The most celebrated of all these horse races of early days was that between José Andrés Sepúlveda's _Black Swan_ and Pio Pico's _Sarco_, the details of which I learned, soon after I came here, from Tom Mott. Sepúlveda had imported the _Black Swan_ from Australia, in 1852, the year of the race, while Pico chose a California steed to defend the honors of the day. Sepúlveda himself went to San Francisco to receive the consignment in person, after which he committed the thoroughbred into the keeping of Bill Brady, the trainer, who rode him down to Los Angeles, and gave him as much care as might have been bestowed upon a favorite child. They were to race nine miles, the _carrera_ commencing on San Pedro Street near the city limits, and running south a league and a half and return; and the reports of the preparation having spread throughout California, the event came to be looked upon as of such great importance, that, from San Francisco to San Diego, whoever had the money hurried to Los Angeles to witness the contest and bet on the result. Twenty-five thousand dollars, in addition to five hundred horses, five hundred mares, five hundred heifers, five hundred calves and five hundred sheep were among the princely stakes put up; and the wife of José Andrés was driven to the scene of the memorable contest with a veritable fortune in gold slugs wrapped in a large handkerchief. Upon arriving there, she opened her improvised purse and distributed the shining fifty-dollar pieces to all of her attendants and servants, of whom there were not a few, with the injunction that they should wager the money on the race; and her example was followed by others, so that, in addition to the cattle, land and merchandise hazarded, a considerable sum of money was bet by the contending parties and their friends. The _Black Swan_ won easily. The peculiar character of some of the wagers recalls to me an instance of a later date when a native customer of Louis Phillips tried to borrow a wagon, in order to bet the same on a horse race. If the customer won, he was to return the wagon at once; but if he lost, he was to pay Phillips a certain price for the vehicle.
Many kinds of amusements marked these festal occasions, and bull-fights were among the diversions patronized by some Angeleños, the Christmas and New Year holidays of 1854-55 being celebrated in that manner. I dare say that in earlier days Los Angeles may have had its Plaza de Toros, as did the ancient metropolis of the great country to the South; but in the later stages of the sport here, the _toreador_ and his colleagues conducted their contests in a gaudily-painted corral, in close proximity to the Plaza. They were usually proclaimed as professionals from Mexico or Spain, but were often engaged for a livelihood, under another name, in a less dangerous and romantic occupation near by. Admission was charged, and some pretense to a grandstand was made; but through the apertures in the fence of the corral those who did not pay might, by dint of hard squinting, still get a peep at the show. In this corral, in the fifties, I saw a fight between a bear and a bull. I can still recollect the crowd, but I cannot say which of the infuriated animals survived. Toward the end of 1858, a bull-fight took place in the Calle de Toros, and there was great excitement when a horse was instantly killed.