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GOLD - SALOONS - AND SCHOOLS FOR YOUNG LADIES
JOURNEYING THROUGH THE GOLDFIELDS AND DISCOVERING THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH IN NORTHERN CALIFORNIA

Trinity Cathedral
The Rev. Canon Grant S. Carey

Before I begin exploring the Episcopal Church in Northern California, I want to express my gratitude to the work done by the Reverend Charles Eldon Davis who more than 25 years ago was the Rector of Saint Paul’s Episcopal Church in Benicia. As both a priest and a fine scholar, he produced a monograph entitled “The Episcopal Church in Northern California An Overview.” Our present historiographer, also from Benicia, is the Reverend Canon John Bogart who will produce a more definitive work in the future. But in the meantime, I will rely mostly on Fr. Davis’s insights and on some perhaps un-historical facts that I have gathered during my more than fifty-year association with this Diocese. You can’t live within the Episcopal Family without sharing the stories - - and gossip - -that is a part of this wondrous institution of which we are a part.

My purpose this evening is to share what I know and what I have gleaned about the Episcopal Church in Northern California with special focus on some of its personalities, mostly, I am sorry to say, clergy, as not enough has been remembered of those tireless workers in the faith, the laymen and women, who really are the church. One thing we do have to keep in mind as we explore the Episcopal Church here in Northern California or anywhere else, for that matter, is that the Church is flesh and blood, it is the people of God, not buildings or dioceses or provinces. It is the “people,” - - in Latin is known as the “plebs sancta dei” - - the holy common people of God.

What intrigues me is that those who came out West, bringing the Episcopal Church with them, were really very simple, sincere men and women. And they came for a variety of reasons, first establishing The Episcopal Church in San Francisco in 1848 - - the year of the discovery of gold which started the rush to California from all over he world.

As many of us know, the Anglican presence in California goes back to 1579 when The Reverend Francis Fletcher, chaplain to Sir Francis Drake, celebrated a service of thanksgiving on the shore of San Francisco Bay in what today is known as Drake’s Bay. It was there that the ship’s captain and crew offered thanks for a safe journey through uncharted waters. Thus, in 1579 the words from the Book of Common Prayer were first uttered in Northern California.

When next you visit Grace cathedral in San Francisco, seek out the mural on the north wall of the nave and there you will see a handsome depiction of this event - - inaccurate, but handsome nonetheless. Gathered on shore with the boat in the background are Drake, the Reverend Master Fletcher, the ships crew (some of them at least) and a smattering of Indians - - arrayed as Aztecs! Inaccuracies aside, the paining does tell a story which was recorded, that the first thing these adventurers did was offer thanks to God. They were the first Anglican presence in what was to become Northern California.

And then there is that oft’ told story (apocryphal of course) that when it came to the church in California, the Baptists arrived in covered wagons, the Methodists followed later in stage coaches, and when the Pullman Train was invented with births and dining cars, Episcopalians arrived. I am pleased to say that this most certainly is not true!

As far as can be told, the first Episcopalians arrived by ship in 1848, a year before the Gold Rush of 1849. They made their home in El Pueblo de San Francisco, a rough Mexican settlement famous for its bay and safe harbor. It was a part of the Mexican Republic, under Mexican control, Roman Catholic, and yet seemingly tolerant of other faiths. San Francisco was already well known to sailors and had become a haven for all sorts and conditions of people. An Episcopal Clergyman with the appropriate name of Flavel S. Mines, sailing around Cape Horn, arrived in 1848. The Episcopal Board of Missions in New York had sent him as a missionary. Soon after his arrival, he gathered together the nucleus of all sorts and conditions of folk who were to become the nucleus of a congregation named Trinity Church. It was made up of “business men, soldiers, land speculators, hangers-about, and several ladies who, it was suggested in the quaintly couched language of the day, ‘were no better than they should have been.’” (Page 5, The Episcopal Church in Northern California).

Within the year, Mines was joined by another Episcopal priest, and between them, they built a small building which served as the first Episcopal Church in California, Trinity Church located today on Gough Street, one block from Van Ness Avenue. When I visited there a short while ago, I discovered that the Reverend Mr. Mines lies buried under the high altar (sadly, in what appeared to be a storage room!).

Mr. Mines (the title “father” was not commonly used by Episcopal Clergy in that day unless they were members of a religious order) - - Mr. Mines is important to us because it was he who organized the church (I am told in a blacksmith shop) in Sacramento in July 1849. He had been asked to journey up the Sacramento River and help form a congregation. But more of that later.

Shortly after Mines’ arrival in San Francisco, another Episcopal priest, The Rev. Dr. J. L. Ver Mehr, joined him. It seems that he also had been appointed by the Board of Missions to establish a church in San Francisco. Undaunted, he gathered another group of early San Franciscans and began Grace Episcopal Church. Instead of a rivalry, he and Mines became good friends and worked together to build their churches in the rough and tumble City with its notorious Barbary Coast.

It is reported that Trinity Church grew faster largely because people had a problem understanding Ver Mehr because of his heavy accent - - none-the-less, both parishes grew and after the Fire and Earthquake of 1906, Grace Church became Grace Cathedral, and Trinity continues an active parish with a strong outreach program.

Now, back the Mines: in 1849 the Episcopal Church was organized in Sacramento by the good offices of he Rev. Mr. Mines and a number of concerned laymen and no doubt lay-women meeting (I have been told) in a blacksmith’s shop in what is now Old Sacramento. I like to reflect that as Jesus was born in a manger; the Episcopal Church in Sacramento was born in a Blacksmith’s shop. I rather like this comparison for what it is worth!

The Episcopal Church in Northern California had a shaky start to say the least. There was no bishop (and how could there be an Episcopal Church without a bishop?) There were only two viable congregations in San Francisco and some mission preaching stations in other places, but few clergy with proper credentials. Still, the church was present because, as I mentioned at the beginning of this presentation, the church is the people of God gathered together. So when two or three Episcopalians gather together to say Morning or Evening prayer, there is the church. But that was soon to change so that by 1853 there were congregations and clergy in several communities who declared themselves to be faithful members of the Protestant Episcopal Church of the United States of America. And it was in that year (1853) that the House of Bishops recognized the need for a Bishop, appointing and consecrating the Reverend William Ingraham Kip as the first Bishop of California. Soon he, his wife, and son were on a boat headed toward the city by the Golden Gate. Running aground near San Diego, befriended by a Spanish land baron, and warmly received by Roman Catholics.

Arriving in San Francisco, Bishop Kip assumed the responsibility of Grace Church with a congregation described as having “twenty people with the wolf at the door.”

Shortly after his arrival, he visited Sacramento. Sailing up the river, he was welcomed by a delegation who wanted him to remain with them - - but he felt that his place was in San Francisco.

During the first few years, over ten clergymen attempted to serve Sacramento, and all had left discouraged. A massive fire had destroyed the first wooden church building, and the prospects for the church seemed bleak!

But the Bishop was a man of great energy and optimism.

Here is a quote from the Bishop’s journal relating to his first visit to Sacramento:

“Traveling is expensive in this country, either by land or water. To Sacramento the distance is 120 miles, much less than from New York to Albany. Leaving San Francisco in the afternoon, you reach Sacramento at one or two o’clock the next morning. The fare is ten dollars, a stateroom three dollars more, and supper a dollar and one half . . . after crossing the wide-spread Bay of San Francisco, we reached the entrance to two straits . . . we entered the Straits of Carquinez with the little village of Benicia (a military station) on the right side. Martinez on the other. Seven miles distance on the Napa River is another little town – Vallejo. General Vallejo, who was military governor of the country before occupation by Americans, so named these towns after is wife - - Benicia Vallejo. Senora Vallejo thus has her name perpetuated on the Coast.”

Under his leadership, Bishop Kip began the difficult task of caring for the missions established here and there throughout Northern California. Because of a lack of priests, Lay Readers were commissioned and they played a prominent role in the growth of the Church, and gradually new congregations were organized in what is now our diocese. - One of the first Episcopal congregations outside of Sacramento and Benicia (which served briefly as the State Capital) was in the village of Sonoma. There, The Rev. Dr. Ver Mehr established an Episcopal School for young Ladies. By 1857 churches were established in Folsom, Auburn, Nevada City and Grass Valley where a number of people were arriving from Cornwall in England to work in the mines. They wanted their own kind of church.

In 1856, one of the newest congregations in Sacramento was called “The Church of the Sacraments” with services conducted in the Senate Chambers! Apparently there had been a disagreement with Grace Church (precursor of Saint Paul’s) over the liturgy, fomented by the Governor of the State! Nothing more about “The Church of the Sacraments” is known, but this incident points up the fact that even then, there were differences with the Episcopal Church.

By 1871 there were sixteen priests and thirteen parishes in the far-flung region of Northern California, sufficient for the area to be designated “The Missionary District of Northern California.”

While we could learn much from our pioneers in faith, one person in particular stands out. His name was John Henry Ducachet Wingfield, who served from 1874 to 1898. Sadly, he is all but forgotten, except for his portrait, which hangs in the Diocesan Office. Yet his influence was far reaching.

The Missionary District of Northern California was organized by General Convention in 1874, comprising 24 counties and covering more than 52 thousand square miles with a population of 214 thousand of which approximately 25 thousand were Chinese and 1500 were Indians. To this challenging District the Rev Henry Ducachet Wingfield was appointed missionary Bishop.

A Southerner, Wingfield had been briefly imprisoned during the Civil War. When the Union Army invaded his town in Virginia, this Southern clergyman refused to pray publicly for President Lincoln (nor, for that matter, would he offer prayers for the President of the Confederate States.). Because he showed public disrespect for the President, he was sentenced to hard labor . . . cleaning the streets, so that he would give “ his time for the benefit of the government he had abused…” Finally through the intervention of his parishioners and his making a public oath of allegiance to the Union, he left, penniless, with his family, to Maryland where he was offered a rural parish.

Perhaps because he was a man of conviction and willing to take chances - - and also because of his intellect and physical stamina, he was appointed the first missionary bishop of Northern California. Sailing around the Horn, he and his family soon made their home Benicia where he established a school and a seminary, both of which failed over the years. But the Bishop had “true grit,” and was determined to “stay it out,” - even though he was poorly recompensed and had the responsibility of traveling throughout the northern part of the state by what ever means were available to him - - boat, stagecoach, canoe, on foot. What he discovered, … and what impressed him most … was the devotion of the lay people who struggled to keep the Episcopal Church alive and vital.

The presence of the Episcopal Church in Northern California depended very much on the presence of the Bishop. Other denominations had arrived, gathered congregations, erected buildings, and built up funds. In other words, the church had put down roots! Episcopalians who had arrived at the height of gold-fever found an unstable society. Towns grew up overnight and disappeared just as fast. With an absence of clergy, it was the laypeople that kept the church alive.

It can be said of Bishop Wingfield that in spite of invitations to return to more civilized parts of the country, he chose to remain in Benicia in spite of all his difficulties and financial problems. He was a faithful Churchman, devoted to his charge.

The great tragedy of his life, a turning point from which he never recovered, was the murder of his teenage son. The boy was shot to death by his best friend whose father was Benicia’s “leading citizen;” its judge, mayor and town’s banker. The boys had disputed over school grades, the judges’ son feeling that the Bishop’s son had been given an advantage. Shortly after this incident, Bishop Wingfield suffered a stroke and died.

The third person I want us to consider is the first Bishop of the Diocese of Sacramento, which, later, was renamed The Diocese of Northern California. His name was: William Hall Moreland, and with his arrival in 1898, things began to change for the better.

William Moreland was the rector of Saint Luke’s Church in San Francisco and he knew the territory. Like Wingfield, Moreland was a gentleman of the Old South. He had a fine education, and was widely admired as a preacher and a skilled teacher.

When he arrived as bishop of Northern California in 1899, there were 21 congregations and 24 resident priests, yet he faced a daunting task as he related later:

“My job was to create a diocese. We called ourselves an Episcopal Church, but we were a scattered collection of parochial units. How could we build together these isolated churches into a living corporate body, conscious of their fellowship, abounding in good works and missionary zeal.”

While Bishop Moreland may be credited for providing the Episcopal Church in Northern California a firm foundation and an awareness of its true identity, he faced some daunting problems. One had to do with just was how far flung his diocese was. Yet he took delight in the fact that he had to make use of every mode of transport available for covering the territory:

He wrote: “… It was enjoyable to whirl over the mountains in the horse stages. It used to be thrilling to shoot the rapids of the Trinity and Klamath Rivers in an Indian canoe. My successor will travel by motor car, more rapidly, but not without equal relish…”

One amusing incident during his early episcopate was that he had ecclesiastical charges brought against him by the disgruntled rector of the church in Vallejo for “conduct unbecoming a man of the cloth. He had played lawn tennis in public.

Fortunately, the good bishop was not brought to trial on this most serious offence.

For us, one Moreland’s far-reaching contributions were his vision for an Episcopal Cathedral to be established in the capitol of the State of California.

But before that was to happen, he knew he had to establish his Episcopal presence in the capital of the State of California.

He constructed his Episcopal residence on the corner Capitol Avenue and 26th Street. It was a grand house similar to others that still may be found on the Avenue. If nothing else, it proclaimed the presence of the bishop. Next, he moved a congregation that had newly established a few blocks away on K Street, “Saint Andrew’s Mission, and located it temporally on to 26th (near what is now Trinity Cathedral Lane). A short while later, a new church was built next to the Bishop’s House named Trinity Church. A few years later it became Trinity pro-Cathedral - - that is, it was designated a parish church that served as “the bishop’s church.” As a matter of information, the word “Cathedral” comes from he Latin word “cathedra, in reference to “the bishops chair” that symbolizes a bishop’s teaching ministry since, from olden times, teachers taught seated. (This, by the way, is why there are “chairs” of departments in colleges and universities.)

Certain laymen, however, felt that a real cathedral would command too much influence that would in some way diminish the smaller churches in the diocese, and so, for years there was powerful lay opposition to building a true Cathedral. Such feeling persisted throughout the next fifty years, frustrating the bishop’s desire to construct a cathedral worthy of the Capital of the State of California. It wasn’t until after his death that the present cathedral building was constructed in 1954.

In the year 1911, The Missionary District of Northern California became The Diocese of Sacramento, fulfilling one of the Bishops most ardent dreams.

During his tenure, he encouraged positive work among the California Indians (who were not generally accepted by the State government) and he also found ways to minister to the growing number of Japanese residents.

With the coming of the next Bishop, Archie William Noel Porter in 1933, the story of the Episcopal Church in Northern California had moved from the rough and tumble life of the Gold Rush, the Victorian Era, the First World War and the Great Depression; it had traveled from stage coach to automobile and to airplane- - and it was prepared to meet the challenges of the New Age that lay ahead. Peopled marveled that their new Bishop drove his own motor car - - all by himself!

There is much more to the story and perhaps I may tell it next year - - the remarkable life of Noel Porter who steered the diocese through the great depression and the second World War, the building of the present Trinity Cathedral, the commanding presence of Bishop Haden, the controversies caused during the Vietnam War, civil rights, the new prayer book, the ordination of women, and the Churche’s present crisis of Anglican identity! The story of the Church is not told entirely in the past tense!

There is nothing about the Episcopal Church that is dull; we are not, as had been said of us, “The Republican Party at Prayer.” We have a future and a role to play that is growing more obvious to me as we move through the uncharted waters of this new century. And that is because we might prefer to remain still, we are compelled like the Children of Abraham, to move ever onward, not content to remain static. This we can see in the lives and adventures of the pioneers of faith we met this evening.

As I indicated at the beginning of my talk this evening, the story of the Church is the story of everyday people - - not just the clergy - - but all those who work, pray and give together in order to share God’s grace through that wonderful community we share together, the Church.

Perhaps some day in the future - - a hundred years from now, someone representing Trinity Cathedral will tell about the Episcopal Church in this diocese in the 21st Century, recounting stories about us and our part in spreading God’s Kingdom.

There is no conclusion to this story - - and what is really exciting is that you and I are part of the adventure.

The Rev’d Canon Grant S. Carey
Trinity Cathedral, Sacramento CA
August 30, 2007