at all sneaky about it – the records left via the front door in the middle of the afternoon. And there really weren’t that many books; Jim recalled there was only about two wheelbarrow worth.

Riding back to Santa Rosa with Jim was County Clerk N. McC. Menefee, who had a jointless peg leg. He must have lost his leg above the knee, as the artificial limb was so long he could only ride comfortably in the wagon by resting it on the top of the footrest, which meant it was sticking straight out towards the backside of the mules. “[W]hen the wagon wheels struck a chuck hole and there would be a jolt, first one and then the other mule would receive a prod from the tip on the end of his wooden leg,” Williamson wrote.

Williamson and Menefee believed there was a chance they might be stopped. After the results of the vote were known, Lilburn Boggs, the most influential man in Sonoma after General Vallejo, asked Menefee to issue a restraining order blocking the transfer – but the County Clerk demurred “on account of pressing business.” Why Boggs sought to keep the records there is not clear; he was not challenging the validity of the election. It was probably because Boggs had been Alcalde for all of Northern California during the last years of Mexican rule, and the county books included those pre-statehood court records; had Boggs planned to write his memoirs he certainly would have wanted access to his decisions from those crucial years.

Menefee thought Boggs still might seek a restraining order from the court in Napa and send the sheriff after them. If they were pursued, their plan was for Menefee to get off and hide in the brush. As no one knew Williamson, any court order would have had to name Menefee, so the plan was for Jim to claim he was alone. (Always the colorful fabulist, historian Tom Gregory claimed the handicapped Menefee “intended to take to the woods giving the injunction a run through the brush.”)

But nothing happened. The constant poking from Menefee’s wooden leg is probably why the mules made the trip back to Santa Rosa supposedly in the record time of a hundred minutes – it was considered good time for a man on horseback to travel between Sonoma and Santa Rosa in two hours.

A more realistic interpretation of what happened

 

Then just as they reached Julio Carrillo’s house and were getting ready to unload the books, “we heard the thud of a horse’s hoofs in the distance,” Jim Williamson wrote.


As the sound came nearer and nearer, we saw that the rider was Israel Brockman, the sheriff. His horse was panting furiously, and was covered with foam. We saluted the sheriff and inquired what was the occasion of his apparently fast ride from Sonoma to Santa Rosa. He replied. “I just thought that I would get over here quick and find an office so as to avoid the rush.”

And there you have it – no hot pursuit, no attempted arrest, no vigilante threats and no actual showdown over the county records. The biggest concern of the day was really about someone finding housing in Santa Rosa.

Was ever thus.

 

 


1 “Firing anvils” was a popular way to celebrate political victories in the 19th and early 20th centuries. It involved packing the indentation on an iron anvil with gunpowder and placing another anvil upside down above it. When the gunpowder was ignited, the top anvil flew into the air making a deafening boom remarkably like a cannon. It was insanely dangerous – hopefully the anvil straight up, and not arcing into a crowd – and one has to ponder what sort of reckless idiot thought of trying it in the first place. Watch a video here where a “world champion anvil shooter” launches one 200 feet in the air.

2 Jim Williamson (1830-1913) operated Santa Rosa’s main livery stable through the Civil War at the corner of Third and Main, but there’s no evidence it was yet built in September 1854. The previous year he was found growing barley on ten rented acres just east of the town plaza. Farming and camp details from “Early Recollections of Santa Rosa”, Sonoma Democrat, October 6 1877; first resident remark from “Coming Golden Jubilee in Santa Rosa Recalls Memorable Drive With the County Records,” Press Democrat, April 10 1904

3 Few in Sonoma county today will recognize the name Horace Martin but we’re all familiar with his work; he was County Surveyor 1861-1862 and a contract surveyor for the county for several years before and after. He laid out the road from Santa Rosa to Healdsburg, several roads in West County, the plat map for Bodega, and probably lots of other work we don’t know about. You’ll still sometimes see mention of maps by “H. B. Martin” in the property notices which appear in the Press Democrat. But Horace’s real talents lay in inventions. He engineered miniature steam engines to run home sewing machines and ones large enough to power the printing plant of the Sonoma Democrat. It was reported he further designed a machine for making rugs, a rain-making machine he called the “Pluviator,” San Francisco’s first hydraulic elevators in office buildings, a fast steam-driven plow called “Old Jumbo” that burned through a ton of coal a day and a “Magic Calculator,” which supposedly was particularly adapted to calculating taxes. His brother-in-law, Richard Gird, operated a stock farm called Gird & Co. on the Russian River in the 1860s before moving to Arizona. There he happened to meet a penniless prospector with a bag of rocks which he had been told were mostly lead. Gird – who had a background in assaying but was himself nearly penniless – recognized the samples actually were rich in silver. They perfected the mining claim and created the Tombstone Mining District, which became the town of Tombstone. Gird and his partners walked away with millions. (More in The San Bernardino County Sun, March 31, 1963 or an internet search for “Dick Gird”.) Gird returned to California and used his wealth to buy the Rancho Santa Ana del Chino and adjacent land in San Bernardino County, creating a 47,000 acre ranch. Horace joined him there and platted out the town of Chino. Horace B. Martin died in Chicago in 1903.

4 Notes of local history book coverage:

1877 (Thompson; Historical and Descriptive Sketch of Sonoma County, California) “On the day appointed, Jim Williamson, with a four-horse team and wagon, accompanied by Horace Martin and some others, went down to Sonoma, captured and brought up the archives, amid dire threats of injunction and violence from the Sonoma people, who saw, with no little chagrin, the county seat slip through their fingers. The Santa Rosans had the law, wanted only possession, and would not have hesitated to use all the force necessary to get that; as it was, they captured the archives by strategy, and the dry and dusty documents of former drowsy old alcaldes were whirled over the road as fast as Jim Williamson’s four-in-hand could take them to the new capital, where they safely arrived, and were deposited pro tem. in Julio Carrillo’s house, which was rented for that purpose…”

1884 (Thompson; Central Sonoma) Thompson did not mention the “capture” at all, but quotes the editorial reaction from the Sonoma Bulletin: “When the archives were finally taken the irrepressibly witty Sonoma editor gets off the following: Departed.–Last Friday the county officers with the archives left town for the new capitol amidst the exulting grin of some, and silent disapproval (frowning visages) of others. We are only sorry they did not take the Court-house along–not because it would be an ornament to Santa Rosa, but because its removal would have embellished our plaza…” Thompson continued: “Board District Attorney McNair put in a bill for $250, for helping the Supervisors to get legally out of Sonoma; he was allowed $100. The Board thought they did most of the work–at least two-thirds of it. Jim Williamson modestly put in a bill of $16, for getting away with the records, which was allowed, without a groan, as it ought to have been.”

1880 (Munro-Fraser; History of Sonoma county, including its geology, topography, mountains, valleys and streams) quotes Thompson 1877. Per the vote, Sonoma City was “feeling a presentiment of impending evil [and] were afraid to raise the issue”

1889 (Cassiday; An illustrated history of Sonoma County, California) repeats Thompson 1884

1911 (Gregory; History of Sonoma County California) Section, HOW JIM WILLIAMSON STOLE THE COURTHOUSE: By a vote of 716 to 563 the “court-house” left Sonoma, as a newspaper man of that period graphically writes, — “On Jim Williamson’s two-mule wagon.” Even with the popular decision against them the Sonoma people were loth [sic] to let the institution go, but a little head-work by N. McC. Menefee, and no little foot-work by Jim Williamson’s team of mules quietly passed the county government from the pueblo. The man and the mules also have “passed,” but their part in “the stealing of the court-house” merits honorable mention. Menefee was the county clerk, having only one leg, but he could get around rapidly. “Jim” and “Liza” were the team, but unlike the general run of mules, could, and would — and did — move with speed. By arrangement with the supervisors Williamson camped near Sonoma the night before the day of the removal, and next morning having received a quiet notification that the board had officially adopted the “move” resolution, he was at the door of the building. William Boggs and several other persons anticipating the move were trying to get out an injunction, even rushing a courier off to Napa for that purpose — but before the citizens in the vicinity were fully alive to the job, the county records, including the dusty old documents of the alcaldes, had been “rushed” aboard the wagon, and Jim and Liza were treading the “high-places” for Santa Rosa. Williamson was at the brake — which he never used in all thai wild, twenty-two mile flight, and which lasted just one hundred minutes. Menefee beside him on the spring-wagon seat, had to let his jointless artificial leg — a mere wooden stick — rest on the dash-board, the end of the “peg” only a few inches from Liza’s lively body. If she lagged ever so slightly in the mad pace she touched Menefee’s peg-leg and this would almost jump her through the collar. Dropping down into a gulch or any of the many low places of the rough road and starting to rise in the corresponding ascent Liza would not fail to get “a good punch,” and this, reports her owner, “sent the team up faster than it had come down.” Menefee expected they would be overhauled by Sheriff Israel Brockman with the writ, and he intended to take to the woods giving the injunction a run through the brush; knowing that as an official he would be sought for service of the paper, and Williamson would be left to continue the journey. Even with a wooden-leg he grittily determined to keep Brockman on the trail until Jim and Liza got home. They were not overtaken, but landed the “court-house” in Santa Rosa, — time, 4:54. Jim Williamson — everybody calls him “Jim,” is yet a citizen of the county-seat he “stole,” and the petty-larcenous character of the act in nowise detracts from his popularity. Liza and the other Jim are no more, but their famous Hundred Minute Run is a living record. District Attorney McNair for his services allowed himself $250, but the supervisors amended it to $100. Jim Williamson modestly thought $15 was enough for the mules and himself, and the board thought likewise.

1926 (Honoria Tuomey; History of Sonoma County California) No mention of the ride

1942 (Finley; History of Sonoma County, California: Its People and Its Resources) No mention of the ride

1985 (Lebaron et. al.; Santa Rosa A Nineteenth Century Town) Summarizes Thompson 1877, repeats Thompson 188. Has Williamson and Martin stealing the records at night, then riding back to Santa Rosa at daybreak “standing up in the wagon, whipping the mules, and emitting whoops of triumph.” Also claims the two-day BBQ was held to celebrate obtaining the records, not the announcement of winning the vote four days earlier.
 

Supervisor R. E. Smith employed Jim Williamson, still an honored resident of Santa Rosa Township, to go for the records. Jim hitched up a two-horse team one afternoon, went to, and through the town and camped on the other side. The next morning he drove up to the Court-house door, the records were hustled into the wagon and County Clerk Menifee on the box with Williamson, who cracked his whip, and in less time than it takes to tell it, the dusty old documents were rolling out of Sonoma…At the second meeting of the Board in Santa Rosa, Jim Williamson modestly put in a bill of sixteen dollars for getting away with the records — and the Clerk. That bill was allowed, as it ought to have been, without a groan.

– Sonoma Democrat, March 29 1884

 

Coming Golden Jubilee in Santa Rosa Recalls Memorable Drive With the County Records

In connection with Santa Rosa’s golden jubilee in September which celebrates the fiftieth anniversary as the county seat of imperial Sonoma many interesting bits of history are recollected of that memorable day half a century ago when the Board of Supervisors met in the historic town of Sonoma and after a canvass of the votes formally declared Santa Rosa to be henceforth the county seat.

There are several old pioneers residing in this county who have vivid remembrances of the stirring times circled about the making of Santa Rosa the capital city. Among this number is J. R. Williamson, who resides near this city. He is the man who handled the ribbons over the stout pair of mules who hauled the wagon carrying the county documents from Sonoma to Santa Rosa after the formal declaration of the change of county seats. It was a memorable drive across the apologies for roads leading from Sonoma to Santa Rosa of 1854. Mr. Williamson prides himself as being the first white man to reside on the actual site of the city, and the man “who stole the county seat,” as he smilingly puts it.

Some time before the canvass of the election returns in view of the bitter agitation over the removal of the county seat, Robert Smith, a brother of W. R. Smith, the pioneer Santa Rosa blacksmith, saw Mr. Williamson and arranged with him to be on hand with his wagon and team as soon as the vote was canvassed for the purpose of hurrying the county records to Santa Rosa. Mr. Williamson took his light spring wagon and span of mules and drove over to Sonoma the day before the Supervisors met. He did not go into the town as that would have been dangerous. He camped over night beside a little creek in order to avoid anybody’s suspicion as to Santa Rosa’s expectations regarding her victory.

Mr, Williamson recalls that the canvass of the election returns was held in the little adobe courthouse on the south side of the historic. Sonoma plaza. Before the meeting Smith and Williamson had agreed that the latter should be within hailing distance when the formal order should have been made by the County Fathers. The sign was to be a note from Smith to which Williamson was to get the wagon without delay.

The meeting was called and if any one hand to look from the old courthouse they would have seen a man standing outside leisurely whittling away at one of the posts supporting the porch, a favorite pastime judging from the appearance of the posts as described to a Press Democrat interviewer.

The vote was finally canvassed and Williamson got the tip and hastened to get his team. This was accomplished and in less than fifteen minutes he was at the door of the old Courthouse. Not a moment was lost as it was feared that an attempt might be made to stop the removal of the records from the old town to the new capital. All five of the Supervisors and County Clerk Menefee assisted Mr. Williamson in loading the books into the wagon. Mr. Williamson remembers that there were about two wheelbarrow loads of volumes.

Former Governor Boggs, was one of those opposed to the moving of the county records and he sought to have County Clerk Menefee to issue a restraining order to stop the taking away of the books, as he knew that they would never be returned. Mr. Menefee declined to issue any papers, “on account of pressing business,” Mr, Williamson says, and taking his seat beside Mr. Williamson in the wagon, the lash fell smartly upon the anatomy of the mules and the hurried drive to Santa Rosa with the county records was commenced.

Mr. Williamson says that they knew there was no time to lose and they fancied that in his wrath Boggs might go across into Napa county and endeavor to get the restraining order there. Both Menefee and Williamson cast their eyes behind ever and anon to see whether they were being pursued. If the restraining order was secured they knew that the Sheriff would endeavor to stop them. Menefee and Williamson planned in the event that the man of the law hove in sight that Menefee was to alight from the wagon and hide in the brush. The Sheriff did not know Williamson and Williamson was to try and bluff him out of his purpose.

The road to Santa Rosa, as stated, lay over a rough country. When the whip failed to meet with the response desired from the mules, there was another method to urge them forward. County Clerk Menefee had a wooden leg, and it was of the pegleg style. He had to let the peg rest on the dashboard of the wagon out over the backs of the mules. Consequently when the wagon lurched at every chuckhole in the road Menefee’s wooden leg served as a goad to the mules and kept them going at a breakneck speed. Mr, Williamson fifty years later cannot restrain a smile as he recalls Menefee’s pegleg goading the mules. So that a man’s wooden leg has somewhat of an important motive factor in the removal of the county records to Santa Rosa on that memorable day.

Spurred on by Menefee’s wooden prod the mules fairly flew across the country. Mr. Williamson remembers how tired he was in holding anything like a check on the animals. Santa Rosa was reached in a little over two hours. They drove direct to Julio Carrillo’s house. It had been arranged, Mr. Williamson says, as a temporary place for the keeping of the records until some other arrangements could be made. The men had not been far wrong In their guess that they would be pursued. The last of the county records had not been carried into the house when up the road, riding for dear life, his horse panting and covered with foam came the Sheriff, Isreal Brockman. If he had any papers to serve or whether he would have stopped Menefee and Williamson is a matter for conjecture. When he saw the last of the records disappear Into Carrillo’s house he explained that he had come over hurriedly to secure office room in Santa Rosa, “before the rush begun.” There were no up-to-date office buildings with electric lights and free Janitors in those days.

This Is but a glimpse of the historical significance of the golden jubilee which will be celebrated in Santa Rosa in September. Williamson and others of the pioneers who remember the incidents of fifty years ago, have enough to make an interesting novel with the central plot the removal of the county seat from the old town of Sonoma to Santa Rosa.

D. D. Davisson, the pioneer of this city, is well posted on the doings of those memorable days. He was living in Sonoma at the time and he had a number of teams. He was approached and asked if he would have a team ready to haul the county records to Santa Rosa. It had leaked out that a proposition had been made to him and he was given to understand that it would be dangerous for him and his business if he lent his team, and he did not do so. Pioneer Williamson will never forget the ride he and Menefee took or the incident connected with the pegleg.

– Press Democrat, April 10 1904

 

WILLIAMSON’S WILD RIDE
How the County Records Were Brought to This City

The accomplishment of the purport of Supervisor Fowler’s motion, namely, the removal of the archives from Sonoma to Santa Rosa, occasioned some foreboding. There were open
threats of violence from those who disliked to see the county seat removed from Sonoma, and it was also hinted that the law of injunction might be called into exercise to balk the removal of the records. It was realized that to remove the documents in safety and with success strategy would have to be employed. And so it came to pass that James R. Williamson, the well-known pioneer, whose picture appears in connection with this historical sketch, and who, still hale and hearty, resides just outside the city limits at the extension of West Third street, proved the man for the occasion. Here is Mr. Williamson’s graphic description of the task he performed.

“It was Supervisor Smith, who was by the way, a brother of William R. Smith (the latter the well known pioneer blacksmith of Santa Rosa), who importuned me to steal with the archives from Sonoma into Santa Rosa. He arranged with me to drive from Santa Rosa to Sonoma the day before the Supervisors were to pass the resolutions declaring Santa Rosa the new county seat and ordering the removal of the documents to the new seat of administration. I was to keep out of sight as much as possible until after this preliminary work had been accomplished.

“‘Jim Williamson,’ Smith said, ‘you are the only man to do this job, and do it right. When you get near the old town get around back somehow so as not to excite the suspicion of people, camp with your team somewhere for the night, and tomorrow about the time when we are in session you come up to the hall in town and be on hand where I can get a glimpse of you without delay after the act is done.’ (meaning the order for the removal of the archives). ‘When you see me give a nod in your direction, get your wagon and drive up to the door of the court house as fast as you know how.’

“Well, I hitched up the mules to the wagon and drove from Santa Rosa to Sonoma, carefully avoiding going into the town and keeping out of sight as much as possible. That night I and the mules camped in the bed of a little creek where no one could see us, a little outside of the town limits of Sonoma. It was a pretty long night. I took a coffee pot along and made some coffee. Morning came and I fed the mules and myself. I did not go up town for some time as the Board meeting was not called until 2 o’clock in the afternoon. Finally I strolled up town after I knew that the Supervisors had been in meeting for sometime, and entered the court house. There were quite a number of people around, and, seeing me there, some of them suspected that I had come on business of some sort. Supervisor Smith and one or two other members of the Board and County Clerk Menefee knew why I was on hand. I had been waiting some little time, always keeping in sight, when suddenly I looked up and saw Smith rise, and, I got the nod that I had been expecting.

“I hurried as fast as could to the camp and in a jiffy had the mules hitched to the wagon and in less than fifteen minutes I drove up to the door of the court house. The Supervisors and clerk helped to load the archives into the wagon and in less time than it takes to te11 it County Clerk Menefee was on the wagon seat beside me and we were whirling over the dry and dusty ground with the documents on tha way to Santa Rosa.”

“Menefee and I knew that we might be overtaken on the way and an effort made to force ua to give up the archives. We had planned as to what we would do in case anyone interfered. There were no roads in those days like we have today. I remember very well that Menefee had a wooden leg, and it was too long to rest in the bottom of the wagon, so he let it hang over the dash board. The wooden leg served as a goad to the mules, for when the wagon wheels struck a chuck hole and there would be a jolt, first one and then the other mule would receive a prod from the tip on the end of his wooden leg.

“Those mules made a record-breaking trip for those days from Sonoma to Santa Rosa, and luck was with us. No one interfered. Soon the old adobe in Santa Rosa hove in sight and it was not long before we pulled up in front of Julio Carrillo’s house, where it had been previously arranged the archives should be stored until Barney Hoen, Hartman and Hahman had built a court house. We had barely got out of the wagon outside Carrillo’s house, which then stood on the site of the feed mill built later by Mr. Cnopius on Second street, and which now forms the rear of two houses on Second and B streets, when we heard the thud of a horse’s hoofs in the distance. As the sound came nearer and nearer, we saw that the rider was Israel Brockman, the sheriff. His horse was panting furiously, and was covered with foam. We saluted the sheriff and inquired what was the occasion of his apparently fast ride from Sonoma to Santa Rosa. He replied. ‘I just thought that 1 would get over here quick and find an office so as to avoid the rush.’ If he had, as we believed, injunction papers to restrain the removal of the archives, he did not attempt to serve them. We carried the books into Carrillo’s house, and’ —well, that is how I brought the records from the old county seat to the new.”

– Press Democrat, September 21 1904

COUNTY SEAT OF SONOMA. — From the Bulletin we learn that in the late contest for county seat in Sonoma county, Santa Rosa proved to be the successful candidate. The Bulletin “takes on” as follows:

That’s “a gone (or going] case” from Sonoma. The up-country people battled furiously against us, and have come out victorious. What majority the new seat got we are not aware, but whatever it is, why, “it is as it is, and can’t be any “tis’er,” which incontrovertible truth consoles us, at least. By the way, the people of Santa Rosa, after being satisfied” of their success, fired one hundred guns in honor of the event — that is, an anvil supplied the place of cannon, which was “let off” one hundred times. Great country this, fenced in or not.

– Sacramento Daily Union, September 20 1854

 

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