Editor’s note: Anna Morrison Reed published accounts of her three trips to Humboldt County in her magazine, The Northern Crown, of May 1917. The text of the article has been made available by John E. Keller, her grandson, a resident of Lafayette, Calif., who published it in a book, Anna Morrison Reed, 1849-1921. This item covers his grandmother’s trip in 1872.

— The Humboldt Historian

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In the beautiful days of late spring, vocal with song of bird, and the murmur of running water, it was once the writer’s privilege to travel horseback over the old government trail from Cahto, Mendocino County, to Hydesville, in Humboldt.

Only a schoolgirl then, that imperative duty had called her from her books at Mrs. Perry’s Seminary in Sacramento, to a more active field of endeavor, and accompanied by her brother, only thirteen years of age, these two intrepid youngsters made this trip overland in the year of the Modoc War.

Much of the way was through an unbroken forest, where the curse of the ax and the blight of fire had not yet fallen.

Where the clean copper-brown boles of the giant trees, made a columned way for the riders, fern-fringed, and flower-bordered and fragrant with a thousand green, growing, blossoming things.

And through the more sacred hush of the greater silence of the denser woods, until the leaf-filtered sunlight seemed to fall through aisles of grandeur most sublime, where had echoed the anthem of the wind harps through ages of living song.

The start was made from Willits, then called Little Lake, later Willitsville, and now Willits, on May 4, 1872.

Anna M. Reed, in an author’s photo from an 1896 book of poetry. Public domain.

We had bought two horses for the trip from a blacksmith named Cameron, a bay horse of rather ungainly build and awkward gait, for Eddie, my brother, and a little white mare, neat and sure-footed for myself. Alex Montgomery, editor and owner of the “Mendocino-Democrat” at Ukiah, had given me a black leather side saddle, and Mart Baechtel, of Little Lake, sold us a boy’s saddle for Eddie. As we took no pack animal for baggage, I left my trunk, guitar and other belongings at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Baechtel, of Little Lake, and packing things absolutely in an old fashioned carpet sack, to hang on the horn of my saddle and a corresponding bundle to tie behind Eddie’s saddle, we started in good shape, and lightweight on the morning of the 4th of May.

Jim Burger, a well known stock buyer, at the time, rode out a few miles with us, giving us directions and warnings about the route we were taking.

We arrived at the Cahto Hotel, 24 miles from Little Lake, late in the afternoon, tired and hungry and were welcomed and refreshed by the hospitality for which Robert White and his wife were famed and took a good night’s rest for an early start in the morning.

On Sunday, May 5th, got away from Cahto in good season for the 25-mile ride to Blue Rock. Ezra Simpson, a brother of Mrs. Robert White, rode with us as far as the Pine Woods, in Long Valley, to see us safely on the trail.

Our way was over broken country steep and rugged, and it was after sundown when we reached Blue Rock. We were made comfortable by the family of Mr. Davidson, the brother of Joe Davidson, who was the mail carrier on the route. My last recollection of that evening, was that I went to sleep in the room ‘ with Mrs. Davidson and several little Davidsons while my brother Eddie was relegated to the stockmen’s quarters near the barn and corral.

Our next day’s ride brought us to Center Station, 34 miles from Blue Rock. We had ridden all day against a north wind, with occasional showers of cold rain and sleet, this day being the only bad weather encountered on the trip.

Center Station was a small log hut, where a boy whose name I have forgotten stayed to look after the horses for the mail carrier. The evening that we arrived the usual week’s supplies had not come in, and the sum total of provisions on hand were three withered potatoes, an empty flour sack, an onion and a slice of fat pork. Out of the vegetables and pork I made a stew, and shook the flour sack for enough flour to thicken it, and we fared sumptuously. After the collation we retired. The sleeping accommodations were two bunks, one above the other, and several gray blankets, but no mattresses. Eddie and the boy took the upper bunk and I the lower, which was harder than any board on which a Monk had ever done penance, and through a wide chink in the wall of the cabin the wind blew against my head all night. The next morning the supplies arrived, and we had a cup of black coffee before starting.

On May 7th, we only rode as far as Elk Prairie, 20 miles from Center Station. The trading post and stopping place at Elk Prairie, was kept by Ferris & Carroll. John Ferris, who impressed me as a university man, anyway a scholar and gentleman, had an Indian wife who cooked vension to perfection. We were very tired and hungry and the meal was delicious. In the large living room were two beds, in opposite corners and in front an immense fireplace, filled with generous logs. The flame lighted the room for ordinary purposes. After supper Eddie and I were assigned to one bed, the Indian wife of Ferris and another Indian woman took possession of the other, and presently, when all were still and presumably sleeping, Mr. Ferris and a little Indian boy about 8 years old came in quietly and laid down before the fire, covered by a blanket, and slept until early morn.

Reached Hydesville on the evening of May 8th, very tired. The trip along the river bottom lands after leaving Elk Prairie, was undescribably delightful. The trail ran under the giant redwood trees through light and shadow, and fragrance of the morning. Had we known that lurking near us was a band of marauding Indians intent on mischief, we might not have so thoroughly enjoyed the way. But such was the case, as witness the following letter from Judge Wyman, editor of the Humboldt Times, which appears here.

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J.E. Wyman. Photo via the Humboldt Historian.

Editorial Correspondence

San Francisco, May 13th, 1872

DEAR TIMES.—As you know I left Eureka on the afternoon of Wednesday, the 8th, instant, for San Francisco, overland, and believe a few lines concerning my trip will be acceptable. I sit down to write.

In company with Frank Farley I left Eureka for Hydesville, when after a speedy and pleasant ride in one of Messrs. Bullard & Sweasey’s turnouts, we arrived, stopping at Boynton Cheney’s hotel. During the evening I was favored with an introduction to Miss Anna Morrison, the accomplished and talented lecturess in whose company I spent an hour or two very agreeably. Knowing that before this time she has fully acquainted the people of Humboldt County with her views upon the declaration of principles as enunciated in the “Woodhull & Clafflin” platform. I will only add that her head is eminently “square” upon the question of “Woman Suffrage,” and it is to be hoped that she will meet with the cordial reception she certainly merits.

At half past four on Thursday morning a summons at the door warned me to prepare for a start. Got up and partook of breakfast which was in waiting, after which, at a quarter past five, in company with that “prince of good fellows,” Mr. Joe Davidson, the mail rider, the start was made. “Old Ben,” the animal provided for me by Messrs. Bullard & Sweasey, a veteran on the route, was the right “horse” in the right place, for he manifested a great aversion to being behind, always needed checking rather than urging. We were not long on the way before we struck the “Long Valley Wagon Road”—save the mark! I will only digress so far as to suggest the Board of Supervisors constitute themselves into a committee of three, for the purpose of “interviewing” that institution before authorizing the expenditure of any more of the public moneys after the style in which it has been laid out there.

At twelve o’clock we reached the opening at Camp Grant, on Eel River. Here we had quite a little “scare.” As we came to the bank of the river a woman — her name I do not remember — having a young child in her arms and two or three larger ones, came running towards us, from one of the houses on the campgrounds, screaming as she ran. When she had recovered her breath sufficiently, she answered our inquiries as to what was the matter.

She said that while absent from her home with her children a short time between nine and ten o ‘clock, gathering berries, the Indians had been there and robbed it of everything in it of value, including a small sum of money, and utterly destroyed whatever remained that they did not want to carry away. The husband of the woman was away, and she had been shouting from the bank of the river for two hours to alarm Mr. Dobbyns, who lives directly opposite and keeps the ferry, and have him come over with the boat to her assistance, but she could make no one hear, and she had come to the conclusion that Mr. Dobbyns and his family had all been murdered. It is the custom of the mail riders, by shouting, to notify the ferryman of their arrival and desire to cross. Mr. Davidson had already done this as we approached the river. After hearing the woman’s story he commenced shouting again and did so several times, receiving no answer.

We began to think something was indeed wrong, and Mr. Davidson was about to alarm some ranchmen down the river, but before doing so he sent forth another yell that went echoing in the distant hillsides. This brought the anxiously sought Dobbyns, and the suspense was soon over. We crossed the ferry, took dinner while the mail was being changed, and at one o’clock were again on our way. As we left, a few of the residents near the ferry were preparing to go in search of the Indians.

The family referred to are poor and by this depredation lose everything in the world they have. At three o’clock we reached Elk Prairie, changed animals and at half past three again started, and arrived at Center Station, a distance of fifty-five miles from, Hydesville, at a quarter past seven.

On Friday morning at six o’clock my journey resumed, but with new company. I had been obliged to part with “Old Ben,” and soon found that I had suffered by the change, but will not stop to say wherein.

Our road now lay pretty well up in the world, and was enveloped in a fog so dense that we could scarcely see a hundred feet distant, which made the ride at this early hour anything but comfortable or agreeable. Occasionally the high points over which the trail passed would reach above the fog, giving them the appearance of small islands amid a vast ocean of waters. At twelve o’clock we reached Blue Rock Station, twenty-eight miles from Center Station, where we took dinner and changed animals. At one o’clock started for Cahto, distance twenty-two miles, which we reached in the evening at six. At Bob White’s, where man and beast were kindly cared for, we took two square meals and a good night’s rest, which about this time were greatly appreciated by your humble servant.

On Saturday morning I jumped aboard the stage and whirled along over hill and down dale, up and down grades, through Sherwood Valley, Little Lake, Calpella to Ukiah, a distance of forty-five miles, where we arrived at 5 p.m.

The next morning, Sunday, at six o’clock, we got aboard a fine new Concord coach, drawn by four horses and, driven by Mr. Wm. H. force, our mail contractor, and having in all “only” twelve passengers for a load; passed through villages of Sanel, fifteen miles from Ukiah, thence to Cloverdale, sixteen miles further, where we arrived at one p.m. Got dinner and went on board one of the cars bound for Donohue, which left at two p.m. Passed through Healdsburg, 17 miles from Cloverdale, Santa Rosa, sixteen miles from, Healdsburg, Petaluma, sixteen miles from Santa Rosa, arriving at Donohue, six miles from Petaluma, at half past four. Thence we transferred to the steamer “Antelope,” which shortly left, arriving in San Francisco, at quarter before eight in the evening. Thus you see that I have made the trip through from Eureka to San Francisco, a distance of three hundred and twenty-six miles, in four days and five hours, including the four night’s stoppages.

I have no time to write further.

W. (Judge Wyman)

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Part of the trail ran over Uncle Sam Mountain, and it was steep and narrow, with insecure bridges over deep, rough waterways.

Eddie’s horse fell with him, an accident that was nearly serious, as his foot was caught in the stirrup, but my little mare stepped over the trail as sure-footed as a goat.

Mrs. Cheney, wife of the proprietor of the hotel at Hydesville, was very motherly and kind to the two wanderers, and after supper I was introduced to Judge Wyman, editor and proprietor of the Humboldt Times. He publishes at Eureka, who was on his way to San Francisco, overland. He is a kind and intelligent gentleman. A guitar was secured, and I played and sang and learned a new song from a young man whose name I do not remember. The song “I’m as Happy as the Day is Long,” was very sweet, and just suited my mood and I forgot the fatigue of the long unusual trip, knowing that I could rest for a day or so and get in trim to lecture and earn the money so needed.

On May the 9th I rested nearly all day, but we took a short drive with Mrs. Cheney, to look at Hydesville and its surroundings. Also made arrangements to lecture on the next evening.

May 10th, I lectured in the church to a good audience. My collection was $15. The following evening lectured in the same place, collecting $10.

On May the 13th, we went to Rohnerville, having forwarded an announcement of my lecture there. I spoke in Strong’s Hall, was introduced by Dr. Dorr, who I met sometime before in Trinity County. My collection was $20. Lectured there the next evening, having a collection of $16.

I sent announcements to Ferndale and lectured there on the evenings of the 15th and 16th, collecting $21.25.

We reached Eureka on the 17th of May. Stopped at Hogaboom’s hotel and arranged for a lecture at Ryan’s hall on the next evening, where I spoke to an overflowing house. My collection was $42.00. The Humboldt Times said this, among other things, of my lecture:

Her lectures are interesting throughout, and we see in Miss Morrison the elements of a first-class lecturess.

Her manner is pleasing, her language is good, and modesty marks the entire discourse.

She will deliver her farewell lecture on Saturday evening. May 25th, at Ryan’s Hall, which will doubtless be both instructive and interesting, and on which occasion the Eureka Brass Band will be in attendance.

We are requested to state that Miss Morrison will lecture at Arcata on Monday and Tuesday evenings, and at Trinidad on Saturday and Sunday evenings, of next week, and it is with pleasure that we commend her to these communities.

I lectured at Ryan’s Hall, as announced, on May 25th, and my receipts were $40.25. I had also spoken on the 22nd, collecting $30.25.

The following is the testimonial given me by the citizens of Eureka, upon the occasion of my benefit lecture

Having listened with pleasure to the lecture delivered by Miss Anna M. Morrison in Eureka, and recognizing her ability and the worthy object she has in view in her public addresses, we cheerfully unite in the expression of hope for her future success and bespeak for her a full house on Saturday evening, on the occasion of her lecture as announced, upon the subject of “Moral and Social Reform.

Signed: Joseph Russ, W.H. Havens, J. Carr, C.T. Roberts, David E. Gordon, John T. Young, C.H. Heney, Capt. E. Tomilson, Wm. H. Pratt, Dr. D.U. Lindsay, J.E. Wyman, J.W. Henderson, John Kelcher, T. Walsh, M.H. Mooney, A.G. Brown, C.T. McKay, John Miller, P.H. Ryan, F.A. Week, N. Bullock, B.L. Wait, Chas. W. Long, J.E. Hitchborn, W.B. Thorpe.

Eureka, May 24, 1872.

The Humboldt Times also said:

We bespeak for her a full house. The object she has in view is a noble one, which is the purpose of obtaining means to assist in supporting her father’s family and to complete her own education.

After lecturing at Arcata and Trinidad, on May 27, 28, 29 and 31, collecting for the four lectures $91.12, we returned to Eureka to prepare for our journey to Crescent City. Our adventurous trip to that place will be described in another article.

The observations and experiences of this trip left a deep impression of the beauty, resources and possibilities of Humboldt, which was expressed in the following tribute written sometime after I left the county:

HUMBOLDT
by Anna M. Reed

The mem’ry of thy sunny vales
sleeps in my heart;
Where berries gleamed in golden heat
Beneath June’s softly ling’ring feet;
Where, on the summers slumb’rous breast
The Winds the yielding days caressed.

Thy blossoms, wet with fragrant dew,
have brushed my cheek;
While wandering in the woods along,
I heard the birds’ exquisite song;
And marveled not that life should seem
So like a sweet, delicious dream.

From streams of water cold and pure,
my lips have quaffed;
Where, in the forest dark and deep.
The somber shadows seem to sleep;
Where pallid lilies bloom and die.
Denied the radiance of the sky.

My wond’ring feet went o’er thy hills
in sweet content;
That destiny to me assigned
A pleasant task of heart and mind;
And led me, for a little while.
Beneath the blessing of thy smile.

The glorious promise of thy years
Spoke to my soul;
And in the future thou shalt meet
A grand fruition proud and sweet;
And bloom untouched by blight or ban,
A country blessed by God and man.