John Frohling was born the fourteenth day of August, 1827, in Arnsberg, near Eversberg, in Schleswig Holstein, Germany. At the age of 16 years he decided to leave the roof of his father, on account of a large family. He took his flute with him and without money he made his way to a steamer which took him to America. The captain saw he was an honest boy and gave him occupation for his board. While on ship he came on deck with his flute in the evenings. The passengers admired his playing. When he reached New York he took a position in a dry good store. Every cent he spent to learn the English language and for lessons on his flute. From there he went to St. Louis, where he took regular lessons in both. He made the acquaintance of boys of music and they formed a company. Five members joined and they gave great attention to concerts in particular. After a few years they started for California in 1849. They made ten dollars each evening in San Francisco, but that did not suit John Frohling. He wanted something nearer to nature to live on. He went to Los Angeles by stage and found a vineyard. He bought it and in after years the idea came to him to found Anaheim.
Charles Frederick Eymann
Charles Frederick Eymann was born in April, on the seventeenth, in 1828, in Osnabruck, Hanover, Germany. His father was a physician and wanted him to become one also. After he left the University, he had to study physics. He studied faithfully but when it came to dissecting a corpse, it proved too much for him. He fainted and found himself in bed with nerve fever. His hair turned ash blond. When better, he decided not to follow his father's profession. Four students joined and his aunt helped him with money to go to California. The gold fever was at its height when they arrived. They joined miners to dig for the precious metal. They found plenty of quartz. They were economical with their living expenses and buried their savings, but, alas, someone had seen them, and to the surprise of the young men, the hiding place was empty. Now they managed to hide it better. After a long time they went to San Francisco and bought land on San Bruno road, two fifty vara lots, in Santa Clara, and on California street in San Francisco, between Polk and Van Ness streets, for a home site upon a hill.
The grasshoppers in 1863 made great mischief in Anaheim. My father rented the vineyard to Mr. Sutter for three years. We all went to live in San Francisco, there in my father's house. One day the door opened and I saw a man who resembled my first husband. This was C. Eymann, who was chosen to take the census. His trade was commissioner. We found interest in each other and after one year we were married on the tenth day of August, 1865. Three children blessed our union, Alma, Walter and John. When the last named was only six weeks old, I left my husband. The reason was non-support. I came to my parents and lived with them until my children were old enough to go to school. Then I moved to town. After my parents died I was chosen administratrix of their estate. I had to pay out my two sisters, which brought me in debt heavily. The vines were grubbed out and oranges were raised from seeds. It took years before a return was noticeable. That was the hardest time of my life. I said to my boys, "You raise what you can; that shall be yours. I will pay the taxes, water assessments and board. You can each go to San Francisco for a term of business college." Walter went first. When he returned, John went to college. My husband died the seventeenth day of October, 1879.
John August Eymann
John August Eymann was born the fifth day of February, 1871, in San Francisco. When he was six weeks old he came with his mother to Anaheim, where he grew to manhood. When twenty-five years of age, he received $1,800.00 from his father's estate. That gave him a start to help himself. He planted nut trees, expecting big returns, but they proved a failure. After several years, they were grubbed out. At last oranges took everyone's attention--so they came to be planted and taken care of.
On the 28th day of January, 1901, he married Miss Luisa Schumacher. In after years, on the tenth day of April, 1904, a son, Leland, appeared on the horizon. On the fifteenth of February, 1914, a daughter, Florence, was born to the happy mother and father. The work of the heavenly being--you can't help but look at it and admire it, like a comet that is seldom to be seen.
Second Installment:
The first arrivals who came down to Anaheim were my father, Phillip Hammes, my mother, my sister Olga and myself; also Mr. Behm and wife. We arrived on the steamer Senator, the harbor of old San Pedro, on the 12th day of September, 1859. The steamer had to stop three miles out in the ocean. Then came a small steamer, which took us to the nearest point. Then came a boat in which we were rowed with trouble through the breakers. Then came one Indian for each person, who grabbed us and placed us on his shoulder and waded through the water to terra firma.
As Mr. Frohling knew when we were to arrive, he came from Los Angeles with his buggy to bring me, the first white woman, to Anaheim. It took many hours until our wagon horses, trunks, harness and all small belongings were transferred to Anaheim, the same way we were; so the others arrived four hours later than Mr. Frohling and myself. Mr. Langenberger greeted us, in his little store. That was where Mr. Kohlenberger had his clothing store on Center street between the Commercial hotel and the Wilson bakery. Mrs. Langenberger gave us a cheery welcome. Her four children at that time were very small. Their names were Carola, Regina, Adelaide and Fred.
This store was the town's principal place of meeting, postoffice and Wells Fargo Express. Each letter cost ten cents to go. The steamer arrived only every two weeks. More pioneers were always expected and that brought great rejoicing.
They came and went or returned disgusted to San Francisco. The land around Anaheim did not suit them. The desert life was to a city gentleman distasteful. These people gave the vineyards to overseers and left. Some sold out. It changed hands often. People did not like the life of a hermit, hard work with desolation and no pleasure.
After two months the house of my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Hammes, was so far finished that the wedding could take place; windows and doors were not all in, as everything should have arrived but did not; so on the 24th of November, 1859, we were married in the presence of 300 self-invited guests. After the ceremony, the teams, buggies, horseback riders and all kind of farm wagons--first came my sister Olga and the pastor's daughter, two young girls of fourteen years, both dressed in white and riding on white horses. Then a friend of Mr. Frohling from Los Angeles sent us to our surprise, a carriage with two white horses and a negro driver. All drove to the unfinished building in town of Mr. Langenberger and Dryfus, where today Mr. Wilson's bakery is located. At this place we expected from Los Angeles, from Cole and Everhardy's first and only Lafayette hotel, a feast, fresh and warm at one dollar a plate.
The music for the dancing was of Spanish origin, a guitar, a violin, a fife and a drum, from Los Angeles. The funny thing was that the strings of the instruments kept breaking, but we had our share of pleasure.
The upstairs was the lodging house in which there was straw for beds. Our home was arranged likewise. All was one hall, the buggy robes were the blankets. The next day it rained and we had to provide for all a lunch. Thanks to Mr. Cole, there were enough provisions left to satisfy all. It took a long time before all returned homeward, and the handshaking would never end.
The 24th of November, our wedding day, it was too late to go home, after we danced until 12 o'clock. The next day it rained. On the 26th, we started in two wagons to Los Angeles. My husband's brother and sister and Mr. William Konig in one. My sister Olga, the late Mrs. Olga Wenzel, was on horseback. We were all by ourselves.
When we reached the down hill by Arojo Seco, a beam was stretched across the road. "What is that!" After dismounting, the Los Angeles Music Band struck up a welcome. After this a spokesman neared our buggy and delivered the message from Governor Downey. We were requested to appear the next evening in the hall for a reception. We received another sweet home tune, the beam was lifted and we were allowed to go, tired after a four hours drive home.
(to be continued)
