68
winter
|
spr ing
he wrote, “notwithstanding the fact that ‘our Lord’ saved the good wine
until the last.”
On election day in Santa Barbara, big tally-ho’s filled with white-
gowned children drove about town singing hymns and shouting, “Vote
dry! Vote dry!” but the initiative was roundly defeated.
In 1911, Underhill took on another ballot issue: women’s suffrage in
California. At the time, women could only vote in 6 U.S. states and not at
all in federal elections. Underhill was against giving women the vote and
cautioned, “…when it comes to giving equal suffrage, the normal male
should hesitate before deliberately putting a noose around his own neck.”
Underhill believed women’s lot was burdensome enough. With the added
pressure of the vote, the weaker sex would completely succumb; far better
to leave such things to a man.
“The feminine mind,” he wrote, “is illogical and inclined to hysterical
conclusions.” If women were able to vote they’d start changing all the laws
and the whole fabric of society would be destroyed.
“Be not overcome by subtle arguments from the mouths of silver-
tongued matrons!” he warned.
His words provoked a ration of rebuttals from men and women alike
and in October, the majority of California men voted to give California
women complete suffrage.
Last Days at Los Alisos
Having been labeled a chauvinist pig and ordered to cease and desist
with his architectural endeavors by his doctors, Underhill decided to breed
hogs and propagate dahlias at Los Alisos. He invested $25,000 in a herd of
100 prize Hampshire hogs and set about perfecting the breed. A newspaper
in 1918 said, “It isn’t generally known that in Montecito’s exclusive
environment, there’s the world’s most famous hog ranch, but it’s true.”
In 1919, breeders from throughout the state came for an auction at
his new concrete amphitheater which doubled as a barbeque area. The
newspapers said, “Mr. Underhill’s porkers are not of the common hog clay,
for they don’t wallow in mud…. They are so pampered that the adjectives
‘lovely’ ‘beautiful’ and ‘exquisite’ might be applied to them.” After years of
research and testing, Underhill published “A Brief Essay on the Evolution
of a Hampshire Herd with Reflections on the Art of Animal Breeding.”
Carmelita and Francis moved onto the Los Alisos property in 1925, and
four years later, after an illness of several weeks, he died.
Underhill had adopted the West as his home, forsaking all that he had
known to live out his life in pursuit of his dreams. His friends remembered
his eccentricities fondly and Elizabeth Eaton Burton wrote, “Though he
had long ago left his New York ways behind him, he always remained a
dapper New Yorker in his dress, although he made an exception by the
wearing of a huge sombrero, which made his slight well-dressed body look
like the stem of a mushroom. When seated in a Mexican saddle, he felt
himself lord of all he surveyed.”
William Paul Blair writing in
Pacific Horticulture
wrote, “Underhill
exemplified the Renaissance concept of
virtù
, a strong motivation toward
excellence in a number of fields of endeavor.” And Welford Benton,
who met Underhill wrote, “And withal Francis T. Underhill is a kindly
gentleman who knows how to laugh when there’s anything to laugh at. It
may be that is his greatest claim to distinction.”
(The author wishes to acknowledge the excellent files at the Montecito
Association History Archive and the Santa Barbara Historical Museum as well
as the gracious loan of Kathi Brewster’s personal files on Underhill.)
Unidentified guests at Underhill’s Rancho El Roblar in 1893 entertain
themselves with a game of horseshoes and pose on the porch (photos courtesy
of Santa Barbara Historical Museum)