Sixty Years of California Song

by Margaret Blake Alverson

Father had returned to take charge of his store and we had moved into the only house to be found, a story and a half high with eight rooms and a canvas kitchen. We would call it a barn today, but we thought it a palace. It was originally built for a small hotel, cloth and paper on the walls and ceiling, roughened wood floors, everything of the most primitive make. The rent of it was $80 a month and it cost $1,100 to furnish it. We had matting for carpets, the most common kitchen chairs in the best room, kitchen table for a center table, and our dining table was made of two long redwood boards joined together and placed on four saw horses. Having had so much to do in making the best out of nothing in the many places before, we had not lost the art of arranging the furnishings of this house. Fortunately we did not sacrifice all of our bedding, linens and quilts. We were allowed them in the freight. The stores kept nothing but the brightest colored prints and some bright damasks for the use of the Indians who came down from the mountains and traded for such things. We could get white cotton cloth, so we were able to have curtains at the windows combined with red damask. We covered boxes with the same damask, and with castors screwed on the corners we had some very comfortable stools. Then a square of damask was properly finished off and made a table cover for the center table. When all was done we began to feel we were once more at home. There was yet something lacking. We had no piano and we were lost without the usual music that made our home so happy. Dear sister Mary, how we all pitied her. We knew she was suffering daily from homesickness, the separation from her sweetheart, the loss of her organ and piano and no companionship with musical people. Although she never murmured, we could see that her mind was where her heart was. But her duty was here. She was bravely battling day by day. We all saw it and hoped against hope to change the condition.

Finally the choir had been formed and the melodeon came. That was soon compensation for her loss. So the rehearsals began, and on the first Sunday of the month we gave the first service. We had anthems from the old Carmina Sacra and familiar hymns and our new found friends all joined the choir. It was a great service. It seemed that everybody from the pastor to the choir was inspired. Such an outpouring of men! Mother and Mrs. Woods in the congregation and five of us in the choir composed all the female portion of the congregation. The rest consisted of men of mature years and young men away from home and entering a church for the first time perhaps in this new country. When the hour arrived for service the church could hold no more. Those who could not enter stood outside the door during the whole service. The evening service was a repetition, and those who could not get into the church obtained boxes and laid boards upon them and kneeled before the windows which were opened so they could hear the sermon and the singing. It was a strange sight for the men to see women and especially young girls. The miners would come to Stockton on Saturday to frequent the resorts. Drinking and card playing formed their diversions. Many a young man turned away from the gaming table to listen to the music and hear the sermon.

We arrived in Stockton the latter part of November. 1851, and remained with Rev. James Woods until we obtained this house, where we remained two years. During that time we had formed the acquaintance of the foremost merchants, bankers and professional men. The first Thanksgiving we invited the following gentlemen to dinner: William H. Knight, Samuel Grove, William Belding, William Gray, Austin Sperry, Frederick Lux, C.V. Payton, James Harrold, William Trembly, David Trembly, James Holmes, Thomas Mosely, Charles Deering, Gilbert Claiborne, Mr. Shoenewasser, Mr. Thompson, B.W. Bours, Charles Woodman, William Cobb and Charles Greenly. Brother George still had his team of mules and the large schooner and made his regular trips from Scorpion Gulch with his friend, Fred Lux, who also was engaged in the same business. On their way down for this occasion they killed enough wild game to serve bountifully the needs for this first Thanksgiving dinner, as the usual turkey was not to be obtained. Wild geese, rabbits and squirrels were plentiful and our hearts were gladdened to see such a display. How we worked and baked and planned! By many willing hands the dinner was prepared and the guests began to arrive. Including our family, there were thirty in all. Our home had but two rooms on the first floor. A large parlor, hall and stairway faced upon the main street, and the dining room led out from the hall and was large enough to seat many guests. The kitchen was made of canvas and led into the dining room. There were three fine windows in the dining room, so it made a pleasant and cheerful place. Although everything was of the plainest sort, the long table with the white cloth and greens from the pine trees the boys had cut as they came along, and the wild flowers we had gathered and placed in bowls to grace the tables with the greens which were arranged tastefully in wreaths and festoons, gave a homelike welcome to these men who for months had not eaten a home dinner or enjoyed the society of women. As the darkness came on, we lit up the room with candles, having no other lights. We had not forgotten to bring our brass candlesticks among our household effects. Mother could not part with them, so they were carefully packed among our clothing in the trunks and served us beautifully on this occasion. They got an extra polish of whiting from sister and me, who were the decorators on this occasion, and we had to attend to the tables while mother and the older sisters made the cakes, pies and prepared the roasts and meat pies and other necessary additions for a dinner of this kind. Father, mother and the older sisters sat with the guests, and sister Sarah and I waited upon the table. As young as I was, the impression was a lasting one. Some of the gentlemen looked sad, some dignified, others joked and others related stories of home and their experiences in different places in California until the dinner was over and we adjourned to the parlor.

The dinner made such an impression that before the guests departed they had it all arranged that we were to take them all as boarders. After such a feast of things they had longed for so many months, they were not willing to go back to the old way of batching it, as they termed it. We were young and used to housework and we wanted a home of our own some day. Father consulted us and we agreed that on the following Monday they might begin to come. We were assigned our parts, and for two years we worked until we were able to secure our own house, which stands today in Stockton as one of the earlier homes and our homestead. While in this house there were times when we still longed for home and the old surroundings. Sister Mary wanted her instrument which she supposed she would never have again. Our friends, knowing this, quietly consulted father in regard to securing a piano as a birthday offering. But as Christmas Day was the date of her birth, it was too late for the year 1851. We had already entered upon the year 1852, and it would take almost a year to get a piano here, as Mr. Atwill had not imported any instruments as yet. Our friends were good business men and they immediately set about to learn if a piano could not be obtained. All this was unknown to any of us but father. William Trembly and James Harrold, while in San Francisco, inquired at the different musical stores as to arrangements to obtain a piano. Kohler & Chase did not import at that time. They dealt in notions, fancy goods and toys. They were not wholly in the music business until later in the sixties. Mr. Atwill was at the time on Washington street. He did not import largely, and when Messrs. Trembly and Harrold came to him he gladly entered into the plan to get a fine Chickering here by December 25th of 1852. The cost was to be $1,200, delivered in good order. The piano order was given, and how it came to California, whether by steamer or around the Horn, I am not able to say.

All through the year we worked early and late, and our boarders had increased until they numbered thirty-five. We could not accommodate any more. There were no amusements of any kind. We occasionally had a moonlight ride as far as I.D. Staple's ranch, where we were entertained for an hour or so, then we returned. Our rehearsals went on each week. New people were coming all the time. Mr. Grove's sisters arrived, which was another addition to our society. Mrs. George Sanderson and Mrs. John Millar came to join their husbands, who were the prominent men in business. Father had secured a lot and our home was being built, at which we rejoiced greatly, for it was difficult to work for so many people, and the lack of necessary household conveniences and of proper kitchen utensils were a great detriment. Nothing especially transpired during these months. We kept busily at our work until the season for rain was approaching. Several rough houses were built opposite, on the corner a saloon, which was an eyesore to us for it was a busy place where men drank and sometimes fought with knives. Next to our house was a one-story cottage where the family of Louis Millar lived, and a fandango house next door where they danced and played their guitars. We lived on the corner and fortunately had a sidewalk on two sides of the house, but the streets were not made and the mud and slush was dreadful. Men crossed the streets in high rubber leggings. We never pretended to go in the street at this time, everything being brought to us. We were almost as closely confined as prisoners. There was no drainage, consequently the mud remained in the streets for weeks while the rains lasted.

December was approaching and of course our thoughts turned towards Christmas and preparations for its festivities. Everybody was busy. We had much to do, for all these men were still with us. There was mince meat to make, raisins to seed, cakes and pies to bake. Everything we used came in bottles and cans. There were no fresh vegetables of any kind, excepting onions and potatoes. It was wonderful how we managed during all this time under the most trying difficulties, and yet prepared meals in such a way that our large family was always thoroughly satisfied. Sometimes we could get bananas from Mexico, cocoanuts and oranges, but not very often. Christmas eve came at last and such a busy place, no idle hands these days. Brother George and Mr. Lux brought with them two large sacks of the finest English walnuts. They were a windfall to us. We never had seen so many before. We were used to black walnuts, filberts and other nuts at home. This was the beginning of all that came to us this Christmas. It seemed that each one tried to get something we had not had before. Christmas came clear and bright, but mud was everywhere. Rubber boots were indispensable this Christmas. Dinner was served about 1:30 o'clock and everybody seemed to be in the happiest mood. It was sister Mary's birthday and we were especially attentive to her.

The dinner was over and the dessert was almost finished when a rap on the front door sounded loud and rough. Father asked Mary to go to the door as she was nearest. She obeyed and, when she had answered the knock, a teamster handed her a letter and asked if Miss Mary Kroh lived here. She replied in the affirmative, and taking the letter she glanced out of the door and saw a heavy truck with an immense box or case on it. She said, "You must be mistaken." He said, "Are you not Miss Kroh? This is for her." By this time we were getting excited and with one accord the guests arose to see the result. Father became uneasy at her long silence and came out in time to see her reel against the railing of the stairs. She had read the note and realized that her great desire had at last become a reality and her birthday had brought her the long-wished-for piano. This is what she read in the note:

"A merry Christmas and a happy birthday for Miss Mary Matilda Kroh, from her father and many friends who have appreciated her noble sacrifice of the musical environment of her Eastern home. This instrument is given as a partial compensation for her cheerful and noble performance of her duty to her parents and as full appreciation. James Harrold, C.V. Payton, Charles Greenly, David Trembly, William Cobb, Charles Deering, Gilbert Claiborne, William H. Knight, Samuel Grove, A.M. Thompson, William Gray, Thomas Mosely, William A. Trembly, Henry Kroh, James Holmes, Henry Noel, Austin Sperry, George H. Blake."