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The family left
Kentucky in 1847 and crossed the Missouri River on a ferry to Johnson County,
Missouri, going directly to Uncle Henry's farm. Uncle Henry had many farms and
a flour and woolen mill. He had 150 negroes and he had sheep and cattle which
the negroes tended. We stayed with Uncle Henry for a year...
In 1848 we went to Independence, Missouri, where
father was an overseer in the Stone wagon shop. They sent government supplies
to Mexico during the war. Father was a wheelwright...
When the war was over, the need for wagons
diminished, so father started west in 1849, accompanied by Uncle Colemen
Asbury. We were heartbroken when they left, knowing the danger which they would
risk. The trip was made by oxen. There was cholera on the way but they couldn't
stop to bury the dead. Scurvy was developed and father went to hunt mountain
sheep alone. In his wandering he came upon an upheaval. He found what he
thought was lead. As they were short of bullets, he took all he could carry
back to camp where they made bullets out of some of it. Father was head
carpenter for General Vallejo and after he had been there two years, sent Uncle
Coleman Asbury back with $2,000.00 to bring the family, which included six
children, and to buy supplies for the trip. The supplies were bought in
Independence. Included in our party were mother, Uncle Leach Loller, Uncle
Charles and Nancy Owens, negro Alden and the six children. Grandmother Hardin
went to Mildred's, who lived in Kansas City. When we arrived in California, we
heard that grandma, Aunt Mildred and a daughter 14 years old had died of
cholera. In making an overland group many such parites as the Hardin family
would join together for the matter of safety and protection. The captain of our
train was Colonel Caldwell, who knew the trails through experience.
We
started the first of May 1851 and had to cross the Missouri River again for
fording...
It was four and a half month from
the time we left Missouri until we landed in Sonoma City... When we reached our
place of 40 acres, we found our house had only a roof and walls up, and father
was still working for General Vallejo (who owned the grant). Father was working
for $8.00 and $10.00 per day. Gen. Vallejo had wished that father would settle
near the fort in order to protect his family. The Indians were civilized in
this region and worked for Gen. Vallejo, who was both kind and just to them.
Oats grew so high you could not see a man standing in them. Gen. Vallejo gave
father permission to take all the wild horses which he could taem, and as many
wild cattle as he could tame also. Father made a correll out of a stockade of
logs and would tie these cattle and horses...
Father soon sold our place in Sonoma to a Frenchman,
together with the unfinished house, for which he got $4,000.00 in slugs which
had eight sides. He brought it home at dusk over his shoulder in a canvas sack
which he put under the house. We were scared to death he would be robbed so the
next day he went to General Vallejo and deposited it for 360 acres of land
fifteen miles from Sonoma.
So it was that we
moved near to what is now the town of Petaluma, but was then only a barren
waste. The lumber from the trees was split and worked into condition to build
our house. Quilts were hung over the openings. It was a real struggle of brave
people living in that undeveloped section. Only winter a flood came and covered
the district between Petaluma and the hills where we lived.
We were forced to make our own coffee and flour. The
coffee was made from roasted barley. Later coffee was brought up on a supply
ship which came up Petaluma Creek from San Francisco and cost $50.00 for a
barrel. Usually mother and I drove to Sonoma 15 miles for our supplies once
each month. We left at daybreak in a buckboard wagon with "Hun" the mare to
drive. Wild Spanish cattle would sometimes follow. The horses would take them
as foes and tried to drive them off by rearing and pawing.
Coleman Asbury married a woman of Spanish descent in
Boyes Hot Springs.
Mother's mother was a
Compton...
Aunt Nancy Owen, mother's sister was
a beautiful woman.
We used to play with the
Vallejo children; they learned English and we learned Spanish. There were
fifteen children. We used to go to dances with the Vallejo girls, ant the
Vallejo adobe fort outside of Petaluma. Lib and I were the only ones old enough
to go. The Vallejo girls carried cigarettes in their corset. When we got home
mother would smell our breath and switched us. She said, "tobacco is for the
comfort of old people." I never wanted to live to be forty because that was too
old. In Kentucky and the old women used snuff...
General Vallejo had a private teacher. She taught nice
table manners. There was a private school in Sonoma taught by Joe Newell. I
wanted to go but was told, "You can get along without more education, let Lib
go instead." "We'll buy you a nice horse and saddle," mother said.
In 1853 or '54 James Fair, a 25 year old Irishman,
bought from Gen. Vallejo the 160 acres of land adjoining us. He was a happy
addition to our neighborhood and was elected constable of Vallejo township.
Chasing a brown brear on horseback was the only duty he performed in that
office. James used to spend the evening with us. He used to pass the evening
playing cards, euchre, and James would squeeze my hand under the table. That
fellow sure could love. When he went to the city he bought both myself and
Elizabeth a $5.00 leghorn hat of which we were very proud. I liked him, but
mother was very insistant with advice, 'Do not marry an Irishman.' James
suggested that we run away. However, I followed mother's advice and never
disobeyed by bringing an Irishman into the family.
When we went to camp meetings mother would stick me in
the back with her umbrella when I got to laughing.
Hoops were in vogue those days and we had to be
careful or they would fly up in front.
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