The Autobiography of
James Horace Skinner

Part 1:

First memories

I, James H. Skinner, being in my 73rd year, deem it expedient that I write somewhat of my life, not in full, but some of the most important events thereof.

I was born on the 16th day of April, A. D. 1842, in the town of Walpole, State of New Hampshire, United States of America. Eldest son of Horace Austin Skinner and Laura Ann Farnsworth.

My earliest recollection of life is coasting down hill on the snow and ice with my Uncle Joseph, on my mothers side, as I learned in after life.

My next remembrance was the burial at sea of a party that died on our voyage to California. As I remember, the corpse was placed in a sheet or shroud, then placed on a plank, one end resting on the side of the vessel, the other held by supports, the people standing around the corpse. After the service was over, one end of the plank was raised enough to let the corpse gently slide off and disappear into the mighty and lonesome ocean, my mother holding me tight in her arms, as if in fear that I, too, might find a watery grave. Some cattle that we had on board that were intended for beef were killed by the rolling and pitching of the vessel were buried at sea. I well remember they were hoisted by block and tackle, swung over the ship's side, then dumped in the sea, food for the sharks. I have heard it often said that sharks will follow a vessel for days if there is going to be a death, either man or beast.

My next recollection was when we landed at San Juan Fernandez, where we stopped for water. This is, or was, the home of Alexander Selkirk (Robinson Crusoe). We visited the cave where it is said he made his home, with his captive and companion, his man Friday, whom he captured from the cannibals.

In the month of February, 1846 we left our home, my native land and all our friends, with Father, Mother, and a numerous lot of emigrants, we sailed in the ship Brooklyn for California. Our ship was a good staunch tub of a whaler that had been changed from a whaler to an emigrant or passenger ship, with few accommodations or conveniences. We were herded like sheep in a pen, but we made the best of it that we could. This was to be our home for a long tedious journey around Cape Horn, the furthest point of South America. We suffered all the hardships of a sea voyage, such as storms, close confinement, hardtack, sickness, heat, and sea sickness.

Around Cape Horn

Before we reached Cape Horn we encountered a terrible storm. The hatches were battened down to keep the waves that ran mountain high from down below and swamping the ship.

It seemed at times as if every minute would be our last. The ship was tumbling and rolling so that it was impossible to stand, only by holding to something firm. While the tempests were raging above we below were being tossed about like feathers in a sack. While in this condition the Good Old Captain come down among us, looking as though our last days had come. We tried to gather around and heard him say, "My friends, there is a time in our lives when it is fitting to prepare to die. That time has come to us, for I have done all I can do. Unless God intercedes, we must go down."

Someone answered and said, "Captain, we were sent to California and we shall go there."

He went back on deck saying, "These people have a faith that I have not got."

We outrode that storm in safety. Another terrible storm overtook us as we were rounding Cape Horn, but by kind providence we passed through that too, in safety, as we had a mission to perform.

A good sister Laura Goodwin, a very warm friend of our family, died and was buried on the island of San Juan Fernandez. She left seven children to be cared for. The Goodwin family and our people were always the best and closest friends, more like brothers and sisters than just friends. Brother Goodwin had a hard struggle for a time with no wife and seven children to look after and care for. One of the boys, Albert, is my neighbor as I write in 1915.

Our fare on shipboard was not of the best you can believe, consisting mostly of hardtack and salt junk, with now and then a change, as on Thursday we had apple duff. This was an extra treat to us. At times it was too rough to make even duff but as mother expressed it, we were very happy knowing that we were doing the will of the Lord, and that He would not forsake them in their hour of need. Her faith was always strong as long as she lived. She bore a strong testimony as she lay on her death bed.

We lay some three weeks becalmed under the burning sun of the tropics, not a breeze. What air we had was as if it came out of a furnace. The seas were like molten glass. The Captain ordered an awning rigged to protect the passengers from the excessive heat. There we would sit or lie panting like a lizard in Death Valley. At times a breeze would spring up perhaps half a mile away, often further away, but none for us. At times a breeze would strike us and move the ship perhaps a few miles. Oh, how happy and refreshed would the poor mortals be after their terrible suffering. It was so hot that the pitch was drawn out of the ship's seams. Oh, how the people suffered! I will leave the readers to imagine our suffering.

At last we reached our destination and haven of safety after a long and tedious voyage of six months, buffeted by wind and waves: thanking our Heavenly Father for his watchful care and mercy in bringing us safely through our many trials and dangers.

We arrived at what is now known as San Francisco, California, then known as Yerba Buena (good herb) on the last day of July 1846, to find a country then at war with Mexico; a country barren and dreary, not like the California of today. As I remember, where San Francisco now stands was covered with chaparral manzanita, poison ivy, and mesquite with very little fresh water.

The rise and fall of Sam Brannan

Before we had time to get settled, or anyway fixed to live, father and Mr. Austin, with most of the men of our company, were called to go up the Sacramento River to load the ship with redwood, hides, and tallow for her return trip home to New York. While they were gone, their families were to draw rations from the stock that was brought with them from home. But what they got was something scandalous; not enough to hardly keep life in their bodies. Not but what there was plenty for all, but the big fish got it, as they almost always have or will, and still do. The president of the company, Sam Brannan, he and his family lived high at the expense of the poor and needy, the widows and orphans. What he didn't need, he sold, which laid the foundation for wealth that he afterwards accumulated. But tribulation and sorrow overtook him in after years. For he lost his fortune, family, and friends and at last died a miserable death without a friendly white person to comfort him in his last hours. He died at Nymus in old Mexico, as I read in the papers, in an old abode hut with a dirt roof and floor, no one to help or comfort him but an Indian squaw. So perish all such. I will not tell more, the above is enough. The readers can fill out the balance; a miserable old sinner forsaken by God and man.

Soon after father and Brother Austin left, mother and Sister Austin, with their families, with what food they could get, moved to the Mission Dolores, some three miles from San Francisco to try and help make a living for themselves and children, with what they had or could get in the way of food, opened a small eating house. The Spanish women helped them what they could with milk, beef, chickens, eggs, onions, beans, etc. after they got acquainted with them and found that the Mormons were friends, not enemies. You must remember that the United States was at war with Spain (Mexico). We were right in the midst of war, but as providence would have it, there was peace around where we were, for which we were very thankful.

Off to fight the Spanish

One day I remember a company of soldiers and marines passed our place going out to fight the Spaniards who were posted on a bluff with cannon trained ready for battle. For our troops to attack them it was necessary to cross a soft piece of ground, or bog. The enemy awaited their coming.

In attempting to cross this bog they mired their horses, cannon, and men. They had a terrible time. In the meantime the enemy did not fire a shot, but looked and laughed. After wallowing around in the mud and slush all day they returned at night tired and sore. They marched out in the morning with banners flying in high spirits; marched back at night dejected. A sorry lot of troops, such is war.

Making bread

Mother and Mrs. Austin some way got hold of a bushel of mere wheat that had been threshed with horses on the ground. They cleaned and washed and dried it good, then took it to be ground.

The Spaniards had rigged up a pair of burs (millstones) that they used by hitching a mule to a sweep or pole. The women took me along to feed the mill. For the mule power, the women were the propelling power. I fed the grain. The two women turned, and hard work it was, you better believe. There were two very tired women when the job was done, but they had some good flour after it was sieved and made into bread. It would have been much better if there had been less grit mixed with it.

Bull fights

While living here (Dolores) I witnessed four or five bull fights. In fact the ring was in front of where we were living. One fight, as I well remember, the bull broke out just in front of our door. The path was packed with men, women and children. They opened a path for him to pass through. He passed close enough to me that I could have touched him. He passed through that crowd without hurting a person, but as soon as he reached the street he began to hook every person that he could get at. He was soon caught and brought back to finish his work, which was to kill a horse or two or perchance kill an Indian or two who had been made drunk for that special purpose. Blood was what they wanted to see flow. Nothing else would satisfy them. A bull fight without blood and death was not a fight. They are a cruel, treacherous people; be good to your face and stick a dagger in your back at the first good chance.

A Mr. __, a native of Russia, a very wealthy man for those days, owning lots of property in San Francisco; among the rest was the big hotel, called The City Hotel. He used to come out often to the mission with his friends and would always stop and order lunch. He was a great spender. He took quite a liking to father and mother. Father had returned from loading the ship, and offered them a good salary to take charge of the hotel and run it for him. They accepted his offer and moved back again to the city, which had grown like a mushroom by this time. While taking charge of the hotel, father bought a lot on Clay Street, and commenced to clear it off and preparing to build, father was badly poisoned by poison ivy. He build us a four or five room house which we occupied until we sold when we moved San Jose.

Fever

While we were living in the hotel I took a heavy fever and was out of my head most all the time so the nurse said. They would not let me have one drop of water. This I remember well enough, I was dying for a drink, but no, "it would kill him", so the doctor said. Oh how foolish! It took them a long time to learn many have died for want of water in better fevers.

The nurse left me for a short time. At the foot of the bed stood a bucket of water. I managed to get out of bed and to the water, and I tell you I drank my fill, but was too weak to get into bed again. It was the old kind of bedstead; tall and stout. When they found me and what I had done, they were scared almost to death. Horace would surely die! But not so. That drink was what saved him, and he soon got well again.

Mother's brother came from the states soon after we got our house finished and moved in. He remained with us, as one of the family until we moved to Utah in 1858. He and father worked together as partners. Not long before our coming to Utah he married Miss E. A. Guy, who had arrived only a few months from Australia.

My first schooling was had in San Francisco. The first and only time I ever played hooky was here. In going back to school after dinner I ran across a man with a hand organ and a monkey. That afternoon I forgot all about school in following the man and the monkey around.

San Francisco burns

I saw the city burn down some five times, besides several small fires. The first and second time it was only a tent town, as you can see most anytime in a new mining camp. Every time it burned it built up better and better. The last time the city was built up fine, many large two, three and four story houses and solid blocks with scarcely an alley between. It started about eight o'clock in the morning, a fine calm morning. In half an hour it was blowing half a gale. Oh how it swept from one street to another! It was something awful.

It is a grand and at the same time an awful sight to see a large well built city go up in smoke and flames. The only was they stopped it from catching the shipping in the bay was by going ahead of the fire and blowing up whole blocks of buildings of three or four stories. One day a three-masted brig caught fire in the bay among the shipping. As soon as possible, she was towed out and left to burn. she burned to the water's edge and floated around for several days before sinking, surrounded by water but could not put the fire out. It seems strange but it is so; so much pitch and tar that water has no effect. Before a fire was done burning I have seen parties hauling material to build with again.

In walking among the ruins after a fire, I have seen pounds of silver, gold and other metals melted together and run off in the dirt.

Peace with Mexico

I remember well when peace was signed between the United States and Mexico, as I was one of the boys that represented the twenty nine states. We were all dressed in uniforms and each carried a banner, supposed to represent the state that each was born in.

Oh, it was one of the greatest sights that a person will see in a lifetime, and once seen never to be forgotten. The first white girl born in California was our goddess and carried the Stars and Stripes. We were all in a float some ten feet from the ground drawn by six white horses. All crafts and trades were represented in the parade. We led the procession and we were back at the starting point before the last had left. After the march was over we were taken to a banquet where we were waited upon as if we were the Lord Mayor of London. We were given our costume and banners. I kept mine and brought it to Utah with me when I came.

The booming of canon, snapping of fire crackers and the shouting of the people was something long to be remembered.

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