Embedded Files
This detail is from the 1893 etching of the Shinn property Notice that in 1893 the redwoods are a good size already.
The redwoods behind the Big House were planted by the Shinn family sometime after 1876.
This small grove of redwoods supports the history of the Shinn family in so many ways and can be used for tours and classes.
1769: The discovery of the redwood by the non-natives was probably made in 1769 by the Spanish.
1845: Lumbering of the local Oakland redwoods began in 1845 (before the Gold Rush) and ended in 1860 when they were all gone.
1856: The Shinn family moved to the southern bank of Alameda Creek in 1856. They lived in the tiny Sim Cottage for 20 years until 1876 when the Big House was finished.
1874: Charles Howard Shinn sailed on the lumber schooner of a relative to Navarro/Novarro. He wrote the poem "Novarro."
1876: The Shinn Ranch redwoods were planted after 1876 which is when the Big House was completed. The redwoods can be seen in the 1893 etching of the Shinn Ranch. Perhaps they were planted by James Shinn or his son, Charles Howard Shinn, right after the Big House was built in 1876. They could be around 145+ years old today.
Poet's Grove - "Novarro" - Charles' trip to the coastal redwoods on a schooner 1874
Poet's Grove - "Novarro" - Charles' trip to the coastal redwoods on a schooner 1874
In 1874 Charles Howard Shinn wrote about a trip up to Novarro (now known as Navarro). His mother, Lucy, wrote "Charlie has gone for a trip to Navarro. Cousin Lue offered him free passage on one of Mr. T.'s [Tichenor's] schooners. He will be gone about a week. He rec'd a line from Lue last night too late for him to take passage on the evening train saying that the schooner would go out today, and so he took a [went down ?] on a freight train, would reach City about 10 o'clock. " {Note that there are a few recognizable sites in the poem: Arenas/Point Arena lighthouse?, Farralones, Golden Gate, and Alcatraz]
Fair seas grown silver under dappled skies,
Brown shores in evening shadows waning slow,
While on broad hills the reverential pines
Stand with sad faces bent to watch us go.
How the seas call, and. toss their misty hands;
How the winds sweeten with a breath of fir
Blown from the far woods; how the grasses stir
With their low sympathies, and wordless signs!
Alas! we mar the wave-perfected sands,
And turn sad feet to where the Ino lies!
MORE
Broad, lifted sails; a stormy, quivering keel!
The rocks slip past, the riven surges beat,
The still shores darken, all the sacred trees
Wave low farewells, the grassy slopes repeat
Their dim song woven by the northern wind;
And the smoke-curtained mills lie low and dun
In the great trees, the red sword of the sun
Smites from the warm west through the smoky seas,
The air drops flame, the leaning hills behind
Draw back from rush of fire and ring of steel!
Wind-trembling, moaning deep! we turn to thee
With the hill-dust above our tired eyes,
Now let us feel thy heart throb sweetly low
With thine illimitable ministries,
And thy calm musings of eternal things;
Or lean above the music of thy smiles
To hear the palm-song of the pleasant isles.
Were it not well to drift forever so,
And dream forever under shining wings,
Above thy yearning minstrelsies, dear sea?
All night our vessel pants through fields of foam,
All night the steersman holds the trembling wheel;
We round Arenas, with the holy light
Set on the gray rock as a crystal seal;
We hear the blind waves storm her silent base,
But her lamp turns in noiseless ways of peace,
And strong men sailing over treacherous seas
Gaze out across the danger-circled night,
And feel a far gleam touch them in the face
With all the love of land, and light of home.
Dim seas of dreaming, full of under calls,
And faint, far sighs, more clear than silver reeds,
Sweep round us, lost ones, in unmeasured night,
Yet glad with wonders audible, and needs
Made beautiful with speech! Uplifted wings
Shade the dark seas, and bear us swiftly through
The shadows of the star-sown fields of blue,
Fed by cloud-rivers with continuous light,
And chords of song, and of diviner things,
Drawn sweetly down in starry water-falls.
So we sail southward, by glad breezes blown
All the still hours; we pass the Farallones,
Encircled with unceasing lines of spray,
And brooding ever with perpetual moans
And wings of sea-birds.-Lo! the riven Gate,
With the sun on the walls of Alcatraz!
Through the twin cliffs with straining sail we pass,
And round to moorings in the peaceful bay,
Where on her sand-hills, girt with queenly state,
The mistress of the western seas lies lone.
The poem "Novarro" was published in the Overland Monthly in December 1874, perhaps one of Charles' first publications. We don't know for sure, but this could have been about about this trip or another trip. Like much poetry of the time, one needs to know a little background on the coast.
Charles Howard Shinn knew his trees. He traveled all over California. He was inspector of the UC Experiment Stations. He was a founding member of the Sierra Club in 1892. He was the first supervising ranger of the Sierra National Forest in the early 1900s.
Milicent Shinn was a member of the Save the Redwoods League. The League celebrated their 100th in 2018. See 100 years of protecting and celebrating redwoods
Joseph and Florence Shinn were long time members of the Sierra Club and entertained the local Sierra Club chapter many times at the Shinn Ranch.
These redwoods support many stories of the Shinn Ranch and Shinn family's story - trees, lumbering, forestry, and conservation.
Some help from old maps
Some help from old maps
A newspaper man encouraged Charles Shinn to write up a book on trees in simple language so that the "plain man" could understand trees.
Charles wrote this book about trees called "Let's Know Some Trees." It was published a year after his death in 1925.
In the foreword a story ...
"That recalls an incident of years ago.
"As a train waited on a siding in the Coast Range two boys who were gazing delightedly out upon giant Redwoods asked their father: “Dad, what kind of trees are they?”
"The father glanced up from his newspaper and
said: “Pines, I guess.”
"So the lads called them pines until a brakeman, hearing them, grunted: “ Them’s redwoods.”
Misinformation is even worse than ignorance."
The redwood in "Let's Know Some Trees,"
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