Book R & R: "The Summer of 1876" by Chris Wimmer

Book Recommendation and Review: The Summer of 1876: Outlaws, Lawmen, and Legends in the Season That Defined the American West by Chris Wimmer.

If you are interested in the history of the American West, this is an excellent starting point. The Battle of the Little Bighorn (Custer’s Last Stand) in Montana, Wild Bill Hickok was killed in Deadwood, South Dakota, Wyatt Earp and Bat Masterson began to earn their reputations in Dodge City, Kansans, and the James Gang experienced a disastrous attempt at a bank robbery in Northfield, Minnesota, all took place during the summer of 1876. It was the last year of the Grant administration, Bell unveiled the telephone, Mark Twain published Tom Sawyer and it was the first season of the National Baseball League. Chris Wimmer noticed that all of these events occurred in the same year and wrote a book that covers them all. Brilliant notion.

This is Wimmer’s first book, but I suspect he’s got some other writing experience. Certainly from producing the “Legends of the Old West” Podcast (that I listen to on Prime Music). I like the author’s voice. The book is easy to read and has a good pace. The major events are detailed enough to make the book educational and entertaining but doesn’t get bogged down in minute details that would slow the narrative. So rather than read Nathanial Philbrick’s The Last Stand, Tom Clavin’s Dodge City, and Wild Bill, or Mark Lee Gardner’s Shot All To Hell, (I think you get the idea), you can start by reading The Summer of 1876.

You might not think it, because so much of this blog and my books have to do with World War II, but I enjoy reading about the history of the American West. I’ve seen the era called several things: American West, Westward Expansion, or Wild West History just to name three. I was born in Fort Worth, Texas so I guess it’s in my DNA. My problem with the subject is that so much is based on folklore because of an apparent lack of primary source documents. (But as they say, if ain’t true it ought to be.) That being said, 1876 has the requisite bibliography of secondary sources if you want to read more about any of the subjects in the book.

The Summer of 1876 is an enjoyable read and an excellent work of popular history that will keep you turning the pages. Give it a read.

The Mussel Slough Tragedy

Last year I was teaching at a high school in the Central Valley of California. As you know from reading this blog, I like to find the local history in the places we live and visit. Earlier this summer I told you about the spot in the San Joaquin Valley where Murrieta was killed. Continuing with the wild west history of California, I tracked down the location of the shootout at Mussel Slough.

About five miles to the northwest of Hanford, California, in Kings County you will find California Historical Landmark #245, that is titled Location of the Famous Mussel Slough Tragedy. It's located on a country road almost indistinguishable from all of the other farm roads in the San Joaquin Valley. Don't drive too fast or you'll miss it. I believe I drove by it at least four times before I finally recognized it for what it was. The text on the monument reads: 

Here on May 11, 1880, during a dispute over land titles between settlers and railroad, a fight broke out in which seven men - two deputy U.S. marshals and five ranchers lost their lives. The legal struggle over titles was finally settled by a compromise. Location: 5833 14th Ave, between Everett and Elder Aves, 1.5 miles SE of Hardwick.

It seems like a short description (in error) for what happened here. Especially since there are no original structures left, or even a tree that witnessed the event. Here's a summary of what happened.

In the nineteenth century the area was called the mussel slough region due to a slough off of the Kings River that backed into Tulare Lake. The lake and the slough are no longer present due to modern agriculture. The Southern Pacific Railroad was granted odd numbered lots of a square mile each as an incentive to build a line through the Central Valley of California. The line through this area was completed in 1872. Settlers had come into the area and homesteaded the even numbered lots and began to create improvements such as buildings, fencing, and irrigation ditches. This included hand-dug canals to bring water from the Kings River, more than two miles away for some.

In the meantime, the railroad put out brochures to sell the land they controlled. Farmers would be able to settle on the land for a few years, then gain title when a price was fixed. Brochures from the railroad advertised prices at $2.50 per acre and up. Of course the purchasers assumed that they were getting their land at that bargain price, and set about improving the land. When it came time to complete the transaction, the railroad insisted on valuing the land with improvements, inflating their asking price to twenty dollars an acre. After the railroad filed suit against settlers and won, the price inflated again up to $35 an acre. There was also an element of rancher versus farmer in that some cattlemen who had the wherewithal were stepping front of the farmers to purchase the improved land. 

With the stage now set, on May 11, 1880 a meeting of settlers was being held when false rumors where spread that U.S. marshals were conducting evictions. The settlers grabbed their guns and went to intercept them. The truth was that a railroad appraiser, two potential buyers from the cattlemen's side, and a U.S. marshal along for protection, were driving around in a carriage looking at properties. The two belligerent parties met at the site of the monument, the homestead of one Henry Brewer. While the marshal and a leader of the group of farmers stepped off to talk about resolving the situation peacefully, the bad blood between the farmers and the two from the cattlemen's side spilled over. No one knows who shot first or even what was said to start it. But in the end, the two cowboys and five farmers were dead.

No marshals were killed despite what the marker says. Five farmers were convicted of interfering with a marshal in the performance of his duties, each spending eight months in jail and paid a $300 fine. Although there was a high level of animosity toward the railroads, the people could not get the government to change the policy of providing land grants to railroads. In the end, the railroads reduced their asking price a token amount and most of the settlers stayed on their land and paid the asking price. At the time of the incident, the dead and wounded were brought to the shade of a large oak tree on the property that was referred to as the "Tragedy Oak." It blew down in the 1990s. A piece of the tree is reportedly put on display in front of a local elementary school. Ultimately the fight was lost to history, with the exception of some local interest and fans of old west history.

The Mussel Slough Tragedy took on a bit of mythology over the years and like so many wild west gunfights there are multiple versions of what actually happened. The three that I consulted, each with a little bit different take, are the Wikipedia article on the incident, "Garden in the Sun: A History of the San Joaquin Valley 1772-1939" by William Seacrest, and "Hanford" (Images of America Series by Arcadia Publishing by Robin Roberts.

Joaquin Murrieta and Cantua Creek

Sometimes I like to complain about California's relationship to their history, in that they don't have a relationship at all. I mean sure, you have some great Spanish Missions to visit, the best in my opinion is a state park. You also have a nod (provided by the NPS) to WWII history with the Rosie the Riveter National Historic Site. But the sites of many events receive no special standing. I believe that in most cases California land is just too valuable. Some places just get plowed under for a new housing development or, in this case, maybe an orchard. Or perhaps the site is just too remote. Even in California.

CA Historical Marker #344, about
nine miles from Coalinga.

For a year I commuted from Fresno across the San Joaquin Valley to Coalinga, California. I taught social studies at the local district's continuation high school there. Every day I would pass a historical marker and one day I stopped to read it. It said:

"14 miles [with a direction arrow] Arroyo De Cantua, Headquarters of notorious bandit Joaquin Murrieta. Killed here July 25, 1853 by posse of state rangers, led by Captain Harry Love. Terrorized mining camps and stage operations during his career. Historical Landmark No. 344. Department of Public Works - Division of Highways."

Joaquin Murrieta. Well, you know who he is. Murrieta is arguably the most famous of California outlaws. He terrorized the state during the Gold Rush with lots of mythology growing over the years. For some Californios he was a Robin Hood character, avenging the Hispanic community for the wrongs brought by the invasion of Anglo-Americans. It is said that the story of Joaquin Murrieta was the inspiration for the fictional character of Zorro. To the state of California he was a ruthless bandit. The new state government raised a party of "California Rangers" to hunt Murrieta down. They caught up to him and some of his associates, including "Three Fingered Jack" at Arroyo De Cantua, or Cantua Creek. (Check the location link at the bottom of this post for a Google map link.) This spot is on the far west side of the Central Valley, the closest city being Coalinga, a community of about eighteen thousand which was not founded until almost three decades after the incident.

Murrieta and Jack were both killed in the resulting shootout with Captain Harry Love and his California Rangers. Other members of the gang were captured. But to prove they had caught the famous outlaw and collect their reward, the rangers brought Murrieta's head and Jack's severed hand, pickled in a jar of alcohol. Of course there is the requisite conspiracy theory that they got the wrong man and Joaquin escaped to continue the good fight.

So why did they put the marker 14 miles away? The state Office of Historic Preservation doesn't say. On their website they say that the actual site is three large rocks located in the foothills southwest of Cantua Creek bridge. I admit I didn't go look for them. There are no roads to the site and the area is now private ranchland. However, I provide you a picture looking southwest from the bridge over the California Aqueduct in the area on the map marked as Cantua Creek. Yep, nothing but orchards out there. High lonesome. About twenty miles to Coalinga, and fifty miles back to Fresno.

Looking southwest from the Aqueduct at Cantua Creek.

My best guess is that when the marker was placed near the intersection of highways 33 and 198, that was the nearest they could get to the site where people might actually drive by and notice. The arroyo that was the site of the shootout might have been filled in, plowed over, and planted on by California's industrial agriculture machine. Or if it is in the foothills, it is being grazed on by cattle with no way to realistically get to the site. I don't know if I'm wrong headed in this, I mean, California agriculture land is pretty valuable. I just thought there would be more attention paid to California's most notorious outlaw.

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