Tucson Turns 200

For more years than anyone is likely to remember, those given to literary play have been alluding to Tucson as the "ancient and honorable pueblo" Just how "honorable" she might be is anyone's guess. With "ancient," however, it's another matter. There's no question about it. Tucson was exactly two hundred years old on August 20, 1975, and that's official.

For five August days her citizens helped Tucson celebrate her 200th birthday, touching off a year-long commemoration that will, incidentally, embrace the nation's bicentennial. It was one grand fiesta, bringing together cultural elements from the city's sometimes turbulent past, and centering on the traditions of a place that even today, proudly retains the flavor of its Indian, Spanish, Mexican and Anglo heritage.

But why August 20th? What happened on that day two centuries ago that would give cause to single it out as Tucson's natal day?

Well, it was on that date in 1775, that a 40-year-old red-haired Irishman, while stopping at the Mission of San Xavier del Bac, wrote a letter to the Viceroy of New Spain, suggesting that the company of the presidio at Tubac be relocated at a place known as "San Augustin de Toixon." The Dublin-born Don Hugo O'Conor, serving as an infantry colonel in the army of his adopted Spain and as commanding inspector of the frontier forts of New Spain, chose the site "because the requisite conditions of water, pasture and wood occur, as well as a perfect closing of the Apache frontier!" Viceroy Antonio Maria Bucareli y Ursua acted favorably upon Don Hugo's suggestion, and the move to Tucson was likely accomplished in 1776.

Acceptance of August 20, 1775 as the date for the historical founding of what is now the City of Tucson, was made official by the Tucson City Council in February 1972, acting on recommendations of a 24-member Tucson Birthday Committee, which had spent well over a year studying the community's earliest history.

Yet O'Conor was not the first to find the site ideal for habitation. There is solid archaeological evidence that prehistoric Indians lived in the area for perhaps 1,000 years before Don Hugo chose it as the location for the new presidio.

And on his way to the Gila River, the venerable Jesuit, Father Eusebio Francisco Kino had passed through the Indian settlements of the Tucson area as early as 1694. Five years later Kino named the Indian village San Cosme del Tucson, making it a visita, or satellite of the Mission San Xavier del Bac, to be visited periodically by priests from the mission.

In the years that followed, other padres came to the place and built their chapels and missions, and on the west bank of the Rio Santa Cruz, soldiers constructed a small earthen fortification at the base of Sentinel Peak, now better known as "A" Mountain. But not until Lt. Juan Maria de Oliva led the Spanish troops up from Tubac early in 1776 to establish the royal presidio as suggested by O'Conor, was there a permanent European settlement of any consequence at Tucson.

After a temporary forta palisade of rough logs was built, construction was begun on the permanent presidio. Twice during the years of building, Apaches threatened the Spanish stock-ade. On November 6, 1779, a force of Indians estimated at about 350 was turned away by soldiers in a brief encounter. A larger party of Apaches laid siege to the unfinished fortification on May 1, 1782, but withdrew when Spanish firepower proved to be too great. Perhaps spurred on by the May Day attack, construction on the presidio's walls and dwellings was virtually completed the next year.

Early administrative reports showed 36 settlers living at Tucson in 1804 and by 1819 the number had increased to 62. A more detailed census of Tucson was the work of Fray Pedro Antonio de Arriquibar, who was chaplain of the presidio for a quarter-century. According to the aging padre's 1820 tabulation, there were 395 parishioners under his care. Included among them were 102 men under arms, all but 27 of whom were married and had their families living with them. The census also listed 79 Spanish settlers living in Tucson at the time, as well as 19 servants.

Presidial Tucson was bounded roughly by present day Washington and Pennington streets and Main and Church avenues, with each of the four walls being about 750 feet long and 10 or 12 feet in height. Its single gateway was in the west (Main Avenue) wall, not far from where Alameda Street intersects Main. Within the adobe walls were barracks for the soldiers, the military chapel of San Agustin, a well, cemeteries, stables, a granary, three plazas and a number of windowless dwelling places. Most of the buildings were constructed against the outside walls, their roofs sloping down toward the plazas. Just outside the walls, not far beyond the single gate of solid mesquite, animals grazed and fields were farmed. For the Spanish soldier garrisoned at Tucson, life was simple, though certainly not easy. Routine consisted largely of construction work on the presidio, guarding of herd and settler, and occasional sorties beyond the walled community to do battle with the Apache.

There was little immediate change in the fortified village of Tucson as Mexico gained independence from Spain in 1821. In time no one today knows the exact date the Spanish flag was lowered for the last time and that of Mexico was unfurled over Tucson. Military and civilian residents were required to take an oath, swearing to be "obedient to the Catholic faith, to preserve the independence of Mexico, and to work to achieve peace and harmony between natives and Europeans"

During the years of Mexican rule the people of Tucson apparently exhibited far more interest in the bitter day-to-day struggle for survival on the northern frontier, than in the political maneuvering and struggles for power far removed to the south. Tucson's garrison seemed never to be at full strength and often funds were short, as the central government all but ignored the walled village in remote upper Sonora. There were continuing problems with Apaches and there were difficulties too, with the usually friendly Pima and Papago Indians, and many residents fled Tucson and Sonora for safer places.

It was during the Mexican War, on December 17, 1846, that the American flag was raised briefly for the first time over Tucson or any place in whatwas to become Arizona.

Capt. (later Lt. Col.) Philip St. George Cooke was commander of the Mormon Battalion, which was blazing a southern wagon trail from Santa Fe to Cali-fornia. As the column of some 340 troops approached the Mexican town of Tucson, Cooke sent riders ahead to inform the commandant that the Americans "came as friends," wishing only to purchase provisions.

Rather than face the humiliation of surrender, Antonio Coman-duran, the Mexican commander, chose instead to discreetly withdraw his small garrison from the town, with all but about 100 of the citizens following the troops. So it was that without firing a shot, the Mormon Battalion "took" the walled presidio. One account suggests that a member of Cooke's command was ordered to raise the Stars and Stripes. The soldier secured the flag to a tent pole, climbed with it onto a housetop and then up into the southwest tower of the adobe wall (approximately at the corner of Pennington and Main) and there in-serted the makeshift staff in the mouth of a permanently mounted cannon. And there waved Old Glory until the following day when the column continued its westward march.

Not for a decade was the American flag to be unfurled again over Tucson. The Gadsden Purchase, which became effective in June 1854, brought Tucson into the United States, but it wasn't until March 1856 that American troops showed up to take possession of the

Following an April skirmish at Picacho Pass (north of Tucson) between an advance guard of Carleton's Californians and scouts from Hunter's Confederate force the only Civil War battle to be fought in Arizona Hunter withdrew his men from Tucson and headed east. On May 20, 1862, Carleton retook the town for the Union, placing it under martial law. Once again the Stars and Stripes flew over Tucson. It was Carleton, too, who was credited with restoring some degree of law and order to the desert community. A military force was located at Camp Tucson, in what is now a downtown area of the city. Later a permanent post would be established in the same place, and it would be called Camp Lowell. Still later it would be moved some miles northeast of town and redesignated Fort Lowell. With the Apaches no longer a threat, the fort was abandoned by the army in 1891.

It was on February 24, 1863, that President Lincoln signed the document separating Arizona from New Mexico, and at the same time giving Arizona territorial status. Prescott was chosen as Arizona's first territorial capital, but in 1867 it was moved to Tucson, where it was to remain for a decade. The capitol itself had formerly served as a warehouse, and was owned by the freighters and merchants, Tully, Ochoa & DeLong & Co. Behind the building was the army quartermaster's corral, and in order to be heard, legislators had to compete with the noises of mules and horses, the creaking of massive freight wagons, and the spicy patois of 'skinners and bullwhackers at work.

As Tucson approached the close of her first century, she was a community of something more than 3,000 souls. Her avenues were narrow, unpaved and meandered with little reason, seeming always to be strewn with rubbish. In dry weather her streets were thick with powdery dust, and when the desert rains came, the mud was ankle deep. A dismal, dreary town whose flavor was more Mexican in character than it was American, Tucson was often described by her visitors as being a sleepylittle village. Yet it was at the same time a lively place, serving as the seat of territorial government, a center of commerce, a military supply depot and a hub of mining, ranching and farming activity.

Of saloons there was no dearth, and Tucson could boast too, of a number of establishments that dealt in general merchandise. There was a barber shop, newspapers, a new Pima County Court House (which had been built by the town druggist who served also as justice of the peace), and there were two schools, one public, the other an academy for young ladies, an endeavor of the newly-arrived Sisters of St. Joseph.

Troubles with Apaches had continued over the years, and in 1871 a party of Tucsonians, accompanied by Papago Indian warriors, marched on an encampment of "peaceful" Apaches who were living under the protection of the army at Camp Grant, about 50 miles north of Tucson, and massacred some 125 of the Indians. At the urging of President Grant, 100 men were indicted for murder in the affair, and following a trial that lasted for seven days, the jury deliberated for 19 minutes and returned with an acquittal.

Known as the Camp Grant Massacre, the shocking incident did not bring to an end the conflict with Apaches, which had begun with the arrival of the first Spaniards in the Southwest. Not until September 1886 when Geronimo and his handful of followers at one time the quarry of 5,000 soldiers - agreed to surrender, did problems with the Apaches draw to a close.

When the first military telegraph line linked Tucson with the rest of the world in 1873, it gave the people cause to stage a grand ball. Gala as it might have been, that occasion was far eclipsed on March 20, 1880, when the first train to travel the newly laid tracks of the Southern Pacific line, arrived in Tucson. For school children it was a holiday, and the ceremonies, speechmaking and revelry continued far into the night, as men drank Tucson beer and California wine, and spoke among themselves of Tucson's splendid future.

Splendid future, indeed. After all, the census of that year showed Tucson to be growing, with a population of seven persons more than 7,000, and that same year, the Sisters of St. Joseph opened the long-needed St.

Mary's Hospital. In 1881 Tucson's first telephone exchange would be installed, and the following year would see her first street lights gas glowing warmly in the desert night. Following much maneuvering behind closed doors, the Thirteenth Territorial Legislature agreed in 1885 to appropri-ate $25,000 for establishment of a uni-versity at Tucson. But there was a string attached. Before the funds could be released, the town had to provide 40 acres of land suitable for the campus. J. S. Mansfeld, one of the regents appointed by the governor, took the offer seriously. After selecting a site on a mesa east of town, he successfully persuaded the owners of the property to donate it to the territory. It was in November 1886 that the benefactors a pair of professional gamblers and a saloonkeeper deeded the land to the university. Five years later the univer-sity opened its doors with six faculty members, a student body of 36 and a single unfinished building, Old Main, which housed all classrooms and labor-atories, the library and living quarters for some of the faculty.

Tucson had begun taking on big city airs. Mule drawn streetcars went into operation in 1896, filling Tucson's public transportation needs until 1906, when electric streetcars began traveling the three-mile loop between downtown and the University of Arizona campus. In 1931 they would be replaced by the more efficient gas powered busses.

When word reached Tucson at 8:55 on the morning of February 14, 1912, that President Taft had signed the proclamation admitting Arizona as the 48th of the United States, the lid all but blew off the town, as the news was received with ringing bells and shrieking whistles. The fire department, railroad shops and "other establishments having bells or whistles" were notified immediately, according to one news account. "Perhaps the most satisfactory sound producer was the big siren at the city water plant, used normally for fire alarm purposes. Seemingly suffering from a bad cold, the siren turned loose a hoarse medley of sound in various keys like a whole battery of whistles."

Yes, a big city Tucson might have been, what with her gas lights, electric streetcars and all that whistle power, but she just wasn't quite big enough. With the federal census of 1920, Tucson was edged out by Phoenix as the largest community in the state. In the 55 years since, Tucson has had to be content if sometimes grudgingly so with being older, but smaller, than upstart Phoenix. Perhaps, though, it's just as well. Not many years ago a Phoenix writer put it this way: "Tucsonians are loyal. The University of Arizona is the font of all knowledge, its football team the greatest. The climate is the best. The mountains the most beautiful. The Mexican food the tastiest. The living the easiest.

"Tucson's got pride. That's the difference....

"What Phoenix has gained in efficiencyciency, it has lost in character. Swimming pool haven, air-conditioned capital of the world. So what?

"Tucson still acts and dresses like the Southwest it epitomizes. Phoenix, alas, is trying its darndest to look and act like a poor man's Los Angeles, which is a shame."

So two centuries have passed since the red-haired Don Hugo wrote that letter to the viceroy telling him that San Agustin de Toixon seemed like a nice place to live, and now Tucson has plunged officially and with pride into her third century.

Recent years have been years of explosive growth for Tucson, and in her bicentennial year, her metropolitan population is fast approaching the halfmillion mark. Gone are her Hohokam pithouses and gone, too, are her presidial walls of adobe. There are skyscrapers now. Some call the growth progress, others frown.

Yet many of her people are convinced that despite sprawl and expansion, Tucson will always be Tucson, and will forever retain at least some of the traditions and flavor that were the "ancient and honorable pueblo" of years long past. □□□