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H 
 
THE WORKS 
 
 OF 
 
 HUBERT HOWE BANCROFT. 
 
 laaii 
 
THE WORKS 
 
 
 
 HUBERT HOWE BANCROFT. 
 
 VOLUME XXXV. 
 
 CALIFORNIA INTER POCULA 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO: 
 THE HISTORY COMPANY, PUBLISHERS. 
 
 1888 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year l«ss, by 
 
 HUBERT H. BANCROB r, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 All Rnjlitx lieserveil. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 So full of oddities, and crudities, and stranjjfc devel- 
 opments, consequent upon unprecedented combina- 
 tions of nationalities, characters and conditions, were 
 the flush times of California, that to condense them 
 into the more solid forms of history without to some 
 extent stilling the life that is in them and marring 
 their origuiality and beauty is not possible. There 
 are topics and episodes and incidents which cannot 
 be vividly portrayed without a tolerably free use of 
 words — 1 do not say a free use of the imagination. 
 
 Much has been written of the Californiar Inferno 
 of 1840 and the years immediately following, nmcli 
 tliat is neither fact nor fable. Great and gaudy 
 [)ictures have been painted, but few of them bear 
 nmch resemblance to nature. Many conceits have 
 been thrown off by fertile brains which have given 
 tlieir authors money and notoriety ; but the true 
 artist who, with the hand of the master drawing from 
 life, places before the observer the all-glowing facts, 
 unbesmeared by artificial and deceptive coloring, has 
 yet to appear. 
 
 No attem[)t is made in these pages to outdo my 
 predecessors in morbid intensifications of the certain 
 phases of society and character engendered of the 
 times. They contain simple sketches and plain de- 
 scriptions, historical rather than fantastical, with no 
 effort toward effect. 
 
 (V) 
 
■ri 
 
 TI 
 
 Til 
 
 THl 
 
 It 
 
 CLA£ 
 
 SAN 
 
CONTENTS OF THIS VOLUME. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE VALLSr OF CAMFORNIA 
 
 PAGE 
 • . . I 
 
 <'HAPTER ri. 
 
 THREE CENTURIES OK Wir n r.i,, .. 
 
 WILD TALK ABOUT GOLD IN CALIWIRNIA 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FURTHER RUMOK.S OF THE EYr^TPVi.i. ^» 
 
 XH. PISCOVEBV JZZZ ' '!"'' " ™H-A PRIOR ro 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AFFAIRS ABOUT THE COLOMA SAW-MILL 
 
 . . 25 
 
 44 
 
 I>URINQ THE SPRING OF 1848 . 62 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 89 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CAU«,RNIA_NEWVORK TO CHAORES. ..... ,0, 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA-ISTHMUS OF PANAMA 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNU-PANAMA TO ...N fr^.cISCO 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 EL SOSAOO 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 CLASSICAL ABNORMITIES 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO , 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 (V) 
 
 155 
 
 190 
 
 225 
 
 248 
 
 260 
 
** CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTKR Xir. 
 
 '*"'■"'•■"• .294 
 
 ('JIAITKR XIIJ. 
 
 KUKTIIKR AIlNUKMiriKS „.- 
 
 CHAI'TKR XIV. 
 
 BUSINESS. ...... „„, 
 
 CHAI'TKR XV. 
 
 ILLt'sniATIONS OF LIKE ANK CUAKAtTKII gjM 
 
 CHAI'TKR XVI. 
 
 A.MO.N(l THE MINEIW ^g. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 SgUAn'ERISAI „^p 
 
 CHAI'TKR XVm. 
 
 PACIFIC COA.ST PRISONS .,,, 
 
 CHAI'TKR XIX. 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISOlJIOS ^.jg 
 
 CHAI'TKR XX. 
 
 SOME CHINESE EPISODES gg, 
 
 CHAPT) .1 XXI. 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICK AND COURT SCENES. . ROo 
 
 CHAPTKR XXII. 
 
 DRINKING ggg 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIl. 
 
 GAMBUNG go- 
 
 CHAPTKR XXIV. 
 
 DUELLING ^o. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 TALKS OF THE TIKES ^gg 
 
. 315 
 
 . :m 
 
 CALTrORiSTIA 
 INTER POCULA 
 
 . 734 
 
 . 785 
 
 ('• 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE VALLEY OF TALIFORXIA. 
 
 Horteuaio peaco, thou knowest not gohVH .effect. 
 
 — Tamiiiij of the ,^?>r«»r. 
 
 tur^- Pnlif"^'"-' ''•™';'' '""' ''™™«' SehoUl tl>0 ni 
 turo, Calitoniia in lier cups I ^ 
 
 Onco Jong ago sailors thought to hold in tlioir Pm 
 brac^ the god Bacclms, whon" they carried fn « 
 
 Z c r ''' t 'r '^"^ 'r^ while!" buV^;::;.::; 
 
 tlie god awoke he caused vines fn fw;»r +i i 
 
 early to California tSintl cZ^'L^'L';.;?'.'' 
 .er of her treasures, but wte theuSes'^C^'"'' 
 tive, fallins on destruction P' 
 
 Yet swiftly as this chaff of immigration was swent 
 away, nierclessly as California frowned o many si 
 was not so .nuch to bla.ne, although for a br efVace 
 she played the bacchante, for she was ha,ll J tJ i 
 worse than Pcntheus, wh^ from nSg ^'pl^^ ^^^'r*:^; 
 
 '''""^r,!:rrv''<' '''^™'--'' '-5hii.g.st«ro" 
 
9 - THE VALLEY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 the avenging deity, and bereft of sense was led 
 tlirough the city in female apparel, stricken with 
 mania, with a doulle sun and a double Thebes before 
 his eyes, finally to be torn to pieces by women. First 
 of all she was made to reveal her mystery, held sacred 
 to the memories of time; for which extortion, like 
 another Pythia, she was placed upon a tripod over , 
 the chasm Cassotis, and for a Delphic temple choos- 
 ing the snow-powdered Sierra, and for the mephitic 
 exhalations the less offensive incense from odorous 
 pines. 
 
 Native to sublim.ited airs and all-engendering sun- 
 shine, her intoxication partook more of youthful revels 
 than chronic intemperance; nevertheless, thou wast 
 drunk, California, as thou well knowest; as drunk as 
 Agave when tearing in pieces her own son whom she 
 took for a lion's cub. Thine hills were drunk from 
 the fruit of their own vines; and in the great valley 
 was heard the sullen roar of hell echoing hollow on 
 the ear. All this was exceedingly disgraceful, and 
 especially repulsive in young and lovely woman ; 
 whereat, toward the immaculate east, conventional 
 spinsters of untried chastity blushed and hung their 
 heads, though never refusing to receive the fruits of 
 sin. 
 
 Between two mountain systems stretches the valley 
 of California, an elliptical, trough-like plain, five hun- 
 dred miles in length by seventy-five in width ; a vast 
 amphitheatre, from whose arena circling terraces rise 
 up to the lofty canopy of a pearl and berjl sky — colos- 
 sal benches, whereon the gods might sit and watch 
 the strange doings of men below. 
 
 Although not gods we some day may be ; all gods 
 were once men, or something worse. Therefore come 
 sit with me upon the plateau-shelf up over the hill 
 Mokelumne, near the source of the Stanislaus, where 
 sometime sat Nemesis, eyeing the pilgrims as they 
 entered the Golden Gate, and measuring out to them 
 
MOUNTAIN SYSTE^IS. 
 
 led 
 with 
 i3fore 
 First 
 icred 
 , like 
 over . 
 hoos- 
 phitic 
 orous 
 
 ; sun- 
 revels 
 
 wast 
 ink as 
 •ui she 
 : from 
 valley 
 low on 
 il, and 
 onian ; 
 ntional 
 their 
 
 uits of 
 
 rallcy 
 e hun- 
 
 a vast 
 DS rise 
 -colos- 
 
 watch 
 
 ^1 (vods 
 le come 
 Ihe hill 
 where 
 they 
 them 
 
 <4 
 
 tliclr several portions of invented woe. Five thous- 
 and feet below, and far as eye can reach, spreads out 
 a i)crl.srope of beauty such as makes us loath to put 
 off liumanity even to be gods, lest mayhap as gods 
 wc should have no sympathy with scenes like this. 
 Often have I thought when standing entranced before 
 entrancing nature, what a pity it was we could not 
 always have her scenes before us; and as for heaven, 
 give it to those who are dissatisfied with earth. Only 
 exterminate north winds, nervousness, and all rascal- 
 ity, and I could rest contented yet awhile here upon 
 this bench, though not a god. 
 
 Walled in on every side, without loop-hole or portal 
 save by passes to the plateau regions of Utah and 
 Arizona, and the bay of San Francisco, which across 
 the concave from where we sit, and midway between 
 its north and south extremes, parts the Coast Range, 
 whose green and grizzly hills it crowds back, and 
 ])aves the way through the Golden Gate to the 
 Pacific, we have before us what was once broad ocean, 
 then an inland sea, afterward a hedged-in Eden, God- 
 givon to a thrice happy race, and later converted into 
 a nineteenth-century coliseum, wherein was destined 
 to be performed a play entitled The New Greetl- 
 struggle of the Nations. Time enough, however, to 
 talk about that to-morrow. Sit still awhile and wo 
 sliall presently see, out here upon this holiday of 
 creation, elves and fays, if any there are left for these 
 new Arcadian vales. We can offer them whereon to 
 sport ground which one day will be as classic as that 
 of Greece, plains up-swelling beneath their feet, and 
 slopes of evergreen and sweeps of forest. Then 
 there are warm inviting knolls under star-lit skies, 
 and enchanted groves where heaven's witchery might 
 wanton regardless of irate ocean on one side or 
 shadowless deserts on the other. 
 
 When this mightv Sierra was a-building, this 
 grand up-lift, with its fluted sides flushed with never- 
 
4 THE VALLEY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 dying foliage, its white-cushioned benches, and long 
 serrated summits, its rocky pinnacles whose alabaster 
 crests glisten lustrous to mariners a hundred miles 
 away, when its crevices were being filled with molten 
 gold, a sea of sorrow was about to roll at its base, for 
 the S(juabble for this treasure that is presently to 
 come will be pljiful to see. 
 
 Split a fern-stalk and place it in a dish with the 
 thick ends together, and the leafy sides both lying 
 toward the east, and you have mapped the drainage 
 system of the California valley. The stalks are the 
 two rivers, the Sacramento and the San Joaquin, 
 which, rising respectively at either end of the great 
 valley, graciously receive their tributaries as they wind 
 through oak and poplar vistas; then rolling slowly 
 on, ever slowly, once bright and clear with happy 
 contentment, but presently opaque in sullen shade, 
 on to their junction, and thence together to the 
 sea. 
 
 And it is along this eastern side, where the branches 
 and leaves and leaflets rest on the edges of the dish, 
 and form labyrinths of ridges, and subordinate valleys 
 upon which are flung in infinite disorder, bluffs, 
 cliasms, and smoothly rounded stonu-waves heaped 
 almost mountain high, that we have the Sierra foot- 
 hills, already abnormally classic. Aside from the 
 petrified sentinels left standing adown the centuries, 
 there is ample evidence of what Plutus was hammer- 
 ing at hereabout. Left, after laying the Sierra foun- 
 dation, were the dead volcanoes which we see, and 
 their trachyte spurs flanking dark green forests, all 
 intermingled with lavender and bufl:' lava beds and 
 scoriaj; blistered ashen slopes, whose vegetation is 
 stunted and ill-tempered, and fire-riven hills of purple 
 rock, loose and crumbling, to which cling blasted 
 pines and wind-smitten oaks. Over many of her 
 deformities nature spreads a seemly covering, hld- 
 inij what were otherwise the bare bones of an un- 
 
IN THE COAST RANflE. 
 
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 sii;litly skeleton. Manyof these foundation-hills, and 
 particularly the little valleys between them were fin- 
 is] lod in her happiest mood. Many of these cinders 
 of spent forces have been well fleshed with soil, well 
 watered, made fragrant with gums and odorous plants, 
 and toned in healthy glistening green. 
 
 But it is down into the valleys that you must go, 
 into the valleys of the Coast Range, and that too be- 
 fore man has mutilated everything, if you would see 
 what nature has done for this strip of seaboard. There 
 are natural meadows arabesque with tawny wild-oats, 
 blossoming pea, and golden nmstard, interspersed 
 with indigenous vineyards, and fruit-bearing thickets. 
 There are flower-gardens laid out in patterns by the 
 deft fingers of nature, stars and crowns and chaplets 
 of yellow, purple, white, and red. Scattered over 
 broad park-like plains, and rising from tall wavy grass 
 are oaks of various forms and species, some high with 
 broad branches, and many scraggy and storm-bent. 
 Here and there trees cluster in groves, and clumps of 
 undcr-growth gather round to keep them company, 
 liising from the broad plain are solitary buttes, with 
 cloud-entangling crests, sharp and high; and all 
 around the borders bluff promontories, and tongues of 
 u[)lifted land timbered with beech and birch, ash, 
 myrtle, and laurel, shoot out into the valley, some- 
 times sudsiding in small round hills covered with 
 tulips, wild onions, hemp, flax, and prickly chaparral. 
 Now bring down through rocky canons the clear 
 dancing water; lead it n^und in winding courses 
 where it will best moisten the surface, broadening it 
 occasionally into lakes, locking it in lagoons, or leav- 
 ing it in sluggish sloughs; then go out while the 
 morning is fresh and gray, just as the sun begins to 
 ])our a sensuous warmth into the air, to refine the 
 mists and give lustre to the foliage, and to set life 
 glowing under a blue and purple haze, and if the eyes 
 shine not with gladness, and the breast swells not 
 
THE VALLEY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 with gratitude, then the heart is hard indeed, and 
 the breast but Httle better than a flUit. 
 
 You say that such a region should teem with ani- 
 mal life, and so it does. You can see there pelicans 
 and sea-gulls fishing together in the bays ; seals and 
 soa-lions barking on the islands; wild fowl thickly 
 clustered on lake and tule-marsh ; fish darting amid the 
 waters; and beasts of many several sorts roaming tlie 
 forests. On the tangled hillside is heard the soft 
 note of the curlew ; you may listen also to the rust- 
 ling of the pheasant, the chirrup of the blackbird, 
 the whistling of the partridge, and the sweet songs of 
 the robin and the lark. And they all rest content ; 
 they are not driven by intense heat or cold to 
 long migrations, their little journeys between valley 
 and mountain being scarcely more than an afternoon's 
 ramble. Nor need they take nmch thought for the 
 morrow; even the prudent bee often leaves neglected 
 the honey-bearing flower, and fails to lay in a winter's 
 store. To elk and antelope, deer and bear, hill and 
 plain are one, and that whether scorched by summer's 
 sun or freshened by whiter's rain. Bounteous nature 
 plants the fields, brings forth the tender verdure, 
 cures the grass, and stores the acorns. Little of 
 frozen winter is here, little of damp, malarious sum- 
 mer ; cool invigorating nights succeed the warmest 
 days. Ice and snow banished hence sit cold and stolid 
 on distant peaks, whence are reflected the impotent 
 rays of the sun. 
 
 Where then is winter ? November drops its gentle 
 rain upon the sun-burned ground, closing the weatlier- 
 cracks, freshening the Lydian air, and carpeting the 
 late gray hills and vales in green ; and this is winter. 
 Spring comes warm and wanton, and nature is clad in 
 holiday garb. Summer, dry and elastic, and trem- 
 bling in amethystine light, is fragrant with the odor 
 of dried grass, cypress, wild bay, and juniper. Tlie 
 heat of summer is seldom enervating, and the thick 
 sullen fogs that creep in from the ocean are not 
 
WONDERS OP THE REGION. 
 
 t 
 
 unhealthy. The cUmate of CaUfornia is reliable; 
 though her women may be fickle, her winds are not. 
 llaiii she sends at rain-time, and this having passed 
 prayers are <jf no avail. 
 
 Thus along the centuries seasons come and go, while 
 over all diurnally sweeps the half-tropic sun. In the 
 broad arch float flocks of light clouds, or spread out in 
 long fleecy folds between which at night silently sails 
 the melancholy moon. From the sparkling white on 
 alpine donie^ the gray and golden sunlight smiles 
 across the amphitheatre, enfolds the lustrous clouds 
 which send shadows crawlhiij alony: the mountain- 
 side and over the plains, nods with its earliest rays to 
 sleepy ocean, dances back from sea to snow-peak ; 
 then, pal[)itating in purple, it rises from violet-banks 
 and grizzly hills, and mingles with the russet liaze of 
 the horizon, or creeps in tenderer tones through 
 evanescent mists into deep cailons and murky ravines, 
 and glows warm and tremulous over the sombre 
 shades below. 
 
 cntle 
 ,ther- 
 r the 
 inter, 
 ilad in 
 trcm- 
 odor 
 The 
 thick 
 not 
 
 Before descending to the more practical affairs of 
 life in this region, I might point you out some of the 
 so-called wontlers of the arena-rim ; though I may 
 say to 3'ou that long since 1 arrived at the conclusion 
 that there is in heaven or earth no one thing more 
 wonderful than another. With whatsoever we are un- 
 familiar, that to us is wonderful when seen; wonder 
 is l)ut the exclamation of iijnorance. 
 
 Yonder at the northern end, lonely and white, 
 stands Blount Shasta, girdled by lesser volcanic peaks 
 tliat look like pigmies beside the monarch of the north 
 which liftt '^'! front so proudly above the solenui forest- 
 sea that iMJtfts in niournful monotones upon its base. 
 To one not cradle(! amid such sights its awful grandeur 
 beside our puny life is crushing. Standing in the clear 
 atmosphere, unrivalled and apart, like Orion it catches 
 from over the eastern r'uhre the first ravs of morninjj, 
 and flashes them far down the vista; while at evening 
 
THE VALLEY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 its frosty diadem gleams with the glances of the 
 departing sun long after the shades of night have 
 overspread the surrounding hills. 
 
 Before us at the portal two sentinels, Helena and 
 Diablo, guard either side, with Tamalpais picketed 
 near the entrance ; while far to the south, over the 
 Tulare lakes and meadows, from the cold starlit ether 
 or glowing hi the roseate hues of day, the tall obelisks 
 and stately domes and bristling minarets of mounts 
 Brewer, Whitney, and Tyndall look down in grave 
 guardianship. Proud ininmtability ! Yet whether 
 dripping with slimy sea-beds, or being graven by 
 glaciers, or smoothed into forms of comeliness by 
 tempest, these mighty ministers to needful lowlands 
 do nevertheless slowly crumble in decay, and with 
 their dust feed forest and flower. So man is laid low, 
 and mind. 
 
 A little to our left, and almost hidden by granite- 
 waves and conoldal domes that rise out of broad fir- 
 planted snow-fields, yawns the plateau-rent of Yosem- 
 ite. It lies in the Sierra foothills, nearly at right 
 angles to their trend, and consists of a trough-like 
 erosion, or sink, about a mile in perpendicular depth, 
 six miles in lengtii, with a flat bottom from half a 
 mile to a mile in irregular width. Angles and square 
 recesses press mto walls of light gray granite, bril- 
 liantly white under the reflection of the sun's rays, 
 in places reddened by moss, fantastically carved, or 
 stained with vertical parallel stripes of brown and 
 black. Over these smooth white walls the ]\Ierced 
 and its tributaries leap in wavy silver threads, and 
 dashing in dusty foam upon the chasm floor, intone 
 eternal hallelujahs. Any one of the scores of domes, 
 and peaks, and perpendicular channels, and lichen- 
 covered i)recipices that here present themselves taken 
 apai-t constitutes of itself a study. 
 
 Climbing up the outer side of the basin, and emer- 
 ging from tlie level forest that covers the thick flat 
 rim and veils the approach to the chasm, the tourist 
 
'% 
 
 I 
 
 YOSEMITE. 9 
 
 of late r times sharply reins in his stood — if so bo 
 that the jatled cayusc ro(iuires it — dismounts, and 
 stands on Inspiration point, a roek}' eminence com- 
 manding a partial view of the valley. Here every 
 one who writes a book stands spell-bound as if in the 
 presence of the almighty, beholds a new heaven and 
 a new earth, feels the onmipotence and majesty of 
 the infin'.:e, attempts in vain to give his vision utter- 
 ance, indulges in a sublime fit of rhapsody, and then 
 drops into mesmeric silence. Old life and ordinary 
 emotions are suspended, and a new tide of feeling 
 rushes in upon the soul. The mortal part of man 
 shrinks back, and the immortal prostrates the beholder 
 before this api>arition of majesty and desolation. 
 
 Entering at the lower end by the Mariposa trail, a 
 general view of the valley is obtaineil, which displays 
 first, on the left, the granite-block El Capitan, a 
 smooth seandess battlement, rising clearly cut 3,300 
 feet in height; and on the right the Bridal Veil ftill, 
 a white cascade of fluttering gossamer, leS,]>ing from 
 the western edge of Cathedral rock 630 feet, when 
 striking the heaped-up debris at the base of the cliff, 
 it continues in a series of cascades 300 feet perpen- 
 dicular to the bottom, where it flows off in ten or 
 twelve streamlets. Summer dries the Virjjin's Tears 
 that fall o[)})osite the Bridal Veil, for their source is 
 not the eternal snow of the high sierra. When the 
 stream that feeds the fall runs low, nearly all the 
 water is dissipated by the wind, which first sways, 
 then scatters it, and finally breaks it into (piivering 
 s[>ray, which the tardy sun, wh.Mi it ai)[)ears, gilds 
 with rainbows. 
 
 Over the floor of the enclosure is spread a varie- 
 gated carpet fit for a palace of the gods. jVIoadows of 
 thick grass are interspersed with flt)wers and flowering 
 shrubs, and fringed with thickets of inanzanita, alder, 
 maple, and laurel, and groves of oak, cedar, and fir, 
 with occasional moss-covered rocks, marshes, and 
 patches of sand; while high up on the battlement, 
 
10 
 
 THE VALLEY OP CALIFORNIA. 
 
 clinging to crevice and shelving rock, are tall grace- 
 ful fcrna, with branches of the most delicate tracery, 
 which from their dizzy height look like tiny shrubs. 
 United with grandeur are sweet freshness and melody ; 
 mingling with iris-hued mists is the fragrance of 
 flowers, and with the music of the waters the songs 
 of birds. Receiving and giving rest to the troubled 
 waters after their fearful leap is still the Merced 
 river, which winds through the valley in sharp angu- 
 lar bends, striking first one side and then the other. 
 It is some seventy feet in width, and as transpar- 
 ent almost as air ; indeed, so deceivingly limpid is 
 it, that the unwary tourist who steps into it is soon 
 beyond his depth. So too in regard to everything in 
 and around this r3tjion of vastness ; dimensions are 
 so stupendous that judgment is confounded ; the in- 
 experienced eye cannot measure them. Distance is 
 cheated of its effect ; until perhaps, one toils in vain 
 all day to accomplish what appears to be no difficult 
 task, when the mistake is discovered and the eye is 
 straimd no lonofer. 
 
 Now and then a huge boulder, breaking from its 
 long resting-place, comes crashing down the precipice, 
 thundering in loud reverberations throughout the 
 chasm. Sometimes in spring a flood bursts on 
 Yosemite, when there is a tunmlt of waters, and 
 high carnival is held in the valley. Scores of newly- 
 born streams and streamlets fall from the upper end, 
 and along the side roar a hundred cataracts wliose 
 united voices might waken Endymion. Pyramids of 
 mist stand on the chasm floor, and ribbons of white 
 waters twenty or thirty feet apart hang against 
 black walls, or fall like comet's tails side by side, with 
 jets shooting out from either side like arrows, weaving 
 gauzy lace-work and forging fairy chains. 
 
 In May and June the streams are flush, and the 
 monotone of falling waters is broken by crash and 
 boom like angry surf striking the shore; but as au- 
 tumn approaches, the roaring cataracts dwindle to 
 
DIZZY WATERFALLS. 
 
 n 
 
 on 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 mere threads, which are shattered to mist in their 
 descent, or disapi)car entirely. Frost d ispels a portion 
 of the summer haze, and the air of whiter is clear and 
 cold. Tiie granite walls glisten in a net-work of ice, 
 and the frozen vapor whirls through the canon, smit- 
 ing the clhfs, and overspreading the domes in layers 
 of white, which, as they thicken, loosen their hold, 
 slide oif in huge masses, and striking upon the debris 
 piles, break into powder, and fill the gorge to the brim 
 with fine particles of frozen mist, which sparkle like 
 diamond dust. 
 
 Further upward in the valley, just beyond the 
 Bridal Veil, is Cathedral rock, and still a little further, 
 shooting up in graceful pinnacles. The Spires. Then 
 on the left come the Three Brothers, called by the 
 natives Pompompasus, or Leaping Frogs; and jiro- 
 jcctlng from the o})posite side the obelisk-formed Sen- 
 tinel rock, which rises from the river, like a watch-tower, 
 over three thousand feet. Across the valley from 
 Sentinel rock, and fed exclusively by melting snows, 
 is the great Yosemite fall, the largest in the world, if 
 height and volume both be considered, being fifteen 
 times as high as Niagara, and most indescribably 
 grand. Springing from the verge of the chasm, over a 
 smoothly polished, perpendicular wall of fifteen hun- 
 dred feet, and swaying in the wind like a scarf of lace, 
 the water strikes upon a rough, inclined shelf, over 
 wliicli, ragged with foam, or spread out in transparent 
 aprons, it rushes in a series of cascades equal to 625 
 feet perpendicular to the verge, when, with a final 
 plunge of 400 feet, this most magnificent of half-mile 
 leaps is consummated. No small portion of tlie water 
 which drops from the top, and which widens and 
 scatters in its descent, is dashed into spray before 
 reaching the bottom; yet enough is left, even in the 
 dryest part of the season, to send a deep, hoarse roar 
 reverberating through the canon. 
 
 Two miles above the Yosemite fall, the valley splits 
 into three canons, at the head of the middle one of 
 
19 
 
 THE VALLFA- OF TALIFORNIA. 
 
 which tumhlos the Mcrcod, here a fleecy mass of foam. 
 Down the canon to the left flows the Yenat^a, and 
 down the one to the riglit the Ilhlouettc. Here, at 
 tlie upper end of tlie valley proper, where the river 
 branciies with the branch in*; chasm, in the outer anoflo 
 of Ycnajija canon, we find tiic Washington Column, 
 and the Royal Arches, and back of these the North 
 Dome, a rtmnded mass of overla[)|)ing, concentric, 
 granite plates. On the opposite side of Yenaga canon 
 are the Half Dome and Cloud's Rest, and in the canon, 
 !Mirror lake. 
 
 Ascending the Merced through the middle canon, 
 besides two miles of cascades in which the river de- 
 scends over two thousand feet, we find two magnificent 
 falls, surrounded by (ue grandest scenery, — Vernal 
 fall, which makes up in volume and impressive beauty 
 what it lacks in height, and the Nevada fall, with the 
 Cap of Liberty near it. The Illilouette branch of the 
 Merced also has a beautiful fall. 
 
 Thus, amid sentinels of granite, and mighty battle- 
 ments, and musical cascades, and roaring cataracts, 
 witli its verdure-clad floor, and its time-worn walls 
 curtained in glistening gossamer, cold in its colors 
 though they be of dazzling brightness, wrapped in 
 veils t)f silvery mist round which in drapery of pris- 
 matic hues Iris dances, or illuminated with airy 
 clouds of frozen spray, Yosemite sits enthroned. 
 Above and beyond, cold, silent, and white, stretches 
 the ijrcat rauije on whose sunnnit lies the snow that, 
 melting, tunes the viols of a hundred cataracts. A 
 fitting play -ground ft)r the state, truly! A wonder 
 worthy of California! Travel the world over and you 
 will find no counterpart; there is no wonder like our 
 wonder. Even a Yosemite rivulet may boast its 
 sheer half-mile of precipice. All here is grand and 
 unique ; all of characteristic bigness except water, but 
 Californians were never specially partial to water! 
 
 I say Yosemite has no counterpart — I should rather 
 
HETCH-HETCHY. 
 
 It 
 
 say outside of California. Here wc have others, so 
 that if the grout chasm of chasms sliould ever be k)st 
 to us, we still sh<)ul(> not be without our wonder. 
 There is tlie Little Yosemite valley above the Nevada 
 fall, with its concentric granite structures, and the 
 same river flowing tlirough it in beautiful cascades; 
 and there is the Hetch-hetchy valley, which, if a little 
 less grand than the Yosemite, would answer well 
 enough in place of it. The Hetch-hetchy chasm walls 
 tlie Tuolumne river about sixteen miles north-west 
 from Yos« mite. It is three miles in length, from an 
 eiglith to half a mile in width, with walls not quite mo 
 high as those of the Yosemite, tliough the volume (►f 
 water flowing into it is nmch greater. It extends in 
 the same direction as Yosemite, has a perpendicular 
 blurt' — the {•ounterpar\ of El Capitan, a larger stream 
 fed hv the meltiuir snows which fall over a clift' 1,000 
 feet in heiglit; has in the Hetch-hetchy fall, 1700 
 feet in height, the counterpart of the Yosemite fall, 
 with its Cathedral rock, 2,270 feet in height; finally, 
 at its upi>cr end, it splits into two canons instead of 
 three as at Yosemite. All along the base of the 
 Sierra, and niountiiig u])ward to its sunnnit, arc innu- 
 merable valleys, meadows and spritigs, lakes, water- 
 falls, and cascades, eroded canons, polished domes, and 
 Volcanic spindles, finger posts of the early gold-seekers, 
 obelisk groups, table mountains, kettles, chests, forts, 
 caves, bridges, sugar-loaves, cathedral-peaks, and uni- 
 corn peaks ; the which, if they should be described 
 every one, I suppose that even the world itself could 
 not contain the books that would be written. Many 
 mighty chasms we have on this Pacific slope beside 
 the Yosemite canon of the Merced, and the Hetch- 
 hetchy canon of the Tuolunme. There is the Amer- 
 ican river with its north and south forks down two or 
 three thousand feet in hard slate. The Columbia and 
 the Fraser rivers have their fifty miles and more of 
 gorges several thousand feet deep; and grander yet, 
 the Kinjj river canon, with its hard granite walls 
 
f 
 
 II THE VALLEY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 from three to seven thousand feet deep. Then, grand- 
 est of all is the grand cafion of the Colorado, 300 
 miles long, and from 3,000 to 6,200 feet in depth, also 
 the result of erosion. 
 
 There are likewise many other noted wonders in 
 California, as Bower cave near by, with its cleft, per- 
 pendicular chamber walls and subterranean lake, dell, 
 grotto, and grove ; the Alabaster stalactite cave of El 
 Dorado on our rijrht; the Calaveras cave of skulls in 
 which, when discovered, were found human skeletons 
 coated with carbonate of lime; the Santa Cruz cave, 
 and nun;erous natural bridges. Bower cave, situated 
 in Mariposa county, consists of a crevice in the lime- 
 stone hollowed out by water; hence it is open at the 
 top but widens out cave-like beneath the surface. It 
 is 133 feet long, 109 feet deep, and 80 feet wide. 
 Three maple trees grow within it, sending their 
 branches out througli the split roof, and the water on 
 the bottom is so transparent, that the deep cavities 
 which are worn on either side above and below, may 
 be distinctly followed beneath the surface to a depth 
 of forty feet. Alabaster cave, in Placer county near 
 Auburn, is a large cav ity, discovered by lime-burners 
 while quarryhig. There are two chambers, one 100 
 by 200 feet, and the other 25 by 100 feet, and from 
 4 to 20 feet in depth. Brilliant stalactites of various 
 shades and shapes hang in irregular rows, hitersperscd 
 w^ith spaces stained with a sort of grotesque graining. 
 One of the chambers, called the Crystal Chapel, looks 
 like an embowered arctic region petrified. Over a 
 branch of the Trinity river natu^-e has thrown a ledge 
 of rocks 300 eet wide and 150 feet thick, under which 
 runs the stre m through an arch 80 feet wide and 20 
 feet high, u nong others, Coyote creek, in Tuolumne 
 county, is spa aed by two natural bridges. 
 
 To these sc« les of grandeur and beauty vegetation 
 contributes it> quota. Among twenty clusters of 
 mammoth trees, there are eight principal groves, of 
 
MAMMOTH TREES. 
 
 IS 
 
 J 
 
 which thfi Mariposa and Calaveras are chief. Tlie ouca- 
 1\ |)tuH of Australia is a tailor tree than the sccjuoia 
 j^l>j"antca of California — Wellingtonea gi«rant<'a these 
 trees were once oalh'd ; hut this could not he tolerated 
 in a lafid where is celchratod the 4th of July, and so 
 the nainc^ was clianged to Washingtonea; hut lately, 
 arborists say simply sequoia gigantea. Taking height, 
 bulk, and numbers together, if not the tallest and old- 
 est, we have here the grandest groups of forest trees 
 upon this planet. 
 
 The Mariposa grove, which, with the Yosemlte 
 valley was given by congress to the state of California 
 f )r public use and recreation, is situated thirty miles 
 from Yosemite, and con'^'^-ins, scattered among smaller 
 trees, over 200 which are more than twelve feet in 
 diameter. Sixty of them, measured six feet from the 
 ground, have diameters of from 27 to 07 feet, and in 
 heiijfht are from 187 to 270 feet. The Grizzlv Giant 
 measures on the surface 9^ feet in circumference. 
 Through the hollow of a prostrate trunk, two horse- 
 men ride abreast for a distance of 100 feet. One 
 hundred feet above the ground, a trunk which is there 
 twenty feet in diameter, puts out a branch six feet hi 
 thickness. The trees are straight, with gracefully 
 tapering jrunks, fluted bark of a light cinnamon color, 
 and small coniform tops. In the Calaveras grove 
 there are about 100 trees of the larger sort, thirty of 
 which measure from 230 to 2.35 feet in hei<dit, and 
 from 30 to 45 feet in circumference six feet from 
 the ground. Five men occupied twenty -two days in 
 felling one of them, which was accomplished by bor- 
 ing through the trunk with pump-augers. After it 
 was completely severed, wedges had to be driN en in 
 on one side to overturn it. This tree is estimated to 
 have been 1,300 years okl; its bark was a foot and a 
 half thick, and upon its stump, which six feet from 
 the ground has a diameter of twenty-seven feet, after 
 squaring and smoothing it, was erected a pavilion for 
 dancing and pleasure parties. 
 
^ 
 
 18 
 
 THE VALLEY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 We will now tnrn to quite a different scene 
 Round Sfc. Helena, once a bellowing crater, and the 
 chimney of hifernal furnace-fires, the earth's crust 
 softens, steams with Internal heat, and appears with 
 its comlincss marred so as to expose the mysteries of 
 unadorned earth ; for terraqueous nature, as well as 
 human nature, has its unseemly side, its infirmities, 
 and sinks of corruption. On one side of St. Helena 
 are the steaming sulphuric springs and boiling mud of 
 Calistoga, and on the other that pit of Acheron, the 
 Geysers. Surely the balance of power must be pre- 
 served, the heaven of California must have its hell; 
 aye, let nature boast har abnormities, nor be outdone 
 by that hungry human horde which rushed in hither 
 and lined the streets of every mining camp with scores 
 of hells. 
 
 Three miloa away one hears the puff and roar as of 
 ocean steamt;A>i, and sees the ascending smoke and 
 steam. In the approach there is no Point of Inspira- 
 tion; but Hog's Backs, and steep, angular glades, 
 down which Jehu drives with such headlong speed as 
 makes the timid passenger to shiver, and prepares the 
 tourist for the enjoyment Plutonic pleasures. To 
 one gazing from the mountain brow upon this 
 monstrosity of nature, God is not in all his thoughts, 
 but Satan and his hissing emissaries ; here is no 
 new heaven and earth, but a nether realm, with sty- 
 gian odors that offend the nostrils. 
 
 He who first discovered the beauties of Yosemite 
 was struck speechless as at the portal of paradise. 
 The hunter Elliott, who in 1847 chased a bear into 
 the vallc}"^ of tne Pluton, spying the Devil's canon 
 turned and fled, and on reaching his companions ex- 
 claimed : " Boys 1 I have found hell 1 " 
 
 Around the cool deep crystal waters of Clear Lake 
 are numerous soda springs, sulphur banks, and borax 
 deposits. Down the western slope of the western ridge 
 that bounds this region, in the heart of a tangled forest 
 once well fctuclved with game, flows the Pluton river, a 
 
THE GFA'SERS. 
 
 ir 
 
 is no 
 
 sGinite 
 
 radise. 
 
 ir into 
 
 canon 
 
 IS ex- 
 
 es 
 forest 
 
 Ivcr, a 
 
 
 
 merry tuinblino^ stream from twenty to thirty feet in 
 in widtli, formerly almost alive with trout, and shaded 
 1)V the foliage of overhanging vines and branches. At 
 rig] it angles to the Pluton canon, from its northern side, 
 is a o'orge about half a mile in length, and but a few rods 
 in unequal width, with steep walls rising from 50 to 150 
 fiet. This little off-shoot is called the Devil's canon. 
 From its entrance at the Pluton canon its uneven 
 i-urface rises, and at the upper end it divides in two, 
 and mingles with the hills. A little creek with niinia- 
 ture falls and cascades runs through it, whose waters 
 jit tlieir scmrce are pure and cold, but which as they 
 <Ioscend soon become contaminated by their surround- 
 ings. Sometimes a i)artial footpath winds by the 
 stream, betwi i-n the rocks and mobile earth, but often 
 it is undermined or swept away. The entrance is but 
 a narrow rocky pass, roofed by fallen, but yet grow- 
 ing trees, adorned with fantastic roots, and partially 
 covered with debris and creeping plants. This en- 
 trance is called Proserpine's Grotto, and beyond it 
 the cailon widens a little. 
 
 The scene within is barren and ghastly. Bottom 
 and sides are skinned of every sign of vegetation, 
 and scorlated with suljihur, salts, and sl'my deposits. 
 Around the upper portion of the sides, the earth 
 assumes a reddish hue, below which it is marbled 
 with the ghastly colors of festering flesh, patches of 
 pale ashen and white, patches of frreen and slaty stain, 
 yellow sulphur snow and black sulphur root, with all 
 the intermediate shades of death and dissolution. 
 Hot springs burst forth from hot ground, spitting, 
 sputtering, hissing and panting in unmanageable 
 wrath. Through whistling steam and sickcninir sul- 
 phur, yawn horril)le mouths like the gates of Aver- 
 nus. It is as utterly infernal a place as can well be 
 imagined, lurid and murky, and sickening with heavy 
 vapor. In every hole and corner this model Pande- 
 monium seems iidiabited by shadowy fiends, and 
 every fiend to be doing his best to render his little 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 2 
 
18 
 
 THE VALLEY OF CAI IFORNIA. 
 
 crevice the particular liell of the place.* On the 
 bottom and along the sides are two hundred grinnhig 
 mouths spurthig liquids of every hue. Into tliis 
 sower of desolation and dire combustion, midst hissing 
 vapor and the stench of decomposing drugs, vomit 
 white blue and black sulphur springs, boirmg alum, 
 cpsom salts, and magnesia springs; iron and soda 
 springs; conglomerate and nondescript medicated 
 mixtures, until the little rivulet, nauseated by tlic 
 vile compound, turns wheyish in color, emits a faint 
 gurgle, tosses feverishly on its rocky bod, and then 
 slndvs along its slimy way. Round stinking pools 
 that fill the air with their fetid breath, are incrusta- 
 tions of iron, tartaric acid, copperas, and verdigris. 
 The clammy ground, crispy with sulphuric crystals, 
 rough with scoria3, quakes and sends forth noxious 
 gases. Waves of sulphuric seas thump against the 
 thin crust of the seemingly hollow earth ; jets of 
 liquid black leap hissing from blue-vitriol nuid, and a 
 cavernous roar echoes through the pitchy glen. 
 Nature, sick with sore boils, eaten by acids, palslod 
 and jaundiced, is smothered with alopathic abomina- 
 tions. 
 
 Pass Proserpine's Grotto and ascend the canon. 
 Pick your way carefully and plant your feet in the 
 footprints of the guide, else your legs may suffer for 
 the neglect. First there is an Iron and Alum si)ring, 
 with a temperature of 97° Fahrenheit ; then the 
 Medicated Geyser bath, containing h^on, sulphur, 
 cpsom salts and magnesia; Eye Water spring, om- 
 nipotent against ophthalmia ; and in the order men- 
 tioned Boiling Alum and sulphur spring, Black Sul- 
 plmr spring, Epsom Salts spring. Boiling Black 
 sulpjiur spring. The largest spring is the Witches' 
 Cauldron, situated two-thirds of the distance up tJie 
 canon, and the loudest the Steamboat Spring at the 
 head of the caiion. The Witches' Cauldron is a hole 
 or sink six or seven feet in diameter, of unknown 
 depth, and with a temperature of 292° Fahrenheit. 
 
 I 
 
VALLEY OP THE PLUTON. 
 
 10 
 
 n the 
 inning 
 o tins 
 lissing 
 
 vomit 
 
 alum, 
 (i scxla 
 liicated 
 by tlic 
 a faint 
 d then 
 T pools 
 icrusta- 
 !rdi;j;ris. 
 rystals, 
 noxious 
 inst the 
 
 jets of 
 I, and a 
 
 )alslod 
 oniina- 
 
 canon. 
 
 in the 
 
 Vor for 
 
 spring, 
 
 icn the 
 
 lulphur, 
 
 nir, om- 
 
 V.' ' 
 
 r nien- 
 ^k Sul- 
 
 Black 
 Pitches' 
 up the 
 
 at the 
 
 a hole 
 |ik!io\vn 
 
 enheit. 
 
 Seething and swashing like a troublous witches broth 
 stirred by subterranean imps, with no visible outlet, 
 its thick l)lack liquid bubbling sometimes to a height 
 of tliree or four feet, the bank near by begrimed like 
 a eliimney-back and just above blooming with beauti- 
 ful Kul[>hur crystals, Dante himself could not conceive 
 a more [jcrfect stygian pool. This black vapory pit 
 has been called also the Devil's Punch Bowl. It is 
 an insult to his Majesty, who knows full well how to 
 brew tiood punch. 
 
 Every si)ring lias its voice, its own peculiar strain ; 
 its busy l)abl)le, or surly grumble, or hollow moan, or 
 impotent sputter, or testy hiss, or angry roar, or 
 wild shriek, its vain spoutings or gleesome gurgle, 
 and throughout the ages the infernal choir ceases not 
 to deliver its united and discordant strains. But loud 
 above all voices and high above all sounds are tlic 
 puffings and roaring pulsations of tlie Steamboat 
 Geyser, which sends from the hillside in several fitful 
 volumes, through orifices from an inch to a foot in 
 diameter, columns of hot vapor to heights of from 
 50 to 200 feet. The sounds of which the name is 
 exi)ressive, are like those proceeding from the escape 
 ]>ipe of an engine. The roar is continuous, though 
 broken by pull's and louder bursts, while all around 
 from tiny holes in the spongy ground jets of hot 
 steam shoot upward, with a force and fury significant 
 of the contending elements beneath the surface. 
 Then tliere is the Intermittent Geysc>r, which belcluvs 
 boiling water spasmodically, vsometimes fifteen feet 
 and again only tliree or four feet; the Devil's Ink- 
 stand, which emits through a small aperture a bla( k 
 li<iuid that may be used l\)r writing, and whose stain 
 is indelible; the Devil's Grist-mill with its sputtering 
 clatter; the Devil's Kitchen, the Devil's Bake-oven, the 
 Devil's Wash-tub, the Devil's Tea-kettle, the Devil's 
 Pulpit, and the devil knows what else. All along 
 the banks of this Lethe stream, as you climb, fainting 
 with the heat and smells, between slippery rocks and 
 
20. 
 
 THE VALLEY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 over the seething uncertain ground, your blistering 
 feet perhaps ankle deep in mineral deposits, and lift- 
 ing themselves spasmodically from the heated earth, 
 you may see pools of slaty swash cxiialing a dock- 
 niud stench, steam whizzing through fissures, and 
 black compounds belching from slag and clinkcr- 
 rimmcd holes ; at which strange doings Helena groans 
 afresh, and fallen forest trees ten miles distant shudder 
 and turn to stone. 
 
 Here, as everywhere in dealing with the unknown, 
 men speculate upon the causes of these phenomena, 
 some holding that they are produced by volcanic action, 
 otliers by purely chemical forces. Side by side, only a 
 few inches apart, are hot springs and cold springs, boil- 
 ing springs and springs whose waters arc undisturbed. 
 An iron pipe terminating in a whistle inserted in one 
 of these steam orifices, sends forth a shrill shriek. 
 On the Pluton is the Indian spring, whither the na- 
 tives, who feared to enter the Devil's canon, have re- 
 sorted from time immemorial to bathe in its healingr 
 waters. There they erected a sweating-house, and 
 thither they carried their sick. Near tlie hot black 
 sulphur bath, which they have made, flows a stream 
 of clear cold water, into which, after their fjishion, 
 they plunge alternately. On one side of the Devil's 
 canon is the Mountain of Fire, honey-combed with 
 dead geysers, and stratifiec' with sulphur, epsom salts, 
 copperas, nitre, ammonia, tartaric acid, cinnabar, 
 magnesia, and yellow ochre. Near by are the vent 
 holes of a crater from which the steam whistles witli 
 great force. In early morning, before the overhang- 
 ing va[)ors are dissipated by the rising sun, the gorge 
 is filled with steam, which rolls off in huge banks be- 
 fore the wind. Above and beyond the edges of this 
 Tartarean pool, round which struggle pale sickly 
 trees, in the valley of the Pluton, and sometimes ap- 
 proaching coyishly to the very verge of the heated 
 waters, mountains, hills, and ravines are overspread 
 with a covering of fresh verdure and wild flowers, 
 
SAN FRANCISCO BAY. 
 
 21 
 
 5G, and 
 black 
 stream 
 ishkm, 
 Devil's 
 witli 
 1 salts, 
 nabar, 
 ic vent 
 s with 
 rliang- 
 goroe 
 iks bc- 
 )f this 
 sickly 
 es ap- 
 icated 
 prcad 
 wers. 
 
 made all the more luxuriant and charming by tlie 
 warmth of these infernal fires ; and to complete the 
 picture, at sunrise a weird rainbow, refracted from 
 sulphuric vapor, hovers in clear prismatic hues over 
 the canon, and h>ses itself in the glistening emerald at 
 either end. Turn then away, happy in the thought 
 that nature inflicts on man few such insights into her 
 sf)n!eries, but rather veils in beauty the mysterious 
 chemical processes of her laboratory. 
 
 Tlie great sink in the Coast Range, which lies before 
 us near the border of the ocean, and into which the 
 waters of the entire valley are drained, is another 
 marvel of nature, though utilized and made common 
 by man. But for the Golden Gate fissure or cleft, 
 which abruptly cuts in two the continuous coast line, 
 large areas in the interior would be perpetually under 
 water. Were the channel tlirough this blutf'-bound 
 gateway less deep, so that the ocean's ebb and flow 
 should not be felt within, San Francisco bav would 
 bo a lake. But better far as it is, a lake-like and wcll- 
 nigli land-locked harbor, larger than Rio de Janeiro, 
 and fairer tlian Naples; with all the glowing haze 
 jind delicious sweetness of the famous Neapolitan air, 
 l)ut without its subtle softness and enervating 
 languor. 
 
 Mount some warm misty morning to the top of 
 Yerba Buena island, which stands midway between 
 tlie cove to which it gave its name and Oakland 
 ])oint, and the prospect thence will scarcely fail to 
 kindle the eye, to swell the heart, and awaken long- 
 ings for other scenes. From this island's base spreads 
 out a mimic ocean, shaped like an arrow-point, sixty 
 miles in length by four or five in width, wliose radiant 
 waters flhig back the rays of the morning sun, or 
 ripple under the influence of wind and tide, and from 
 whoso borders, wavy hills roll up, smooth and round 
 as the bust of Canova's Venus, or dimpled like a 
 merry school-girl's face. These, interspersed with gen- 
 
22 
 
 THE VALI>EY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 1^1 
 
 ll: 
 
 tier slopes, and radiating valleys and ridges, and minia- 
 ture plains, through wJiicli thread numerous stream- 
 lets, were not long since tlic home of the prowling 
 panther and marauding cov ote, of wild-cat, bear, and 
 deer. Myriads of wild-fowl and sea-birds fished in 
 these waters, and quarreled, filling the air with their 
 shrill cries; while within the bay and without the por- 
 tal, and for 3000 miles along the shore, were seal-rocks, 
 w ith crawling monsters barking, enjoying their siesta, 
 or holding conference like sinful souls in purgatory. 
 
 Northward there is a maze of undulating elevations, 
 domes ridges and peaks, their outline toward the 
 ocean delicately penciled against the sky, and further 
 inland in the distance is a background of nebulous 
 mountains, the landscape lighted in places by unseen 
 watcrSj and all painted in soft aerial colors of varied 
 depth and tone. Toward the south the ridges on 
 eitlier side recede; the water broadens at fi'^'^^t, then 
 narrowing, melts away in hazy perspective. Beyond 
 is tlic great sea, smiling in azure or fretting in impa- 
 tient green and white, with its silence-breathing surf 
 singing ocean lullabies to the sleepy hills, or rolling in 
 from the horizon huge waves, which, dashing them- 
 selves against then' shore-limits, fall back foaming at 
 their own impotency. 
 
 Thus sculptured in the heart of the Coast Range, 
 some parts of the bay are narrow and deep like a 
 highland loch, with bluffs and promontories; in otlier 
 parts the water spreads out, and encircles large islands, 
 — Angel, Alcatraz, and Yerba Buena, — or washes a 
 diminutive beach. Its seaward shore is splintered 
 into points and estuaries; on the opposite side are 
 coves and graceful crescents ; while round the northern 
 end, where empties the Sacramento, are bays carved 
 within bays, straits and detp-flowing channels, and 
 sentinel islands and embankments. 
 
 The northern side of the Golden Gate is a steep, 
 dark, reddish wall, six or oin-ht hundred feet in heiglit. 
 From the top of this wall the hills mount and roll oif 
 
THE PEERLESS. 
 
 23 
 
 1 iiiinia- 
 streaiii- 
 rowling 
 ?ar, and 
 shed in 
 ;li their 
 the por- 
 d-roeks, 
 r siesta, 
 itory. 
 vations, 
 ard the 
 
 further 
 lebulous 
 
 unseen 
 f varied 
 jges on 
 "^^t, then 
 Beyond 
 n inipa- 
 hig surf 
 jlhng in 
 them- 
 niing at) 
 
 Range, 
 hkc a 
 
 in warm yellowish-green surges round Tamalpais, 
 deepening into purple as they rise in graceful alpine 
 outline and mingle with the clouds. Opposite this 
 bank the waters of the bay and ocean are separated 
 bv a ridge of argillaceous sandstone, severed at the 
 (iolden Gate so as to form a peninsula some six miles 
 at the northern end, and broadening into open high- 
 lands toward the south. Upon these so lately sand- 
 blown hills, freckled with tough, wind-defying 
 shrubbery, beneath whose branches quail and rabbits 
 loved to hide, and birds and rivulets sang together, is 
 )iow being planted the commercial metropolis of the 
 Farthest West; while all around this favored bay, 
 blustering in its strength and radiant in its beauty, 
 and already white with the sails of every ocean, in- 
 dustries are sprhiging up, towns and cities are being 
 built, and a race of men and women developing which 
 some day will make the nations marvel. The bay of 
 Kieselarke has been called golden because of its shin- 
 ing sands; but far more i)roi)er may our beautiful 
 sheet which from the first so gladdened the hearts of 
 tlie followers of St Francis rejoice in that name, for 
 not only are its shores golden, but its hills and skies, 
 its connjierce and its industries, its towns and people 
 are golden. 
 
 Fair California! clad in verdant spring vesture or 
 resting in arid robes under a metallic sky ; volu})tuous 
 in thy half-tropic bed, in thy sunlit valley warmed 
 with the glow of bronze and rosy lustre, redolent with 
 wild flowers, and billowy with undulating parks and 
 smooth corrugated mounds and swelliiii; heiohts, with 
 waving grass and fragrance-breathing forests, ca})ti- 
 vathig the mind, and ravishing the senses with thy 
 bewitching charms, and smiling plenty in alternate 
 seasons of refreshing rains and restful dryness; witli 
 thy lofty snow-capped peaks, and metal-veined Sierra, 
 and amethystine smooth-browed hills bathed in purple 
 mists and musical with leaping streandets and songs 
 
1 
 
 8^ THE VALLEY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 of birds; with tliy corridors of sundered stone, and 
 glacier valleys silvered with moonlit lakes, and cool 
 refreshing basins filled with transparent blue; with 
 thy boisterous alpine streams, and (juict lowland 
 rivers, and sluggish waters wanderinti: throULili char- 
 rcterless sloughs; with thy scraggy scattering oaks, 
 and tangled undergrowth, mirrored in crystalline pools, 
 and flowering shrubs, and mighty sable forests; with 
 thy sunlight soft and hazy, and air sea-scented and 
 sparkling yet mellow, sthnulating yet restful, and pure 
 and sweet as that which blows from Araby the Blest, 
 yet strong withal, wooing the sick and care-laden, 
 cooling the vein-swollen brow, thrilling the blood with 
 ocean's stinmlants and giving new life, not stifling it ; 
 with thy native men and beasts, and birds and fishes, 
 and fields of native grain, all hitherto unmarred bv 
 man, all fresh as from the hand of the creator revel- 
 ling in p/inieval joy and fragrance, while the valley 
 murmurs its contentment, and the forest cypress nods 
 its sable plume; crimson purple and violet in thy 
 blushing beauty veiled in misty gauze that rises fresh 
 ami glistening from the sun-beaten ocean, and fills the 
 heavens thick with spray or whirls oii" in eddying 
 clouds round the mountain tops, breakiiig from mina- 
 ret and spire into long streamlets edged by burnished 
 sunlight; voluptuous thus, or fierce in thy wild unrest, 
 in thy lashed energies fiery as A^chilles, whatever be 
 thy mood or circumstance, thou art a song of nature 
 rhijyinor an ever changing melody, thou art tlie smile 
 that lit Jehovah's face when he saw that it was good ! 
 
I, and 
 I cool 
 with 
 wlantl 
 char- 
 oaks, 
 pools, 
 ; with 
 •d and 
 d pure 
 Blest, 
 -laden, 
 »d with 
 ling it; 
 tishes, 
 red hv 
 r revel- 
 ; valley 
 ss nods 
 in thy 
 (S fresh 
 Us the 
 ddyinor 
 I nuna- 
 nished 
 unrest, 
 vcr be 
 nature 
 smile 
 t^ood ! 
 
 t 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THREE CENTURIES OP WILD TALK ABOUT GOLD IN CALI- 
 FORNIA.- 15:17- 18«7. 
 
 Tlirtisting, toiling, wailing, uuiiling, 
 
 Frowning, jireacliing — sndi a riot! 
 Each with ni'vt'r-i'oa.siiig lahor, 
 Wiiilst he tliiiiks ill! fheats liis neighbor, 
 
 C'licating liis own heart of (luiet. 
 
 ShiUfij. 
 
 Ix tliose days of unbridled adventure, when man 
 was perm*itt(>d to prey upon his fellow-man, and when 
 the many-sided world was as yet but p;u-tially known 
 to civilization, L(old was the chiefest good that strange 
 lands could vield, and hence every strang(> land, in 
 the imagination or desh-e of its discoverer, abounde<l 
 hi ijrold. So it was that California, even before it was 
 seen by any Si)aniard, was reputed, without reason, 
 lich in irold. What stories Cabeza de Vaca had to 
 tell, when he arrived from the IVIt^xican gulf at Culia- 
 ( an, in 1587, of the vast wealth of this whole northern 
 legion 1 As to the truth of the report, it must be 
 true, for it was the peo[)le of the country who had 
 informed him, thougli in language that he did not 
 understand, and of realms of which they knew noth- 
 ing. From the verv first a strong conviction i)ossessed 
 the minds of the comjuerors of ]\[exico that tlu^ west- 
 ern coast, ]>articularly tow.ird tlu; north, was rich in 
 gold and pearls; an<l so all through the century suc- 
 cessive ex])(!ditions were sent to the gulf of California, 
 and to the pt'iiinsula. 
 
 That most reverend and truthful man, Francis 
 Fletcher, preacher to the jiirate Drake, who, because 
 God commanded Adam to subdue the earth, felt it 
 
 (86) 
 

 2C 
 
 THREE CENTUTvIES OF WILD TALK. 
 
 Ills duty, as miuistcr of God and son of Adam, to ^^o 
 abroad on tliis eartli, and kill and steal to the full 
 limit of his capabilities; and who felt it likewise his 
 duty "to register the true and whole history of that 
 his voyage, with as great indifferency of aflection as a 
 history doth require, and with the plain evidence c.f 
 truth," — this right rare and thrice worthy gentleman, 
 as ho would say of his captain, saw strange things in 
 California; that Is to say, things strange to those who 
 know California, but credible enough three hundred 
 years ago to those who were never nearer to the spot 
 than its antipode. In July of 1571), the pirate, as his 
 preacher says, was met by peculiar and nipping colds. 
 The natives, he affirms, "vsed to come shivering to 
 vs in their warme furres, crowding close together, 
 body to body, to receiue heate one of another." Oh! 
 "how vnhandsomc and deformed appeared the face of 
 the earth it selfel" Birds dared not leave their nests 
 after the first (Vg was laid until all were hatched; 
 but nature had favored these poor fowl, so that they 
 might not die in the operation. The causes of these 
 ])henomena he next explains on scientific principles. 
 Because Asia and America are here so near together, 
 and by reason of the high mountains and the like, 
 "hence comes the generall squalidnesse and barren- 
 nesse of the countrie; hence comes it that, in the 
 middcst of their summer the snow hardly departeth 
 euen from their very doores, but is neucr taken away 
 from their hils at all ; hence come those thicke mists 
 and most stinking foggcs." Inland the country was 
 better. " Infinite was the company of very large and 
 fat Deere, which there we sawe by thousands . . . 
 besides a nmltitude of a strange kind of Conies . . . 
 his tayle like the taylo of a Rat." The savages were 
 exceedingly edified by the words of the preacher, by 
 his psalm-singhig, and his reading of the scriptures ; 
 so much so, that when the gentle pirates took their 
 leave, "with sighes and sorrowings, with hcauy hearts 
 and grieued minds, they powred out wofull complaints 
 
 I 
 
 
 ■4 
 
 i 
 
 'C. 
 
THE PIRATES rRKACHER. 
 
 27 
 
 , to ^'O 
 he full 
 Aac liis 
 of that 
 on as a 
 L'lice c.f 
 tleinan, 
 ihigs iu 
 )S0 who 
 luticlrcd 
 he spot 
 3, as his 
 if colds. 
 ;ring to 
 jgetlur, 
 ." Ohl^ 
 e face of 
 uir nests 
 latched ; 
 lat they 
 of these 
 inciples. 
 ogether, 
 he like, 
 barren- 
 in the 
 sparteth 
 m away 
 ie mists 
 try was 
 rjjfe and 
 As . . . 
 ies . . . 
 \es were 
 :lier, bv 
 iptures ; 
 bk their 
 ' hearts 
 1 plaints 
 
 and moan(>s, with bitter tearcs and wrinj^ing of their 
 hands, toruH'iitinjj; theinselues." This was exccedinj^ly 
 like tlie Callfoniia Dii'i'er, as was also their king, 
 
 bcf( 
 
 ■h 
 
 h 
 
 )f a U 
 
 Lp|)earnig, "came a man 
 body and goodly as[)oct, bearing the Septer or royall 
 mace, . . . whereupon hanged two crownes, a bigger 
 and a lesse, with three chaines of a maruellous lengtli," 
 and so on. It was with ditticulty that the English- 
 men picvented these people from worshipping them, 
 and oif'Ting sacrifice as unto gods ; and the eagerness 
 witli which tluy accepted Elizabeth for their sovereign 
 was i)l('asant to see. But about gold? "There is no 
 jiart of earth," says tlie preacher, "here to be taken 
 up wlierein tlu^re is not a reasonable quantity of gold 
 or silver." And again: "The earth of the country 
 siHiined to promise rich veins of gold and silver, some 
 of the ore being constantly found on digging." Even 
 a school-ijfirl would recoijnize in this the extra vaij^ance 
 of fiction. Climates change; simple savages might 
 mistake Drake's buccaneers for gods; but if gold and 
 silver ever existed amid the rocks and hills in the 
 neighborhood of Drake bay, the world has yet to 
 know it. 
 
 In Ids Noficia de la California, Miguel Venegas, 
 speaking of tlie voyage of Sebastian Vizcaino along 
 the shore of Upper California in 1G02, draws attention 
 to the royal cedula of the IDtli of August, IGOn, 
 granting Vizcaino permission to explore California, and 
 inserts that document in the first volume of his his- 
 toi'v. The kiiu' savs, referrin<; to Vizcaino's voyaije 
 of IG02, "que descubrio el dicho Sebastian Vizcaino 
 en la costa en mas de ochocientas leguas, que anduvo, 
 so informo, y que todos decian, haver latierra adentro 
 grandes poblaciones, y plata, y oro," — that the said 
 Vizcaino was told by the Indians aloiiir the whole 
 coast of 800 leat'-ues which he discovered, of lartre S(>t- 
 tlements in the interior, and of silver and gold. 
 " Whence Vizcaino is inclined to believe," the king 
 continues, "that great riches may be discovered, es- 
 
28 
 
 THIIEE CENTURIES OF WILD TALK, 
 
 i 
 
 iv 
 
 pooially as in sonic parts of the land veins of metals 
 arc to be scon;" — porquc en alijjunas partes en la 
 tiorra firnie dcscubrian betas dc nietales. Thus, there 
 is little wonder tluit very early the rumor was abroad 
 that tliore was <fold in California, thou«j;h without any 
 foundation, as the interior had never yet been visited 
 by white men. 
 
 As far from the truth as the preacher's story and 
 the king's story, is the statement passed from one 
 writer to another without conmient, that I^oyola Ca- 
 bello, a priest of the mission of San Jose, bay of San 
 Francisco, on returning to Spain published, in 1000, 
 a work on Alta Callfoniia, in which the existence of 
 gold in placers was mentioned. I do not know whom 
 to jiold res[)onsible for starting this fiction, though one 
 Goori^o jNI. Evans has been active in cU'culatinix it. 
 We can only wonder that so many respectable persons 
 have re[)eated it as fact. In the first place no such 
 bonk was ever })ublished. Secondly, in 1 090, and for 
 nearly a century thereafter, there was no San Jose 
 mission on the Bav of San Francisco, though there 
 was a San Jose del Cabo, near Ca|)e St Lucas. Lastly, 
 if there was such a man, and such a book, and such a 
 place, there was no gold there. 
 
 Fortunately for mankind, believing a thing, or fan- 
 cying a belief in it, be it never so sincerely or strongly, 
 does not make it true; nor is seeing always believing, 
 when perforce, one must see through the eyes of sail- 
 ors, whose statements are proverbially unreliable. 
 "Do Gualle saw many islands eastward of Japan in 
 latitude 32° and 33',' Sfivs old Arthur Dobbs; and 
 sailing further cast, he saw many populous and rich 
 islands, some with volcanoes, which abounded with 
 gold, cotton, and fish. . .Gemelli mentions rocks seen 
 in latitude 30°, and an island said to be rich in gold ; 
 and also another in latitude 32°, called Rica de 
 Plata, which from their names and abounding in 
 gold, may be supposed to be well iidiabited." 
 By how many have these gold bearing islands been 
 
DIVERS DKCKPTKINS. 
 
 metals 
 cii la 
 4. tlicro 
 al)rt)a«l 
 )ut any 
 visited 
 
 »rv and 
 i)ni one 
 ola Ca- 
 
 of San 
 n 1090,^ 
 :enco oi 
 w whom 
 iU;jjh one 
 itinur it. 
 I persons 
 no such 
 , and fi»r 
 Ian Jose 
 fh there 
 
 Lastly, 
 such a 
 
 [, or fan- 
 ^tron<j;ly, 
 >hevln*2;, 
 of sail- 
 (relial)le, 
 apan in 
 ^hs; and 
 md rich 
 with 
 ^ks seen 
 lin <]fold ; 
 ;,ica de 
 icling in 
 labited." 
 Ids been 
 
 since visited, antl how nmch metal has been taken 
 from them ? 
 
 Perliaps twenty times the followlnj^ passajjfo in 
 Shflvix'Le, A l'(>i/<i(/r licnnid tlic World in 171i)~2'J, by 
 no means a rare or remarkable book, has been pointed 
 out to me by men whoso superficial investii^ations 
 have led them to believe that jjjold was known to exist 
 ill California nearly two centuries a_<j;o. Here is the 
 passage : " The eastern coastof that part of California 
 which I had a sight of, appears to bo mountainous, 
 barren and sandy, and very like some parts of Peru; 
 but nevertlieless, the soil about Puerto Seguro, and 
 very likely in most of the valleys, is a ricli, black 
 mould, which as you turn it fresh up to the sun ap- 
 pears as if inti-rmingled with gold dust, some of which 
 we endeavored to wash and i)urify from the dirt; but 
 though wo were a little prejudiced against the 
 thoughts tl'.at it could bo possible that this metal 
 should be so promiscuously and universally mingled 
 with common earth, vet wo endeavored toclcanscand 
 wash the earth from some of it, and the more wo did 
 the more it appeared like gold; but in order to be 
 fuHher satisfietl, I brought away some of it which we 
 lost in our confusions in Chii^a." 
 
 Now in the first place this navigator — whose map 
 bv the wav shows the two Californias too:ether as an 
 island — never was in Alta California at all; and sec- 
 ondly, he may or he may not have seen particles of 
 something resembling gold at Cape St Lucas, the 
 only point at which he touched. In a word, what- 
 ever he saw or said has nothing whatever to do with 
 the discovery of gold in the Sierra foothills. And 
 yet I have seen printed in more than one Pacific 
 coast newspaper this statement of Shelvocke's without 
 any reference to the fact, and apparently without the 
 knowledge of it, that the California referred to was 
 not Tipper California, 
 
 At the time Shelvocke was engaged in his circum- 
 navigation, the Hudson's Bay Company was explor- 
 
30 
 
 THllEE CENTURIES OF WILD TALK. 
 
 ing to the westward. Almost as much as gold-pro- 
 (luchig mountains tlie world wanted inter-oceanic 
 communication. From Patagonia, northward, nearly 
 to the land's end, the seaboard had been searched in 
 vain for a passage ; only the part between Hudson 
 bay and the Pacific remaining yet unexplored. In 
 1719 two vessels, the jUhany Frirjatc, Captain (Jrcorge 
 Barlow, and the Discovery, Captain David Vaughn, 
 wvre fitted out for the purpose of examining the 
 the western side of Hudson bay, and passing 
 thence through the strait of Anian into the Pacific. 
 This strait, the discover}'' of whicli was so eagerly de- 
 sired, was believed to exist ; it was even laid down in 
 charts, and there were some who said that they had 
 seen it, others that tliey had entered it, though 
 all tlie while it existed onlv in imagination. James 
 Knight was given command of the expedition, and 
 was "with the first opportunity of wind and 
 weather, ti) depart from (irravesend on his intended 
 voyage, and by God's })ermission, to find out the 
 strait of Anian, in order to discover gold and 
 other valuable commodities to the northward." !Mr 
 Knight entered upon the task with enthuslam, though 
 then eiglity years of age, and " procured, and took 
 with lilm some largo iron-bound chests to held gold- 
 dust and other valuables, which he fondly fiattered 
 hnnself were to be found in those parts." Not hear- 
 ing from the expedition, many conjectured, as Sanmel 
 Hearne remarks, "that IVIessrs Kniijht and Barlow 
 had found that passage, and had gone through it into 
 the South Sea by the way of California," and it was 
 not known until fifty years later, when Hearne was 
 undertaking his Coppermine river expedition, that 
 they had not found the Anian strait, and had not 
 filled their iron-bound chests with the gold of Califor- 
 nia, but had all been lost in Hudson bay. 
 
 The Shining Mountains — as the Sierra Nevada 
 and Cascade Range were called by those who wrote 
 geography a hundred years ago — were deemed from 
 
GOLD IX THE SHINING MOUNTAINS. 
 
 31 
 
 )kl-pro- 
 occanic 
 , iiearlv 
 clicd ill 
 Hudson 
 ed. Ill 
 George 
 '^auglin, 
 iiiil the 
 passing 
 Pacific, 
 erly de- 
 down in 
 ley hatl 
 thouiih 
 James 
 on, and 
 I id and 
 ntended 
 out the 
 )ld and 
 1." Mr 
 tliougli 
 id took 
 lid jT^old- 
 attered 
 )t hear- 
 Saniuel 
 Bailow 
 it into 
 it was 
 ne was 
 tliat 
 lad not 
 
 )vada 
 wrote 
 
 frc 
 
 current reports something wonderful long before their 
 treasures were disclosed. " This extraordinary range 
 of mountains," says Jonathan Carver in 1700, "is cal- 
 culated to be more than 3,000 miles in length, with- 
 out any very considerable intervals, which I believe 
 sarj)assos any tiling of tlie kind in the other quarters 
 of tlie ^i^lolte. Probably in future ages they may be 
 found to contain more riches in their bowels than 
 those of Indostan and Malabar, or that are ]m)duced 
 on the Gokh'U coast of (jruinea ; nor will I excejit 
 ev(Mi the Peruvian mines." 
 
 No little excitement occurred in Mexico aliout the 
 time of the expulsion of the Jesuits, who, it was re- 
 ]);)rt(xl, had found extensive deposits of gold on the 
 ]u>ninsula of California, and had concealed the fact 
 from the government. It was hi the rivers, hi the 
 rocks, an<l in the soil, peojilo said, and the supposed 
 concealment as to the spot containing the precious 
 nu>tal, on the part of the Jesuits, tended in no wise 
 toward delaying their enforced departure. To prove 
 the matter Josd (lalvez, marquis of Sonora, accom- 
 panied by Miguel Jose de Azanza, in 1769 passed over 
 into (California and instituted a search. A few weeks 
 of fruitless endeavor satisfied Azaiiza, who r(>turned 
 to Mexico, saying that the numpiis was insane to 
 continue tlie search : for the expression of which 
 opinion Azanza was incarcerat(^d, and kept in jirison 
 for a time, (ialvez found notlung, however, though 
 the Jesuits afterward affirmed inFrance that it was 
 true they had found gold. Tiiis was jn-obably said in 
 order to occasion regret in the minds of those who had 
 caused their expulsion. Ail this of course is irn^le- 
 vant to the present ])urpose, except that in the loose 
 and general refi-rence made to the event, it is not 
 stat{>d, and often not known, that the J(>suits were 
 never in Upjier California, and that the search of 
 (lalvez and A^zanzt was confined strictly to the penin- 
 sula of Lt.- ,r Caiif'irnia. 
 
 Such facts, mutilated and misstated, floatin<jr iti the 
 
■t 
 
 32 
 
 THREE CENTURIES OF WILD TALK. 
 
 minds of ij^iioraiit persons who receive them at second 
 or twentietli hand, lead to remarks like the followinj^ 
 by Mr Simpson, author of Three Weeks in the Gold 
 /iV/Z/ms, published hi 1848. "It" also known that 
 an expedition was fitted out by the governor of Sonora 
 during the last century, which owing to various dis- 
 couragements failed. 
 
 In his Travels in Mexien, when near the mouth of 
 the Colorado in IS'Jfi, Lieutenant Hardy sajs: "The 
 sand is full of a glittering sort of tinsel, which shines 
 beautifully when the sun is ujion it. It is common 
 all over Sonora, and is, I imagine, nothing more than 
 broken laniiuje of talc, the surface of which being 
 })robably in a state of decom})osition, the original 
 color is c!-anged to that of cop})er and gold. It 
 ciiinibles easily between the fingers, and cannot there- 
 fore^ be metidlic; but its delusi\e appearance may pos- 
 sibly have given rise to the reports, which were 
 sj>read, as it is supposed, by the Jesuits, who formerly 
 tMideavored to make an establishment upon the river, 
 of t;old dust beino: intermixed with the sand." Fav- 
 ette Kobinson thinks the Jesuit j)riests were aware of 
 the existence of gold in California, meaning Lower 
 California, but can-fully diverted the attention of tiie 
 natives from it in favor of mission labor. Oslo in his 
 manuscript Jlisforia <le California expresses the opinion 
 that the Franciscans were too busy with conversions 
 to ascertain whether the river sands held gold. The 
 recent conjectures, he savs, that thev knew of gold 
 are not probable, because the secret could not have 
 been kept among so many. 
 
 Since 1775 the Mexicans have met with silver in the 
 vicinitv of the Colorado, and some sav with small de- 
 posits of placer gold, but with none that would yield 
 profitable returns. Very soon after the organization of 
 the missions in Lower California, converted Indians sent 
 iito tlie upper country to persuade the natives there 
 to listen to tlie teaciiings of the padrer,, talked, on 
 their return, of the shining sand that they saw in 
 
 
 St 
 
SHININfi SANDS OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 88 
 
 second 
 llovvinj^j 
 le (/old 
 ,'n that 
 Soiiora 
 aus clis- 
 
 outli of 
 : "The 
 ti sliines 
 ?oiumou 
 >re than 
 h boiiujf 
 original 
 old.' It 
 )t tliorc- 
 [uay pos- 
 ch were 
 formerly 
 10 river, 
 " Fay- 
 aware of 
 I Lower 
 n of tiie 
 no in his 
 3 opinion 
 versions 
 d. The 
 of gold 
 ot have 
 
 ler in tlie 
 iniall de- 
 dd yield 
 Ization of 
 lianssent 
 :>s there 
 |ked, on 
 saw In 
 
 the streams, and in the ravines which thoy had 
 traversed. But so conunon were these reports, so 
 fiiniiJlar were the conquerors with the presence of 
 precious metals everywhere within the subjugated 
 domain, that a s])rinkiin<; more or less, here or there, 
 was little regarded. Nevertheless, it is reported that 
 later they huilt furnaces, and brought sand from the 
 seashore \o be used in smelting antimotiial silver lead. 
 A nmp was made of southern California in 1775 
 by a priest sliowing the exph>rations of the Jesuits on 
 the Ct)lora(lo river for several hundred miles, and 
 thence to tlie Tulare valley. J. H. Carson is the 
 author of a little book, printed in Stockton in 1852, 
 I'utitled Karn/ J Urol lections of the Mines, and a Iksmp- 
 '<nn of the (ircat Tidare Valley, awA worth fifty times 
 
 % ii wei*dit hi ixold. This writer was informed that in 
 tiie Mexican archives was a letter from a priest, dated 
 at one of the Jesuit missions in 177G, notifying the 
 govrnment that while searching the niountains for 
 
 i mission sites he and his confreres had met with pure 
 silver in masses weighing several tons, and that th(\y 
 
 i had forbidden all mention of the matter under pain 
 
 I of excommunication and death, lest a sudden influx 
 of population should destroy their schemes for con- 
 version. Upon the strength of this assertion Wright 
 and his associates fitted out an expedition under a 
 Mr Ho\ t, who proceeding to California from Mexico, 
 in due ti-ne sent back a letter with rich specimens of 
 silver ore, ilmost solid, as Mr Wright declared. 
 NLitl er iJoyt or any of the party returned, nor were 
 ihe}- ever lje.iiil from: and it was supposed that they 
 were manl mm' iiy the natives. Exploruig at a nmch 
 later period in the vicinity of Moore creek, Carson 
 encountered a shaft sunk apparently twelve or twenty 
 years before. Part of the windlass was still standing, 
 though in a state of decay, and the ])lacc agreed with 
 the description given by Hoyt. When Carson ques- 
 tioned the natives about it, he was told that the shaft 
 had 'i't^n sutik by Mexicans who had been in that 
 
 •'.",' '» 1st. I'oc. 8 
 
84 
 
 THIiEE CENTURIES OF WILD TALK. 
 
 neiijjhborhood but who had since diod ; the gentle 
 savages failed to mention the manner of their taking 
 off. 
 
 Referring to the Diccionario Gcoproficn-Histn'n'o dc 
 las IiuUas OccideviaJcs o America of Antonio de Alcetlo, 
 published in Madrid in 1786-9, we find stated that in 
 California, " provincia de la America Septentrional, y 
 la I'lltima parte de ella en lo descubierto jlcia el norte " are 
 many wonders. Strange animals are there, and some 
 that the Spaniards introduced, which have multi})lied 
 enormously. There are insects, snakes, tarantulas, 
 and ants without number, but no fleas, bed-bugs, or 
 chegoes. A-^ prone to mendacity as I have ever found 
 Air Dunbai. " is not prepared to meet in his 
 Romance of the ■■ so bold a misreprese itation as 
 that Alcerh) " positively asserts the existence of gold in 
 California, even in lumps of five to eight pounds," and 
 tliat in face of the plain statement : " No se han des- 
 cubierto minas ; pcro hay bastantes indicios de que 
 existen de todos metales." 
 
 At Alizal, near Monterey, silver is said to have 
 been found in 1 802. Remarking how deep benea theth 
 surface lay the precious metals in the interior of north- 
 ern Mexico Humboldt, after his visit in 1803, ex- 
 pressed the opinion that toward the north gold might 
 be found in large quantities near the su^ -tee. 
 
 Knowledge of the existence of furnaces, used in 
 tlie smelting of silver ore, in the southeastern part of 
 California, or in the Colorado river region, is vaguely 
 tracetl back to 1808. An exploring party from Stock- 
 ton in 1800, in search of silver lodes, met in the 
 vicinity of these furnaces a party of Mexicans with 
 like intentions. With the Mexicans was an ancient 
 aboriginal, Jose el Venadero he was called, one hun- 
 dred years of age, who stated that these furnaces were 
 in use when Mexico first threw off the yoke of Spain, 
 fifty -two years ago. He was a mission Indian at the 
 time, and the Spanish soldiers stationed at the furnaces 
 to protect the workmen from the natives were with- 
 
 
 I 
 
 -* 
 
 I 
 
 1))!' ii^l 
 
 ht»aftii rtiTii 11 
 
SUTTER AND THE RUSSIANS. 
 
 S6 
 
 gentle 
 taking 
 
 iiorio de 
 AlcccU), 
 that in 
 rional, y 
 ivie " are 
 [id sdnic 
 ultiplied 
 rantulas, 
 -bugs, or 
 er found 
 b in his 
 ation as 
 »f gold in 
 luls," and 
 han dcs- 
 5 de que 
 
 to have 
 nea theth 
 of north- 
 1803, ex- 
 Id might 
 
 used in 
 li part of 
 vaguely 
 n Stock- 
 t in the 
 ans with 
 ancient 
 ne hun- 
 ces were 
 if Sp'lin, 
 ni at 1/1 le 
 farnaoes 
 fere with- 
 
 drawn during tlic revolution. A large body of natives, 
 headed by liis brotlier who was a chief, then attacked 
 and killed tlie miners, and the priests who were with 
 t!i( lu : since which time the lode has not been worked, 
 and the ])lace had been forgotten by all except those 
 engaged in tlie massacre. M. S. Brock way saw there 
 ill 18j1 veins of antimonial silver. 
 
 Count Scala writing in the NoiiveUcs AnvaJes (ks 
 Vniiaijcs, in 1854, asseits that althougli local tradition 
 has not jneserved any souvenir of the excursions of 
 tlie llussians into the auriferous re ijions wliich have 
 since been !)f such value to California, yet there are 
 unanswerable proofs that several officers of the Rus- 
 sian comjiany have ai ditl'erent times, between the 
 years 1812 and 1841, ])rocured a considerable quantity 
 of metal from the native tribes of Yuba and Chico. 
 "Nous montroros tout a I'heure," he goes on to say, 
 " (juc c'est aux Kusses de Bodega que les Americains 
 sont redcvables de 1' hcureuse decouverte qui leur 
 donne aujourd' hui la faculte d'etendre leur souver- 
 aincte dans la Nouvclle-Grenade et le Nicaragua, et 
 d'imposer leur influence a toutcs les republiques es- 
 ]>agnoles du Pa(iH(]ue." In })roof of his premise 
 Scala's chain of argument is not in every link consis- 
 tent with fact. I will give it for what it is worth. 
 He does not know hov it occurred, or wliat might 
 have been the nature of the senices which Sutter 
 had rendered to the govermnent of Archangel, but 
 certain it is that one day the cajitain arrived in Cali- 
 fornia well n^conmiended to the authorities .it Ross and 
 Bodega, M. Goriett", a rich merehant established at 
 Yakoutsk, pretends to have shown him in 1838 or 
 183D a score of "kilos de lingots d'or et de pepites," 
 which he had gathered live years before in the Sac- 
 ramento valley, whileon an excursion with the rifxihros 
 of the company. And Goriefl' counselled Sutter to 
 devote himself exclusively to the investigation of these 
 auriferous lands. However that might have been, 
 Scala continues, "no one then in California was igno- 
 
i!| 
 
 99 
 
 THREE CENTURIES OF WILD TALK. 
 
 rant of tlic existence of gold in tlio Sierra Nevada 
 districts. The Creoles had often bouglit it from tlsc 
 Indian hunters, and in tlie time of the Spaniards the 
 missions had secretly procured it in large quantities. 
 The only obstacles which for a century had hindered 
 the workuig of these mines by white men were tlie 
 well known ferocity of the wild Indians, and ignorance 
 of the exact position of tlie placers. After having 
 made several excursions in the country pointed out to 
 him by M. Gorieff, Sutter went to tlie governor at 
 Monterey and asked a grant of the lands. This 
 grant, which comprised an area measuring eighty 
 kilometres in length and sixteen in width, was 
 traversed by the route from San Francisco to the 
 American posts on the Columliia river. It was a 
 virgin region, abounding in game, profusely watered, 
 rich in pasturage, and surrounded bv mild-mannered 
 tribes. Tliere Sutter establislied himself as trapper, 
 hunter, and agriculturist. When in 1841 the Rus- 
 sians evacuated Ross they sold to him tlieir material, 
 l)y which means he became strong enough success- 
 fully to withstand the provincial government. Thus 
 was due to the Russians, the conclusion is, the gold 
 dis(H>very in California, and her consequent greatness." 
 Here ends C >unt Scala, whom I have translated 
 accurately, if somewhat freely. 
 
 It is possible, even probable, that the Russians of 
 Ross and Bodega knew of the existence of gokl in 
 the Sierra f»)t)thills. They had every o[)portunity for 
 acquiring such knowledge, being in frequent conmiu- 
 nication with tlie inhaliitants of that region; and 
 there was no special inducement for them to notify 
 the Mexicans of the fact. But as for Sutter being 
 aware beforehand of the existence of gold in the 
 vicinity of New Helvetia, I am sure tiiat he was 
 not; first, because he told me so, and secondly, bc?- 
 cause, if he had known it his line of conduct would 
 have been different. Further than this, it is not true 
 that tlie Indios bravos were so fierce as successfully 
 
 if! 
 
8CALA AND SUTTER. 
 
 37 
 
 Nevada 
 rom tl'.c 
 irds the 
 lantitica, 
 liindercil 
 ;vcre the 
 rnorauce 
 r haviiuj; 
 sd out to 
 rcrnor at 
 Is. This 
 g eighty 
 idth, ' was 
 :o to the 
 It was a 
 watered, 
 mannered 
 s trapper, 
 tlie Kus- 
 niaterial, 
 li success- 
 lit. Thus 
 the gold 
 reatness. 
 translated 
 
 lussians of 
 l)f gold iu 
 iunitv for 
 [t conunu- 
 gion ; and 
 to notify 
 ttcr being 
 lid ' in the 
 it he was 
 fondly, bc- 
 ict would 
 Is not true 
 iccessfuUy 
 
 to guard their gold from the Russians. Tliey woie 
 not'^ fierce at all, hut ratlier as Sutter found them 
 " aux nioeurs douces et fiiciles.' 
 
 Hitliiiski tells of a laborer, a servant of tlie Rus- 
 sian American Company in California, wlio one day 
 Avtiit to tlie commandant with tlie story that he had 
 scrn gold in the bed of a stream, and advised that a 
 party" be sent to examine it. The man was told to 
 miiui his own business. 
 
 Add to the statement of Scala the testimony of 
 (Toveriior Alvaradi), given in the first volume of his 
 Jlisforia (k California, and it is almost certain that the 
 Russians of Ross and Rodcga were aware of the ex- 
 istence of gold in the valley of California as early as 
 1814. During the administration of Governor Ai- 
 gUdlo, Alvarado says that gold was found in the 
 jtossession of a Russian, El Loco Alexis he was called. 
 The man was in jail at Monterey at the time, impris- 
 oned with three others, pt'rhaps for drunk(Miness, or 
 for killing beaver, or, more likely, for being Russians. 
 Alexis would not tell how or where he obtained the 
 gold, and as he was shortly afterward sent to Sitka, 
 nothing came of it. Alvarado does not hesitate to 
 assert further that "we well knew of the existenct* of 
 gold di'posits on the slopes of the northern mountains, 
 but the Indians, who were so much more numerous 
 than we, prevented our exploring in that direction." 
 
 Because Phillips, in his Minerahfpj, edition of 1818, 
 spoke of gold in California, many thought he liad 
 knowledge of the existence of that metal in the Sierra 
 foothills. 
 
 In the possession of the San Francisco Society of 
 Pioneers is a" stone tablet, indicating the discovery of 
 gold on Feather river in 1818. It was presented to 
 the society by W. F. Stewart in 18G8, and is held in 
 great estimation by the wise men of the dav. The 
 stone is of hard, yellowish, sandy texture, about twelve 
 inches in length by an average of three inches in width, 
 
THREE CENTURIES OP \^^LD TALK. 
 
 M 
 
 ,iii 
 
 III 
 
 and one incli thick. It is flat, and on one side are 
 deeply cut, in legible letters, these words : 
 
 1818 
 
 GOLD 
 CAVE 
 IN TlIM 
 M. .SHIP 
 LODBM 
 L M 
 
 This cabalistic stone is said to have been picked up 
 on the west branch of Feather river, in 1850, by 
 William Thomas, and given by him to A. J. Pithan, 
 of San Jose, in 1851. Mr Thomas, after dilig<>nt 
 search, was unable to find the gold cave. Discussions 
 of possibilities or probabilities are wholly useless. Tlie 
 chances are a hundred to one, in my opinion, that 
 some miner of 1849 cut the letters for pastime, and 
 then threw the stone away, or gave it to some one to 
 make a good story out of 
 
 And now comes Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo with 
 similar testimony, that the Spaniards in California 
 kninv of gold, but could not profit by their knowledge 
 on account of the Indians. In the first volume of his 
 Illsforiade California he further states that, in 1824, 
 wliilo Captain Pablo do la Portilla was encamped at 
 San Emilio, Lieutenant Antonio del Valle, who had 
 a stock of beads, blankets, and tobacco, traded his 
 goods with the Chauchilas and Jozhnas for fourteen 
 thousatid dollars in gold, "cliis[)as de oro," emphasiz- 
 ing his statement by the further assertion that " el 
 teniente del valle trajo el oro d Monterey, y lo he 
 tenido en mis manos ; y por eso respondo de la verdad 
 del hechc." 
 
 Jose de Jesus Pico, still living in San Luis Obispo, 
 asserts that Father Martinez, the minister of the mis- 
 sion of that name, gave him and three fellow-soldiers, 
 in 1821), twenty ounces of gold in one ounce balls, and 
 that he believes the father must have picked it up at 
 the place named San Jose, near the mission. He 
 buspected that several Spaniards were for a time 
 
 
SOME PROPHECIES. 
 
 side arc 
 
 picked up 
 1850, by 
 r. Pitlian, 
 r dili*^eiit 
 libcussions 
 less. The 
 [lion, that 
 stiine, and 
 me one to 
 
 dlejo with 
 California 
 cnowledge 
 unie of his 
 , in 1824, 
 
 anipc'd at 
 
 who had 
 
 traded his 
 
 >r fourteen 
 
 eniphasiz- 
 
 that "el 
 y lo he 
 
 la verdad 
 
 ) 
 
 lis Obispo, 
 f the mis- 
 vv-soldiers, 
 balls, antl 
 ed it up at 
 sion. He 
 or a timt^ 
 
 secretly engaged at the mission in refining gold and 
 silver, because the father had many flasks of (juicksil- 
 ver, as well as instruments and materials for refining 
 those metals. 
 
 Jedediah Smith is accredited with having found 
 placer gold near Mono lake, on the way back from 
 California, wliither he had led a party from the Salt 
 Lake country in I 825. Thomas S})rague, writing to 
 Edniond Iliindol}>h, in 18G0, states that he was well 
 aware of the fact, and that the spot where the gold 
 was fitund was on the route to Salt lake, and east by 
 nortli from Mono lake. Quite a (juantity of this gold. 
 Smith brouglit back with him to the American Fur 
 Company's encamjunent on Green river. His j)artners 
 Were so J (leased with his success that they induced 
 liim to return to tlie gold field, in which attempt he 
 lost Jiis life. The defeat of tlie party by Indians dis- 
 couraged the company, and they abandoned their 
 searcli f )r gold. Mr Sprague's statement as to tlie 
 route of Smith to and from California is only i)artially 
 correct. 
 
 As furtlier evidence that gold was believed to exist 
 ill California, may be mentioned certain laws and reg- 
 ulations framed by the Mexican government. Refer- 
 ring to the Vallejo ( 'olrcrio)) de Donnnoitos, we find that 
 on "tlie IDthof July, 1828, President CJuadalupe Vic- 
 toria transmitted to the governor of California a decree 
 of the Mexican congress equally ai>plica])le to all tlie 
 ^[exican states and territories. All prtivious decrees 
 prohibiting the export of gold and silver bullion were 
 revoki'd, and states were permitted to collect duties. 
 Bars, (pioits, and rails nmst be numbered and stampcMl 
 with weiglit and fineness. Another decree, of the 
 13th of Septemher, lays down the rules for the ex[»or- 
 tation of gold and silver bullion. Permits might be 
 obtained by jjresenting petition and invoices at the; 
 custom-house. Then the formalities i)rescribed for 
 the authorities of the custom-house are given at great 
 length, besides a number of stipulations and penalties. 
 
'40 
 
 THREE CENTURIES OF WILD TALK. 
 
 Upon the assertion of M. Duflot do Mofras mainly 
 rests the discovery of gold at San Isidro, in S'U 
 Diego county by a man from Guanajuato about 1828. 
 " A San Isidro," he says in the first >olume of his Ex- 
 j)hmitlon du Tcrritoire deV Oregon, dcs Californics, ct de 
 la Mer Vcrmeille, Paris, 1844, "tl quatorze lieucs dans 
 Test de San Diego, on trouve des mines d'or et d'ar- 
 gent qui furent exploitees il y a quinze ans par un 
 hommc de Guanajuato." 
 
 Padre Viader, a priest at Mission Santa Clara, is 
 said to have [)ossessed the gift of prophecy. Two 
 years before it occurred, he foretold the drouglit of 
 1821), and advised the<people to prepare for it, and 
 plant double the usual area. He likewise predicted 
 the discovery of gold in California, and the transfer 
 of that land to another nationality. This reminds 
 one of the many signs and omens pointing to the fall 
 of Monteruma, and the Mexican conquest, which oc- 
 cured during the century preceding that event. 
 
 Another prophet, who died hi 1830, was Padre 
 Magln Catahi, of this same mission. Among other 
 things he j)redicted that great riches would be found 
 in the north, and that people would flock thither in 
 great numbers. It is safe to affirm that among peo- 
 ple of extraordinary piety no important event ever 
 happens but that after the occurrence many persons 
 can be found who said that it would be so. 
 
 And now for the statement of a savage among 
 others who testify. Puleule, a Yuba, swore, as soon 
 as he had acquired that civilized accomplishment, that 
 when he was a boy, say in 1830, he had often amused 
 himself by picking from the gravel large pieces of 
 gold and throwing them into the water. 
 
 Manuel Victoria writing the Ministro de Rclaciones 
 says in 1831 that there are no mines of any value in 
 California ; that the pagans know of none ; and that 
 it is the opinion of experts that there are no minerals 
 in the country. 
 
 The unreliable editor of Tlie Natural Wealth of Cali- 
 
'^ 
 
 s mainly 
 , in S.*n 
 )ut 1828. 
 )f his Ex- 
 lies, et de 
 sues dans 
 r ct d'ar- 
 s par uu 
 
 Clara, is 
 •y. Two 
 
 ought of 
 »r it, and 
 predicted 
 ! transfer 
 , reminds 
 o the ftill 
 which oe- 
 nt. 
 
 as Padre 
 
 )ng other 
 
 be found 
 
 hither in 
 
 [long peo- 
 
 ent ever 
 
 V persons 
 
 among 
 as soon 
 lent, that 
 li amused 
 bieces of 
 
 lelaciones 
 lvalue in 
 land that 
 I minerals 
 
 of Cali- 
 
 WARNER'S VHEORY 
 
 41 
 
 1 
 
 I'M 
 
 fornia, states that the first gold was found in the 
 Santa Clara valley in 18:};{, and that other deposits 
 were discovered in various i)laces in the Sierra INladre, 
 
 Blount, the pioneer, assured Bishop Kip in 18G4, 
 that thirty years before, that is to say in 1884, he en- 
 countered ore, wliich at the time ho thought to be 
 copixr, but tlun knew to be gold. The bishop dis- 
 plays extreme credulity even in repeating such a 
 statement. About on a par with this is the assertion 
 of Mr CJray, who wrote what he calls a TlisUm/ of 
 Orcf/on, tiiat two jovial })riests. brought to the Oregon 
 coasts by the Hudson's Bay Comi)any, discovered, 
 when wandering among the Bocky Mountains, pare 
 silver and gokk'n ores, specimens of which they car- 
 rle<l to St Louis and Europe. What their jollity had 
 to do with it the historian does not explain; nor does 
 he give us proof that any assertkni of this kind Was 
 made bv them prior to the discoverv of Marshall. 
 
 (Governor Alvarado thinks it imj)ertinence on the 
 part of Sutter and ]\[arshall to claim the honor of the 
 ii'old discovorv ; for in the fourth volume of his His- 
 i<iria <lc California he observes, "que el pueblo Amer- 
 icano es esencialmente egoista cuando trata do hacer 
 apare^er al sefior Marshall como primer descubridor 
 dil oro en California; (|U0 en buena hora la legislatura 
 de premios y pensiones ii (juienes so le Antoje, yo no 
 me mezelo en esos asuntc^s, desde que mi voz seri'a 
 (l(Mnasiado debil para efectuar reformas que la mayo- 
 rir de los legisladores no desean ver implantadas; pero 
 e\ijo que no se cina con laureles (jue de justicia perte- 
 necen d mis compatriotas, la frente de Sutter, Mar- 
 si lall y demas aventureros que a cada bienio se 
 ])resentan ante la legislatura del Estado reclamaiM* > 
 reconqtensas por servicios quo ban estado mi y lejos 
 de prestar, y por descubrimientos que habian sido 
 hechos mas de quince afios dntes que k)s titulados 
 descubridores del oro Viniesen d California." 
 
 My old friend Warner gives the most plausible ex- 
 planation as to the origin of the many ungrounded 
 
\v > 
 
 9 
 
 « THREE CENTURIES OF WILD TALK. 
 
 rumors concerning the early discovery of gold ' .ili- 
 fornia. Several persons, he says, coming iv this 
 country, brought with them bullion or dust, to be 
 used as money, which passing into commerce, was 
 handled by different persons and ship[)ed at various 
 times to various places. Thus Palacios, arriving in 
 18IU as agent for a Guaymas merchant who had pre- 
 viously shipped goods to California, and had purchased 
 land and cattle, brought a considerable quantity of 
 grain gold and silver bars, obtained in Sonora, where- 
 with to facilitate his operations. About the same time 
 J. P. Leese arrived from New Mexico, having in his 
 possession placer gold to the value of several thousand 
 dollars A large proportion of this treasure fell into 
 the hands of the agents of Boston merchants, and 
 was shipped to Boston, California thus acquiring 
 the reputation in certain circles of a gold-producing 
 country. Thus Mr Dana, referring to the cargo of 
 the Alert, states, in his Tiro Years Before the MaM, that 
 among other things was a quantity of cold-dust 
 brought from the interior by Indians or vicans. 
 And he learned further from the owners \ .j was 
 not uncommon for homeward-bound vessels to have 
 on board a small quantity of gold. Rumors of gold 
 discoveries were then current, he adds, but they at- 
 tracted little attention. 
 
 In Mexico, by a law of March 24, 1835, was created 
 the Estahlecimlento de Mineria, which body was to 
 superintend the mines of California, in case there were 
 any, as well as those of northern Mexico. 
 
 Notwithstanding all these affirmations, oaths, and 
 prophecies, Alexander Forbes, in 18.35, writes : 
 "There are said to be many mines of gold and silver 
 in the peninsula, but none arc now worked, unless, in- 
 deed, we may except those of San Antonio, near La 
 Paz, which still afford a trifling supply." And again: 
 — " No minerals of particular importance have yet 
 been found in Upper California, nor any ores of 
 metals." And speaking of the coming of Hijar's 
 
UNRKLIABLE TESTIMOXY. 
 
 43 
 
 [1 ' ali- 
 ; u tills 
 ,st, to bo 
 orce, was 
 t various 
 [•riving ill 
 ) had pre- 
 purchased 
 lantity of 
 'a, where- 
 same time 
 ing in his 
 
 thousand 
 •e fell into 
 lants, and 
 
 acquiring 
 producing 
 3 cargo of 
 Maftt, that 
 
 rMd-dust 
 vicans. 
 .J was 
 8 to have 
 rs of gold 
 
 b they at- 
 
 as created 
 y was to 
 here were 
 
 aths, and 
 writes : 
 ,nd silver 
 mless, hi- 
 near La 
 nd again: 
 have yet 
 ores of 
 Hijar's 
 
 party, he says, "Tliere were goldsmith's proceeding 
 to aVountry where no gold existed." 
 
 While (HI a visit soutli in 1 874, I met at San Luis 
 OhisiM), Mr Henry B. Blake, author of a historical 
 ski'tch of southern California, who stated that the 
 first gold shipited from Califoriiia was in IH86, and 
 canu> from the source of the Santa Clara river. 
 
 With regard to gold in Lower California, the Pf?*?^2/ 
 Ci/rlopirdhi of 1830 says : — " The mineral riches arc very 
 inconsi<leral)le. Only one mine is worked about ten 
 or twelve miles nortliwest of La Paz, where gold is ex- 
 tracted, but the metal is not abundant." The San 
 Antonio mine is the one referred to. " It is sujiposed 
 that the western declivity of tlie mountains contains 
 a considerable (juantity of minerals, but if this be the 
 case they will probably never V)e worked, as this part 
 of the peninsula is (juite uninhabitable." And the 
 country to the northward is not V' ry different in the 
 (•pillion of this writer, who ccmtinues: "In minerals 
 ITpper California is not rich. A small silver mine 
 was found east of S. Ines, but it has b( en abandoned. 
 In one of the rivers falling into the southern Tule 
 Lake, some gold has been found, but as }et in very 
 small quantity." 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 FURTHER RUMORS OP THE EXISTENCE OF GOLD IN CALI- 
 FORNIA PRIOR TO THE DISCOVERY BY MARSHALL. 
 
 Is yellow dirt the passion of thy life ? 
 Look but on Gripus or on Gripus' wife. 
 
 — Pope. 
 
 Nearer the mytlilc than any we have yet encoun- 
 tered, in point of elaboration at least, is the story told 
 in 1865 bj the Paris correspondent of the London 
 Star. The writer claims to have discovered, in a pri- 
 vate collection hi Paris, belonging to an antiquarian 
 named M. le Carpentier, the first gold found in Cali- 
 fornia. It was in this wise: During the revolution 
 of 18.S0. and for years afterward, M. le Carpentier 
 had felt somewhat nervous iest his collection should 
 be seized by a mob or by burglars, for it wr.,s now 
 very valuable. While in this frame of mind he was 
 startled, late one night in 1837, by a loud knocking at 
 the street door. After some delay he opened it with 
 great precaution, and there stood a middle-aged n)an, 
 emaciated, apparently in wretched health, and in tat- 
 tered garments. 
 
 "You do not know me," began the individual, 
 speaking somewhat wildly, " but I know you, and 
 tliat is enough. I want you to assist me in applying 
 to government for a vessel and a hundred men, and I 
 will bring back a ship-load of gold." The antiquary's 
 face showed what he thought of the proposal. 
 
 " Oh, I am not mad," the invalid continued. " See 
 hercl You are wise. You know the value of this" — 
 producing from his pocket a large piece of quartz, 
 
 M. le Carpentier was 
 
 richly impregnated with gold. 
 
S3ME STRANGE STORIES. 
 
 45 
 
 a kindhearted man but not avaricious, and he still 
 tlif)ught his visitor a little insane. Leading him with- 
 in, he set food before him, and then giving him for 
 a ]Mcce of the quartz a napoleon, and telling him to 
 call again whenever he pleased, dismissed him. 
 The man never reappeared, but the rock, when anal- 
 yzed, was found to be rich in gold. Fifteen years 
 elapsed, and the incident was well-ni^h forgotten, 
 when one day a small, heavy parcel, enclosed in a torn 
 and greasy handkerchief, was handed with a letter to 
 the antiquarian, by the keeper of a lodging house 
 i:i a neighboring street, who said that they were left 
 tliore by a man who had died, and that they liad been 
 a long time mislaid. What was the antiquary's as- 
 tonishment, on opening the letter, to find it from the 
 poor invalid, and dated but a few days after his visit, 
 while the heavy package was the block of quartz. 
 
 " I am d}'ing," he wrote. " Ycu alone listened to 
 me. You alone stretched out a helping hand. I be- 
 queath you my secret. The country whence I brought 
 this gold is called California I " 
 
 It is stated that a Scotchman, Young Anderson by 
 name, attempted, in 1837, io enlist English capital in 
 mining ventures, through representations made to him 
 by a Guatemalan priest who had lived in California, 
 that gold existed in the neighborhood of San Francisco. 
 The Scotchman was unsuccessful. 
 
 In 1 8 5 1 , some three years after Marshall's discovery, 
 it was related in the Worcester Transcript that one \V. 
 F. Thompson, an experienced trapper, remembered 
 having found gold while on the north Yuba, some 
 twelve years before, a pound of which he carried with 
 him to Fort Leavenworth. There he left it, no one 
 seeming to know or to care what it was. When tidings 
 of the g()ld excitement were noised abroad, he was 
 engaged in trapping in the far north, and recognizing 
 his mistake, at once hurried back to the spot, only to 
 find every inch of the ground uprooted. 
 
 There was quite a mania for mining in .A.lta Cali- 
 
46 
 
 FURTHER RUMORS OF GOLD. 
 
 fornia about the year 1840. Silver was then the 
 attraction, rather than gold. Men, women, and 
 children talked about their ores very much as in later 
 years stocks were discussed. Copper was about that 
 time discovered at Soledad pass, some ninety miles 
 nortli of Los Angeles. 
 
 The Quarterly Review of 1850 states that the English 
 botanist, Douglas, was blamed for not having discov- 
 ered gold on this coast after having travelled over so 
 much of it, and that, too, when "the roots of some of 
 the pines sent home to England were found to have 
 small flakes of gold held together in the clotted earth 
 still attached to them 1 '' 
 
 Juan B. Alvarado says that the rings which he 
 used at his wedding, in August 1839, were of California 
 gold, and tliat his eldest daughter has still in her pos- 
 session a golden ring fashioned in 1840 at Monterey 
 from metal procured at San Fernando. 
 
 In his manuscript dictation, CaVifomia 1841-8, John 
 Bidwell remarks: "Among our party of 1841, the 
 general opinion was that there was gold in the Rocky 
 Mountains. Some trapper in the Black Hills had 
 picked up a stone, and carried it with him for a whet- 
 stone, and in the pocket in which he carried the stone 
 he found a piece of gold. My comrade, James John, 
 before mentioned, actually proposed to me, while we 
 were crossing the plains, to remain behind tlie com- 
 pany in the Rocky Mountains to hunt for gold and 
 silver. It was almost a daily occurrence to see men 
 picking up shining particles, and believing them to be 
 something precious." 
 
 When James D. Dana, of the United States' ex- 
 ploring expedition entered California from Oregon, in 
 1841, — it is remarkable how many authors copy each 
 other's errors, and write this date 1842, — he noticed 
 that "the talcose and allied rocks of tlie Umpqua and 
 Shasty districts resemble in many parts the gold- 
 bearing rocks of other regions, but the gold, if any 
 there be, remains to bo discovered." And on liis re- 
 
THE SAN FERNANDO MINES. 
 
 47 
 
 turn, when he published his book on geology, he made 
 mention of gold-bearing rocks and quartz vehis both 
 in Oregon and California. Hence the report became 
 current, after the discovery of gold, that Dana had 
 told of its existence in California seven years before, 
 which was not the case, as he himself distinctly states. 
 " It is very doubtful," justly observes Tuthill, in his 
 Uktoni of California, "whether it occurred to Profes- 
 sor Dana that there was gold to be found here in 
 quantities that would ever get into more practical use 
 than to lie as rare specimens behind plate doors in 
 tlie mineralogical cabinets of the colleges." Murchi- 
 son made similar remarks on the auriferous rocks of 
 Australia, and so have twenty other persons spoken 
 of twenty other places, which, however, is far from 
 the actual discovery of gold. It is, moreover, a little 
 singular that so shrewd a man, and so experienced a 
 scientist as Dana, should not have seen the gold 
 which with the sand and gravel he displaced during 
 his journey along Feather river. 
 
 James Anthony jTroude claims that by reason of 
 his geological knowledge Sir Roderick Murchison was 
 enabled to foretell the discovery of Australian gold. 
 It is true that Murchison said that tliis metal might 
 be found in Australia; a safe affirmation for one hiving 
 no claim to geological divination, and considering the 
 sizj and character of the country. 
 
 At last we have a vcritabl(> gold discovery, and 
 gold mines worked in Alta California, with greater or 
 less success, for a period of six years prior to the dis- 
 covery of Marshall. They were situated in the San 
 Fernando vail jy, on the rancho of Ignacio del Valle, 
 fourteen leagues from Los Angeles, and eight from the 
 San Fernando mission, toward the Sierra Nevada. 
 Tlie discovery, which occurred in March 1842, was in 
 this wise : Two vaqueros were searching for stray cat- 
 tle in the valley, and when tired, threw themselves 
 uj on the ground to rest. One of them casually tak- 
 ing some earth in his hand, noticed shining particles, 
 
-.*s 
 
 In' 
 
 w 
 
 hi 
 I 
 
 48 
 
 FUKTEER RUMORS OF GOLD. 
 
 which he fancied were copper. He showed them to 
 his companion, who said they looked hke gold, and 
 then scraped up some earth, and rubbing it between 
 his hands, found more of the metal. Both decided to 
 take the dust to Los Angeles, and ask the opinion of 
 some of their friends who had worked in the mines of 
 New Mexico. It was not until some days later that 
 they arrived there, and showed it to certain Sonorans 
 who were then at the settlement. They declared that 
 it was placer gold, and asked Francisco Lopez — for 
 that was the name of the man who fi^und it — to take 
 them at once to the locality. Soon afterward they 
 set farth, with a number of their friends, for the San 
 Fernando valley, guided by the two vaqueros. 
 
 Another version of the discovery is, that in the 
 early part of 1840 Don Andres Castillero, a Mexican 
 mineralogist, picking up a pebble, called tepustete by 
 Mexican placer miners, in the vicinity of the Las 
 Virgenes rancho, remarked that wherever tliese stones 
 were found gold must exist. Francisco Lopez, the 
 discoverer, overheard the observation and remembere I 
 it, when, some months later, while plucking wild 
 onions, a similar pebble was found in tlie soil around 
 the roots. He set to work examining the earth, and 
 found a grain of gold. Juan Manuel Vaca, owner of 
 the rancho on which was built the town of Vacaville, 
 was the first to carry the news to Governor Alvarado at 
 Monterey, presenting him with an ounce of gold con- 
 tained in quills, from which was made a pair of ear- 
 rings for his wife and a ring for his eldest daughter. 
 
 In 1842, these mines were worked for a distance of 
 ten leagues, and in 1844 for thirty leagues. The gold 
 was of the best quality, and many representations 
 wore made to the supreme government urging the 
 necessity of thorough surveys, and of develophig the 
 mineral resources of California. In the Coleccion de 
 documentos relativos al departamento de Califomias, 
 Manuel M. Caj-.tafiares writes, " this branch ought to 
 be considered less worthy of attracting attention than 
 
MISLEADING STATEMENTS. 
 
 49 
 
 agriculture. It is nevertheless, of great importance, 
 and I have the satisfaction of assuring you tliat it 
 forms ii California one of the most valuable resources 
 which that department contains." 
 
 The bod whence the gold was obtained was of 
 gravel, and the cuts into tlie banks, even as late as 
 1845, did not exceed thirty feet. Some of the more 
 experienced miners, were able by merely looking at 
 tlie ground, to tell whether or not it contained gold, 
 and would scrape the surface with a scoop or spoon 
 made of bullock's horn. The earth was then thrown 
 into a basket, which was emptied on a platform made 
 of stakes about three feet high, driven close together 
 into the ground, with poles placed lengthwise and 
 filled in with grass, the whole being covered with a 
 cotton sheet. Then water from a distance of six 
 feet was thrown over the nmd, and in an hour or 
 two the diit would be washed away while the gold 
 remained. 
 
 As soon as this gold discovery was more generally 
 known, many people tic?ked to the mines, and in May 
 1844, Ignacio del Valle wag appointed juez de policia, 
 and Zorrilla, his substitute, to keep order, as well as 
 to levy dues upon the sale of liquors, to portion out 
 the land, and to impose taxes if necessary. It was 
 his business likewise to collect fees for wood, pasture, 
 and mineral privileges. About this time there were 
 one hundred persons at work in the mines; but the 
 numbers decreased as the rumiing water failed, which 
 they continued to do until the miners were unable 
 to obtain enough to drink. They were a steady 
 and hardworking people, but with all their labor were 
 unable to earn more than from one to two dollars a 
 day. So scanty indeed were their earnings that no 
 taxes or dues were levied for that year, 
 
 Abel Stearns hi November 1842 sent to the Phila- 
 delphia mint for assay, as specimens of this placer 
 gold, eighteen and three quarter ounces mint weight, 
 and twenty ounces by California weight, which in 
 
 CajlInt. I'uc. 
 
80 
 
 FURTHER RUMORS OF GOLD, 
 
 iii 
 
 H If 'If 
 
 1 rfl' 
 
 Hi Mn 
 
 August following was returned with the accompany- 
 ing certificate. "Before melting 18 34-100 oz. ; after 
 melting 18 1-100 oz.; fineness, 926-1,000; value 
 $344.75; deduct expenses, sending to Philadelphia, 
 and agency there, $4.02; net $340.73." 
 
 By December 1843, two thousand ounces of gold 
 had been taken from the San Fernando mines, the 
 greater portion of which was shipped to the United 
 States; and from that time little is heard of the place 
 till in 1845 Bidwell visited it, and found o.ily thirty 
 men at work whose gains did not exceed twenty-five 
 cents a day. 
 
 E. E, Pickett states that in 1842 he met men in 
 the Rockv Mountahis who had been in California and 
 who said that gold was there. " They were not the 
 first to give such information since I had read the same 
 when a boy." It is such statements as this that have 
 so often deceived the public. Mr Pickett never read 
 of gold in Alta California when a boy. " The first 
 hide drogers and other traders who visited this coast, 
 even as long ago as the last century, obtained small 
 quantities of gold-dust washed from the earth in the 
 southern part of the state." This assertion is likewise 
 misleading if not absolutely untrue. I have elsewhere 
 explained how small quantities of gold found their 
 way to the coast. 
 
 In the Emigrant's Guide to Oregon and California, by 
 L. W. Hastings, printed at Cincinnati in 1845, ap- 
 pears the following : — "The information which I was 
 able to acquire does not afibrd me sufficient data 
 upon which to predicate any very accurate conclusions 
 in reference to the mineral resources of California; 
 but sufficient investigations have been made to deter- 
 mine that many portions of the mountainous regions 
 abound with several kinds of minerals, such as gold, 
 silver, iron, lead, and coal, but to what extent, the 
 extreme newness and unexplored state of the country, 
 utterly preclude all accurate determination. It is, 
 however, reported in the city of Mexico, that some 
 
SANDELS, AKD THE KING'S ORPHAN. 
 
 SI 
 
 Mexicans have recently discovered a section of coun- 
 try. in the extreme interior of California, which af- 
 fords ample evidences of the existence of both gold 
 and silver ore, in greater or less quantities, for thirty 
 leagues in extent. Since this report is so very extra- 
 ordinary, and since it originated as above stated, the 
 safest course would be to believe but about half of it, 
 and then, perhaps, we should believe too much. 
 Doctor Sandcls, a very able mineralogist, who had for 
 some time been employed in his profession by the 
 government of Mexico, spent four or five months in 
 mineralogical investigation in Upper California. It was 
 from this gentleman that the above information was de- 
 rived, hence it is entitled to imi)licit reliance." Sutter 
 took a great interest in this scientist, and in his labors. 
 Sandels was a Swede educated in London, as Bidwell 
 says, though Thorpe affirms that he obtained his edu- 
 cation in a government institution in his own country, 
 and that he called himself one of the king's orphans; 
 that is, in return for an education at the expense of 
 tlie government he was to make investigations in 
 foreign parts for the benefit of the institution, such 
 being one of its regulations. Others say that he had 
 lived in Mexico and was sent by the duke of Bedford 
 to explore California. 
 
 Bidwell thinks that he had been in Brazil, and was 
 for some time associated with M. Bonpland. He is 
 said to have been robbed in Mexico, of the proceeds 
 of property sold in Brazil to the amount of $189,000, 
 though how the king's orphan obtained such a sum 
 no one attempts to explain. Sandcls spent several 
 days at New Helvetia enjoying the hospitality of its 
 proprietor, who took great delight in his society. 
 Seeing him so much interested in minerals, and so 
 unwearied in his researches thereabout, Sutter said to 
 him one day, " Doctor, can you not find me a gold 
 mine ? " Placing his hand upon the shoulder of his 
 host, the doctor replied, " Captain Sutter, your best 
 mine is in the soil. Leave to governments to provide 
 
52 
 
 FURTHER RUMORS OP GOLD. 
 
 the currency." This was in 1843. Bidwell further 
 states that Sandels explored as far north as Chico 
 creek. Mr Dickey was with him. They did not 
 examine any mountains except the Buttes. On his 
 return to the fort Sandels reported " indications of 
 gold, but that unless the mountains on the sides were 
 richer than those in the valleys, the mines would not 
 pay to work." 
 
 A man came from the southern part of California 
 to Sutter Fort in the autumn of this same year, 1843, 
 calling himself Juan Baptiste Ruelle. In an old quill, 
 which looked as if it had been brought from New 
 Mexico, were a few particles of gold, which he said he 
 had found on the American river. This excited the 
 suspicions of Bidwell, who was present, and these 
 suspicions were increased when the man asked for two 
 pack-horses laden with provisions, and an Indian boy 
 to attend him. He wished to go in search of gold, 
 he said, and he would be absent several days. There 
 was a company of Canadian trappers in the vichiity 
 about to start for Oregon. It was not known that 
 Ruelle belonged to them, but it was feared that with 
 so valuable an outfit he might forget to return. 
 Hence his request was denied. 
 
 E, Stevens, a practical gold-miner from Georgia, 
 and the leader of Townsend's party in 1844, came to 
 California with the avowed purpose of discoverin;;' 
 gold. While crossing the Rocky Mountains, or 
 shortly afterward, he thought that he recognized in- 
 dications, and one night, when encamped at some 
 point in Utah, washed out a small quantity of dirt 
 and found the color. Nevertheless, this mining ex- 
 pert and professed gold seeker crossed the Sierra, re- 
 turned to its summit in the spring for the wagons of 
 his party, and thence to camp, thus, without being 
 aware of it, travelling several times over the very 
 ground of which he was in seaich. In the Souther)! 
 Quarterly, in 1845, some one made hap-hazard the fol- 
 
LARKIN'S STATEMENT. 
 
 88 
 
 lowing statement, referring to California: "In tlie 
 lieart'of the country rich veins of gold ore exist." 
 
 Both silver and gold were reported noi-th of San 
 
 Francisco bay in 1845 : ''Mines of gold, silver, cop- 
 
 ;per, lead, sulphur, and quicksilver," writes an cmi- 
 
 1 grant in 1846, "are being found in all directions." 
 
 f And then he mentions as in operation two quicksilver 
 
 niines, yielding thirty per cent of pure ore, one on the 
 
 Inorth and the other on the south side of San Fran- 
 
 jisco bay. " No less than seventy denouncements of 
 
 nines have been made to the alcalde of San Josd 
 
 'itliin the last five months. . .The evidences now arc 
 
 that there is a vast field for mining operations about 
 
 to open here." 
 
 Koporting to Commahder Montgomery May 2, 
 [l84n, in answer to a request for information respect- 
 ing mines in California, Thomas O. Larkin, United 
 [States consul at Monterey, makes the following state- 
 bnent: "At San Fernando, near San Pedr6, by 
 I was] ling the sand in a plate, any person can obtain 
 [from one to five dollars per day of gold that brings 
 [seventeen dollars per ounce in Boston. The gold has 
 [been gathered for two or three years, though but few 
 have the patience to look for it. There is no doubt 
 {in my mind but that gold, silver, copper, quicksilver, 
 lead, sulphur, and coal mines are to be found all over 
 Califi^rnia. But I am very certain that they will 
 [under their present owners continue as they are. 
 iTlie Indians have ahvavs said there were mines, btt 
 w'ould not show their location, and the Californiant: 
 [do not choose to look for them." Elsewhere in his 
 report he mentions the copper mines of Juan Bandini, 
 ninety miles south of San Diego ; coal on the rancho 
 (>f Rafael Gonzalez, seventy miles south of Monterey, 
 and at San Pablo; sulphur beds twenty-five miles 
 [north of Monterey, and also near Sonoma; silver 
 [mines about sixty miles north of Monterey; asphal- 
 [tum in various places; quicksilver near San Josd and 
 [Sonoma; silver and lead twenty miles from Monteiey; 
 
f 'I 
 
 ill 
 
 S4 
 
 FURTHER RUMORS OF GOLD. 
 
 lead on the rancho of Captain Richardson ; black lead 
 at various points, and slate on the Sacramento river. 
 
 On the 4th of May, 1846, Larkin writes from Mon- 
 terey to the secretary of state at Washington: "By 
 the laws and customs of Mexico respecting mining, 
 every person or company, foreign or native, can pro- 
 sent themselves to the nearest authorities and denounce 
 any unworked mine. The authorities will then, after 
 the proper formalities, put the denouncer in possession 
 of a certain part of it, or all ; which is, I believe ac- 
 cording to its extent. The possessor must hereafter 
 occupy and work his mine, or some other person may 
 denounce against him. In all cases the government 
 claims a certahi portion of the product. Up to the 
 present time there are few or no persons in California 
 witli sufficient energy and capital to carry on minint;, 
 although a Mexican officer of the army, a padre, and 
 a native of New York are, on a very small scale, ex- 
 tracting quicksilver from the San Jose mine." 
 
 Besides the statements having some pretentions to 
 truth were many absurd stories ; such as that gold 
 was discovered by the Mormons in fulfilment of a 
 prophecy of Joseph Smith ; and again, that a Pawnee 
 chief, to whom Sutter had given a rifle, and who dit d 
 some three months later, appeared to Sutter in the 
 spirit and told him where to find gold, begging hiui 
 meanwhile to buy with it a rifle for every member of 
 his tribe. In 1864 John Bidwell was told by Brig- 
 ham Young that some of his men claimed to have 
 found gold prior to the discovery of Marshall, but 
 that it was doubtless a mistake. 
 
 After a brief visit to California L. W. Sloat, in 
 December, 1846, read a paper before the Lyceum of | 
 Natural History in New York, in which he said: "I 
 am confident that when it (California) becomes settled, 
 as it soon will be by Americans, the mineral develop- 
 ments will greatly exceed in richness and variety the 
 most sanguine expectations " — which after all was no j 
 very remarkable prophecy. 
 
BANDINI, PICKETT, EVANS. 
 
 n ; black lead 
 iimento rivtr. 
 ,es from Mou- 
 ngton: "By 
 ?ting mining, 
 tive, can pic- 
 and denounce 
 ill then, afttr 
 rin possession 
 I believe ac- 
 lust hereafttr 
 jr person may 
 e government 
 b. Up to the 
 i in California 
 ry on minin^^ 
 a padre, and 
 lall scale, ex- 
 nine." 
 
 pretentions to 
 
 as that gold 
 
 ilfilment of a 
 
 ihat a Pawnoo 
 
 and who diid 
 
 Sutter in tlic 
 
 bejxijing hiin 
 
 ry member »it 
 
 ;old by Brig- 
 
 imed to ha\ o 
 
 Marshall, ))ut 
 
 W. Sloat, ill 
 le Lyceum of 
 
 he said: "I 
 comes settled, ^ 
 leral develop- 
 id variety the ^ 
 er all was nof 
 
 1 
 
 Juan Bandini imagined, in 1846, that the hills 
 around San Diego were impregnated with metal ; in- 
 deed a metal of some unknown description had already 
 been discovered. Writing in his Historia de la Alia 
 Culiforuia he says: "Empero, de lo que yo creo que 
 son abundantes estas pequenas sierras es de metales, 
 pues todas las piedras de la superficie aai lo indican, y 
 aini se lia sacado para fundicion un metal cuya calidad 
 no se lia conocido, atribuyendo esto d la escasez de 
 honibres de conocimicntos mineralogicos." 
 
 "During 1847," Picket says, " and particularly in 
 the fall of tliat year, there was quite an excitement in 
 San Francisco and San Jose on the subject of mineral 
 discoveries. But this was mostly in reference to 
 quicksilver and silver mines, which were reported to 
 bo rich and numerous in the hills and mountains 
 bounding botli sides of the valley of San Jose. To- 
 ward winter this excitement subsided, all the silver 
 mines having proved to be humbugs." 
 
 One George M. Evans, of Oregon, aspires to the 
 distinction of having been among tlie first to find gold 
 in California; or at least lie attempts to throw Mar- 
 sliall into the background. If wliat he claims for 
 himself has no better basis of truth than what he 
 claims for others, he may take the palm for unblush- 
 ing impudence and mendacity. Meanwhile let him 
 be satisfied with the notoriety to which he has already 
 attained ; for its odor will not be improved by further 
 agitation. So far as I am able to ascertain, it was he 
 who started the story of Cabello, before mentioned, 
 and most bungling work he made of it. Will Mr 
 Evans tidl us to what lingo belong the words jtliurros, 
 and- Jxrconladd en Historia cl California Alfa, antl lunv 
 ho obtained information that the mission of San Jose 
 was built on the bay of San Francisco in lG72,a hun- 
 dred years before ever a Franciscan was on the giound ? 
 
 I do notsay thatall which heaffirmsis false, for I have 
 no mea.is of knowing. I only say that the statements 
 which I know to be Calse cause me to distrust all his 
 
^if i 
 
 86 
 
 FURTHER RUMORS OP GOLD. 
 
 assertions. A Mexican named Salvador, he says, was 
 sliot at Yerba Buena in the autumn of 1845. On Lis 
 
 })orson was gold-dust to the value of a thousand dol- 
 ars or more. He at first refused to tell where he 
 obtained it ; but in his dying hour relented, and ix)int- 
 ing "in the direction of the San Jose mountains," 
 cried, "lejosl lejosl" Where the San Jose mountains 
 are situated, or what mines were ever found beyond 
 them, !Mr Evans does not relate. While with a party 
 of Mormons, who, in the autumn of 1846, ascended 
 the San Joaquin river, on " the sand point of the small 
 island opposite to what is called the entrance to Stock- 
 ton, then called Lindsey's lake," he picked up some 
 yellow specks from the bank, and remembcrhig '."liat 
 the Mexican, Salvador, had said, wrapped them in 
 paper, took them to Yerba Buena, and testing them 
 with acids found them to be gold. 
 
 If this be true, why did not Mr Evans gather gold, 
 or publish his discovery ? Because, as he claims, of 
 " not having any idea of the gold being in such quan- 
 tity as was afterward proved." But if it was not 
 there in quantity sul'icient even to be worthy of men 
 tion, where did Salvador obtain his bag of it? A'^a' , 
 in Auijfust, 1847, in company with Reading and Per- 
 kins, Evans writes, " we explored the mountains near 
 San Diego, and near the river Gila, where we found 
 gold more abundant than has since been found on the 
 north fork of the American." If this was true it is 
 singular that some one did not go there and gather 
 it. 
 
 Once more, on being informed by Henderson Cox 
 that he and others were about to explore a route 
 across the mountains for the approaching Mormon 
 exodus, he told him of Salvador, and drew for him a 
 chart of the country. Cox went his way, came upon 
 Mormon island and the gold there, and invited Evans 
 to join Inm. The latter reached that point on the 
 19th of January, 1848, and by the 8th of February 
 had nineteen thousand dollars. On the next day 
 
 % 
 
 3 
 
EXTRAVAGANT INVENTIONS. 
 
 m 
 
 while lie ami others " were in the lower end of the 
 nr.ll-riu'o, Marshall the overseer and his little girl 
 {•line in, and the child picked u^) a pretty stc^nc, as 
 she called it, and showed it to her father who pro- 
 n )ancod it •4«)ld, He was so excited about it that he 
 sai Idled his horse and that day rode to Sutter's fort 
 to tell Captain Sutter, hut he clid not believe it worth 
 n )tico, and for a while the idea died away. The 
 Mormons wishintjj to keep their discoveries a secret 
 from people not Mormons worked out the gold and 
 said nothmjj; more . . . Marshall died either four days 
 before he arrived home in the eastern states with a 
 barrel of gold, or four days from the coast." Amongst 
 the falsehoods so thickly scattered here, it is difficult 
 to detect a i)article of truth. Marshall never went 
 ea^t never had a barrel of gold; was not dead; the 
 Mormoir, never worked out the gold ; never wished 
 to keep their discovery secret from all who were not 
 Mormons, nor did they first discover gold; Evans 
 was not present when the first gold was found at the 
 saw-mill ; the idea with Sutter never died away ; Cox 
 and Beardsley were not the first to find Mormon 
 Island ; Sutter did believe ^Marshall's statement backed 
 by tne evidence worth his notice ; IMarshall's child did 
 not pick up the gold ; Marshall had no child present ; 
 and so on back to the beginnins.^. I must apologize 
 for occupying so much space i?\ criticising a work so 
 unworthy of notice as that of George M. Evans; 
 but if this for myself be necessary, I should apolo- 
 gize in a ten-fold degree for the many journalists, 
 here and in the east, who published his Munchau- 
 senisms as facts, and thus imposed on a credulous 
 public. One of his statements Evans concludes 
 with the oflensivo intimation that he would not ob- 
 ject to a gift from the government in return for the 
 inestimable benefit conferred by him on mankind. 
 Several attempts have been made to rob Marshall of 
 the honor of tlie discovery ; but so far from the exist- 
 ence of extensive gold deposits being known prior to 
 
58 
 
 FURTHER RUMORS OP GOLD. 
 
 the building of the saw-mill, it was with difficulty 
 men could be made to believe the fact even after it 
 was ascertained beyond a doubt. 
 
 I will inflict upon the reader but one more of these 
 pure inventions whose sole merit is their extravagance. 
 A stranger giving his name as Bennett entered 
 Brown's hotel, San Francisco, in the summer of 1847. 
 After inviting the landlord to drink, he asked him 
 whether he knew of any one having a thousand dol- 
 lars to invest in something which would yield enor- 
 mous returns, and being thereupon introduced to one 
 George McDougall, said that he wanted a thousand 
 dt)]lars to invest in blankets for traffic with the In- 
 dians, offering as security two imall bags contaii ing 
 what he declared to be gold. The men of San Fran- 
 cisco looked at the backwoodsman as if they thought 
 him demented. Meanwhile McDougall's wrath was 
 rising, and finally he broke out. " Do you think 
 I am a fool ! " Bennett walked off, muttering 
 " Yes, I think you are ; and j'ou will find it out one 
 of these days." In the autumn of the following 
 year he aijain visited San Francisco and showed 
 Brown three hundred pounds of gold-dust, stathig 
 tliat after his interview with McDouijall he v/ent to 
 Monterey to obtain either the money or the l)lankct.s 
 from Thomas O. Larkiii, " but as soon as he laid eyes 
 on him he concluded not to ask." 
 
 In 1847 three noted characters of the day, Moun- 
 t;>iu Jim, Dutch Fred, and Three-fingered Ja(k 
 sported silver buttons in Monterey, the metal wliere- 
 for, they said, had been taken from the old Indian 
 claim on the south branch, or Carmelo creek. Some 
 soldiers traded government rations for the buttons, 
 and the army paymaster finally had them assayed at 
 Wasliinirton where they stood the test. It was com- 
 mon cn(mgh in 1847 and 1848 to see silver in the 
 hands of tlio nat' /es at the Carmelo ; but little was 
 thought o^ '^ ftC the time, for during the war many 
 mission flagons, censors, chalices, and candlesticks 
 

 rh difficulty 
 v^en after it 
 
 ore of these 
 
 travagance. 
 
 3tt entered 
 
 iier of 1847. 
 
 asked him 
 
 ousand dol- 
 
 yield enor- 
 
 uced to one 
 
 a thousand 
 
 dth the In- 
 
 i contaii ing 
 
 f San Fran- 
 
 ley thouglit 
 
 wrath was 
 
 > you think 
 
 muttering 
 
 it out one 
 
 e followhig 
 
 nd showed 
 
 ust, stathig 
 
 lie v/ent t(» 
 
 he l)lankcts 
 
 10 laid eyt s 
 
 'A 
 
 HrOHER AUTHORITY. 69 
 
 liad l»ccn melted down, the metal finding its way into 
 trade. 
 
 In liis message of 1848, President Polk stated that 
 at the tune of the acquisition of California, the exis- 
 toiice was known of precious metals to a considerable 
 extent — referring of course to the developments in 
 the soutliern part of the state. 
 
 " Although rumors of the existence of gold in Cal- 
 ifornia had occasionally been heard," said Dwinelle in 
 an address before the society of Pioneers in 1866, 
 "still they had never been verified or traced to any re- 
 liable source; and they were regarded as we now 
 regard the fal)ulous stories of the golden sands of Gold 
 Lake, or tliose of Silver Planches which are said to ex- 
 ist in the inaccessible deocrts of Arizona," 
 
 Tinkham, in hia History of Sfockton, says that Weber 
 was not surprised to hear of Marshall' > discovery, "as 
 he knew tliat gold existed in the mountains of San 
 Luis Obispo and Santa Biirbara, bo' ause he had re- 
 reived dust in small (|uantities frjni the Mexicans at 
 San .L)sd" — a reasonable deduction truljM 
 
 The ri ader has probably observed how many there 
 were wlio already knew of the existence of gold in 
 California as soon as Marshall discovered it. Sutter 
 never pretended to this, though he thought it strange 
 that the natives had not brought him gold, for he was 
 alwayj^ urgijig them to collect for him any curiosities 
 that could be gathered in the mountains; in answer 
 to which appeal were brouglit to liim plants, animals, 
 birds, fruits, pipeclay, red ochre, and legends of vari- 
 ous kinds, but never gold. 
 
 " I was in possession of a fact," writes the Rev. W. 
 Colton.alcade of Monterey, hi May 1841), "which leftno 
 doubt of the existence of gold in the Sta'iislaus, more 
 than a year prior to its discovery on the Anieri( an 
 Fork." Reverend and dear sir, no one doubts that 
 gold was there l)efore Marshall found it; it is tl c 
 knowl'dge of itsexist(>nc(> that was not as yet revealed. 
 **A wild Indian," Mr Colton continues, "had strag- 
 
# 
 
 FURTHER RUMORS OF GOLD. 
 
 i 
 
 glcd Into Monterey with a specimen which ho had 
 lianiniercd into a clasp for his bow. It fell into the 
 hands of my secretary, W. R. Garner, whocomnmni- 
 cated the secret to me. The Indian described the 
 locality in which it was found with so much accuracy 
 that Mr Garner, on his recent excursion to the mines, 
 readily identified the spot. It is now known as Car- 
 son's Diijifino-s. . .It was the full intention of Mr Gar- 
 ner to trail this Indian at the first opportunity, and 
 he was prevented from so doing only by the impera- 
 tive duties of the office." 
 
 Both Parsons and Barstow affirm that previous to 
 his discovery, Marshall had often expressed his belief 
 in the existence of gold in the mountains; and Mrs 
 Weinier goes so far as to assert that the discovery 
 was not accidental. It is indeed somewhat remarka- 
 ble that the secret remained so long unrevealed. The 
 ground had been traversed these many years by na- 
 tives, by servants of the fur-companies and free trap- 
 pers, by emigrants, by explorers, and by professional 
 scientists who observed nothing, notwithstanding that 
 the tell-tale blush was there upon the foothills plainly 
 visible to those who could read it. And yet it is no 
 matter for surprise. Do not even the most gifted 
 in this latter-day dispensation, with all the brilliant 
 11 'lit revealed bv science, walk as men blind or dream- 
 iiig, while on every side, wrapped in the invisible, or 
 latent in the earth and air and sky, arc secrets as 
 manifold, and as pregnant with meaning as any hith- 
 erto divulged, awaiting but the eternal maich of 
 mind ? 
 
 If Dana and Sandels, or any of those whohavebeen 
 heedlessly 'redited with the discovery, had really 
 found gold as did Marshall, and had published it to 
 the world as did the teamster, how different micrht 
 have been the destiny of the Pacific coast nations. 
 To England, or to France, either of which countries 
 would have paid thrice over the paltry fifteen 
 millions and the indemnity duo the United States, 
 
PECULIAK DESTINY. 
 
 61 
 
 [i he had 
 [ into tlic 
 coniDiuiii- 
 ribcd the 
 I accuracy 
 the mines, 
 n as Car- 
 f Mr Gar- 
 unitv, and 
 16 impera- 
 
 )revious to 
 1 his belief 
 ; and Mis 
 discovery 
 b reniarka- 
 aled. The 
 ears by na- 
 
 M 
 
 \ free trap- 
 Drofessional 
 mdinix th.at 
 ills plainly 
 et it is no 
 nost «i;ifted 
 le brilliant 
 or dreani- 
 Hvisible, or 
 secrets as 
 any hitli- 
 maich of 
 
 haveheen 
 had really 
 shed it to 
 rent might 
 st nations, 
 countries 
 Itry fifteen 
 led States, 
 
 
 1^ 
 
 '4. 
 
 California i^ight then have belonged; or even Mexico 
 herself might have awakened from her lethargy, and 
 gathered from this new-born El Dorado sufficient gold 
 wherewith to satisfy her creditors. In such a case 
 how different wt)uld have been the appearance, for 
 better or worse, of the hills and valleys of the golden 
 state. 
 
 Morever, without the gold of California to counter- 
 balance that which England found in Australia, where 
 would have been the commerce of the United States ? 
 Whfc/ would have been our credit during the war for 
 the union, when even with California gold, poured in- 
 to New York at the rate of three or four millions a 
 month, the federal promises to pay fell to one-third of 
 tJK'ir face ? The vital sustenance of that war was Cal- 
 ifornia gold and Nevada silver, without which foreign 
 t)ccupation in the Pacific States was possible, and for- 
 eign domhiation, with abolition of Monroe doctrines 
 and the like, extremely probable. 
 
 In conclusion, it is hardly necessary for me to state 
 that there is as yet no sufficient evidence of any knowl- 
 edge by white men of the existence of gold in the 
 Sierra foothills, prior to the discovery at the Coloma 
 saw mill on the '24th of January, 1848. Even were it 
 not so; if, for instance, as in the case of America and 
 the Northmen, the existence of the continent had been 
 once known, and the knowledge lost or forgotten, to 
 Colund)Us, none the less, would belong the honor of dis- 
 covery. So with Marshall. There n'ay have been 
 some who thought of gold, or talked of gold, or even 
 handled gold before January 1848; but, none the less, 
 to James Marshall belongs the honor of its discovery, 
 if indeed, it can be called an honor. The difference in 
 the merit of the two discoveries, not to mention their 
 relative importance, as to which, of course, there can 
 be no comparison, is that in the one case Columbus be- 
 lieved in a new world and sought i;., while Marshall 
 stumbled on his discovery by the merest accident. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AFFAIRS ABOUT THE COLOMA SAW-MILL DURING THE SPRING 
 
 OF 1848. 
 
 PhituH, I shan't go near that fellow, Jupiter. 
 
 Jufi'ittr. How, my good I'lutas, not wlieii 1 hid you ? 
 
 PUitm. No. He in.uilted nie, turned nie out of his house, and scattered 
 me in all directions, — nie, the old friend of the family, all hut pitched i;.o 
 out of doors, as if I burnt hid fingers. What! go 1)a('k to him, to he liirown 
 to hi.4 iiarasites, and toadies, and htirlot.s? No; 8en<l me to those wlio valno 
 the gift, who will make much of me, who honor me, and desire my company, 
 and let all these fools keep house still with Poverty who prefer her to me. 
 Let them get her to give them a spado and an old sheepskin, and go dig iVr 
 their two-pence a-day, after squandering tliousands in gifts to their friends. 
 
 Jupilvr, Timou will never hehave so to you again. 
 
 \\ i| 
 
 When at length civilization began to creep into the 
 canons of the Sierra foothills, and the cry of gold was 
 raised, how was answered tlie mill-race digger s sliout \ 
 Tamely enougls at first. Few heeded it, or imagined 
 that it amounted to any more than a thousand other 
 great or small discoveries made since Spaniards began 
 their explorations northward from Mexico. Gold was 
 thinly distributed over wide areas, with richer depos- 
 its at intervals, so that for one great discovery, tliere 
 were a hundred which were hardlv wArth attention. 
 
 When bags and bottles of it were displayed at Be- 
 nicia, at Sonoma, at San Franci.sco, and Monterey, 
 the sleepy towns began to rub their eyes, and awake 
 to the fact that here was gold, bright yelU)W haul 
 gold, and in such quantities as might wt 11 and quickly 
 claim tlicir consideration. The quiet of pastoral Cali- 
 fornia was disturbed; the pulses of the people quick- 
 ened as with one accord they directed their eyes 
 northward. Thence spread the news to Mexico, to 
 Oregon, to the islands of the sea, to the eastern slioie 
 of the continent, to South America, and to the conti- 
 
 f 
 
 hi 
 
MARSHALL, THE DISCOVERER. 
 
 63 
 
 THE SPRLVa 
 
 e, and scattered 
 but pitclied 11.0 
 m, to be tlirowii 
 tliose wbo Viibio 
 re inycDiiipany, 
 irefer ber to me. 
 I, and go dig lor 
 to tbeir friends, 
 
 '—LucUin. 
 
 3ep into the 
 
 of g'okl was 
 
 Tcr s sliout? 
 
 or imagined 
 
 sand other 
 
 liards began 
 
 Gold was 
 
 her depos- 
 
 very, tliere 
 
 attention. 
 
 yed at Be- 
 
 Monterey, 
 
 and awake 
 
 ellow haul 
 
 nd quiekly 
 
 itoral Cali- 
 
 iplo fjuick- 
 
 their eves 
 
 [Mexico, to 
 
 tern shoie 
 
 the oonti- 
 
 r\cv.U of the so-called old world. White people lieard 
 of it, and black people; coppery, red, and yellow peo- 
 |)1j.^ — came rushing in from every quarter, all eager 
 for some of the delectable dirt. 
 
 Much has been written regarding the Coloma gold 
 discovery. ^luch about it worth knowing remains 
 unwritten. The choicest unpublished information to 
 inv knowledge is that contained in the manuscript of 
 Henry W. Bighr, Dianj of a Mormon in Calif omiia, 
 who was on tlie ground at the time, with a remarkably 
 elear head and ready pen. The statement given mo 
 bv Mr Sutter at Litiz, and contained hi the manuscript 
 entitled Pcrsomd liemlniftccu •>• of General John Av(/ns- 
 tii.^ Suffer, is also exceedingly interesting and valuable. 
 I will herewith present verbatim several of the more 
 impor-tatit accounts of the discovery. 
 
 Marshall was a queer genius. I speak with exact- 
 ness, for he was both a genius and queer. I have in 
 my possession an old daguerreotype which is unlike 
 any other portrait that I have seen. Parson's Life of 
 Marshall is the best book upon the subject extant. 
 Naturally kind and humane, his mind dreamy while 
 his faculties were in repose, but of cragged disposition 
 and inclined to be a little fierce when roused, all along 
 his later life he was made morose by what ho deemed 
 injustice and neglect on the part of the people, and <»f 
 the government. "The enterprising energy of which 
 the orators and editors of California's early golden 
 days boasted so much as belonging to Yankecdom," 
 he writes bitterly in 1857, "was not national but in<li- 
 vidual. Of tlie profits derived from the enterprise It 
 stands thus, Yankeedom .$000,000,000; myself indi- 
 vicUially $000,000,000. Ask the records of the coun- 
 try for the reason why? They will answer, I need 
 not. Were 1 an Englishman, and had made niy dis- 
 covery on English soil, the case wouhl have been 
 dirtbrcnt." Mr Hittell visited him at Coloma in his 
 retirement, where he alone remained of all those early 
 discoverers. **No photograph of him has ever been 
 
m 
 
 AFFAIRS ABOUT THE COLOMA SAW-MILL. 
 
 1 .y 
 
 ! 
 
 Ill 
 
 III 
 
 obtained " he said. " I requested him to let me get a 
 negative, from wliich I would have pictures taken 
 and sold in San Francisco for his benefit, but he re- 
 fused indignantly. The thought of the injustice that 
 had been done him made him unhappy. He wanted 
 no allusion made to the debt due by California to him. 
 Others have been loaded with wealth and honor, and 
 he has been left to struggle along in poverty and ob- 
 scurity, he who discovered the gold that made Cali- 
 fornia what it is." Poor Marshall ! Too simple and 
 sensitive by half I Had he made the gold, and it had 
 been stolen from him by an ungrateful republic, he 
 would not have been in his own opinion more cruelly 
 wronged than by this neglect to reward him for — 
 what? Yet we can but feel kindly toward the man 
 who, though mistaken in what constitutes greatness, 
 and merit worthy of public reward, was nevertheless 
 well-meaning, honest, and industrious. His name will 
 forever be conspicuous in the annals of the country, 
 ho\7socver accidentally it became so. 
 
 Yet far more than in picking from the historic tail- 
 race the first particle of the divine dirt found there, 
 Marsliall had often played the hero. The world 
 knows its impudent men, its brassy, bellowing fellows; 
 but how few of its real noblemen I Many generous 
 deeds are recorded of Marshall while in the war; an<l 
 it was not an unmanly act, the saving his saw-mill, in 
 the way he did, from a freshet which threatened it 
 just before the discovery of gold. The dam was built 
 of brush with the butts laid down stream. The rains 
 coming on, the river rose, and fears were entertained 
 that the works would all be swept away. Side by side 
 with his men, Marshall worked day and night, and 
 received therefor the praise of his partner, and the 
 respect and admiration of his associates. Up to his 
 waist in water, in constant peril of his life, for many 
 hours he worked, and finally succeeded in anchoring 
 the mill in safety. 
 
 Marshall claimed to have been the cause of the dis- 
 
THE AUSTRALIAN fJOLD-FIXDEB 
 
 Vk 
 
 coverv of ookl in Australia as well as in California. 
 The story'^goes tliat an Englisliuian, named Har- 
 giaves, came one day to the Coloma mill for lumber. 
 He seemed specially in a bad humor, for he was curs- 
 ing California, and the people, and lauding to 'eaven 
 h "viTV tiling, Haustralian and Henglish. Marshall 
 let him go on for a while without saying a word. 
 Finally he broke out: 
 
 "Sec here, my friend I" if you don't like this coun- 
 try, why do you come here ? Nobody Invites you. 
 Nobody will cry if you take yourself off. Go home 
 and dig gold. I warrant you I could find the stuff in 
 Australia." The speaker, beginning sharply, had 
 gradually, almost unconsciously dropped Into a medi- 
 tative strain. 
 
 Tlie man took it .up in earnest. Marshall was a 
 great character thereabout; he had found gold in 
 California, and surely he must know if it was in Aus- 
 tralia. 
 
 "Do you really thhik so?" asked Hargraves. 
 
 "I am sure of it," said Marshall. 
 
 " If I thought so I would go." And he went. And 
 for the millions of pounds sterling turned by this 
 moans into the British treasury, he received from the 
 British government £5,000, and from the Australian 
 government £10,000, while ]\Iarshall from his un- 
 grateful country received nothing. 
 
 Everybody was busy and cheerful at the Coloma 
 mill on the afternoon of the 24th of January 1848, for 
 the heavy rains which had threatened to destroy the 
 dam during the first half of the month had ceased, 
 and tlie danger was past. There were several of the 
 I^attalion boys here at work in various ways. They 
 had come hither, last from the half-completed flour- 
 ing-mill at Brighton; and such had been their suffer- 
 ings during their terrible marrh from Council Bluff 
 and Santa Fe, as to make the double pine-log-and- 
 clapboarded cabin seem exceedingly comfortable, and 
 
 Cal. Ikt. Poc. 
 
UM.. 
 
 M 
 
 Ml AFFAIRS ABOFr THE COLOMA SAW-MILL. 
 
 the grizzly bears, and wolves, and wild Indians moro 
 companionable than civilized man with his detestable 
 prejudices and tyrannies. Present assistintjf on the 
 works were eight good Indians from New Helvetia, 
 and because they would not speak when spoken to, 
 the valley people did not like their brethren of tlu- 
 mountains, but called them mala gcittc, and wanted to 
 kill them. 
 
 Weimer and his aboriginal mechanics were indus- 
 triously employed in the lower part of the race, which 
 by this time was nearly deep enough at that end. 
 Up near the place where the mill-wheel was to be 
 Biujler was drlllincr into an obstinate boulder. Ben- 
 nett and Scott were working at the bench; Stephens 
 and Barger were hewing timber; Smith and John- 
 son were felling trees. Near the men's cabin, and 
 close by where Bigler was blasting, Brown was whijt- 
 sawim? with an Indian. This heathen was ijrcatlv 
 interested in affairs, and worked with a will ; for ho 
 had been toLl that this machine when finished would 
 saw out boards .)f its own volition; whereat he had 
 responded that it was a lie. It was as good as a play 
 to see this fellow when the mill was first started run- 
 ning. He was " completely beaten," Bigler says. 
 " He lay on his belly, where he could have a fair view 
 from the bank, but near the saw ; and he lay there 
 for two hours watching it. He was taken with it, 
 and said it was vano — Indian Spanish for bueno — 
 and wanted to be a sawyer right awfiv." 
 
 Brown and Blijjler were anmsing themselves, whilf 
 at their work, by quizzing the doul)ting aboriginal in 
 the saw-pit respecting supernatural agency in tlic 
 handling of saw-logs, when they were approached l>y 
 a young Indian who requested them to get him a tin 
 plate, at once, for Mr Marshall, who was at the lowi r 
 end of the race with Weimer. Brown jumped oti 
 from the log, and brought from the cabin the plate, 
 wonderins: meanwhile what Marshall could want with 
 the thing. When about to quit work for the night, 
 
 a-: 
 
 i 
 
Jj. 
 
 DISCOVERY OP GOLD. 
 
 dians moro 
 
 detestable 
 intT on tlu' 
 V Helvetia, 
 
 spoken to, 
 hrcn oi tlio 
 d wanted ti) 
 
 were indus- 
 racc, wliich 
 it that end. 
 1 was to be 
 ilder. Ben- 
 \\; Stephens 
 h and .Tohn- 
 s cabm, aiul 
 vu was whlp- 
 t was greatly 
 L will ; for ho 
 inishcd would 
 ereat he had 
 ;ood as a play 
 ■ started ruu- 
 Bigler says. 
 ,ve a fair view- 
 he lay there 
 iken with it, 
 for bueno— 
 
 Inselves, while 
 aboriginal in 
 ^3ncy in the 
 .pproached by 
 get him a tin 
 s at the loW( r 
 n jumped «'♦! 
 bin the plate, 
 uld want with 
 for the night, 
 
 
 I 
 
 Marshall came up and said, " Boys, I believe I have 
 found a gold mine." The remark produced no start- 
 ling elfect upon his hearers, and Marshall walked off 
 to his house on the mountain-side which he had lately 
 built for himself. Later Marshall visited the men's 
 eahin, and again remarked that he. was almost sure 
 h(! had found gold at the lower end of the race. Then 
 lu' said, "Brown, I want you and Bigler to shut 
 down the head-gate early in the morning. Throw in 
 a little saw -dust, rotten leaves, and dirt; make all 
 tight, and we will see what will come of it." 
 
 The men do as they had been told. And while 
 they are at breakfiist Marshall goes down to the mill- 
 race alone. After breakfast the men come out, and 
 each betakes himself to his work. Presently ^lar- 
 sliall appears, his old white hat within his arm, look- 
 ing wonderfully pleased. A smile overspreads his 
 fac(% and the boys know that it means something 
 unusual. Coming nearer, slowly, quietly, yet in 
 heavy depth of tone he sjjeaks : " Boys, by Gt»d, I've 
 got it;" and he places his .hat down on a bench in 
 the mill-yard. All gather round to see what it is ; 
 .^nd there, sure enough, on the top of the crown, 
 knocked in a little, lies the worshipful metal. There 
 is about half an ounce of it, in flakes and grains, from 
 the smallest particle to pieces as large as a kernel of 
 wheat or larger, and though not one of the }>arty has 
 ever before seen gold in its native state, there is no 
 longer a skeptic among them. Azariah Smith draws 
 from his p.»cket a five-dollar piece, i)art of his mili- 
 tary pay, and compares it with the dust. There 
 seems to be little dift'ercnce in color or weight; tlie 
 cohi is somewhat lighter in tint, which is accounted for 
 by reason v T its alloy. Not a very crucial test, but 
 all sufficient at this juncture. 
 
 Led by Marshall, all now hasten down tlie race, 
 and soon are absorbed in picking from the seams and 
 crevices the precious metal. They conclude that 
 the deposit is rich ; and from this time the fever 
 
68 
 
 AFFAIRS ABOUT HIE COLOMA SAWMILL. 
 
 I 
 
 :iil!!!'' 
 
 sets in. Furtlicr tests aro applied, for tromblinj; 
 doubts will arise, atui soiiu' is thrown into vincgni, 
 and sonic is boiled in Mrs Woiinor's soap kettle. En- 
 joinin«]f secrecy Marshall takes some of the gol 1 and 
 goes with it to the fort to have it further tested. 
 And when he returns thus he delivers himself: "Oh 
 boys 1 it's the pure stuff." Then he goes on to relate 
 his adventure: "I and the Old Cap*' for so he calls 
 Sutter, " went into a room and locked ourselves up. 
 And we were half a day trying it. And the regulars 
 tiiere wondered what the devil was up. They thougl t 
 perhaps I had found quicksilver, as the woman did 
 down toward Monterey. Well ! we compared it with 
 the Encyclopedia, and it agreed with it ; we ap[)lit(l 
 a^jua foilis but it would have nothing to do with it. 
 Then we weighed it in water; we took scales with 
 silver coin in one side balanced by the dust in the 
 other, and gently let them down into a basin of water: 
 and the gold went down and the silver up." And 
 he motions the manner of it with his hands. ** That 
 told the story what it was," he concludes. 
 
 Marshall reported further that Sutter would soon 
 be there, and examine into the matter for himself. 
 Sure enough, next day Marshall entered the men's 
 cabin and said, " Boys, the Old Cap has come ; he is 
 up at my house. Now I will tell you what we will 
 do. You know, he always carries his bottle. Let us 
 each throw in and give Henry some gold, and in tlu; 
 morning, when you shut down the head-gate, let him 
 take it down and sprinkle it over the base rock ; and 
 when the Old Gent comes down, and sees it lying there, 
 he will be so excited that he will out with his bottle 
 and treat all hands." It was agreed ; the salting was 
 done ; and while the men were at breakfast next morn- 
 ing they saw Sutter, with Marshall and Weimer on 
 either side of him, coming down to the mill. Suttt r 
 was dressed with care as bocame the owner of squaio 
 leagues, and the commander of a fortress, and lie 
 walked with a cane. The men stepped out into the 
 
SUTTER'S VISIT. 
 
 tromblin<j; 
 o viiK'gai. 
 >ttle. Eii- 
 j gol i and 
 lier testod. 
 iisclf: "Oil 
 m to relate 
 
 so he calls 
 irHelvca u^i. 
 ;lic regulai s 
 jey thougl t 
 woman did 
 ared it with 
 
 we applied 
 
 do with it. 
 
 scales with 
 dust \n the 
 sin of water ; 
 • up." And 
 hds. "That 
 
 would soon 
 for hiniseit'. 
 d the men's 
 come; he is 
 hat we will 
 ;tle. Let us 
 I, and in tlu; 
 rate, let him 
 [e rock; and 
 lying there, 
 Ih his bottle 
 salting was 
 It next morn- 
 Weinier on 
 iiill. Suttir 
 er of square 
 •ess, and h*' 
 »ut into the 
 
 1 
 
 mill-yard, and heartily and respectfully greeted their 
 cMiplover, who invited them to join the party in a 
 walk 'down the race. While on the way one of 
 Wrinier's little hoys ran on in advance of tliem, and 
 seeing the shining substance so temi)tingly displayed, 
 the i)est picked upnearly every particle of it, and came 
 runnin<4 hack ahnostoutof breath, andcryhig, "Father I 
 Fatlieri See what I have found 1" Marshall and his 
 men each to heaven breatlud a silent curse on that 
 iiini)eeiit head for having spoiled their fun Sutter, 
 .seeing it, struck his cane into the ground and ex- 
 rlaimed, "By Jo! its rich." The boy lad left un- 
 litled the seams, and crevices, and gravel deposits, 
 and the men after all had an exciting time of it gold- 
 j)icking, Sutter among the rest. 
 
 Tliere is little wonder the statements are conflicting 
 when no one saw it all, and each was able to describe 
 correctly only those parts of which ho was an eye wit- 
 ni'ss. And after innumerable repetitions and disput- 
 ings, confusion arose. Some even denied that Marshall 
 was the first discoverer at Coloma, but this assertion 
 is not worthv "'f <'onsideration. Then tlu'n was a 
 controversy over the fii-st piece found, and what be- 
 came of it, more senseless than the rest. Sutter, at 
 Litiz, showed me a ring upon which was engraved on 
 the outside iiis coat of arms, and on the inside. "The 
 fir.st gold discovered in January 1848." And yet it 
 was not, speaking with exactness, the first gold dis- 
 covered; for Sutter says in his statement that some 
 of it he picked up himself, and some was given him 
 by tlie men then i)resent. The ring weighed an 
 ounce and a half. Then Mrs Weimer claimed to 
 liave had in her possession for many years the very 
 fiist piece picked U]), and which Marshall gave her. 
 This cannot be true, as according to ^larshall's testi- 
 mony the first piece weighed fifty cents, whereas Mrs 
 Weimer's piece was equal to five dollars ami twelve 
 cents. It is safe to conclude that the destiny of this 
 first jiiece is lost to history. 
 
70 
 
 AFFAIllS ABOUT THK COLO.MA SAW-MILL. 
 
 Tlic foUowiii}* oopios «»f HtateiiUMits may bo rclii'd 
 upon as correct, word for word with the rcsjKictivc 
 orifjjiimls. And as first in importance I ^ivo tlio ac- 
 count delivered me from his own hps by General 
 Sutter. 
 
 Oiu' liiiny afternoon in January 1848, MiirHliall, Irijiiiin^; with M.vtcr, i':i- 
 tcnMJ my olficu, next the giianl lionsc, in a liurritMl excitt'il manner, aiiil a k"<l 
 to SCO mu ulonu in tiiu )ii){ lulU^tu, wliirli was my privatu otliee, ami the clerk*' 
 olHue.i. I was Kurprisutl, iHJcau.so the tlay lieforc 1 hentup all tliat he wantcil, 
 
 mill-iron and evurytliing. I eouM not iuiauinu what ho wanted, yet I < ■ 
 
 ducted him to my private room.s, parlor anci hedriKini, ami wc entered a:id 
 Hliut tilt! door. In this parlor I had very ancient funiituru made liy tiie ilii - 
 Hiaiii at Fort Ross, tliu first manufactured in Califoniia, iKiIng of laurel, a:id 
 very clumsy. Yet it wa.s hotter than the chairs ia many ricii uumih home u.f 
 that jHsriod. Often have I jfono into the house of a well-to-do owner of larj,i) 
 herds of cattle, and have lu^en otl'ered a hulloek'n head to Hit on, as a cha i-. 
 Marshall a.sketl mo if the door was locked. 1 «aid, 'no, hut I will lock iu' 
 H(! wa-i a singular man, and I tiM>k this to ho some freak of his. I was nut 
 iu the least afraid of him. I had no weajMin. There was no gun iu tlic 
 room. I only supposed, at ho was queer, that ho ttMik thi.t tpUM-r way to tell 
 mo some secret. 
 
 lie tirst said to me, 'Are wo alono?' I replied, 'Yos.' 'I want two 
 howls of water,' said ho. I rang the hell for a servant. I had six ditferciit 
 signals for six dill'erent clerks and servants. The howls of water wen- 
 hraiight. 'Now I want a stick of redwood,' said Marshall, 'and some twiiu' 
 and some sheet coiii)er.' ' What do you want of all these things, Marshall ': ' 
 said L 'I want to make some scales,' he replied. 'Hut I have scalit 
 enough in the apothecary's shop,' saiil I. I had all the time a, doctor, when 
 I coidd get one, and a hospittil, and treated people without charge. 'I tl.il 
 not think of that,' said Mamhall. I went myself and got some scales. 
 
 Moauvhilo the d(.;ir had hecomo uidocked again, and so remained, although 
 it was oii the side of the room adjoining, my rooms l>eing douhle. It was 
 not my otlico, hut my private rooms. 
 
 When I returned with the scales, I shut the door, hut did not lock it 
 again. Then Marshall pulled out of his pantaloons' pocket a white cottmi 
 rag, widch contained something rolled iip in it. Just as he was unfolding it 
 to show mu the contents, the door was oj)ened hy a clerk nassiug througii, 
 who did i.'ot know that wo were in the room, ''ihere,' exclaimed Marshall, 
 (piickly thrusting the cotton doth again in his pocket, 'did not I tell you wi: 
 had listeners?' I appea ed him, onlered the clerk to retire, and locked the 
 door. Tlion lie hrou;rht out his mysterious secret again. Oi)ening the doth 
 ho hehl it hefiTC mo ni his hand. It contained what might have been ahr>\:t 
 an ounce and a half of gold-dust, flaky and in grains, the hirge*t]>iecenot (pii.i' 
 so large as a pea. and from tiiat down to Ton tlian a pin-head in si/c. 'I 
 hjliove this is gold,' said Marshall, 'hut tiie people at the mill laughed at 
 me, and called ino crazy.' I carefully examined it, and saitl to him, 'Well, 
 it looks so; wo will try it.' Then I wont to the apothecary's shop, ami g'lt 
 af(ua fortis and applied it. The stuff stood the test. Marshall asked me il 
 1 had any silver. I sivid, •yc?,' ancl produced a few dollars. Then we ]'iit 
 an e(}ual quantity in weight of goM in one side and silver in the other, ar.l 
 dropping the two in the howls of water, the g^ild went down and outweigln '1 
 tlie silver imder water. Then I Imuight out a volume of the old American 
 encyclopedia, a copy of which I happened to have, to see what other tets 
 there were. Then I .said to him, 'I he^ievc this is the finest kind of gold.' 
 
 Then he said he wished I would accomi»any him immediately to theniill. 
 It was about su])i)er-time, and raining l<ard. I said, 'You had better take 
 supper uow; I will go up early iu the niorniug, as soon as I have given my 
 
 
SUriKK S STAT KM KM'. 
 
 with water, i'!i- 
 Liiiuir, ami a k-.l 
 !, anil the t'liii'l;*' 
 that hu M iiittcd, 
 lilted, yi't I <'<iii- 
 wo eiitereil umiI 
 lailo hy tho Uu • 
 iig of laurel, a:iil 
 
 I iiu'n'rt home ii.f 
 
 II owner "f larj,.? 
 it im, as a ehai-. 
 lit I will hick il." 
 
 his. I was lint 
 s no gun in tlu- 
 jueer way to trll 
 
 I.' 'I want two 
 hail Hix tlitfiToiit 
 s of water wen- 
 'and 8iiiiie twine 
 liiig-t, Marshall'.'' 
 i\t I have sealiM 
 a doctor, whrii 
 1 large. 'Id. I 
 line Hcalex. 
 lined, althoii),'lt 
 nlilo. It wa-* 
 
 did not lock it 
 
 a white cotton 
 
 as unfolding' >t 
 
 lassing through, 
 
 aimed Marsiiall. 
 
 (it I tell you «c 
 
 and looked tlin 
 
 Idling the clcth 
 
 lave been aliout 
 
 itjiieeenot (jui.i' 
 
 lead in size. ' 1 
 
 mill lauglieil at 
 
 to him, 'Will, 
 
 's shop, and ^i^t 
 
 hnll asked iiif il 
 
 Then we juit 
 
 the other, ar.l 
 
 and outweighi'l 
 
 le old American 
 
 hat other tc ts 
 
 kind of gold. ' 
 
 tely to the mill. 
 
 hail better taUu 
 
 have given my 
 
 
 I 
 
 1 arraniji'd tlie nffairn of the day.' Mar thall would not Mait 
 ted and rodii otf in the rain. Tlio 
 
 men orders nnl 
 
 fur HU|)|iiT or aiiytliiug che, Imt iiioun 
 
 >|iirii'H sLTajii 
 
 tr. 
 
 At 
 
 I 
 
 < wiTti Ncry giMid to keep the rain < 
 
 and iliiniig "the nigiit, the ciir>o of t!io tiling hiir<t uiion my 
 
 iiow the I'liil would he, and the next day I 
 
 .;i\v tnim 
 
 thel 
 
 icginniiig 
 
 liid a nioliiichcly rido of it t«i the «aw-niili. Of couimc J knew nothing of 
 till! "Xtiiit of the discovcrv, hut I was N.iti.stied, wiictiier it ainounted to 
 null h or l.til'-, tha' it woiihi greatly iuterfci,. with my jilans. 
 
 .Vttriid.d ly my «<ri,'i'.iiit ami one of my soldii'iM ImMi Iiiiliann— I net 
 out iii'xt iiioriiiiig for the ill. II. When almnt iialf way tliere I ducoyered 
 
 oh|i'i-t iiioyiii'.; iiiMiU 
 
 t ill the liiislie.^n.ar tiie road. Tuniiiig to my attendant 
 
 I aiki'd, 'Wh.iL H that?' Ili^ rciilcd, 'It in tlio xaiiie man who wa^ wit'i 
 yiiu hut iiiulit.' liiiiim.' u|i, I found, sure enough, it wan Marshall. It wan 
 
 t'li'ii rainiin,' 
 
 hard. 
 
 II 
 
 ivc y 
 
 III liccii here all n 
 
 gilt? I a ked. 
 
 hi 
 
 idied, ' I >iM;nt tlie iiinht at tlie null, .-iiiil came hack thii-i f.ir to meet ym 
 
 Dm 
 
 toll 
 
 11, Marsiiall wa;* wtill yery re ales.: 
 
 II. 
 
 dh 
 
 iriiiii our rill 
 liidicycd the wiiule coiinliy iniind \va.srich with g.dd. When we arriyed lie 
 >viiit with liie to tlie iiidl race. I'luple were at work widening and dec|icii. 
 ill',' the race. Tlicii l.c tnlil thciii to ijiiit work and let tho water through. 
 Alter it had mil a wh 1 ■ he urdcrcd it .stopiii'd again. Mcaiiwhde the water 
 liad wadied the graycl and dirt away, and then wo went in linnting for t'.;e 
 littlo pieciM siicii a I .Marshall had hroiight down. I jiickcd Home np, and 
 t'lcii e.'icii of tlie Mormon.* gave mc soiiii', and .Marshall gave me Home, too, 
 'Tiu'ii I said, 'This all must ho made into a liii'.;cr-riiig, an hooii as wo can 
 get, a goldiiiiith,' and later this was done, and 1 liave this ring now. Here 
 It is. It wcl^lMal mil tail ounce and, i half, and lu'ar.4 the inscription, 'The first 
 tilth] dis •iiyeriid, in .laiiiiary |.S?.S. ' 1 h.id my coat of arms engrayed on it. 
 
 I told the people there that it was gold, that there was no mistake, and 
 t!iit I only aiked that it< discovery Mhoujd he ki'pt a secret for nix weeks 
 iiutd I got my lloiir-iiidl ready, ami they all were very willing to do ho. 
 
 IV.it this was not to he. 'I he men could not get along without ]iroyisioiis, 
 .iiid I sent Hoiiie up hy a ,Swi.;s teaimtcr. 1 .should have sent my IndiaiM. 
 Mn Weiiner had .-ome hoys, who s.'iid to tie! teamster, 'We have g 't some 
 gill 1.' Tlie man l,i:!glicd at tlicin, when the mother e.'iclaiiiied, 'Well, you 
 necil net laugh. It is true we li.-ive found gold. Look here, what do yiiu 
 call tl'vt? ' Tliii >yoniaii little knew the conseipieiiees to mo of this thought- 
 less wagging of her tongue. 
 
 '1 he tiMMHter .•'ecu re 1 sonic of this gold and rotunied to the fort. At that 
 time Sain Hraniiaii and (Jeorge .Smith, a relative of the great Mormon 
 prophet, now higli in tiie Utah church, kept a store in one of my outhouses 
 invir the fort. This was the tir.<t store, except my own, started in the valley. 
 There were then a good many settlers in the valley, and they hrought to this 
 Miirinon store hides talliw, and skins, and took away manufactured articles. 
 McKinstry, who ^vas willi me then, called it a shirt-tail stort!, for every time 
 I wanted a few things for my Indians, the iiroprictors I'Xidaimed, 'O, you 
 Mill lireak t!ie a4<ortiiient ! ' Xcvertheloss, this store assumed great iiiipor- 
 taiici ai soon ai gold «as discovered. 
 
 Wii:iien and wiii.key helped the thiiij' along. It was a fundamental iind 
 uiriUerahle law of the shirt-tail ston- tli.it credit should not he given f,ir 
 whiskey. This was altogetlier too valnahle a commodity to he trusted out. 
 The .Swiss teamster wa< universally tliir<ty. \U- wanted now a hottle of 
 lirandy. At the counter where he had heeii .so often refused, he iiresented 
 hi nielf, called for his poison, and at the saiiio time proudly came down with 
 the dust. 
 
 ' Wli.-t is that? You know very well licpior means money,' exclainiod 
 linither Smith. 
 
 'That is money,' replied the teamster. ' It is fohl.' 
 
 ' Yes, yes, that will do, ' said Smith. ' I have no time for your pleasant- 
 tries.' 
 
 'Go to the fort and ask the captain If you don't helievo me.' 
 
72 
 
 AFFAIRS ABOUT THE COLOMA SAW-MILT. 
 
 ■iSvii 
 
 ■'IJ 
 
 Smith came in hot haste, and said, ' Your man came to mc and said that 
 this is gohl. Of co'irae I knew he lied, and told him so.' 
 
 ' Nevertheless it is goUl,' said I, and so the secret was oat. 
 
 Next I will give the account by George Frederick 
 Parsons, which may be regarded as the best of Mar- 
 shall's versions: 
 
 On the morning of that memorable day Marshall went out as usual to 
 sujierintfmd the men, and after closing the fore-hay gate, and thus sliuttiiiK 
 on the water, walked down the tail-race, to sec what sand and gravel h.-iil 
 \)een removed during the night. This had 1 tee u customary with him for some 
 time, for he had previously entertained tiie idea that there might he minerals 
 in the mountains, and had expressed it to Sutter, who, Iiowevcr, only 
 lauglicd at him. On this cccasion, having 8trolle<l to the lower cud of tl:i! 
 race, he stood for a moment examining the mass of deliris tliat lia<l heen 
 washed down ; and at this juncture his eye caught the glitter of something 
 that lay, lodged in a crevice, on a riffle of soft granite, some six incile^< under 
 the water. His first act was to stoop and pick up tlie suhstancc. It was 
 heavy, of a peculiar color, and unlike anything he had seen in the stream 
 Iwifore. For a few minutes he stood with it in his hand, retlet'ting, and en- 
 deavoring to recall all that he had licard or read concerning the viiridiis 
 minerals. After a close examination, he became satistii^l tliat what he Iielil 
 in his hand must bo one of three sulwtances — mica, sulpliurets of coj)per, or 
 gold. The weight a.ssured him that it was not mica. Could it be siilpliunt 
 of copper? He remembered that that mineral is brittle, and tliat gobl is 
 malleable, and as this thought passed through his mind, he turned about. 
 placed the specimen upon a flat stone, and proceeded to test it by .striking it 
 with another. The substance did not crack or flake ofl"; it simply bent un- 
 der the blows. Ihis, then, was gold, and iu this manner was the flrst gold 
 found in California. 
 
 If we were writing a sensation tale, instead of a sobre history, we might 
 proceed to relate how Marshall sank, pale and breathless upon a neiglibnr- 
 ing rock, and how, as he eyed the glittering metul in his hand, a vision roM' 
 before him of the mighty results of his discovery. But in fact nothing nt 
 the kind occurred. Ihe discoverer was not one of thespasmodic and excita- 
 ble kind, but a jdain, shrewd, practical fellow, wiio realized tlic importance 
 of the discovery — though doubtless not to its full extent, since no one d.d 
 that then — and proceeded with his work as usual, after showing the imggi t 
 to his men, and indulging in a few conjectures concerning the proi)ablo ex tent 
 of the gold flelds. Asa matter of course he watclied closely from time to 
 time, for further developmento, and in the cour.e of a few dtiys had collected 
 several ounces of the precious metal. Although, however, he was satistieil 
 in his own mintl that it was gold, there were some who were .skeptical, ami 
 as he had no means of testing it chemically, he determined to take some down 
 to his partner at the fort, and have the (juestion Hn.ally decided. Some four 
 days after tiie discovery it became necessary for him to go below, for Nutter 
 had failed to send a supply of provisions to the mill, and the men were on 
 short commons. iSo mounting liis horse, ancl taking some tliree ounces of 
 gold dust with him, he started. Having always an eye to business, he 
 availed himself of this opportunity to examine the river for a site for a lum- 
 ber yard, whence the tnnber cut at the mill could be fli>atcd down; and 
 wliile exploring for this purpose he discovered gold in a ravine iu the foot- 
 lulls and also at tlio place known afterwards as Mormon island. That 
 niglit he slept under an oak tree, some eight or ten miles east of the fort. 
 where he arrived about nine o'clock the next mornmg. Dismounting from 
 his horse, he entered .Sutter's private office, and proceeded to en(|uire into the 
 cau<e of the delay in sending up tiie jirovisious, Ihis matter having been 
 explained, and the teams being in a fair way to load, he asked for a fe«' 
 Uiiuutcs' private conversation with Colonel Sutter, and the two entered a 
 
 
Ljli. 
 
 c and said that 
 
 Frederick 
 ;st of Mar- 
 
 out aa usual to 
 il thus shutting 
 anil gnavel liail 
 th him for some 
 cht be minerih 
 liowever, only 
 >wer end of tlie 
 I tliat liatl heon 
 erof soniethiiij; 
 lix inches under 
 stance. It wiis 
 1 in the stream 
 lecting, and eii- 
 ing the various 
 at M-hat he held 
 ts of copiier, or 
 1 it he sulpliunt 
 nd tliat g(dd is 
 J turned aliout. 
 it hy striking it 
 simply l)ent un- 
 %a the first gold 
 
 tory, wo might 
 ion a neighlicir- 
 d, a vision ro>c 
 fact nothing ot 
 |odie and excita- 
 tlie importuucf 
 nee no one d.d 
 inc the nugg< t 
 riujahle extent 
 y from time to 
 s had eoUected 
 e was satisiied 
 fikeptical, and 
 akc some dowii 
 1. Some four 
 low, for [Sutter 
 e men were on 
 hree ounces ot 
 ) husiness, he 
 site for a luni- 
 eil down; and 
 no in the foot- 
 island. That 
 st of the fort. 
 lounting from 
 Imiuire into tlie 
 r liaving heen 
 lieil fi>r a few 
 two entered a 
 
 
 I 
 
 MARSHALL AND BROOKS. W 
 
 little room at the hack of the store, reserved ab a private office. Tlien 
 Marshall showed iiim the gohl. He loolied at it m astonishment, and, stdl 
 douhimg, asked wiiat it wa.s. His visitor replied tliat it was gold. * I'npos- 
 sihlo' was tliu incredulous ejaculation of Sutter. Upon this Mar.diall 
 aske.i for some nitric acid, to test it, and a vaquero having Iweii despatched 
 to the gunsiiiitli's for that i)uri)ose, .Sutter encpiired whether tliere was no 
 otlier way in wliieh it could Ikj tested. He was told t!:at its character 
 might he aseertaine.l hy weighing it, and accordingly some silver coin— .fS.p'), 
 waiall the fort coidd furnish— and a pair of sinaU scalen or balances haviiiff 
 lieen ohtoined, Marshall iirocee.lcd to weigh tho dust, first in the a:r, aiid 
 t'leu in two b..wl« of water. Tlie experiment resulted as he had fore een. 
 T'le (In <t went down; the coin rose r;rlitl3' up. Mutter gazed, and hn doubts 
 faded and a sul>se(|uent test with the nitric acid, which by {\m t;me had ar- 
 rve.l,' se-thid the (I'.uwtion finally. Tiien the excitement began to .spread. 
 Sutter knew well the value of the discovery, and m a short; time, hav.ng 
 iinde hurried arran>;emcnts at the fort, he returned w;th M:ir;hall to 
 t'oloma, to see for him.self the wonder that had been reported to him. 
 
 Here is wliat purports to be a verbatim ."('latioii by 
 Sutter to J. Tyrwliitt Brooks, quite different and in 
 n)aiiy places contradictory to that o;iven by liim to 
 otliers. One can easily iinajj;ine bow Sutter liimself 
 iJiiLilit chaiiLjc^ liis story in its several narrations accord- 
 iiij^ to humor and audience: 
 
 I wa.< sitting one afternoon, said the caj)tain, ju<»t after my siesta, cnf;an;ed 
 by-the-by, in writing a letter to a relation of mine at Lucerne, when 1 Mas 
 iii:errui>ted l<y Mr .Marsliall— a gentleman w itii wliom I liad freijuent bu ine ts 
 t:a:i iaetioiis — bursting hurriedly into the room. Fro;ii tlie unusual agitation 
 ill h < manner 1 iuiag Med tliat someJiing sirious had occurrel, and, as vo 
 iiiviihiiitarily do in tliispart of the worhl, I at onee glaneeil to see if my ride 
 w n in its pro]ier jilaee. You shnidil know that the mere appearance of Mr 
 Mir hall at that moment in tlie fort was <|uite enouf.'!i to .surprise me, as he 
 I. id, but two day.s before, left tlie jilaee to mak.^ some aUerations in a mill 
 f ir .sawii g pine planks which he iiail ju;t run up for mo, some miles higl;er 
 uit the Americanos. When he hail lecuvered him-eif a little, he told nieti;;it 
 h'Wever great my surjiri e might be at bin unexpected reappearance, itwoiild 
 be mucli greater wlien I heard the intelligeneo lie had eonio to bring mo. 
 'intelligence' he added, 'which, if properly prolited by, would jiut both ot 
 ui in pin session fif unheard of Mealth-niillions and millions of dollars, in 
 fact.' I frankly own, when L hea'd this, that I thought something had 
 t udied .Marsliall's brain, vheii sudii""'vall my misgiving) were jmt toane:id 
 1 y his dinging on the table a handl'nl oi scales of jiure virgin gold. I was 
 f.i rly thunderstiiiek, and a keii him to exjilain what all this meant, when ho 
 w .lit on to say, that accord ng to my instructions, he had thrown the mill- 
 M '^cd out of gear, to let the v]u \v body of the water in the dam liiid a jias- 
 s:i re through tl:e tail-race, M'liich \ias previou ly too narrow for the Mater to 
 run nlF in sufficient ipiantity, Mlicreby the M'heel M-as previ'iited from etii- 
 ( i.nily jicrformiiig itsMork. ]$y this alteration the narruM- channel Mas coii- 
 sdera lily enlarged, and a mass of saniiandgravcl carried off by the force of tl:e 
 tnireat. Karly in the morning after tlii.s took place, he- Mr Mar>!iall — Mas 
 walking along the left bank of the stream, M'heuhe perceived something which 
 he at first took for a piece of opal- a clear, transparent stone, very common hero 
 - flittering on one of the spots laid bare liyth.e sudden crumbling away of the 
 bank. He iiaid no attention to this ; butM'hilebe was giving directiiuis to tlio 
 Mdikinen, having ob-<erved several iiimilar j/littering fragments, his curiosity 
 Mas so far excited, that ho stooiied doM-n and picked one of them up. ' Do you 
 
74 
 
 AFFAIRS ABOUT THE COLOMA SAW-MILL. 
 
 m 
 
 IiII^Cji: 
 
 know,' said Mar.ihall to me, ' I positively debated within myself two or throe 
 t.me.4, whether I uhould take tlio trouble to bend my back to pick i r» one of 
 the pieces, \nd had decided on not doing ho, when, further on, anotlier glit- 
 tering morsel caught my eye— the largest of the pieces now before you. I 
 condeijcended to pick it up, and to my astoni.diment found that it was a tliin 
 scale of what appears to Ite puregidd.' He then gathered some' twenty or 
 t'.iirty s'imilar pieces, wliich on examination convinced him tliat his suppo.i. 
 tious were right. His first impression was t'.iat this gold had been lost or 
 buried there ny some early Indian tribe — perhaps some of those mysterious 
 inhabitants of the west, of whom Me have no account, but who dwelt on tl;is 
 continent centuries ago, and built those cities and temples, theruina of which 
 are Koattcred about the ;e solitary wilds. On proceeding, however, to exam:i:e 
 t'.;e noigliboring soil, he discovered that it was more or less auriferous. This 
 at once decided him. He mounted his horse and roiledown to me as fast nn 
 it would carry him, with the news. At the conclusion of Mr Marshall's iu- 
 count, continued Captain Sutter, and when I had convinced myself, from 
 the t-pecimens he ha<l brought with him, that it M-aa not exaggerated, I ft It 
 ai inuili excited as liimself. I eagerly enquired if ho had shown the gold to 
 the work-iH!ople at the mill, and was glad to hear that ho had not spoken t(i ii 
 single per., on about it. We agreed, said the captain, smiling, not to i:.( ii- 
 tion the circum stance to anyone, and arranged to set oflf early the next (l::y 
 for the mill. On our arrival, just before sundown, we poketl the sand abo\it 
 in various place.-i, and before long succeeded in collecting between us moie 
 than an ounce of gold, mixed up with a good deal of sand. I stayed at .Mr 
 Mar;!!iairs that night, and the next day M-e proceeded some little distance r.p 
 the south fork, and found tliat gold existed along the whole course; not only 
 in the bod of the main stream, where the water nad subsided, but in evi-iv 
 little dricd-up crook and ravine. Indeed, I think it is more plentiful in these 
 hitter places, for I, myself, witli nothing more than a small knife, picked out 
 from a dry gorge, a little way up the mountain, a solid lump of gold wliicli 
 weighed nearly iin ounce and a half. On our return to the mill, we ■wcru 
 astonished b/ the work-people coining up to us in a body, an<l 8ho«iiij,Mii 
 small llakcs of gold similar to those we had ourselves procured. Mar li.ill 
 tried to hiugli t!ie matter off with them, and to persuade tliem that Mliat 
 thoy hail found wa< <mly some shining mineral of trilling value; but ono ( f 
 thi IiKlians, wlio l;ad worked at the gold mine in the neighlmrliood of J,:i 
 I'az, in Lower California, cried out 'oro! orot' We were di.^appointedenoiij.'li 
 at this discovery, and supposed that tlie work-people had been watching oi,r 
 movements, aUhough we thouglit M'e had taken every precaution ag;i ii t 
 being observed by t!iem. I heard afterwards that one of tliem, a sly Ki;i- 
 tuckian, had dogged us about, and that, looking on the ground to see if !:•' 
 could discover what we were in search of, had lighted on some Hakes of goid 
 himself. 
 
 The following is an account taken by Mary P. 
 Winslow, in Deconibor 1874, from Mrs Wicmcr, wlin, 
 with her husband, was then in San Francisco scokiii ,' 
 relief from the society of Pioneers. The writi r 
 speaks of Mrs Wiemer as a fine large woman of soiii' 
 sixty summers, with an intelligent kindly face. 
 
 We arrived here November 1840, with a party of fourteen families, acinus 
 the plains from Missouri. On arriving at Sutter's fort, Sacramento, \\>- 
 found Froiiiont in need of more men. Aly husband enlisted before we li li 
 got the oxoii unyoked, and loft me and seven cliildren at the fort in the i in 
 of Commissary Currin. Wo drew our rations like commim sohliers for i 'i:r 
 months. Captain Sutter arrangoil a room for us in tiie fort. As soon i- 
 Mr Wiemer returned from .Santa Clara, where he had been stationed dm iii." 
 
 ~1" 
 
AILL. 
 
 Wis. WIEMER'S STORY. 
 
 75 
 
 lyself two or three 
 to pick 1 1 one i>f 
 • on, anotlier glit- 
 iw licfore you. I 
 , that it was a tliin 
 ed Boine twenty or 
 I that hia suppo i- 
 i iiad heeu lost or 
 >f those niysterioiis 
 t who dwelt on tl.is 
 , the ruins of whkh 
 owever, to exaniiiio 
 jsauriferoua. Thin 
 wn to me as fast ;is 
 ' Mr Marshall's ac- 
 inced myself, from 
 exaggerated, I ftlt 
 I shown the gold to 
 I had not spoken ti> II 
 nil'.ng, not to r..< u- 
 early the next il :;y 
 oked the saudahout 
 g between us nioiu 
 d. I stayed at Mi- 
 me little distance i.p 
 lole course; not only 
 )sided, but in evtry 
 lore plentiful in tht'se 
 iiall knife, picked out 
 lump of gold which 
 1 the mill, we Mire 
 ody, and showinj^ \n 
 procured. Mar !iall 
 lade them that wliiit 
 ig value; but om; if 
 neighborhood of I.a 
 ilisappointeil enoii;;h 
 il been watchin),'or.r 
 precaution agn" t 
 of them, a sly K' '.i- 
 ground to see if .:'" 
 n some Hakes? of yoid 
 
 by Mary V. 
 
 Wiemcr, who, 
 
 Giiicisco soekin;; 
 
 Tlie writir 
 
 woman of s<»iiie 
 
 ' face. 
 
 irteen families, across 
 fort, Sacramento, vi- 
 ilistod before wo li;i'i 
 at the fort in the c-.w 
 mvni soldiers for i""' 
 ;ho fort. As BOO" •!* 
 been stationed dm ing 
 
 the M'intur, he joined three others and went over the mountains to what is 
 now called Donner lake to fetch over the etlects of the Donner famdy, 
 after tiiat terrilde winter of suffering that you have lieaid about. In Juno 
 IhlT tliey loaded all our household plunder for Battle creek, up on the 
 Sacraiiionto, to put up a saw-mill, but they changed their ph«u and went to 
 Coloma. (.'.;ptain Sutter and J. W. Marshall were eipial partners and were 
 tlie lieail of tlie expedition. After Kcven days of travel, we arrived at sun- 
 down a mile al)ovc the town. Next morning Mr Wiemer went out to select 
 a site for the saw-mill, and I, a site for the house. Ho was to oversee tlie 
 Indians, be a handy man about, and 1 was to bo cook. W'v had from fifteen 
 to twenty men employed. 
 
 ' l?ut you iiad some lielp from the Indians, didn't you ? ' asked the writer. 
 •(Hi no. except to scratch out the pots and sweep out the dirt floors. We 
 BOOM had a log htmse, a good log liouse, and a log heap to cook l)y.' 
 
 'I'hev liad been working on tlie mill-race, dam, and mill about six months, 
 when, One morning along tlie last ilays of December or the lirst week of 
 Januiiry, 1847 S, ;!ftcr an absence of several days to the fort (that was our 
 i San Francisco in those diiys) Mr Marsli.all took Mr Wiemer and went down 
 i to see what had been tlone while lie was away. The water was entirely shut 
 ' otl' and, as they walked along, talking and examining the M-ork, just ahead 
 of them, on a little, rough, muddy rock, lay something looking bright, like 
 .gold. They both sfiw it, but Mr Marshall was the first to 8loo]).ti) pick it 
 up, and, in he looked at it, iloubted its being gold. Our little son Martin 
 wa< along M'ith them, and Mr Marshall gave it to him to bring uj) to me. 
 He came in a hurry and said: 'Hito, mother, hei'c is something Air Mar- 
 shall and pa found, and they want you to put it into salaratus water to 
 see if it will tarni.th.' I said, 'This is golil, and I will throw it into my 
 lye kettle, which 1 had just tried with a feather, anil if it is gold, it will bo 
 goM wlieu its ciunos (mt. ' I tini.ihed off my soap that day and set it off to 
 c ■', .III it staj'cd there till next morning. At the breakfast table one of 
 t' ' »■' i- haiiih raised up his head from eating and said, 'I heard :;ouie- 
 tiii ; lout gold being di-icoveriid, M'hat about it?' Mr Marshall told him 
 to ask Jenny, and I told him it was in my soap kettle. Mr Mar.diall said it 
 was then! if it had not gone back to (' lifornia. A plank was brouglit for 
 mo to lay my soap onto, and I cut it in chunks, but it wat not to be found. 
 At the bottom of the pot was a double handful of potash, which I lifted in 
 my two hands, and there was my gold as bright as it could be. Mr Mar- 
 shall still contended it was not gold, but whether ho was Jifraid his men 
 woidd le.vve him or he really thought so I don't know. Mr Wiemer re- 
 marked tliat it looked like gold, weigiied heavy and wouM do to make money 
 out of. The men ])roinise<l not to lea\e till the mill -was finished. Not be- 
 ing sure it was gohl, Mr Wiemer urged Mr Marshall to go to the fort and 
 have it tested. He did so and Oeorgo McKinstry, an as.sayer, jiroiiouiucd 
 it gold. Captain Sutter came right un with Mr Marshall atid called all tlie 
 lndi:iiis togctlier, and agreed with them to certain boundaries th:it they 
 cl.iiiiied, ;ind on the right of discovery demanded thirty jier cent of all gold 
 taken out. They in iiayiiieiit were to give the Indiaiu a ci'rtain numbi'r of 
 h.indki'rchicfs, pocket-knives, looking-glasses, shirts, beads, and other 
 trinkets. 
 
 ' Mrs Weimer will you be kind enough to tell me how you came hi posses- 
 sion of this jiiei'O of g lid.' 
 
 'Yei; it was just this way; one day Mr Marshall Mas packing up to 
 g I away. He had gathered together a good deal of dust on the thirty per 
 nut iMHiness, and had it buried under tiie lloor. In ovi'rhaiilini; his tra[ps, 
 he said to me in the presence of Klislia I'aekwood, 'Jenny, 1 wdl givi' vmi 
 tliis piece of goM. I always intended to have a ring made from it for "my 
 mother, but Twill give it to you.' I took it and have liad it in my posses- 
 f-'on frorii that day to this. ' Vou have not the exact date of the discovery 
 ot gold?' '\o, but it was somewhere about the holidays, for I know that 
 Captain Sutter had sent up to ine a dozen bottles of brandy, six for the men 
 
70 
 
 AFFAIRS ABOUT TEE COLOMA SAW-MILL 
 
 and Rix tor me. ' Tliu iiiuce of sold I must describe. Its value ia bctwocii 
 four uiid live doUaro. It looks Tike a piece of spruce gum just nut of tuu 
 iiioutli of u school-girl, except tlie color. It is rather Hat, full of iiideiiia- 
 tioiis, just as the teeth make in a piece of nice gum. There are one or tuu 
 rougli points on the edge, which, with a little stretch of the imagination, 
 gives the appuiu-aiice of a ir.an's head with a helmet on; then, turn it an- 
 other way, and, as Mrs Wiemcr said, 'itlook^ like some kind of variiiint 
 or other. It can easily lie identitied by any one wholun ever seen it befoic 
 Other accounts of secondary importance are given l)y liiirstow, Slieriiiaii, 
 Ma:<on, Bidwoll, tlic Ainiilx (}/' Suit Fritiirinrtt, the /{■jn-iMiiifjithr Mrn nj I r 
 I'liriji, , Tuthill, liittell, Dunbar, Woods, and a multitude of uewspapir 
 writers. 
 
 ii y 
 
 11 i 
 
 (roin*^ back to Biglcr's diary I find it of interest U) 
 follow him for a few days after the discover}'. 
 
 The men hastened the work at the mill, so as to 
 keep hy their promise with Sutter, and be sooner able 
 to diii^ for^old; and though some spoke of throvviiM^r 
 up their employment, yet the fear that the mines 
 were not rich deterred them. On Sundays, however, 
 they went into the tail-race, and scratchin*.' about 
 with their butcher knives fretjuently obtained from 
 three to vhj]\t dollars. The first s-'old discovery be 
 yond the limits of the Coloma saw-mill was on Sun- 
 day, the ()th of February. Early that morning Biglir 
 said he would cro.ss tli(> stream and try the ba^^e rocks 
 facing the saw-mlU; Barger said he would go witli 
 him, and the two started, taking only their knivc s. 
 U|) to this time none of the mill hands knew tln' 
 simple process of washiiig, nor hdd tluy ever sei ii 
 rockers; the way they gatht?red the gold was to pick 
 it up grain by grain as it lay on tli«?: Kjcks, or wltii 
 tlieir kmves dig it out from the crevicis and hole r 
 On this Sunday ]->igler secured ten dollars. For d' - 
 termliiiiig the value of gold-dust, he made a light p;;ir 
 of wooden scales; and by balancing tvvolvii and a hiili' 
 cents in silver with gold-dust, lie formed a ratio of oin 
 bit to two dollars, twenty-live cents to four dolhiis. 
 and so on. Bigler seems to have been the only oi c 
 wlio was seriousU' affected l>y the news of the <><iM 
 discovery. Not «'ontent to wait till the i\ext Sunday, 
 he on Saturday afternoon threw down his pick, for i.i' 
 with Brown and ethers were digging at tlie race, aiid 
 
 mm 
 
[ILL 
 
 ^^^^AT bicler did. 
 
 77 
 
 valuo is lietweeii 
 I juat out of tiie 
 t, full of intleiua- 
 re are one or two 
 tlie iiiiaginatioii, 
 then, turn it an- 
 J kintl of vanniut 
 jvcr seen it liufoir. 
 liirstow, SherniiiM. 
 iiiitiitii'e M'H Hi I' I- 
 tude of uew»l<ai>»^^r 
 
 of interest to 
 )very. 
 
 mill, so as to 
 1)0 sooner ai tie 
 o of throwiii;,' 
 lat the mint 8 
 lays, howevt r, 
 ■atohin*.^ about 
 obtained from 
 i discovery bt 
 11 was on Sun- 
 norning Bigl*'!' 
 the ba^e r<)cl<s 
 vould jjjo witli 
 tUeir knivrs. 
 lids knew tli"' 
 (cy ever seta 
 )ld was t<» piilv 
 rocks, or with 
 ices and boU-^- 
 lavs. For d';- 
 wle a lii-dit piir 
 clv«> and a bull 
 d a ratio of ow 
 to hwv doUuis. 
 ■n tbo only one 
 vs of tbe goM 
 e next Sunday. 
 
 »vc 
 
 k,f< 
 
 or i.f 
 
 bis I 
 
 it tbe race, aa( 
 
 broke out, "I say, Brown, let us have your gun, 1 
 want to shoot some ducks." Brown told him to take 
 it, and Biglcr left tliem. As he walked along the 
 rivor l)anks lie kept thinking of gold; and when about 
 lialf a mile below the mill he fancied that on the op- 
 jHtsite side of the stream the rocks looked similar to 
 ' the on(^ wliereon he had found gold the previous Sun- 
 day. They were bare, and it also seemed that tber(3 
 liad forna^rly been a slide ; so taking off his clothes 
 ^:he waded over, and found the ground glistening with 
 I golden dust. The next day was rainy, so the men 
 eniained within doors; but Bigler, without saying a 
 ord to any one, started down the river, crossed over 
 Wto the san'ic rocks, and obtained eight dollars. On 
 till' following Sunday, still keeping ids own counsel, 
 lie went to the same spot and picked up a little over 
 ^f an ounce and a half All through the next week he 
 * Morkfd stea<lily at the mill; "but about this gold, if 
 there was anything in it," he asked himself, "should 
 not the brethren elsewhere know of it?" So ho wrote 
 <rf it to Jesse Martin, Israel Evans, and Ephraim 
 ( Jreen, three of liis former messmates in. tlic Mormon 
 Itattulion, then at the Houring-mill, but asked thej^ 
 not to mention it to m\\ one, unless to those in whom 
 they could trust. On Tuesday, the 2'2d of Fel)ruaiy, 
 n fall of snow stopped work, and while the men were 
 at breakfast Marsliall walked into the cabin and said, 
 "Boys, it is going to be slippery to day," pointing to 
 the upiier story of the saw-mill, which had to be 
 raisid, " and rather bad about putting up the frame ; 
 vou mav work if you see fit, or let it alone." TIic 
 men were glad to take a holiday, and each one had an 
 e\('us(\ Alick Stevens declared he wanted to mend 
 liis trousers; Brown thought he would ]»re[iare a dish 
 of peas; and Bigler, who was present, said to Bnnvn, 
 "If you will let me have your gun, I will go and 
 Hh<»ot deer." "Take it," was the reply. Bigler 
 started, and climl>in}j a hillock a little to the west of 
 the mill, looked about as hunters do befort; choosing 
 

 
 11, J' 
 
 AFFAIRS ABOUT THE C'OLOMA SAW-MTLL, 
 
 their course. His eye glancinj^ down tlie river fc 11 
 uiMHi the rocks where he had twice found gold. Itlv 
 hesitated for a moment, tlien turned to the ri;j;lit, 
 made for the river, and was soon opposite his favorite 
 place. The late rains had swollen the stream, and 
 the water was verv C(>ld. Tins did not deter hlni, for 
 undressing and carrying his gun and clothes, lie wad( d 
 over; hut when he reached the opposite hank he wa.s 
 so benundn'd that he could not work. He tried to 
 light a fire, hut his fingers refused to hold the ihut 
 and steel. He then tried to catch fire from his gun, 
 a cap-lock, but while in the water the charge had got 
 wet. The only way left was to run and jump ; and 
 the most exasj)erating part of it was that right hefoic 
 him. starini; liiin in the face, was what he souii'ht, and 
 f)r which he had braved the danger of deadly cramps, 
 hut which now he was powerless to grasp. Snow had 
 fallen: the dav was cloud v, and the mists heavv. ( hi 
 th<! bare rock the snow soon melted; in the crevict s 
 and di-ep ]daces it renuiined. As soon as he became 
 a little warm, Bigler set himself to work, first seardi- 
 ing the u])per rocks, thence slowly working his way 
 down to the water's edge, where it was so j)lentiful 
 that he spent the remainder of tlu^ day }>ickiMg it i p, 
 grain by grain, from the tiniest speck to the lump 
 W'rrth over five dollars. As he dug out the gold, ju; 
 put it in his cap. The labor was so engrossing that 
 night ciune on before he was aware of it. As lie 
 arose, and tried to straighten himself, he cried out 
 with pain. He tiiought his back was broken; and 
 without recrossing the river, he made his wav alonij; 
 the bank, until wh< n opposite^ the dam, he called for 
 Brown to bring over the raft. 
 
 Meanwhile the sus])icions of his comrades had been 
 aroused, and no sooner had he reached the cabin than 
 they began to question him. Why had he crossed 
 tlie river? Or if he wi.-hi^d to hunt on that side why 
 had he not crossed it iii the. morning ? It was ?io use 
 trying to deceive then> further, nor was Bigkr in the 
 
ILL. 
 
 HUNTING FOR GOLD. 
 
 lie river fdl 
 1 gold, ilo 
 } the riijjl.t, 
 
 his favorltu 
 stroam, and 
 Rter him, tur 
 L>s, lie wath'd 
 bank he was 
 Ho tried to 
 [)ld the iiiut 
 roiii his gun, 
 irixc had s»«it 
 I jump; and 
 
 rijiht hifnif 
 > soug'ht, and 
 adly cniiiii's. 
 . Snow had 
 
 lieavv. ( 'ii 
 
 tlio crevic* s 
 ^s lie horaiiif 
 
 first scan li- 
 iiWiS. his wav 
 
 so pU'ntitiu 
 
 iokiiijj; it v]*. 
 
 () tlu' hiiint 
 
 >e <>•(> 
 
 tl 
 
 rossiuij: 
 
 hi. 
 
 that 
 
 it. 
 
 A*^ 
 
 u> crR'( 
 
 out 
 
 hrokeii; and 
 
 Is wav 
 
 oiiii 
 
 lie ca 
 
 al 
 lied f 
 
 111' 
 
 Ics had het'ii 
 cabin than 
 ho crossed 
 
 I at side why 
 was Jio use 
 
 wl. r m liH. 
 
 th 
 
 humor for it. Drawing the rag in whicli the gold 
 was wrapped from his pocket— "No," exclainis the 
 narrator parenthetically *'»f>t that exactly either; 
 I will tell the truth Mr Bancroft ; I had tied it up 
 tur saf« '-keeping inthe((»rnerof iny shirt," — he showed 
 it to his friends. They took it from hhn, weighed it, 
 and found that he had gathered a little short of an 
 ounce and a half. There was no further secret dig- 
 ging for Bioler, for on the next Sunday, the 27th of 
 J'cbruary, five others determined to accompany him; 
 and they sinnt the day, lying prostrate with their 
 faces to the ground, scratching and hunting for the 
 pi-ecious particles. 
 
 That night arrivi'd from i)elow three of the Mormon 
 boys, FicHeld. Sichu-y Willis, and Wilford Huds<m, 
 ^\ itli their guns and blankets on their hacks. It ap- 
 |.carsthe secret writti'U to Martin, (Jreen, and Evans, 
 was told, for easier kee]»ing, to other three;, who tind- 
 iii'-- it heavv, started at once for the saw-mill, saving 
 to their coni])anlons that tiny were going on a visit, 
 and for a few ilays' shooting. IMarshall happened to 
 be in the house when they arrived, and instead of 
 being (►trended at Bigler's faithlessness, talked good 
 liuinoredly about their prospects till a late hour, and 
 gave Hudson ])ermission to dig in the tail-race. 
 Therefore earlv next morniiiLf the three went thither, 
 and not long after Hudson ])i( ked np a lump worth 
 about six dollars. On Thuisdav, the I'd of 
 ^larch, tlie Mormons took their depaiture for the 
 Houring-null, Willis and Hudson tollowing the river 
 to look for gold, and Fiefield, accompanied by Bigler, 
 l>'oin*j; bv the road. 
 
 All four met at the flouring-mill. All the way 
 down tlu! river, though passing over some of the rich- 
 est de[»osits, Willis and Hu(lson gathered oidy fifty 
 cent-4 ; and so disyusted were thev that tlu^v refusi d 
 to hi ve anythmg more to do with the bushiess, 
 thoui^h uru'ed bv their friends, who volunteered to iro 
 buck with them. Bigler, however, returned to 
 
 ..,,,;■, , . - 
 
80 
 
 APPAmS ABOtJT THE COLOMA SAW-MILL. 
 
 [if 
 
 Coloma, whore nothing of note occurred till Sunday, 
 the 11th ot* March, when Miirshall started the saw- 
 mill running. The following week was spent in deep- 
 ening the fall in the tail-race ; but on Sunday all went 
 gold-digging, when Bigler secured two ounces. About 
 this time Bigkr took charge of the Indians, teach- 
 ing them to saw and chop wood. Though anxious 
 enough to learn, they were extremely awkward, ar.vl 
 were continually hurting or cutting themselves. Ho 
 worked in this manner until Friday, the 7th of April, 
 when he, Stevens, and Brown, started for the fort 
 to have a settlement with Sutter, and to tell him 
 that they wished to leave for Salt Lake. On the 
 evening of the next day they arrived at the Houring- 
 n)ill, and found the place well-nigh deserted. They 
 were told that Willis and Hudson, with others, were 
 up the river getting gold. Bigler stayed over Sunday 
 at the flouring-mill to make arrangements as to what 
 they should buy of Sutter for their intended journey. 
 Those present agreed to send in advance a few men 
 to pioneer a route across the Sierra, the main body to 
 be in readiness to start in the beginning of June, with 
 the exception of eight men who were to leave the fol- 
 lowing Saturday with an express for the States. Next 
 day Bigler and his friends stai-ted for the fort with 
 Browett who was to act as spokesman, but were una- 
 ble to see Sutter, or buy the seeds, cattle, horses, and 
 tv.o brass cannon they wished. On Tuesday they 
 left the fort for home, intending to turn their atten- 
 tion for the rest of their stay to gold-digging. As 
 t^Jiey could not make the journey in a da}', they cn- 
 c:Vmped for the night at a ereek fifteen miles from thi' 
 flc\uring-mill, and next morning Bigler, whose mind 
 wa3 running in one direction, began to look for gold; 
 and he and his four companions soon found about ten 
 dt)llars. As Willis and Hudson were not far away, 
 they determined to look them up and see what success 
 had attended them ; so keeping close to tiie river they 
 soon came across them, at what afterward was called 
 
 A 
 
DOIKOS OP TTtli: MORMONS. 
 
 •I 
 
 Mormon island. Five persons, Ira Willis, Jesse B. 
 Martin, Ephraim Green, Israel Evans, together with' 
 Hudson and Sidney Willis, were at work, and had, on 
 that day. obtained two hundred and fifty dollars. 
 Higler here noticed an improvement in mining, for one 
 « r two of the Mormons had Indian baskets, and were 
 aide hi a short titne to wash out from twenty-five 
 cents to two dollars. 
 
 l^igler arrived at Coloma on the 13th, and from 
 tliat date he and his friends began mining. It was 
 iwird work, for the only tools they had were their 
 knives. He tried to get an Indian basket, but none 
 were available ; and so had to use a tray on which he 
 kixrded dough to serve as a washer, while Alick 
 Stevens did good service with his wooden wash-bowl. 
 Tliere was only one tin pan, about the size of an 
 eight quart basin, among ail the miners ; so they had 
 to (-arry the dirt in sacks from the dry gulches, a mile 
 below the mill, to the river, some five to six hun- 
 dri'd yards distant, and there wash and separate the 
 gold. In less than tiiree weeks after Bigler's arrival 
 at the sjiw-mill the great rush to the mines took place, 
 and soon the little gulches were thronged with eager 
 gohl-seekers, who disputed Marshall's claim to the land, 
 and (luj:; where they pleased. Among the strangers 
 was an old Sonoran who was evidently a miner. He 
 thig a hole and filled it with water. Then he fitted 
 into it a cotton sheet, into which he shovelled dirt, 
 which the water dissolved, leaving the gold sticking 
 to tlio cloth. Bigler and Brown then tried the same 
 nictliod, but with partial success. 
 
 It was at this juncture, the middle of June 1848, 
 tliat Bigler, and many others of the Mormon battal- 
 ion, turned their faces toward the new city of the 
 saints. None tell us how hard it was for them to 
 kave the fascinations of the gold fields for the distant 
 desert, or whether it was hard at all. But it is very 
 certain that there were few in the canons of the 
 
 Cai.. Int. I'oc. 6 
 
AFFAIRS ABOUT THE COLOMA SAWMILL. 
 
 i'ti 
 
 Slorra foothills who wouUl then have turnod tl.c ir 
 back on Mammon for tho service of any other gi !. 
 
 After this the world came flockint; in. The n««i: n 
 round Marshall's mill soon swarmed with <jold-seek(rs. 
 Two thousand dii^gers were at work there, with kni\ « s, 
 picks, shovels, sticks, tin pans, wooden bowls, willow 
 baskets, and cradles, pickinj^ crevices, scrapin;^ rocky 
 beds, riddling gravelly sand, and washing dirt for tl:r 
 metal. Shortly after there were some four thousand 
 upon the ground, if we include natives, who wciv 
 mostly enj[>loyed by white men. It was then ilis- 
 covered that all about in the vicinity of Marshali's 
 mill gold abounded. Virgin placers were found cii 
 Feather river, on Deer creek, on Yuba river. New 
 discoveries followed in quick succession, each addiii;; 
 fuel to the flame. Every gulch and ravine was ])i(is- 
 pected, and there was scarcely a spot where gold wr.s 
 not, though not always in paying (luantiti-s. Finally 
 the fiict became apparent that all along the base df 
 the Sierra, on every affluent of the Sacramento and 
 San Joaquin, from one end of the great valley nf 
 California to the other, almost every rivulet, gul( li, 
 and canon was rich in gold. 
 
 "Some fifty thousand persons," writes one wIki 
 deals largely in exaggeration, on the 8th of Nov<'iii- 
 ber, 1848: "are drifting up and down the s1o[m's of 
 the great Sierra, of every hue, language, and cliiiu'. 
 tunmltuous and confused as a flock of wild geese ti>k- 
 iny: win*' at the crack of a gun, or autumnal leavt s 
 strewn on the atmospheric tide by the breath of tlio 
 whirlwind. All are in search of gold; and, with eyc^ 
 diluted to the circle of the moon, rush this way and 
 that as some new discovery, or fictitious tale of suc- 
 cess may suggest." Says another in a letter to tlio 
 New York ./onrval of Commerce, from Monterey un<i« r 
 date of August 29, 1848, "At present the people are 
 running over the country and picking it out of the 
 earth here and there, just as a thousand hogs let 
 
[ILL. 
 
 (I.KRK "AL K\ A< K i KUATION. 
 
 uriu'd ti;< ir 
 other <j;( '.. 
 
 The r(';j;i; ii 
 jjold-sockcrs. 
 witli kiilvt s, 
 owls, willow 
 ■a[>iii;jj rocky 
 • dirt for tiic 
 lur thousand 
 ,, who wtic 
 lis thou dis- 
 •f Marshall's 
 re found «>ii 
 river. New 
 each adiliiiLT 
 lie was pros- 
 lore ijold wi.s 
 i'>s. Finally 
 
 the base of 
 raincnto and 
 
 at vallev nf 
 vulet, gul« li, 
 
 cs one wlio 
 of Nov<'iii- 
 le slopes lit 
 and cliiiu'. 
 I jj^eese tak- 
 mnal leavts 
 rcath of tlio 
 id, witli eyo 
 lis way ami 
 tale of suc- 
 etter to tlit' 
 iterev uiuii r 
 people i\\y 
 
 out of till' 
 
 nd hogs kt 
 
 1....SO in a fon^st would root up ground nuts. Some 
 u t eight or tell ounets a day, and the least active one 
 nr two. They make iiKtst who employ the wild In- 
 dians t(» hunt it for them. There is one man who lias 
 >ixtv Indians in his employ; his profits are a dollar a 
 minute. The wild Indians know nothing of its value, 
 and wond<T what the pale faces want to do with it; 
 ;nid they will giv«! an ouiu'e of it for the same weight 
 of' coined silver, or a thimhleful of glass beads, or a 
 Ljlass of grog. And white men themselves often giv.^ 
 an (»unce of it, whi(di is worth at our mint eighteen 
 <|oll,iis or more, for a botth- of brandy, a bottle of 
 soda p(»wders, or a plug of tobacco." 
 
 Then stn-anis began to form in every quarter; in- 
 land streams and ocean curr<'nts, social tricklings and 
 iM»zin<j;s from scattered and far distant homes, gather- 
 ing into rivulets, and expanding into human rivers, 
 iiiciiasing in strength and volume as they neared 
 that worshipful irold. Bands of ilevotees were origan- 
 i/i'd for pilgrimages, in which Christendom and 
 |»ajfandom might join alike, in Avhioh all the sons of 
 nit 11 might join and bow before one common shrine. 
 
 In vain we search the annals of mankind for a 
 similar flocking. The nearest akin to it were the 
 (^hristian crusiides made in the ninth century, and 
 subse(|uently, for the recovery from profane hands of 
 tli(.' tomb of Christ — wild fanaticism, folly incredible, 
 yet under providence working out for civilization the 
 'j;i-andest results, bringing together antagonistic socie- 
 ties, forcing oppugnant elements to coalesce, and melt- 
 ing and moulding humanity into more useful and 
 cnmelier forms. But the world was smaller then 
 than now, and although the numbers were large they 
 comprised comparatively few nationalities, and the di.;- 
 tance travelled was less. In the nineteenth century 
 there were cosmopolitan crusades for gold wherewith 
 to make rich the finder, and add volume to the world's 
 circulatliKj' medium. Was the ijold sousxht in these 
 modern pilgrimages essential to human well-being, 
 
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 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, NY. 14580 
 
 (716) 873-4503 
 
 
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84 
 
 AFFAIRS ABOUT THE COLOMA SAW-MILL. 
 
 as appeared to be the quasi possession of Christ's 
 sepulchre ? The central idea of the Christian cru- 
 sades was fanaticism; that of the Plutonic crusades 
 was avarice. Which is better or worse, which has 
 done the more for or against human progress, is not 
 here a point of discussion. The question is, whether 
 gold is more valuable than religion, or avarice a 
 nobler passion than fanaticism ? Has the world then 
 grown no wiser nor more sober in ten centuries ? Yet 
 as in the mediaeval crusades great benefits from great 
 evils came, so in the latter-day crusades for gold, good 
 will come of them; but the great good God there- 
 from designed for man, California has yet to tell. 
 
 First those nearest at hand felt the subtle influence. 
 The ox-team of the emigrant turned toward Coloma ; 
 the trapper left his peltries, and the ranchero his herds, 
 curious to see what this thinoj should mean. The 
 excitement was felt by the devoted Mormons, 
 some 6f whom attempted a small settlement on the 
 Stanislaus, which they called New Hope, and immedi- 
 ately they were reconciled to digging gold as if by gen- 
 eral agreement. Sutter was nearly ruined by the dis- 
 covery. On the instant his laborers deserted him 
 almost to a man, leaving a mill unfinished, and all his 
 property exposed to the depredations of the rabble, 
 which were more serious than those of the natives 
 had ever been. They drove off his cattle, squatted 
 on his land, and then combined and beat him in the 
 courts, when courts were established. Marshall was 
 swept away by the tide. 
 
 Immediately following the discovery, most of the 
 provisions for the mines were obtained at Sutter's fort ; 
 then traders went to Sonoma for supplies. One would 
 think that these early settlers, with leagues of land 
 and thousands of horses and cattle, and of native la- 
 borers, should have reaped a harvest from the gold 
 crop. And so they did, most of them, at first, but so 
 strange and unprecedented was it all to them that 
 they became bewildered ; gold poured in upon them 
 
EFFECT OF THE GOLD DISCOVERY. 
 
 SO freely that it seemed as if it would never be want- 
 ing again. Between the embarcadero and the fort, 
 "boatmen were shouting and swearing; waggoners 
 were whistling and hallooing, and cracking their whips 
 at their straining horses, as they toiled along with 
 heavily laden wagons to the different stores within 
 the building ; groups of horsemen were riding to and 
 fro, and crowds of people were moving about on foot. 
 It was evident the gold mania increased in force as 
 the eagerly longed-for El Dorado was approached. 
 Every store and shed was being crammed with bales 
 of goods, barrels of flour, and a thousand other things 
 for which a demand had suddenly sprung up. The 
 captain's own house was like a hotel crowded with 
 more visitors than it could accommodate." 
 
 The incomers could not obtain accommodations 
 within the fort, and were obliged to content themselves 
 with camping outside. "It was not easy to pick our 
 way through the crowds of strange people who were 
 moving backwards and forwards in every direction," 
 says one who was present. "Carts were passing to 
 and fro ; groups of Indians squatting on their haunches 
 were chattering together, and displaying to one an- 
 other the flaring red and yellow handkerchiefs, the 
 scarlet blankets, and muskets of the most worthless 
 Brummagem make, for which they had been exchang- 
 ing their bits of gold. Inside the stores the bustle 
 and noise were even greater. Some half a dozen 
 sharp- visaged Yankees, in straw hats and loose frocks, 
 were driving hard bargains for dollars with the crowd 
 of customers who were continually pouring in to bar- 
 tor a portion of their stock of gold for coffee and to- 
 bacco, breadstuff, brandy, and bowie-knives. Of 
 spades and mattocks there were none to be had. In 
 one corner, at a railed-off desk, a quick-eyed old man 
 was busily engaged with weights and scales, setting 
 his own value on the lumps of golden ore or the bags 
 of dust which were being handed over to him, and in 
 exchange for which he told out the estimated quantity 
 
 '< IK 
 
 m 
 
 w > 
 
80 
 
 AFFAIRS ABOUT THE COLOMA SAW-MILL. 
 
 of dollars. These dollars quickly returned to the 
 orighial deposit, in payment fur goods bought at the 
 other end of the store." 
 
 Owhig to the scarcity of coin, gold-dust did not 
 bring over two thirds of its real value. On the fourth 
 of June, Mormon island and its approaches presented 
 scenes of the greatest excitement. A numerous cara- 
 van was moving along toward the no longer ridiculed 
 El Dorado. 
 
 In July, Colonel Mason, then military governor of 
 California, visited Coloma, and found Marshall livhig 
 near the mill, while there were many persons at work 
 on the river above and below him. Crossing over to 
 a stream, since known as Weber creek, three or four 
 miles below the mill, he found at work one Suilol, 
 with about thirty employed natives, who received their 
 pay in merchandise. Eight miles above was a large 
 number of whites and Indians, some working in the 
 river bed, and others in the small valleys. These 
 latter were exceedingly rich, two ounces being consid- 
 ered the average yield for a day's work. In a small 
 gutter, not more than a hundred yards long by four 
 feet wide and two or three feet deep, two men had 
 shortly before obtained $17,000 worth of gold. An- 
 other small ravine had yielded $12,000, and on every 
 side there were hundreds of such. 
 
 The poor natives gathered round to pick up a few 
 crumbs of civilization, and with a new money buy new 
 comforts to supply new wants. Gold-dust by the 
 bushel had been within tlieir reach for ages; but with- 
 out the conventional value i)laced upon it by the cun- 
 ning of progress, it was of no use to them. Now, de- 
 prived of their natural resources, they herded about the 
 mining camps, being permitted occasionally by the 
 kinder-hearteil miners to wash a |)an of dirt from their 
 claims, or to sweep the sluice-boxes. Fretjuently they 
 obtained quite a little quantity of gold on the rivers 
 bv scraj/mg the crevices of claims abandoned bv the 
 white men. Even In the davs of their dcjtjeneration, 
 
 food 
 hold( 
 
SAVAGES AND GEXTE DE RAZON. 
 
 87 
 
 the men maintained their lordly dignity, and loft all 
 the gold-digging to the women. These obtained 
 sometimes two or three dollars a day each, and with 
 the proceeds of their labor they bought food and 
 finery. 
 
 One would think that with thousands of acres of 
 valuable land stocked by immense herds, with gardens 
 and orchards and fields of grain, the influx of a vast 
 gold- producing and agricultural population, requiring 
 food and farms, would have made the great grant- 
 holders monarchs of wealth and industry. But such 
 was not the result, Tlie old Mexican-Californians 
 hereupon proved themselves a comnmnity of children. 
 No sooner was the discovery of gold announced than 
 hired laborers, mechanics, herders, and retainers 
 dropped their iniplements, abandoned their trust, and 
 rushed for the mines. No amount of money which 
 the landed proprietor could offer was sufficient to 
 hold them. Thus left defenceless, he was overrun by 
 swarms of adventurers, who drove off" his cattle, shot 
 his Indians, and took possessi(jn of his ground. 
 
 Even the sedate gente do razon caught the infec- 
 tion, and taking with them their servants and retain- 
 ers, hastened to the mines, and selecting a favorable 
 spot, put their men at work, while they sat in their 
 tents in state, or strutted about from camp to camp, 
 or lounged down among the boulders. The relations 
 of man and master, however, were soon severed in 
 t!ie mines, the one casting off" old ties and and affec- 
 tions and setting up for himself, and the other return- 
 ing home to mourn to the end of his days over the 
 rapacity of the Yankees, and his loss of o[)portunity 
 and loss of property, which, after all, were due for the 
 most part to himself. 
 
 The soldiers in the service of the United States 
 were also seized with the gold fever, and abandoning 
 tlieir ])osts, ran off" to the placers. It was almost 
 impossible to retain crews on their ships. The pioneer 
 steamship, California, on her first voyage lost all her 
 
88 
 
 AFFAIRS ABOUT THE COLOMA SAW-MILL. 
 
 crew ; and in order to return to Panama had to en- 
 gage men at enormous wages. Thus, while her com- 
 mander, engaged by the owners in New York, was 
 receiving $250 per month, the chief engineer and the 
 black cook had |500 each, the firemen $250 each, and 
 the seamen $200 per man. This state of things did 
 not last long. The next steamship of the line anchored 
 under the guns of the United States line-of-battle 
 ship Ohio, and her men could not desert. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND. 
 
 I hiive seen servants upon horses, and princes walking aa servants upon 
 the earth. 
 
 — Ecclesicuites. 
 
 California, in 1848, stood on none of the world's 
 highways. It was an isolated amphitheatre, a valley 
 on which the sun was ever setting, far away from civ- 
 ilization and the homes of the gold-worshippers. On 
 one side were seas of land, on the other seas of water. 
 And the water and the land both were vast and bil- 
 lowy, trackless, and often showing their hostility to 
 man each after its fashion. One or the other of these 
 seas of desolation, or their equivalent in obstacles, 
 nmst be crossed before the dragon-guarded treasure 
 could be touched. 
 
 Now the journey to the mines, occupying as it did 
 weeks or months, and being made by companies or 
 aoforreirations of men, women, and children, called forth 
 new phases of human conduct, no less than did life at the 
 diggings. Two days out, whether on plain or ocean, 
 and the pilgrim began to feel himself a new being, 
 the chrysalis from which he had emerged being his 
 late environs. The metal of which he was made was 
 as yet scarcely recognizable, but the fire was a-kindling 
 which should quickly determine it. Therefore it is 
 proper to delineate and preserve characteristic sketches 
 of overland and ocean travel to California durinir the 
 flush times. 
 
 And first as to travel overland. The prairie seas 
 were not wholly unknown ; even the prairie schooner 
 
 (89) 
 
00 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND. 
 
 had navigated some portions of them. Since Cabeza 
 de Vaca the Spanish castaway, Moncliat Ape the 
 learned savage, Lewis and Clarke, Fraser, Thompson, 
 and the others first to traverse different localities, Ste- 
 phen Long had ascended the southern branch of the 
 Nebraska or Platte river to its source, and an overland 
 trade had sprung up between the United States and 
 Mexico. Ashley had ascended the north branch of 
 the Platte, and had encamped near the head waters 
 of the Colorado. 
 
 The year following, 1824, Ashley continued his dis- 
 coveries through the South pass to Great Salt Lake, 
 built a fort in Utah valley and left there a hundred, 
 men. In 1826, a six-pounder cannon was drawn from 
 ]\Iissouri 1200 miles through the wilderness, and 
 planted within this fort. In 1827, many heavily laden 
 wagons performed the same journey, penetrating far- 
 ther westward ; among others, Mr Pilcher, who with 
 forty-five men and a hundred horses crossed the Rocky 
 Mountains by the South pass, wintered on the Colo- 
 rado, and ill the year following proceeded to Fort 
 C(jlville, then recently established by the Hudson's 
 Bay Company. From tliesc and other points in the 
 Great Basin, hundreds of trappers, traders, and emi- 
 grants crossed the Sierra at the several passes between 
 San Bernardino and Shasta, and descended into the 
 valley of California. 
 
 Smith, Jackson, and Sublette, able and enterprising 
 men, continued the explorations of Ashley, and during 
 the years 1828 and 1829, they traversed the whole 
 region between the Columbia river and the Tulare 
 lakes, and down to the borders of the sea. Smith 
 fell a prey to the savages, it will be remembered, in 
 1829, after having twice crossed the continent to the 
 Pacific ocean. In 1832 J. O. Pattie, a Missourian 
 fur-hunter, published an account of his rambles 
 through New Mexico, Chihuahua, Sonora, and Cali- 
 fornia. He boated up and down the Colorado, crossed 
 Sonora to the gulf of California, and thence to the 
 
 of 
 
SOME EARLY TRAVELLERS. 
 
 01 
 
 Pacific. Captain Bonneville of the United States 
 army, while on a furlough in 1832, with a hundred 
 men and more than twenty wagons, achieved in the 
 regions round the Colorado and Columbia many ad- 
 ventures made thrilling and jocose by the facile pen 
 of Irving Captain Wyeth, of Massachusetts, about 
 this time entertained plans similar to those devised by 
 John Jacob Astor in 1809, which were to concentrate 
 the fur-trade of the United States, and establish unin- 
 terrupted communication by means of a line of posts be- 
 tween the Atlantic and the Pacific. Wycth's project 
 was to establish trading posts on the Pacific slope, 
 and send thither manufactured goods, bring back furs 
 and salmon, and also ship furs to China. To this 
 end he made two overland expeditions to the Colum- 
 bia, planted Fort Hall on Lewis river, north of Great 
 Salt Lake about a hundred miles, and a fishing post on 
 Wappatoo island, near the junction of the Willamette 
 and Columbia rivers, and within a short distance of 
 tlie coast. Then boijan emioration to flow into Ore- 
 gon from the United States, as alone the eastern part 
 of our domain was then called: agriculturists and 
 religious teachers, founded little colonies in tlie 
 valley of the Willamette, and in the regions of Walla 
 Walla and Spokane methodists and presbyterians 
 opened schools, and Jesuits fnmi Saint Louis, notable 
 among whom were fathers De Smet, Mengarini, and 
 Point, attempted the conversion of the natives. In 
 1839, at Walla Walla, was set up the first printing 
 press on the Pacific coast north of ^lexieo. Mean- 
 while, notwithstanding the efi'oi'ts of the Mexican au- 
 tliorities to prevent it, stragglers, — trappers, traders, 
 and emigrants, — percolated through the mountains 
 bounding Ca u'briiia on the east, and trespassed on 
 her lands. Taese intruders would scmietimes engage 
 themselves to work for the Californians, or to nuirrv 
 their daughters and receive grants of land, cattle, and 
 the catliolic religion. A i)arty of trap[)ers frimi Mis- 
 souri arrived at Fort Yuma in 18"J7, among which 
 
92 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND. 
 
 were some emigrants for California, The glowing 
 btorios of the fur-hunters concerning the beauty, fer- 
 tility, and climate of California, between the years 
 1825 and 1840, found here and there Hsteners who 
 determined to make the venture. 
 
 After all this comes John C. Fremont calling him- 
 self explorer, and pathfinder, which latter truly he 
 was, — finding the paths others had made rather than 
 making them himself 
 
 Three great emigrations, each three years apart, mark 
 the exodus of the people inhabiting the frontier states, 
 and the tide of overland travel westward to the slope 
 ot the Pacific. The first was that to Oregon in 1843, 
 some of which on nearing the Pacific turned oiT and 
 entered California, guided along the Humboldt by the 
 famous mountaineer, Joe Walker. At this time many 
 kept the Oregon trail as far as Fort Hall, or Fort 
 Boise, on Lewis river, before branching off for Cali- 
 fornia. 
 
 The second was that to California in 1846, pending 
 hostilities between the United States and Mexico. 
 These a . v^enturers were assured that California was 
 a most delightful country, one every way desirable to 
 settle in ; that it was thinly peopled, and except along 
 the seaboard almost unoccupied; and that now the 
 nation was roused to arms, engaged in a hand to hand 
 conflict with a weaker power, which would probably 
 result in the acquisition of all that territory by the 
 stronger; or at all events the United States could 
 protect citizens settled on the Mexican frontier, if 
 not, finally, they could protect themselves. This 
 spirit and this emigration were encouraged, both by 
 the government and by popular feeling. The result 
 proved as had been anticipated; scarcely had the 
 emigrants of 1846 arrived in the valley of California, 
 when the whole magnificent domain fell a prize into 
 the lap of the United States, and these hardy hunters, 
 ox-drivers, and land-tillers, found themselves upon 
 
THE THREE GREAT IMMIGRATIONS. H 
 
 the spot just in time to reap a rich harvest. It was 
 ill this year, and the year previous, that the Mor- 
 mons, having been previously expelled from Nauvoo, 
 Illinois, made their way out of the accursed land, and 
 found an encampment at Council Bluff on the Mis- 
 souri river, which was the rendezvous, or place of 
 preparation for a further westward journey, a journey 
 which should place the Rocky Mountains a barrier 
 between them and the hated gentiles. 
 
 The third great overland emigration was in the 
 sprin«jj and summer of 1840, when Gold I was the 
 watchword along the line, and Ho for the diggings 1 
 was painted on the canvas wagon-covers ; when ava- 
 rice warmed the heart, and fired the brain, and steeled 
 the sinews; when in the dreams of the ox-drivers 
 wagon loads of yellow nuggets rolled out of rocky 
 canons into pastures green as Arcadian vales, wherein 
 the cattle might graze, and drink from the Pactolean 
 streams that watered it. 
 
 It was during the middle one of these great migra- 
 tions that the Donner tragedy occurred. It was in 
 1846 when a party attempted a new route from Fort 
 Bridger, round the southern end of Great Salt Lake, 
 and through the Truckee pass of the Sierra Nevada. 
 The company was composed of George Donner, wife, 
 and five children ; Jacob Donner, wife, and seven chil- 
 dren; J. F. Reed, wife, and four children; W. H, 
 Eddy, Breen, Pike, Foster, and others, with women 
 and children ; in all about eighty souls. 
 
 The journey across the plains under favorable con- 
 ditions was by no means an unpleasant one. Though 
 somewhat monotonous, it was capable of being made 
 both healthful and pleasurable. Many a one who, 
 reduced by disease, had set out upon this journey 
 with little hope of ever reaching the end, arrived in 
 California well and strong, like a man newly made; 
 many a one, alas! set out well and strong who met 
 death ere his journey was completed. In company 
 
 \m 
 
04 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND. 
 
 with otlicrs, some bound for Oregon and sonic for 
 California, the Donner party had a prosiKious j'-vii'- 
 ney from tho Missouri, and passed the gnat divide 
 in good health and spirits. The longer half of tho 
 journey was acronipli.shed; the cattle were in go* d 
 condition, and j.rovisions abundant ; it was yet nild- 
 suninier, ample time thought they to escape tho 
 snows of tho frowning Sierra. So, buoyant with an- 
 ticipations of a speedy and prosperous termination of 
 their travels, they arrived at Fort Bridger, one lum- 
 drod miles east of Salt Lake, on the 25th of Jul v. 
 It was tlieir intention to have continued in the Oreg( n 
 trail as far as Fort Hall, or bevond, before turning 
 southward toward California, but they were inducitl 
 to deviate from the usual route by L. W. Hastings, wli(» 
 assured them that he had found a way shorter and 
 better than the old one, a cut-ofi* it was called, tho 
 name referring to the route and not the travellers. 
 Nor did Mr Hastings wilfully misrepresent matters 
 as many charged him with doing, for his route wns 
 essentially the same as that taken by the emigration 
 of 1849, and by the overland stage and railway. 
 
 A. J. Grayson, the eminent ornithologist of Mexico 
 and California, led a party of pioneers in this emigra- 
 tion. He was accompanied by his young, devotid 
 wife, and out of solicitude for her welfare, or otlu r 
 cause, he escaped two great dangers of the journey 
 as by intuition. In a letter from San Francisco 
 written February 22, 1847, speaking of Hastings and 
 his route which was represented to be better and 2rj0 
 miles shorter than the old way, Mr Graysen ,'ays : 
 " This news created some excitement amonjtj the end- 
 grants; some were for going the new route without 
 reflecting, whilst the more prudent were for going by 
 the old trail via Fort Hall. I for one consulted Cap- 
 tain Walker, who happened to be at Fort Bridgor 
 and well acquainted with both routes, and also a man 
 whom I could believe ; so I took his advice and went 
 by the old trail, together with a respectable portion 
 
 adA 
 
ROUl'ES AND CUTOFFS. 
 
 of OTnij.'rants." Arrived at Fort Hall there ai>iKartd 
 aiu)tli( r allurement in the shape of a cut-off. " Here 
 wc nu>t with a Mr AppUgate," continues ]Mr Gray- 
 sen, "just from Oregon, who came that far to meet 
 the emigration, and conducted tlu m through a new 
 route which he had discovered over the Cascade 
 mountains to Oregon. This was good news to the 
 emigrants, as it was re})resented as hring a nearer and 
 better route of course. This caused a good manv to 
 go to Oregon who were bound for California, as they 
 thought they would reach tluire before they could 
 California. But the nature of the route led me to 
 believe it a very difficult one, if not impassal)le for 
 wagons, which I have sinct" learned was the case. 
 This route continues on the Califia-nia trail nearly to 
 the California mountains, where it takes a north- 
 west direction over two lofty ranges tf mountains — 
 the Cascade and the Umpqua," 
 
 Resting three days at Fort Bridger, the Dormer 
 company turned their faces southward, passed Salt 
 Lake, and on toward the Truckee river. But alas ! 
 the farthest way round would have been the shortest 
 way to their destination. Although this route was 
 shorter and better than the other, it was then new, 
 unbeaten, and often these emigrants were compelled 
 to stop a day, or two days, sometimes eight days to 
 explore, to cut away underbrush, to grade a bluff or 
 bridge a marsh. Arrivhig at the southern end of 
 Salt Lake they fell into the track of a company in 
 advance of them, and so for a time made better pro- 
 gress. But short was their sheen. At a place to 
 which they gave the name Twenty Wells, they spent 
 the night of September 6th. Some of the wells, 
 which vary from six inches to nine feet in diameter, 
 they sounded to a depth of seventy feet and found no 
 bottom. After a hard day's drive, the next evening 
 they encamped in a beautiful meadow covered with 
 luxuriant grass, and where w^ere natural wells like 
 the others, Upon a split stick conspicuously placed 
 
 M 
 
 "?»-ii 
 
 3 
 
dd 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND. 
 
 they found a letter from Hastings, who had gone 
 before, saying that betw'jen this point and the 
 next water were two days and nights of hard driving ; 
 so they rested the next day and refreshed themselves. 
 Cutting grass for the cattle, and laying in a supply 
 of water for the two days' desert, the Great Salt 
 Lake plain they called it, at daylight on the morning 
 of September 9th they broke camp. 
 
 It was a dangerous thing to do, to cast themselves, 
 their wives and little ones, their cattle and all their 
 belongings, into an unknown desert where they had 
 been assured that with no mishaps, and by straight 
 and hard driving, there were two days between them 
 and water; but there was now no help for it. The 
 result proved most disastrous. The third day, at 
 noon, Eddy and some others, with their cattle, suc- 
 ceeded in reaching a spring seventy-five miles distant 
 from the last wells, but they were obliged to leave 
 their wagons twenty miles behind. About dark Reed 
 came up, and stated that the rest of the wagons were 
 forty miles behind, and that the fainting cattle were 
 being urged forward to the water by the drivers. 
 Reed and Eddy immediately started back, the latter 
 with a bucket of water, which he carried five miles for 
 a prostrate ox. Reed met his cattle with their drivers 
 ten miles back, and went on to assist the Donners ; 
 but Reed's cattle all died before they reached water. 
 It was not until the evening of the 15th that all ar- 
 rived in camp, having left many of their wagons scat- 
 tered along the track, and half their animals dead. 
 
 Affairs now began to look serious. Some families 
 were completely ruined ; dread forebodings began to 
 arise in the minds of all. With the ill-fated desert 
 behind them they could not retreat ; before them the 
 way was dark and uncertain. The surviving cattle 
 were exhausted, and the woodwork of the wagons 
 shrank in the dry air until the spokes rattled in the 
 wheels, and the tires seemed ready to fall off. Tak- 
 ing the cows and all loose animals, feeble and dis- 
 
 pa.ssc 
 
THE DONNER PARTY. 
 
 97 
 
 heartened they continued their way, but were soon 
 obhged to bury a portion of their property. That 
 day thej' encountered an ominous snow-storm, and 
 made but six miles; the next day they passed over 
 some low mountains, and encamped in a well-watered 
 valley. October 1st saw them slowly travelling along 
 down Ogden river. 
 
 And now begins a tale whose sickening details blot 
 pages of our annals ; a tale before which I would 
 gladly close my eyes and lay down my pen ; a tale 
 which calls in question whether indeed there be in 
 man, left to himself, any divine spark, any innate 
 good. More bloody than beasts, more insane than 
 demons, these human castaways in a desert wilder- 
 ness, surrounded by their wives and children, first 
 shot at by savages as they pass along, fall to fighting 
 among themselves. Some oxen becoming unruly, two 
 teams are entangled, whereupon the drivers swear; 
 then one of them threatens to thrash the owner, and 
 dealing him a heavy blow with the butt end of his 
 whip, receives in return a stab which stretches him 
 dead upon the plain. Reed, who does the killing, 
 though regretfully and in self-defence, is driven from 
 the camp. Thereupon he marches on before tlie oth- 
 ers, dodging the arrows of the savages and giving the 
 company warning of impending attacks, and thus 
 pa.sses over the mountains into California. Continu- 
 ing their way, an old, worn-out man, whose feet had 
 swollen to bursting, is left behind to die. In vain 
 does my unwilling credulity look for escape; in vain 
 do I seek some excuse for the pitiless act ; the doers 
 of the deed themselves tell the story, and say their 
 cattle could not draw him. Hardcoop, from Antwerp, 
 Belgium, sixty years of age, ill and worn out, was the 
 abandoned man, and Eddy, the narrator of the fact,, 
 he who refused him conveyance. One Kiesburg. a 
 most loathsome villain, of whom more hereafter, thrust 
 from his wagon the old man, and when besought by 
 his companions to return for him, replied, " I will not 
 
 Cal. Int. I'oc. 7 
 
THE JOURNEY OVERLAND. 
 
 kill my horses for old Hardcoop." Some offered to 
 go back on foot and bring Hardcoop forward, but the 
 others refusea to wait for them. 
 
 Daily their cattle lessened in number, some drop- 
 ping from exhaustion, some being shot or stolen by 
 the natives. In such cases, wago::T and property were 
 buried at different points. One of the party, a Ger- 
 man, having lost all his oxen, wished the company to 
 stop while he concealed his effects. This the others 
 refused to do ; so selecting two men, likewise Germans, 
 he prevailed on them to help him, assuring them that 
 they could easily overtake the train. Three days 
 after the two men came up, and told a story of on- 
 slaught by the savages, in which their employer was 
 killed and the property burned. As the dead man 
 had money, no one doubted that the others murdered 
 him for it. Intense selfishness governed the actions 
 of women as well as of men. Eddy, having lost all 
 his property, picked up one of his children, and his 
 wife another, and thus they marched along, until 
 fainting, they begged first of one woman and then of 
 another, a little meat to save their little ones from 
 starvation. They were everywhere refused. Unable 
 to get water, Eddy begged a pint of one who had ten 
 gallons, and was likewise refused. " I will have it, 
 or your life," cried the man, now desperate, and took 
 it accordingly. The Donners had suffered severely 
 with the rest, but up to this time their losses were 
 less than some of the others. 
 
 On the 29th of October, they reached the eastern 
 base of the Sierra, which loomed before them high 
 into the heavens, a white wall glistening with frosted 
 pines. Climbing upward as far as they could go, they 
 found the top of Truckee pass five feet under snow. 
 Returning to a cabin near their camp of the preceding 
 night, they rested next day, and on the Slst the whole 
 party again attempted to cross the mountains. They 
 ascended to within three miles of the summit, where 
 they now found ten fiaet of snow, each moment thick- 
 
 enet 
 how 
 and 
 
AT CONNER LAKE. 
 
 99 
 
 ened by the clouds. It was very cold. The wind 
 howled round the crags, and the whirling snow blinded, 
 and every moment threatened to engulf them. They 
 saw how impossible it was to proceed farther, so re- 
 turning to the cabin, they made preparations to win- 
 ter there, near what is now called Donner lake. 
 
 Soon their horses and cattle were all gone ; some 
 butchered and eaten, others strayed and buried in the 
 snow. A little game was with difficulty killed, but 
 not sufficient to satisfy hunger. Starvation stared at 
 them. It was death to go away, and death to remain 
 there ; it is easier, however, to die in active endeavor 
 than in passive despair. After three several failures, 
 Eddy and sixteen others, five of whom were women, 
 succeeded in crossing the summit on snow-shoes. 
 This was on the I7th of December. They were now 
 in the heart of the Sierra, faint, having but little 
 food, and almost buried in the soft snow, which con- 
 tinued falling day after day. They had one gun, but 
 not a livinjcf thins was to be seen. Some were stricken 
 with snow-blindness, and on the 23d of December, 
 one, Mr Stanton, from Syracuse, New York, fell be- 
 hind and perished. It was each for himself; they 
 were all now as fiends seven times hardened. 
 
 Christmas found them burrowing in the snow, and 
 debating whether to attempt to proceed or to give it 
 up. Eddy and the women determined to go on ; the 
 others sullenly refused to move. From the start the 
 allowance had been one ounce of food to each, three 
 times a day ; now they had been without any food for 
 two days. One, Patrick Dolan, proposed the casting 
 of lots to determine which should die. Eddy assented; 
 William Foster objected. It was then proposed that 
 two should fight until one was slain ; tlien that they 
 should continue their journey until one should suc- 
 cumb, which last proposition was finally accepted. 
 Then they staggered on three miles farther and en- 
 camped. With great difficulty they succeeded in 
 lighting a fire, but during the night it was extin- 
 
 l 
 
 
100 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND 
 
 guished by the storm. About ten o'clock one An- 
 toine died; three hours after, another, Graves; the 
 next day another, Dolan, the day after, one more. 
 Murphy. Plenty of man-incat now 1 Two went 
 mad ; the rest took turns praying. Tighter the skin 
 cleaved to the fleshless bones, wilder and fiercer grew 
 the sunken eyes, and fixed and more fixed the features 
 of the ghastly faces. Hunger even left them, and 
 they moved about their shrunken carcasses as if just 
 dragged from the grave. 
 
 After lying under their blankets in the snow for 
 two days and nights they struck a fire, and all but 
 Eddy, as he says, "cut the flesh from the arms and 
 legs of Patrick Dolan, and roasted and ate it, avert- 
 ing their faces from each other, and weeping." The 
 29th of December they departed from the Camp of 
 Death, as they called their last halting-place, and 
 went forward. Eddy would probably have died but 
 for half a pound of roasted bear-meat which he acci- 
 dentally found while fumbling for something in his 
 pouch. It was wrapped in a paper on which was 
 written in pencil, '* From your own dear Eleanor." 
 Ah 1 the boundless devotion of woman. He had left 
 his wife behind, and now she starves herself and little 
 ones to save him. Though he struggled manfully to 
 rescue them he never saw wife or child again. Eddy 
 was at last obliged to succumb, and feed on his fellows 
 or die. He reported that he " experienced no loathing 
 or disgust, but his reason, which he thought was 
 never more unclouded, told him that it was a horrid 
 repast." 
 
 Swearing vengeance on Hastings, as others 
 swore vengeance on Jesse Applegate for having de- 
 coyed them, as they called it, into his cut-ofF, they 
 staggered along, leaving on tlie white snow of the 
 Sierra the crimson tracks of their bloody feet. Of 
 the party were a Mr and Mrs Fosdick. The 4th of 
 January, 1847, Fosdick died, and the body was left 
 about a mile back from where they camped that night. 
 
ON THE SIERRA. 
 
 101 
 
 In the morninjjf, Mrs Fosdick, feeling that she must 
 kiss once more the cold lips of her dead, started back for 
 that purpose. In the words of Mr Thornton, Eddy's 
 narrator, "two individuals accompanied her; and when 
 they arrived at the body, they, notwithstanding the 
 remonstrances, entreaties, and tears of the aflnficted 
 widow, cut out the heart and liver, and severed the 
 arms and legs of her departed husband. Mrs Fos- 
 dick took up a little bundle she had left, and returned 
 with these two persons to one of the camps, where 
 she saw an emigrant thrust the heart through with a 
 stick, and hold it in the fire to roast. Unable to en- 
 dure the horrible sight of seeing literally devoured 
 a heart that had fondly and ardently loved her until 
 it had ceased to throb, she turned away, and went to 
 another camp, sick and almost blinded by the specta- 
 cle." 
 
 On they go, death even too slow for their now 
 ghoulish appetites; and as they reel along, drunk 
 with misfortune and human blood, thej' solace them- 
 selves with thoughts of their next repast. "There is 
 Mrs McCutcheon," says Foster, well-nigh insane, 
 " she's a nuisance, she can't keep up ; let us kill her. 
 There is Mary Graves and Mrs Fosdick ; they have 
 no children, what do you think of them ? " Some 
 oppose, and then the men, so weak that they can 
 scarcely stand, draw their weapons and threaten to 
 fight over it. Next they shoot two tame Indians 
 who had been sent bv Sutter with horses to the relief 
 of the party when it was first told him by Reed that 
 they had lost their cattle in the desert, and before 
 anything was known of their 1. ' "• great distress and 
 starvation. The names of those sacrificed were Lewis 
 and Salvador. So faithful were they to Sutter's in- 
 terests, that a few days before they had refused to 
 abandon the property of their master, even to save 
 their own lives. When Sutter heard of it he was 
 greatly distressed, and turning to the wretches, ex- 
 claimed, "You kill and eat all my good Indians 1" 
 
 '>\ r< 
 
 iSl 
 
102 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND. 
 
 lil 
 
 i!i 
 
 u 
 
 Thus they slowly continued their way down ' the 
 Sierra to the north branch of the American river, 
 when on the 9th of January they came to a rancheria 
 of natives, who were so overcome on beholding the 
 pitiful condition of the strangers that they burst into 
 loud lamentations, the women sobbing in sympathy 
 as they hastily prepared mashed acorns for their re- 
 lief Then these natives sent messenojers on to the 
 next rancheria, that its people might likewise prepare 
 food and welcome for the afflicted travellers ; and so 
 they passed them along from one to another, all that 
 was left of them, until on the l7th of January they 
 reached the house of M. D. Richcy, whose kind- 
 hearted daughter on first beholding Mr. Eddy burst 
 into tears without speaking a word. 
 
 Of the seventeen who set out from Truckee, eight 
 had perished by the way, and all of these were men. 
 Every woman had come through. The news of their 
 suffering, and the condition of those left behind, spread 
 swiftly among the settlers. Couriers were despatched 
 to Sutter's fort, to Sonoma, to Yerba Bucna, and im- 
 mediate preparations were made for the relief of the 
 sutterers. Men eagerly volunteered to go to their 
 assistance, and money was furnished with lavish 
 hands. Even thus early hi her history, as ever after- 
 ward, the heart of California was wide open to tlie 
 cry of distress. Several expeditions at once set out 
 for Mountain camp, as the cabhis near Donncr lake 
 were called. The first was under Reed, who when 
 driven from the camp for man-slaughter had made 
 his way to California, where he was awaiting the ar- 
 rival of the party witli his wife and children, Sutter 
 and John Sinclair sent out a party under Aquilla 
 Glover. Eddy attempted to return with this party, 
 but was obliged from weakness to give it up. Glover 
 made two expeditions, Reed and McCutcheon two, 
 Foster and Eddy one, besides the expeditions of 
 Starks and others, and of Mr Fellan. 
 
 Burying provisions in the snow for tlieir return as 
 
RELIEF EXPEDITIONS. 
 
 103 
 
 they went along, Glover and his party reached Moun- 
 tain camp on the evening of February 19th. On 
 every side the snow presented an apparently unbroken 
 level, and the stillness of death was there. They 
 shouted, and the moaning wind answered like voices 
 from another world. Other and louder shouts were 
 raised. Presently, like vermin from their holes, crept 
 forth from the cabin under the snow human forms, 
 skeletons slowly moved by a cold and aching anima- 
 tion. A dull delirium of joy broke forth in low laughs 
 and sobs and tears. "Have you brought anything 
 for me ? " one after another asked, the narrator goes 
 on to say : "Many of them had a peculiarly wild ex- 
 pression of the eye ; all looked haggard, ghastly, and 
 horrible. The flesh was wasted from their bodies, and 
 the skin seemed to have dried upon their bones. Their 
 voices were weak and sepulchral ; and the whole scene 
 conveyed to the mind the idea of that shout having 
 reached another world, awakenhig the dead from un- 
 der the snows. Fourteen of their number, principally 
 men, had already died from starvation, and many 
 more were so reduced that it was almost certain they 
 would never rise from the miserable beds upon which 
 tliey had lain down." The unhappy survivors were, in 
 short, in a condition the most deplorable, and beyond 
 the power of language to describe, or of the imagination 
 to conceive. The annals of human suffering nowhere 
 present a more ap})alling spectacle than that which 
 blasted the eyes and sickened the hearts of those brave 
 men whose indomitable courage and perseverance in 
 the face of so many dangers, hardships, ai)d privations, 
 snatched some of these miserable survivors from the 
 jaws of death, and who, for having done so much, 
 merit the lasting gratitude and respect of every man 
 who has a heart to feel for human woe, or a hand to 
 afford relief 
 
 " Many of the sufferers had been living for weeks 
 upon bullock hides ; and even this sort of food was so 
 nearly exhausted with some, that they were about to 
 
104 
 
 THE JOUENEY OVERLAND. 
 
 dig up from the snow the bodies of their companions 
 t)r the purpose of prolonghi|^ their wretched Hves. 
 Mrs. Reed, who lived in Breen's cabin, had, during 
 a considerable time, supported herself and four chil- 
 dren by cracking and boiling again the bones from 
 which Breen's family had carefully scraped all the 
 flesh. 
 
 Some of the emigrants had been making prepara- 
 tions for death, and at morning and evening the in- 
 cense of.prayer and thanksgiving ascended from their 
 cheerless and comfortless dwellings. Others there 
 were who thought they might as well curse God as 
 bless him for bringing them to such a pass ; and so they 
 did ; and they cursed the snow, and the mountains, 
 and in the wildest frenzy deplored their miserable 
 fate. Some poured bitter imprecations upon the world, 
 and everything and everybody in it ; and all united in 
 common fears of a common and inevitable death. 
 Many of them had, in a great measure, lost all self- 
 respect. Untold sufferhigs had broken their spirits, 
 and prostrated evi^rything like a commendable pride. 
 Misfortune had dried up the fountains of the heart; 
 and the dead, whom their weakness made it impossi- 
 ble to carry out, were dragged from their cabins by 
 means of ropes, with an apathy that afforded a faint 
 indication of the extent of the change which a few 
 weeks of dire suffering had produced in hearts that 
 once sympathized with the dis^-ressed and mourned 
 the departed. With many of them, all principle, too, 
 had been swept away by this tr jmendous torrent of 
 accumulated woes. It became necessary to place a 
 guard over the little store of provisions brought to 
 their relief; and they stole and devoured the raw-hide 
 strings from the snow-shoes of those who had come 
 to deliver them. Upon going down into the cabins 
 of this Mountain camp, to the party were presented 
 sights of misery and scenes of horror, the full tale of 
 which will never be told, and never ought to be ; sights 
 which, although the emigrants had not yet commenced 
 
 eatin 
 C(»nii| 
 
 Wv»ul| 
 
 was 
 
 to go 
 
 
HORRIBLE SCENES. 
 
 lOS 
 
 eating the dead, were so revolting that tliey were 
 compelled to withdraw and make a fire where they 
 would not be under the necessity of looking upon the 
 painful spectacle." Some were already too far gone 
 to eat; others died from over-eating. 
 
 Glover could take out part of the sufferers only. 
 One of the Donner brothers was so reduced that it 
 was found impossible to remove him. His wife, who 
 was comparatively well, when besought by her hus- 
 band to accompany the party, firmly refused ; and 
 there she remained through horrible lingerings, and 
 died with her husband, a noble example of conjugal 
 fidehty. It was with the utmost difficulty that any 
 of these unfortunates were conve3'^ed over the snow, 
 and to add to their misery, Mr. Glover, when in the 
 extremest necessity, found his buried provisions de- 
 stroyed by cougars. One of their number, John 
 Denton, when ho could proceed no farther, told them 
 to go on and leave him, which was done after building 
 him a fire and leaving him nearly all their food; and 
 there he died. 
 
 On the 25th of February, they encountered Reed 
 and his party going in, the meeting between whom 
 and his wife was most affecting. Reed continued his 
 way, as his two children were yet at Mountain camp. 
 He found the survivors in a yet more pitiful plight 
 than when Glover first saw them. After performing 
 several acts of humanity, the relief party "had now, 
 for the first time a little leisure to observe. The 
 mutilated body of a friend, having nearly all the flesh 
 torn away, was seen at the door, the head and face 
 remaining entire. Half consumed limbs were seen 
 concealed in trunks. Bones were scattered about. 
 Human hair of different colors was seen in tufts about 
 the fire-place. The sight was overwhelming, and 
 outraged nature sought relief by one spontaneous out- 
 cry of agony, and grief, and tears. The air was rent 
 by the wails of sorrow and distress that ascended at 
 once, and as if by previous concert, from that charnel- 
 
 1 in 
 
106 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND, 
 
 house of death beneath tlie snow." There were chil- 
 dren wallowing in their filth, and moaning for food, 
 that had so lain, undisturbed, for fourteen days. 
 
 Jacob Doniier was dead. Baptiste had just left the 
 camp of the widow with the leg and thigh of the dead 
 nwm, '* for which ho had been sent by George Donner, 
 the brother of the deceased. That was given, but the 
 boy was informed that no more could be given, Jacob 
 Donner's body being the last they had. They had 
 consumed four bodies, and the children were sitting 
 ujjon a log, with their faces stained with blood, de- 
 vouring the half-roasted liver and heart of the father, 
 unconscious of the ai>proach of the men, of whom they 
 took not the slightest notice even after they had come 
 up. Mrs Jacob Donner was in a helpless condition, 
 without anything whatever to eat except the body of 
 her husband, and she declared she would die before 
 she would eat of this. Around the fire were hair, 
 bon(!S, skulls, and the fragments of half-consumed 
 limbs." 
 
 The relief party under Foster and Eddy was the 
 next to enter. Eddv found his wife and children all 
 dead. "Patrick Breen and his wife seemed not in 
 any degree to realize the extent of their peril, or that 
 they were in peril at all. They were found lying 
 down, sunning themselves, and evincing no concern 
 for the future. They had consumed the two children 
 of Jacob Donner." The wickedest man of all was 
 Kiesburg, the same who so cruelly thrust the old man 
 from his wagon. While there were yet hides enough 
 to sustain life, and a dead bullock uncovered by the 
 iiielting snow on which the others lived, he took to 
 bed with him one night Foster's little four-year-old 
 boy, and devoured him before mornhig. "What adds, 
 if possible, to the horrors of this horrible meal is the 
 fact that the child was alive when it was taken to 
 bed, leading to the suspicion that he strangled it, al- 
 though he denies this charge. This man also devoured 
 Mr Eddy's child before noon the next day, and was 
 
THE WICKEDEST MAN. 
 
 107 
 
 among the first to coninmnicate the fact to hnn. When 
 asked by the outraged father why lie did not eat the 
 hides and bullock, he coolly replied that he preferred 
 human flesh as being more palatable and containing 
 more nutriment." 
 
 Fellen and his party, the last to visit the place for 
 purposes of relief, did not reach the camp until the 
 17th of April. As narrated by Bryant, they found 
 Kiesburg " reclining on the floor of the cabin, smoking 
 his pipe. Near his head a fire was blazing, upon 
 which was a camp-kettle filled with human flesh. His 
 feet were resting upon skulls and dislocated limbs de- 
 nuded of their flesh. A bucket partly filled with 
 blood was near, and pieces of human flesh, fresh and 
 bloody, were strewn around. Tlie appearance of 
 Kiesburg was haggard and revolting. His beard was 
 of great length; his finger-nails had grown out until 
 tliev resembled the claws of beasts. He was ra^yjcd 
 and filthy, and the expression of his countenance was 
 ferocious. He stated that the Donners were both 
 dead." 
 
 Accused of havinu' murdered Mrs Donner for her 
 money, he denied it, until Fellen put a rope round 
 1.1s neck and threatened to hang him, when he pro- 
 duced some of the valuables of the Donners, and five 
 hundred dollars in money. Fellen, in his journal, 
 under date of April 20th, says of Kiesburg, the last 
 of the emigrants to leave this place of abomination, 
 "they hurried him away, but before leaving he gath- 
 ered together the bones, and heaped them all in a 
 box he used for the purpose, blessed them and the 
 cal)in, and said, 'I hope God will forgive me for what 
 I have done ; I couldn't help it, and I hope I may get 
 to heaven yet. We asked Kiesburg why he did not 
 use the meat of the bullock and horse instead of hu- 
 man flesh. He replied he had not seen them. We 
 till n told him we knew better, and asked him why 
 tlie meat in the chair had not been consumed. He 
 said, ' O, its too drv eatuig ; the liver and lights are 
 
 1 ' r in} 
 
 ',■■>!. \ 
 
 ^'ly 
 
108 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND. 
 
 I 
 
 a f^rcat deal bottor, and the brains make good soup." 
 Wlicii accused of the murder of Mrs Donner, he said 
 tliat Mrs Donner, in attempting to cross from one 
 cabin to amither, had "missed tiie trail, and slept out 
 one night; that she came to liis camp the next night 
 very much fatigued ; he made her a cup of coffee, 
 
 E laced her in bed, and rolled her well in the blankets, 
 ut the next morning found her dead. He ate her 
 body, and f«)und lier flesh the best he had ever tasted. 
 He further stated that he obtained from her body at 
 least four pounds of fat." 
 
 A.t the close of a general summary of the affair, 
 the Califonua Star of the 10th of April 1847, says: 
 "After the first few deaths, but the one all-absorbinLC 
 thought of individual self-preservation prevailed. 
 The fountains of natural affection were all dried up. 
 The chords that once vibrated with connubial, parental, 
 and filial affection were rent asunder, and each seemed 
 resolved, without regard to the fate of others, to es- 
 cape the impending calamity. Even the wild hostile 
 mountain Indians, who once visited their camps, pitied 
 them ; and instead of pursuing the natural impulse of 
 their hostile feeling to the whites and destroying them 
 as they could easily have done, divided their own 
 scanty supply of food with them. So changed had 
 the emigrants become, that when the party sent out 
 arrived with food, some of them cast it aside, and 
 seemed to prefer the putrid human flesh that still 
 remained." 
 
 On his return to the east. General Kearney passed 
 by the scene of these tragical occurrences, and halted 
 there on the 22d of June, 1847. He ordt -ed the re- 
 mains collected and buried in one of the c? ins; some 
 of the bodies presented a mummy-like i nearance, 
 the flesh having remahied undecayed in ti ^ dry at- 
 mosphere. Fire was then set to the cabin, a :1 so was 
 consumed as far as possible every trace of t e melan- 
 choly occurrence. Of the eighty persons jriginally 
 composing the party, thirty-six perished, of whom 
 
IMMIORATION OP 1840. 
 
 109 
 
 but eight were females, while twenty-four females and 
 twenty males survived. 
 
 Revolting as are these revelations, the half has 
 not been told. Of the dark deeds committed In this 
 sepulchral Sierra, under cover of night, or in the 
 light of day made blacker than blackest night by the 
 darkness of the deed, comparatively few have ever 
 been told. But entmgh has been told to show us 
 what men will do when forced by necessity. These 
 Donners were cultivated, wealthy peo|)le; they be- 
 haved better in some respects than the others, and 
 yet they did not wholly forbear to eat of each other. 
 
 During the immigration of 1849, and before that 
 time, there wore many parties who underwent much 
 suffering; some similar to those experienced by the 
 Donner party, yet there was no instance which as a 
 whole equalled those horrors in magnitude and inten- 
 sity. Toward this western shore had set the world's 
 tide of human life and human passion. So great was 
 the movement of 1849 that I might say there was 
 almost a continuous line of wagons from the Missouri 
 river to the Sierra Nevada, an almost unbroken line 
 of light from the camp-fires at night ; hence it was 
 safe enough for single wagons, or horsemen, or foot 
 passengers even, to join the throng. And many of 
 these individual adventurers there were. But man 
 likes company, especially when there is toil and un- 
 certainty before him; and so at the east overland 
 societies were organized and officered bound for the 
 mines, the object being that by a conmmnity of labor 
 or capital mutual comfort and safety might be in- 
 creased. 
 
 The idea of association was to divide the /enturo, 
 or to unite the benefits of money and labor, or for 
 mutual aid, or protection, or to assure attention in 
 case of sickness, or for all these combined. One 
 desires to go to California who has not the means, 
 so he drives across the plains the team of ciie who 
 
110 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND. 
 
 requires a driver. Hundreds of associations were 
 formed on various plans, some to go out by water and 
 some by land. Usually they were composed of from 
 ten to fifty persons, though I have known companies c f 
 100, and one of 150 men. Each member contributed 
 so much capital either in money or its equivalent, 
 which was expended before starting in provisions, 
 clothing, utensils, medicines, or whatever in the 
 opinions of the officers would yield the largest profit, 
 or tend most to the amelioration of the condition of 
 the members. In Augusta, Maine, a society was 
 formed of thirty persons, each contributhig $500, 
 which capital was cmploj^cd in the purchase of a 
 ship of 200 tons, and freighting it with wooden 
 houses, machines for washing and separating gold, a 
 mill, and merchandise, of which portion was to be 
 sold in San Francisco, and part to be used by the 
 members of the association in mining and milling 
 operations of their own. Another similar copartner- 
 ship was organized at Utica, New York, with a capi- 
 tal of $30,000; and many others. The ships were 
 to be sold or abandoned at San Francisco, and seamen 
 eagerly shipped to be discharged there. 
 
 But these associations were mostly failures. They 
 were too cumbersome, the men too inexi)erienced, too 
 little acquainted with the country and with what 
 they proposed to do, knowing neither each other nor 
 themselves. The ineffiv'ient members cramped the 
 energies of those who might succeed alone ; cumber- 
 some associations cannot move with the promptness and 
 celerity of hidividuals ; they are unable to act indi- 
 vidually, to seize occasions, and the best men belong- 
 ing to them are usually most rejoiced to be free 
 from them. 
 
 Codes were sometimes adopted and by-laws signed ; 
 but from inexperience, and the festerings arising from 
 new and strange abrasures, c. verland parties frequently 
 broke into helter-skelter scrambles before the jour- 
 ney was half completed. Frequently the means 
 
THEORY AND PRACTTCE OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 Ill 
 
 hat 
 nor 
 the 
 )(r- 
 laiul 
 ^idi- 
 mg- 
 Ifice 
 
 ioa ; 
 roin 
 
 hly 
 
 )ur- 
 bans 
 
 necessary for the journey, either by land or water, 
 would be furnished by i»ne in consideration of a prom- 
 ise from the other to perform a certain amount (f 
 labor, or to divide the profits. But so entirely then 
 was California beyond the reach of law, or even light, 
 or restraint, that a man must be impregnated with 
 honesty and conscience in a remarkable degree long to 
 be mindful of obligations entered into with those who 
 are never to know if he keeps them. 
 
 No sooner was a family, tor instance, fairly started 
 overland, than the master was as much m the hands 
 of the man as the man was in those of the master , 
 and often an emigrant was obliged to submit to insult 
 and wrong heaped upon him by some base-minded 
 churl to whom he was doing charity All the em- 
 ployer could do in such cases was to turn the man 
 adrift, but this was impracticable in the middle of tl.o 
 plains with teams and stock to be attended to. 
 Moreover, such action might be exactly what the 
 fellow would like, as he could then make his way f )r- 
 ward untrammeled, with what his employer would feel 
 obliged to give him, or he could join some other 
 band. 
 
 Often when ready to start, the most absurd rumors 
 were rife. Some would say that the Mormons, ready 
 to kill or convert the emigrants, waited and watched 
 for them at the rivers ; in romantic re^jions savi.,i;es 
 lurked, if so be they should escape the avt'nging 
 saints; while still farther west, the emissaries of per- 
 fidious fur-companies had penetrated to brilu' with 
 rum or blankets the unso})histicated red man, and 
 stir him up against intruders upon the game-tilled 
 park that (k,d had given him. 
 
 Full of fanciful theories, until experience beat prac- 
 tical common-sense into them, some of the d(»lngs of 
 the emigrants were most childish. One conipany a 
 few davs after starting was struck with a freak of 
 law-making; and immediately after attempting to put 
 in practice the new regulations, as was often liie case, 
 
 ii 
 
 I ir 
 
112 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND. 
 
 I'^ 
 
 11' 
 
 it all fell in pieces. It appears that an edict had 
 gone forth against dogs ; all must die or leave the 
 train. The enraged owners of valuable canines 
 rushed to arms, and prepared to mingle the blood of 
 the slayers with that of the slain. The result was 
 the amendment of the decree and a reelection of 
 officers. 
 
 The ordinary migration was something as follows : 
 From the various points of departure along the then 
 so-called western frontier, companies, families, and in- 
 dividuals set out on foot, on horseback, on mules, in 
 covered wagons — prairie clippers or schooners some 
 called them — drawn by long files of cattle, and filled 
 with flour, bacon, beans, sugar, coffee, tobacco, 
 whisky, cooking and household utensils, and other 
 useful and useless articles, many of which were soon 
 to be thrown away to lighten the load. Extra draft 
 and riding animals to be used as relays, and to take 
 the places of the exhausted, lost, or stolen ; and some- 
 times cows and sheep, were driven, beside or behind the 
 wagon. As the animals thinned in immber, oxen 
 and mules, or horses and cows, might be seen yoked 
 together, and horseless cavaliers, thankful of any re- 
 lief for their blistered feet, did not disdain to mount 
 horned cattle. In the wagons were women, children, 
 and sick persons, though often these were obliged to 
 walk to save the strength of the fainting animals. 
 At the belt of many were carried a large knife, and 
 one or more revolvers ; slung to the back a rifle, and 
 from the saddle-horn a lasso hung ready for inmio- 
 diate use. Taking with them their wives and 
 children these gold-worshippers left behind — not 
 starvation and anarchy, but peaceful, happy homes, 
 good governuient and plenty, abasing their work-worn 
 women, and exposing their nurselings to burning plains 
 and icy mountains, dooming them to disease, perhaps 
 death. Love of adventure prompted some, love of 
 
 1 
 
 We 
 crii 
 
 tho 
 
 hy 
 
 thrd 
 the 
 dow 
 mon 
 ha hi 
 and 
 out c 
 turke 
 some 
 and i 
 quarr 
 secure 
 antelo 
 beasts 
 womer 
 someti] 
 and h< 
 buried 
 it woul 
 nually ! 
 To c 
 tically i 
 reached 
 was not 
 of overii 
 Missour 
 from the 
 or if for 
 taken — t 
 within si 
 dotted th 
 old pion< 
 that. A 
 glowing 8 
 
 Cai 
 
health most „f tu ' 
 
 crime not a few *^"' ""d We of lawlessness and 
 
 «'ougl "KteSr ""'■?'""* 2,000 miles 
 
 aown into the garden of P„lf ■ ™ Nevada, and 
 months the em,|™„Ts Vte ^''f°™>^ , J'"'" weeks a"d 
 haWion; eve.! the h!^^s ofSt"^''* °^ ""^ human 
 «ncl then swept down uZ ti°„ ''^ "^^^S^^ that now 
 out of view. On reachL i ' """"^ "ninown and 
 turkeys, and an ocSoiaf ttT"'' "^''""^ e'k, wM 
 «om« would pursue, but wff't' ^ ■"^^""• ^^'"ich 
 and then a wiser hunter whV. f?''ept,on of now 
 quarry their incipient 1,1? • T,""''' "'"''o » noble 
 secured little food. :^fr''\ of fire-arms 
 
 ante ope with the g^ w„lf oo "5"'° ""'' 'catteril 
 b^stsof prey, witlfno^&Zf >/^^'"' ^"'^ ««>ef 
 women, were the ^nlo ^* of savage men nn^ 
 
 -metimes sterS: Region ''T'^ "^ ""s^^lf :„"^ 
 and here and ther?ve„e.i '"**J7'''» was water 
 .buried the traveller t [^«'^'^''on. Sometimes s^'l 
 
 " would be too pooi even .'VTy '■»'<'«. andaS 
 "ually swept over it " '" ^""^ *he fires thatC 
 
 tieaHyl^^Sble^rir ^""''^ -'"*- was prac 
 ^^oaehed tfe eas too Ute^Z'S' "^*'^« 8°'^ dfsco^v: t 
 was not until abont t • , .?''e summer of ISJB X 
 
 mS"^ emt:Ut%:;5'-/^;^84» thJt'h^elide' 
 iVlissouri, was one of the oh; T "' ^"^^pendence 
 from the northern states and S P"'"*" "^ ^^P^^uTe 
 or if for southern California f J ^^S'^"^^"*« ^^^ goal 
 taken-that old trai nev^l f' ^^"*^ ^^ traiJ^was 
 yithm shot of the bartn W-'^,^"-^^ ^^^nee passhu' 
 jotted the horizon or fitd ^Vj ra'" '''''. -casCaH^ 
 old pioneers who had Jaid 1 7T'' ^^^ *h« wary 
 *^at-. At this time 30 oon 7*""* ^"^^ better thZ 
 glowing ardor, anTfrom h, S' '/^ ^ ^^'^'^-h in its 
 CA.. i«x. Poc. 8 """^ '^^/ndividual history, might 
 
 F) 
 
lU 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND. 
 
 tell a tale more thrilling and more fascinating than 
 any of ancient pilgrimage, trailed over plains and rug- 
 ged hills of desolation, often with a miserable road, 
 or with no road at all ; and exposed to tornadoes fierce 
 enough to demolish a caravan, followed by ravenous 
 wolves and croaking ravens, harrassed by savages, 
 keeping watch by night, and sweating and swearing 
 by day ; suffering from scurvy and fever engendered 
 by salt unwholesome food, and from cholera brought 
 up the river from NeV Orleans, and wliich clung to 
 them until dissipated by the sharp air of the elevated 
 regions 500 miles distant Over the boundless prairies 
 they straggled, up in to the rarified air that stifled men 
 and beasts, down into waterless, sandy sinks ; across 
 sage brush plains efflorescent with alkali, over salty- 
 white flats caked hard as st(me, through blinding dust, 
 and into heaps of sand-like drifted ashy earth where 
 the animals sank to their bellies ; resting by cooling 
 springs, or thirsting beside fetid and acrid waters; 
 windinjr along the banks of slug'>ish water-courses, 
 fording brackisli brooks, swinnning ice-cold rivers, ex- 
 posed now to the unbroken rays of a withering sun, 
 and now to chilliing hail-storms, hurricanes, and suffo- 
 cating sand-blasts; sometimes miring in mud, sonus 
 times clioked in impa][)able dust which saturated hair 
 and clothes, filled eyes and nostrils, and made these 
 emigrant trains look like caravans emerijiny: from an 
 ash storm on the })lains of Sodom. 
 
 But what were these temporal miseries beside the 
 eternal reward that awaited them beyond the Sierra, 
 which, from its eastern slope, so giimly frowned on 
 those who came so far to tamper with its treasures? 
 Blessed faith 1 though material and transient in its 
 promised joys, it was none the less innnortal What 
 thougli credence be but a fata mon/ana, happiness a 
 phantom, and flattering hope be fed by night on dreams 
 and by day on mirage ; what though imaginary shapes 
 take on reality, and thought spends itself in midnight 
 apparitions and fantastic aerial visi(His, faith and hope 
 
 ermjt: 
 
 o 
 
MIRAGE. 
 
 115 
 
 and happiness are none the less real, none tlie less 
 eternal By clay and by night, waking or sleeping, 
 gorgeous pictures toward the west were spread out 
 before these pilgrims — by day, phantasmagoria, aerial 
 plays of fancy as manifested in these terraqueous 
 metamorphoses due to variations from ordinary refrac- 
 tions of luminous ra^-s hi their passage through atmos- 
 pheric strata of ditl'erent densities, thus pluraliziiig 
 reflections, bnnging objects nearer, trans})orting them 
 to a distance, lifting them up from below tlje horizon, 
 investing and deforming them — by niglit, pictures of 
 tlie past and the future, the unwelcome })resent foi' 
 the moment wrapped hi oblivion; pictures of lionte, of 
 opulence, of merry-makings, and heart-gladdenings. 
 
 Here, high above the ocean, between the two great 
 uplifted ranges, wliere hills and desert flats rise well 
 nigh into the clouds, is the native land of the mirage, 
 distinct in its unreality, magnificent, ihougli built of 
 air and sand. Now it is a hmely valley, bearing in 
 its bosom a glassy lake, girdled witli waving groves 
 and parted by rushing streams; and now tlie gilded 
 spires of a mighty city pierce the dull, desiccated 
 heavens, massive masonry pillars the firmament, while 
 long drawn shadows cross and re-cross the marble 
 domes and crenelled turrets of atliousand palaces eni- 
 bahned in pleasant gardens like a Babylon, or gleam- 
 ing from settings of silver as wliere tlie lion of Saint 
 ]\lark keeps guard over the bride of the Adriatic; at 
 times, again, their own images would loom out (Us- 
 torted hi figure or position, like the gliostof Brocktn, 
 through the ghiomy sultry air paljiable with sand. 
 As when, bk^ar-eyed from long contentions witli tlu) 
 sand and sun, exhausted by toilsome travel and faint- 
 ing with thirst, Fancy strips the eartli of its jiallid cov- 
 ering and fills the rent with the vaulted firmament, 
 sets up images motionless in the air and sends aerial 
 animals of divers sorts in hot chase one after another, 
 inundates sandy plains by the beating of the upahoot- 
 ing sua upon the surface, and places before them 
 
116 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND, 
 
 
 
 transparent pools and isle-dotted lakes, reflecting cool 
 groves and grassy resting places, only to be borne oft' 
 by the wind, and cruelly snatched from their grasp on 
 nearer approach ; so to the ardent longings of their 
 inflamed brains, fickle fortune, incarnated, becomes a 
 true prophetess, and beckons them on with pleasing 
 illusions to their destruction. Alasl that it should 
 be so ; that fortune, fame, and happiness, and life itsclf, 
 should be so like the mirage to which these foot-sore 
 desert- walkers so often anchored their hopes ! 
 
 At the beginning of the journey, witli fresh cattle, 
 a })lentiful store of food, and a road that lay through 
 grassy prairies and well-watered valleys, with bright, 
 cheerful warmth by day and restoring sleep at night, 
 each dropping into place, and all attending to their 
 several duties, driving their teams, seeking water, 
 preparing resting-places for the night, unyoking oxen, 
 picketing horses, unpacking the wagons, pitching tents, 
 gathering wood and cooking the supper, mending 
 broken wagons, telling stories by the camp-fires, 
 watching their grazing cattle, or scouring the adjacent 
 plain for the strayed or such as had been stolen, 
 chasing buffalo, shouting antelope, parleying with the 
 natives — in the first flush of sanguine hope, with ex- 
 pectation bright before them, this sort of life was not 
 so bad. When a caravan camped at night, the men 
 made a circle of their wagons, at once a bulwaik and 
 a corral for their cattle. About this they pitched 
 their tents, and surrounded all with a guard of blazing 
 camp-fires, which threw their glare far into the sur- 
 rounding darkness, and illuminated the groups that 
 cooked or smoked or slept beside them. Golden- 
 winged Eros sometimes dropped in among them, flut- 
 tered about the wagons, and a clergyman or squire 
 must be hunted up among the trains to terminate his 
 sad doings by a marriage. Once in a while they killed 
 a buffalo and then they munched and munched, till 
 marrov -nd fat, and fullness made their worn, wan 
 faces tc bine in the red fire-light like the satyrs. 
 
 bon£ 
 
I-;VND xMARKS. 
 
 117 
 
 a>'<l a.Chimney rock at nnl *f "'" *'"• ^''"^''•tl tuttes 
 nant „f an ancient biuffbT^f" '""■"'■»™t and rlm- 
 by the winds and vT' e "P"" "'"i won, awZ 
 ^ face of hoavcTtl:. S^fi' ''""? """ ^ 
 warning, as you cl.oosc f,f'. ■"'S^'' »f 'i"!'" <>r 
 spread for „,ifestl,ersnLl.^ *l"'' "• ^-ott blurt^ 
 Krand as the hills o Sw a,? ur^-""'' *""'elif^ 
 "»«.'.;• one, through the Z "* *''" S^antcitics; l.ut 
 tomb „ foe, heralcQ by ^SyTf *'"^'''' '^-'"''=rin". 
 «■•«, girdles their rauimrts ami fl "'"",'""' l»"ar of 
 IS heard ajrain throu..rtl ? ' 'f "''a^l' "fa Jericli,, 
 an J the roar of tfe^ ea^!,!™"''^'^ "^ "'« ta» - 
 grass becomes scarcelT^br^ '."'''■'"'™''- '^^^<'- tiTe' 
 '» "'any places is all c«,sumed f ?"* ^'^^ ""• and 
 '1- routes must be sonTf ', '"' ""^ and u„ r„,| 
 '^"■/"od, and wo„,cn S ' if!"' '""'•' K'in to fll,t 
 »'"' »'en, ill-fed l"l l^t'^t?^'" ^"^^'^ an,| die 
 
 fi;-'" daylight till dark'^dex^,^' h*'","^ *''" ""'WlJ 
 "flioat and cold, be,;i„f'JT'',*;t'''''-'"'ato blasts 
 
 'ftonedof thoir'lai"'"rt,nnld ^V"^ ""'^' l'« 
 P=wr dumb brutes thus slmwiT^^' ^^'^^amvliile the 
 
 'xvners- gree<l, gasph', ajlC"'-iT'"''="' '"«'«i^ 
 ppon-mouthcd, with Inillt J"^<"'«We to the .r„ad 
 ja-s and dull sunken "^ d""*-'""- ""'' ^'^^' 
 t venty miles a da,-, or wfth if? "'""=' "'^r two „? 
 
 *. an' ,rr:' tS*:^ -r^. n.- reaso,,. 
 Mows, mai,3. • '•them and m'iiiH -'7 <'"'' l"""- 
 the carcasses oi their boal Tn li"""" """""^ wi"' 
 'allw of the MississiimTt ,'^" V'" "'V"'"' the 
 tracks were marked by reirf "'''"'• '"»»• t-.rtuo s 
 t;^.ts, east-offclothi„/s 1 nrn • •™«°"'' d«'""lisho< 
 
 ^--^therottiug'^i~ftfe-ffl 
 
118 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND 
 
 witli the 111 covered <;ravcsof incn and women, u^hastly 
 Bkeletotis of jrolden hopes. Some were ovcrtak(!n hy 
 the snow, and losing their way, perished ; some wero 
 sliot hv savaojcs; some fell bv disease. In thcwords 
 of a pilgrim, "the last part of the emigration resembled 
 the rout of an ami}-, with it.s distressed multitudes of 
 helpless sufferers, rather than the voluntary movement 
 of a free people." On reaching the Truckee, their 
 weary spirits grew buoyant again; for now the trail 
 w\as <jfood, water and <;rass abunlant, and the first tall 
 trees which thcv had seen for elLjht hundred miles, 
 appear. So on the survivors come, sometimes worn 
 out bv famine and fatigue, over sterile hills and scorch- 
 ing Saharas, through the valleys of death and from 
 tlie plains of desolati(m, heedless if not heartless, up 
 by the pathway through the cloven granite, through 
 the mountain pass, then zig-zag down the steep slopes, 
 and beneath the shadowy pines of the Sierra, empty- 
 ing all that is left of them and their belongings into 
 the valley of the Sacramento, or into the garden of 
 Los Angeles, ready after their toilsome march to reap 
 and riot with the best of them. 
 
 Fortunate indeed are they if their last flour be not 
 cooked, and the last morsel of rancid bacon be not de- 
 voured, before reaching their journey's end. Once 
 among the settlers, however, and they are sure of the 
 meansof appeasing their hunger; for there yet remains 
 something of that substantial hospitality which the 
 jioorest western emigrant would tliink it shame to re- 
 fuse another. 
 
 Now they may revel in the realms of golden dreainr,. 
 Here, indeed, is the promised land; and these dirt- 
 colored, skin-cracked, blinded, and footsore travellers, 
 whose stomach linings are worn and wasted from car- 
 rying foul food and fetid water — let them enjoy it. 
 Stripping off their ragged and gritty clothes, tlie 
 newly-arrived may bathe in the inviting streams, 
 drinking in the cool, refreshing water at every pore ; 
 they may put on fresh apparel, and fill themselves 
 
THE LAND OF CANAAN. 
 
 lid 
 
 with good bread and beef; tlion mounting their liorses, 
 they may wade them through tracts of wihl oats that 
 top both horse and rider, and they may tread down 
 t]»e yeUow bloom of countless autunmal Howcrs. Tliey 
 may see licrds of antelopes passing along the plain 
 like wind-wave'S over the grass, and droves of wild 
 horses tossintj their heads in the air as their broad 
 nostrils catch the taint of the intruders, and great, 
 aiitlered elk, some as big as Mexican nmles, grazing 
 about the groves and under the scattered trees. Now 
 they may rest, and now the more fortunate may hope 
 to enjoy the luxury of house, and bed with clean 
 slieets and soft pillows. Yet at first, to him who has 
 long slept in the open air, these are no luxuries. Often 
 tliose accustomed to every comfort at Jiome, neat and 
 fastidious in all their tastes, on resuming their former 
 mode of living after sleeping a few months in the open 
 air, have been obliged to leave a comfortable bed and 
 spread their blankets under the trees if they would 
 have sleep. The house and its trappings stifle them. 
 So hates the savaije civilization. 
 
 The relative dangers of the overland and ocean 
 journeys have sometimes been discussed. I should 
 sav that hi dansjfor, and in the romance which dan<j:cr 
 brings, the journey across the plains eclipsed the 
 steamer voyage, in which there was more vexation of 
 spirit than actual peril. Even the long and stormy 
 passage of Cape Horn had fewer terrors than the? be- 
 lated passage of the snowy Sierra. The traveller 
 wlio takes ship for a far-off' laud incurs risk, it is true ; 
 but if he reaches his destination at all, it is without 
 effort on his part. He throws himself upon the 
 mercy of the elements, and once having done this he 
 can do no more. But there is much that is strength- 
 eniuix, ennoblinti:, in the battlinos and uncertainties of 
 overland travel. I have, indeed, often thought that 
 man is never more ingloriously placed, that his petti- 
 ness and feebleness are never more ignobly patent. 
 
120 
 
 THE JOURNEY OVERLAND. 
 
 I! 
 
 than when he is brought face to face with nature 
 upon the ocean. See him as he scans the horizon 
 with anxious and fearful eye, watching for an enemy 
 which he knows is his master; mark him, when that 
 enemy appears, cringing and shrinking from tlie shock 
 of battle, his ship tossing helplessly with folded and 
 bedraggled wings, as if seeking to become so small 
 and insignificant that the storm will sweep over her 
 bowed head in contemptuous pity. 
 
 But what a different aspect man presents wlien 
 braving and contending with perils such as those to 
 which our overland immigrants were exposed. They 
 were not so much at the mercy of capricious elements, 
 to drive them hundreds of miles out of their course 
 or retard their journey for months. Upon their own 
 strength, courage, and endurance they relied. Havhig 
 determined their route they set their faces westward, and 
 westward by that route they went until their goal was 
 reached, opposing force with force, meeting danger, 
 difficulty, and hardship, without flinching, conquering 
 every foot of the way by their own indomitable will. 
 
 Yet, alas ! many here fell by the way, as we have 
 seen. 
 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA— NEW YORK TO CHAORES. 
 
 Some 8ct out, liko crusaders of old, with a glorious equipment of lio]ie 
 anil ciitliUMiasiii, and gut broken l>y the way, wanting iiaticnctt witli each 
 other and the world. — Georije E'uot, 
 
 EvEUYBODY is supposcd to Iciiow, tliougli cvcrybotly 
 does not know, that Phryxos fled from the wratli of 
 his father AthaniJis, kin»( of Orchoinenus, in BoDotia, 
 riding througli the air to Colchis upon the rain with 
 tlie golden Hoece, which was the gift of Hermes. 
 The ram was then sacrificed to Zeus, and the fleece 
 given to King -^]tes, who hung it uj)on a sacred oak 
 ill the grove of Ares, where it was guardctl night and 
 day by an ever-watchful dragon. Polias, king of 
 lolcos, in Thcssaly, sent Jason his half brother s son, 
 wlio claimed the sovereignty, with the chief heroes 
 of Greece, in the ship Argo to fetch the golden fleece. 
 Jason obtained the fleece, though Pelias had hoped 
 ho should have been destrovcd. Of the Arsjonauts 
 there were fifty in number, and among them Hercules, 
 and the singer Orpheus, Castor and Pollux, Zetes and 
 Calais, Mopus, Theseus, and others, the stories con- 
 cerning whoso enterprise, it is thought, grew out of 
 the commercial expeditions of the Munvans to the 
 coasts of the Euxiiie. Ulysses, returning from the 
 scige of Troy, made a ten year's voyage, being driven 
 about by tempests, during which time he underwent 
 many strange adventures. Other Mediterranean 
 mythological voyages there were, and hypothetical 
 navigations to the near shores and islands of the 
 Atlantic and Indian oceans; follownig which were 
 
 { 121 ) 
 
 
122 
 
 THE VOYAOE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 tlu! voya«2^('H of tlie Sraiulinaviurs, tlioso i\crco Nofae- 
 iiK'ii tliat wcro the terror of all the maritime nations 
 of nortlurn Europe, and tlie first kn«)\vn tliscoverors 
 of Amt rica. Then there were tlie vovai^eH of tlie 
 l\)rtiiL;uese round Africa, and of the Spaniards to 
 America; tliere wi^re the ])ut('li vova<jfes foreoiujiust, 
 and tlie Enuflish vovaytes of eireunniavisjration ; tjiero 
 were vovai;es of discovery, commercial vovanes, V()V- 
 ages for purposes of war, science, and reliujion, for 
 pleasure, proHt, and prosclytin|j;, hut never since the 
 sea was made has there hcen seen such vova<;inij: as 
 the trip to California during the flush times. And 
 never shall the sea behold such sights again ; nevt r 
 shall tempest sport such tangled human freight, nor 
 the soft tropical wind whi.sper of such confused and 
 desultory cargoes as those which swept the main in 
 shijis from every point in search of the new golden 
 fleece. 
 
 As compared with contemporaneous trans- Atlantic 
 navigation, the voyage from New York to San Fran- 
 cisco by way of the Istlnnus presents entirely distinct 
 features. It was an episode individual and peculiar ; 
 a part, and no small part, of the great uprising and 
 exodus of the nations; it was the grand pathway of 
 pilgrims from all parts of the eastern world ; it was 
 brimfuU of romance and comedy, of unnumbered 
 woes and tragedy, enlivened now and then by a dis- 
 aster which sent a thrill throughout the civilized 
 world. It was a briny, boisterous idyl, where courage 
 bore along slippery passage-ways, and love hjunged 
 U]H)n canopied decks, and sentiment in thin nmslin 
 cooed in close cabins, and vice and virtue went hanrl 
 in liand as friends. 
 
 The California voyage occupied twice the time of 
 the trans- Atlantic ; the steamers employed in tin. 
 former w^ere large, standing well out of water, and 
 capable of carrying from 700 to 1,500 passengers, 
 while those of the latter were lower and smaller. 
 In the character of the passengers, those by European 
 
ABXOIIMITIES OF THE JOURNEY. 
 
 123 
 
 vessels were more lioinogeneous, more alike one an- 
 other, each ship carrying a fraternizing cargo what- 
 ever tiie caste, a cargo of ncaicr kin.slii[) in origin and 
 dt!stlnation, while on the Cahfornian stcanurs ail was 
 babel-tongued discordant conglonu'ration. In scenery 
 the California trip, as compared to the European, is 
 as kaleidosco})e to spy-glasH; there are seas that lash 
 themselves into angry foam, seas that race their hlue 
 billows aloni;, swirling and shaking their crest:4 in 
 careless wantonness, and seas glassy as mountain lakes, 
 mirrorinur the luxuriant ijreen of tropical isles and 
 mainland. Within the three weeks allotted to the 
 trip the voyager j)asses under the hitluence of the 
 four seasons, is introduced to wonderful lands, and 
 made acquainted with strange peoples. Nature and 
 human nature assumes phases altogether new; unitpie 
 experiences and wide prospects shaqMMi tlu^ faculties 
 and eidarge ideas. A sort of inspiration follows; the 
 windows of the mnnl are opened atid innnensity 
 rushes in, even sea-sickness is an Inspiration, or is 
 followed by keener thoughts and an inspiriting frame 
 of mind. 
 
 The reasons whv there never again can be such sea- 
 voyagings are obvious. This planet has no other Cali- 
 f )rnia left, no other Pacific coast, no further stretch 
 of gold -besprinkled un(>ccupied temperate zone. CJold 
 discoveries there may be, and possible uprisings and 
 rushes, but the earth is now belted by railways and 
 telegraphs, and all ])arts of it winth rusliing to, all 
 parts of it possible to seize, pleasant to live in, or 
 profital)lc to subdue are now occupied and guarded by 
 civilized or semi civilized nations. There never will 
 be another crusade for the recoverv of the holv sei^- 
 ulchro, nor another ten centuries of religious wars, 
 nor another Bartholemew massacre, nor any more 
 old-fashioned voj'ages of discovery, nor any more 
 California gold-hunter's voyages of adventure. His- 
 tory may repeat itself; so may nature, progressional 
 pheuouiena, and fundamental social laws, but mon- 
 
IM 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 strosities, aberrations, and abnormities, never. The 
 early voyage to California, like everything purely 
 Californian, is and ever shall be mi generis. 
 
 On the 24th of February, 1852, accompanied by 
 my friend Mr Kenny, I set sail from New York in 
 the steamer George Imw for Habana. There were 
 then two steamship lines in operation between New 
 York and San Francisco — one by way of Nicaragua, 
 and the other by way of Panamd. By the Nicara- 
 gua route, passengers were conveyed direct to San 
 Juan del Norte, or Greytown, where they took a 
 small steamboat and were conveyed up the river San 
 Juan and across Lake Nicaragua to Virgin bay, 
 Rivas, or Nicaragua, as the landing was severally 
 called ; thence by land to San Juan del Sur, and 
 again by steamer to San Francisco. Two steamers 
 of the Panamd lino, sailing one from ISew York and 
 the other from New Orleans, met at Habana. There 
 the passengers and mails of both were transferred to 
 a third steamer and conveyed to the port of Chagres, 
 where, disembarking, the Chagres river was ascended 
 in small open boats to Gorgona, or Cruces, thence by 
 saddle and pack nmles to Panamd, where the Pacific 
 Mail Steamship Company's steamer lay waiting to 
 sail for San Francisco, touching at Acapulco. 
 
 As early as 1835 the attention of the president, 
 Andrew Jackson, was called by Henry Clay to the 
 subject of inter-oceanic communication, and Charles 
 Biddle was appointed commissioner to examine tlie 
 several routes and report thereon. Nothing, how- 
 ever, was then accomplished. In 1847 the vexed 
 question of the boundary line between British 
 Columbia and Oregon having been settled by treaty 
 of the United States with Great Britain, it was 
 deemed desirable, if possible, that some shorter and 
 safer route should be found to the rich valleys of the 
 Northwest Coast, which were then rapitllv being 
 settled, than the savage path across the plains, or 
 
STEAMSHIP COMPANIES. 
 
 Panama to Astoria. Oregon f T ^"^^ ^ork via 
 tic side at Charleston 4^ ' ^^^^^^^ng on the Atlan 
 *!- Pacific at ttiefrSr"' ^^^^' «-' - 
 ^'«co. Under this aS.f '''''^^' ^"^ ^an Fran- 
 month^^^^ contract for 'a 
 
 f 09,000 per annum, was aw^'f, ! *^T"Pe«sation of 
 who assigned it to wlllitm K a" ^'""^^ ^^^^Is, 
 associates. Here thon , ^«P'»waJI and his 
 
 Pacific Mail steL h ;'c^:::;.t """^'r^ « ' «- 
 
 h\ the acquisition of k 1 fi ?^^ ^' '''^^^^' stimulated 
 
 CO d cliscoieries--b;;th : ^'Xr^ '^" ^"^-'i"-^ 
 within less than three monVlT iJ •^''^"^^ J'appened 
 a>^«umed manimotirpZ" !^^^^^^^^ ^ts organizatLJ 
 
 largest oceanic transportation ' ^"^^ '^^^^'"^ the 
 7«r seen, having [TrtteS T^""'^ ^^'' ^^^'^^ has 
 steamers, sending^its^i^nlr "' f''^^ «^ ««v<'"ty 
 seas every fifteen davsZ 7 ''t Ploughing the 
 >^ow York to HongTon^ L'r^ «-;3g^be'froni 
 ^an Francisco. "^ ^' ^^ ^^7 of Panamd and 
 
 Pao,(,c, tl,e service on^he Atl^v'"''!''"""*"' *" «■« 
 ""•"P'oes of the ir„ited State, M-rJ?r"'8 "'"''•'• tl^e 
 l«".v, wliieh sailed their , ¥"'■' Steamship Co,,,. 
 
 »tcamers were built and jesiafche f"* "'^, '«^^- «' «« 
 fi;r San Francisco, via Samd /?;','' S"!^' H-m 
 
 I'o /'««awa beino. obli,., d t r i . '*f^""> a'tbou.rh 
 ;%o« was the first ZrrX* l^^'Z^'f""''^- *''« 
 tl"8 naming of their eraT, It T,'^'**""'*''""- la 
 ^;"'». even" then, was^lt ,*,""] ',''/'""*,'"'* ^ali- 
 "f these ship-owners a tL? . •'"?«'*"> "'e minds 
 -'-tie news of thelt^of ^o^d 11 
 
1^ 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 reached tliem wlien the pioneer vessel, the Califonua, 
 went to sea, which was on the 6th of October, 1848. 
 The Panama and the Oregon followed the California 
 at short hitcrvals. In consequence of the 5>()ld 
 discovery, and the distraction in maritime afthirs 
 growing out of it, the original project of contiiming 
 the line to Oregon was abandoned, and San Francisco 
 was made the terminus. 
 
 The Pacific Mail Steamship Company was not the 
 first to raise the shrill whistle of steam in these west 
 coast waters. Organized in Enyjland hi 1840, was a 
 company for the purpose of steam navigation in the 
 Pacific, and two steamers of 700 tons each, tlie ]l\ru. 
 and the f'liili, were sent under the conunand of 
 William Wheelwright throutch the strait of Mai^cllan 
 to the port of Talcahuano; but this enterprise failed 
 from impro])er managemcnc. In 1845 a little steam 
 schooner, whose machinery had been put in by Erics- 
 son as a sort of experiment, was sent by 11. B. Forbes 
 from Boston round Cape of Good Hope to China, 
 and upon the death of the captain the mate claims 
 to have crossed thence to San Francisco. Then the 
 Hudson's Bay Company had their steamer plying 
 between Puget Sound and Russian America before 
 the California, a magnificent wooden side-wheel 
 steamer of 900 tons, entered proudly the Golden 
 Gate. 
 
 On the 1st of December, 1848, as our history tells 
 us, the Atlantic company des})atched the steamer 
 Falcon for Chagros to connect with the California 
 from Panamil, northward. The passengers by the 
 Falcon were not all of them gold-seekers, as rumors 
 of gold discoveries prior to her departure were so faint 
 as to have created little impression upon the public 
 mind. Arrived at Panamii, however, they found 
 some 1500 eager adventurers dose upon their heels, 
 all clamorous for a ])assage to San Francisco, each 
 ravenous to be in at the rich harvest before the 
 others. All anxiouslv awaited the arrival of the 
 
STEAM AND GOLD. 
 
 127 
 
 California, which made her appearance twenty-five 
 clays after the Falcons passengers had reached Pan- 
 aiiiil, and with 500 of the more highly favored, the 
 first steamship sailed majestically up the coast, entered 
 the bay of San Francisco, and came to anchor between 
 Yerba Buena island and the Cove, on the 2Hth of 
 Februarv, 184!). 
 
 What an awakeninij was here alonu those hitherto 
 slumbering shores ; steam, gold, and Anglo- Ameiican 
 occupation, all in a breath I And let it be borne in 
 mind that neither of these events grew out of the 
 other ; each was independent, though all simultaneous 
 - -as if this fair land, ripening for untold agt-s in the 
 womb of tim<', i'at! with the throes of progress now 
 been born tn iht >: i '^re, and made reatly for the use 
 of civilized iM'dii. 
 
 Then followed a series of the vilest impositions ever 
 ]iractised upon a travelling public. An o])position 
 line by way of Nicaragua was early establislu'<l, but 
 tilts tended rather to increase than to diminish the 
 discomforts of jiassengers ; for the fare was at times 
 r duced so low that it would scarcely ])ay for the food 
 consumed, to say nothing of conipensati(»n for passage. 
 Then combinations would be entered into, and C^ali- 
 r>inia made to bleed for the shipowner's f)rmer 
 losses. Subse(|uently the Nicaragua company ob- 
 tained control of the Pai-ni::^; line on the Atlantic 
 side, and the Nicara'^ua ]\u(: \\;.y, discontinued. Tliis 
 made matters worse Mi n '■va-, for so powerful had 
 tliis monopoly now become, ^bat it could safely defy 
 opposition from any source, '\l cj»ese heartless and 
 Uiiscrupulous steamship magnates, called by the nmch 
 alnised Californians the scourges of the ocean, were 
 determined to wring from their traffic • the last i)ossible 
 dollar, at whatever cost of comfort, health, property, 
 or even life to those who were obli<»;ed to commit 
 tlnnnselves into their lu? ids. 
 
 The st>rvice on the ilaniic at this time would 
 ha\'e better befitted tho , ' V can slave trade than the 
 
 
128 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 carrj'ing of American citizens; the vessels were small, 
 ill-appointed, often unseaworthy, half-manned, with- 
 out order or discipline, and with little attention to 
 comfort or safety. Exacting the money before the 
 passenger went on board, all they could get out of 
 him, shipowners somethnes performed part, some- 
 times the whole of their contract, according to cir- 
 cumstances. Indeed captains, seamen, pursers, waiters, 
 stewards, hotel-keepers, boatmen, and railway officials, 
 often appear to regard the wayfarer as an enemy, 
 going from place to place to disturb honest folk like 
 themselves, and whom to answer otherwise than in a 
 contemptuous, surly manner were ^, ^1= jrace to the 
 profession. A mistake had been coi. ted, the em- 
 ployes of tlie California steamship com^ anies seemed 
 to say, in not having had the passengers all put in 
 irons before starting. Ear-ringed islanders, tattoed 
 sailors, impudent negroes, and improved Irishmen, 
 upon principle snubbed every one that came in their 
 way, rich or poor, ignorant or learned, as infinitely 
 beneath them. Jammed hito a purgatorial hole, there 
 to remain in durance vile until the heaven of Califor- 
 nia was opened to them, from the beginning to the 
 end of the journey travellers were at the mercy of 
 these vile, unprincipled persons. The rooms were 
 often so close and filthy that occupants dreaded to go 
 to bed at night, and in the morning dreaded to arise 
 and encounter the social and atmospheric impurities 
 of the day. Often the floors of ill-ventilated cabins 
 were strewed with poor women, over whose faces was 
 spread a deadly pallor, the little ones crawling round 
 mothers too weak to move ; while in the steerage were 
 sights so sickening "as would put to blush the most 
 inhuman land-monster of feudal or any other times. 
 In selling tickets little attention was paid to limita- 
 tions In numbers by law; ships with a capacity for 
 500, would crowd in 1500, and often he who paid for 
 a first class passage was thrust into the second cabin, 
 and second cabin-passeng'Ts into the steerage. Every 
 
SOME TRAVELLING MAXIMS. 
 
 niean artifice conceivAKi . ^^ 
 
 tf fare would be exacted r«'''''\""' ''"'f fi"o.i, 
 tlireat of separating „S„ , " ^"<"»PiyJ>orth, unde^ 
 
 '"xury on board; but Xr L •^'?"^ '™^ "'« greatest 
 I'assage „,o„ey Jt was sdd to tl ■"'= *''"« "^ »«00 
 at wenty-five' cents a S b ,1 ^t"^"''' '"""'""»y 
 roa ity but a ba)f or qCt. 1 f ''" P""'"'^ ^''<"-e il. 
 With parched tou.W?!' h, "'^ " P?""<1, an.l ma.n 
 pay the price. The vovi ■^ "'?"''' '">' "'K'"! to 
 With dreid, and undcrtig" 7 -f, '"f;«' '''"vard to 
 one, at least at that Scsolecl '.f^''"'™'™- No 
 Ploasuro trip. It wa L i o , if'" ■" ".'^y <« •■> 
 Cahfornian's e.Mncrience l> ""V'""^* ^Pot w manv a 
 "igl.tmare. If S" ?' """r'»'><='-«l to this day ^s a 
 
 «- but left-llIXd S'i''^tr'""""''--''--"" 
 •"tenfattes of those daw r^^H ""• "'* *'"' «*^-'"nor 
 "'".. any through w S, tW 'P- '" '"S"'"' ^'"tter 
 ,"«™r since tl,e world was w',,"''' '^'''' ^i'«<l, for 
 justice to carriers and c^t ,"""' *" "^"'^d- In 
 
 -Luittod that tra^eS^rs^ritititdr'^r"^' " "'"^t ' 
 fr.volous co,nplaints, ofte'^v eK- t'a^tir"*'""-^ "'"' 
 »ut tins does not warranf « 7 -^ ,. *"^'^^ I>atioiicc- 
 f ";' ,«jsten,atie in u"ts " ucb "'''''"' "'"' ^' "tinie I 
 
 ■ojl'less Calif„„,ia ;^2„tet %'T ''?!'«' "1'"" 
 "diy, and in every wavT/,.* ^"'•'!,?n<iurt is ciw- 
 
 W.I1 grun,ble and be^uSs™ ^M^l'^"'' "• travellers 
 l-eoiters must expect tliis T f ' f"'',"" "'"' 'i"tcl- 
 ;:.'";'•. that as aVuie rose CO ;r- ''""'''"'"«'■ ■"<>■■«- 
 '■'gilt, should expect least u^''""' ","»*t, who, as .. 
 
 ^''infortsatl,on,efindsZ„,n^"f ^';'' '»' "'" fcwost 
 f..' s of tmvcl. In such ca eft, I '""' *''" *''""''- 
 "'"k^the loudest nole wkh% "•"'"''''■"'' "^"»"^- 
 «'«! unposition. To-day anlt'"'n 7'"' "f ''ardshi , 
 gf-s are almost alwav^^tr™ !w '"^''-bel'aved passen- 
 il'-rganized and aStXhe T""' "" '"""^^ ''"»' 
 .|h<reare standard niaxim.i. "^"'.'^yance may be 
 " -ould be well tr ,l'rt''",7ver, which 
 
130 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CAIJFORNIA. 
 
 1/ 
 
 w 
 
 comfort in travelling, then submit with resignation to 
 all ordinary imi)08itions. Resign yourself at the out- 
 set to the carrier as his victim, as the arbiter, for the 
 time, of your fate. Do not expect land luxuries at 
 sea ; man is a terrestrial and not an aqueous animal. 
 Not the least in the catalogue of annoyances, fretful- 
 ness, and complainings, the passengers bring upon them- 
 selves. Go into the hot, fetid air of the second cabin 
 and steerage, then be ashamed to nurse j'our discom- 
 forts in your upper room. The smell of oil from the 
 machinery, and filth from various quarters is nauseat- 
 ing, it is true; but I have suffered more from the 
 disgusting behavior of passengers than from filthy 
 ships and discourteous employes. Nor do I mean to 
 say that Californians are especially bad travellers; as 
 a rule they were, even in early times, orderly, quiet, 
 and well-behaved ; and when time had tempered their 
 spirits, hilarity and good humor prevailed. Other- 
 wise how should 1500 men, women, and children 
 have been able to exist, crowded into close quarters 
 for nearly a month, and much of the time under a 
 tropical sun? 
 
 Every sensible man then setting out for California 
 well knew that he should have to rough it ; or, if he 
 did not know it at the start he soon iound it out, and 
 ho ^oon saw that he might as well begin to make the 
 bciit of discomforts on ship board as any where else. 
 Those so thinking yielded gracefully to what they saw 
 was inevitable, and found that after all happiness does 
 not depend so nmch on having things a little better 
 than our neighbor, and that a little comfort, with a 
 heart disposed to be contented, carries with it much 
 happiness. Besides, all were certain of fortune, or at 
 least felicity, the moment they reached San Francisco ; 
 and so, in place of brooding over present privation.s, 
 they rather dreamed of future plenty. 
 
 There were notable exceptions to these systematic 
 impositions, even on the Atlantic side; while on tlio 
 JPacific, the rule was reversed. I have often been told 
 
ATLANTIC AXD PACIFIC SERVICE. 
 
 by officers of the Pnf.i'fi„„ 
 
 or more l.earti y c™dt,„ "1^?^ "'?' "o™" '^•^Mecl 
 
 sorvice on the Pacific w^lf ,*^?"" tl>e first tl.e 
 upon t),e Atlantic butTf .m'"'"^ """'rast to that 
 ;^-e the n,a„age« of ?he "^*'' *%?*"■"■. of ,865 
 Company able to rid f?f„, . '^" ^^^ Steamshin 
 which ^ited so long L'tr'T' •"■ *'«'* influence 
 t us time the coutn.l „f H ^i^"" "» 'he line. At 
 their hands, whe" t fe l^^.^^'r.'iue passed into 
 -ere extended to trlveTloS o„"^h " A.f "''. <=<"'"'"^'^ 
 hitherto been custon.ary on the P^i^*'""*'" «« had 
 eomimny had frequentl/ove^o^lfi ;. -""^ ^"^ifie 
 but this sometimes was an ac^ nf t l^"^" steamers, 
 eruelty ; as, f«r exan.ple l*en tl ^rJ '^"'«'' than 
 Panamd on her first vov^'th ^"'■^""'''' "-eachcd 
 there; and this, togethTl-l <,f''"'?™ «"^ ragin., 
 anxiety to «,a^i t,,f ^^^ "^h he often ill-advised 
 stances drawn the last uLf ^°H '"''' 'u many in- 
 congregated on th^ Is^rus "' * T 'T^''* "^ 'ho- 
 «'!uch had aceomniodatiil for ''^* *''"' ^*'=''™er. 
 ja'led with four times X/ i^' ^"^ P^engers 
 SUOO was paid on t is tri^L""'"*''"'- ^' ^igg as 
 
 Gradually the serv ice Tc" * 'T^' P^^ge- 
 and yet more magnificent ^», P'^'^^ted. L^mer 
 tune to time, with°p on ^Ide .?[' ""''^ '"'"' fr™' 
 >"ie m length, and thei ,^e«> in »n " ?'^''".™* °f * 
 oftcered. The line ro^ to tl^ i "PPointed and ably 
 "'arme, and became an W tn *i '"^ °^ *''« "'orld^ 
 J' rem this time until ti ° f'"= ^u'erican nati™ 
 
 ■•aiHvay, it carried mo*^„ ""'"P'^tion of the Pac fie 
 and, accordin.. to d^T P»^™gers, at fairer rat , 
 ■•umbers wit^fetr dt"omi.„^i",f ^^ ?i ^"" "*« - ' 
 ecoamc lino. F„ur, five and j".f''' ''™'' ''"other 
 passed and repassed n WW "^ thousand people 
 ^handise was ^ar^'ej Xh t.T '^^I^^^'' "'"f ""e^ 
 "%'regated millions Tf doikr/^" t" *" ^^^ » ton, 
 ■Jason why the passal o„ X W-^^ey. One 
 '- P'easant is'that fhe^X^^T^: - ^--ade 
 
132 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 water, more like floating hotels, more spacious and 
 coniinodioua than those on the rougher Atlantic. 
 
 When I reached New York, in February 1852, the 
 rush for California still continued, though in a some- 
 what modified form. A little regularity was emerging 
 from the original chaos. The steamship office was 
 not now mobbed the night before the advertised day 
 for selling tickets, nor were sailing vessels despatched 
 daily for Chagres, to empty their passengers hito that 
 infectious climate, leaving them to complete their 
 journey as best they might. For this, however, the 
 ship owners were not to blame. So wild had been 
 the excitement, so insane were men to get at this 
 newly discovered gold, that thousands would recklessly 
 take passage on any craft to Chagres, and trust their 
 chances to get from Panamd to San Francisco. This 
 they did knowing the berths on all the steamers were 
 engaged for months to come, and that nmltitudcs 
 were waiting passage, both at New York and Pananul ; 
 but as it was every man for himself, each was sure 
 that by some means, natural or suixirnatural, he would 
 manage to get through. Before this, clamorous 
 crowds used to collect in front of the ticket-office 
 previous to the departure of every steamer, and there 
 remain for days and nights, so as to be ready the mo- 
 ment the door was opened. Sailing vessels were 
 taken from the fishhig or freighting service, and fitted 
 up with a temporary deck below, the space between 
 which and the upper deck formed a dormitory and 
 saloon. Round the sides of this between-decks were 
 three or four tiers of open berths, and in the centre 
 piles of luggage, passengers' stores, rough, hanging 
 shelves for tables, and boxes and benches for chair.s, 
 there being no such thing as caste among the passen- 
 gers, or cabin, or separate apartments, save the cap- 
 tain's room. And thus, like the boat of Charon, these 
 vessels plied, and ere they landed their prurient 
 
THE DRPARTURE 
 
 > the grotesque, i„ tl," embarki,T'""r "" ""'« 
 
 J'usband and wife cl i n? ^ '^''^;'' «'«*^r and br«t 'r 
 ft'tntic en.braeo as if if Y\^'^<'h other in vet ,. ' 
 
 -lo for the an,usemo^^t;^-''"^^^^^ ^"^ '-^ « - - 
 '^ t, to say nothing, of turni.t . ''"^'^^^'^ «»^' i'^iiibr- 
 
 '".i.^ from one to n./^i " ^^' ""* »'>t of ft ru 
 ■•''•"■■••"t-an pltS" ■^';" ?«<""l't "read "I" 
 
 „„„, -;d Who re»a,„, „„d ehe So^^nr/rt 
 n, yvts do not aocomnnn.r +i ^ ^ «»>', and 
 
134 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 i 
 
 starcr, while the young husband beside her tries in 
 vain to appear as if used to it. There is the lean and 
 hungry, most bland and voluble lawyer, with long 
 hooked nose and bald head, with sword cane and con- 
 cealed deringer ; and there the hard headed and hard- 
 hearted politician, who deals in the patriotism of the 
 American people as the pawnbroker deals in the 
 sufferings of the poor. This political huckster, hav- 
 ing had in his tune a monopoly of certain souls in 
 certain districts, but having meanwhile sold his own 
 soul to Satan many times on one side of the conti- 
 nent, now seeks a new market on the other. There 
 is the little scrawny avaricious old woman, probably 
 tlie most disgusting, at the same time the most piti- 
 able object on board, going out solitary and alone to 
 wash or nurse or otherwise work and hoard, if per- 
 adventure she may scrape together a little gold be- 
 fore she dies. There is a family, father, mother, and 
 daughter, the latter of that silly simpei'ing age which 
 fancies the eyes of all the world to be perpetually 
 resting on herself; there the man of business with 
 two females in charge, bustling about under his load 
 of responsibility ; there the sleepy young man, there 
 the Jack-a-daisical young woman — slieepamong wolves 
 — and there one, ill-mannered and awkward, fresh 
 from clod-breaking and swinc-tending, yet whose even 
 flash intelligence and whose broad brow and firm lij) 
 sliow fifty years of determined perseverance and self- 
 denial, if so be so much should stand between him 
 and success. 
 
 Noah's ark presented no more incongi ous gather- 
 ing. More than thirty different nations are repre- 
 sented on this deck ; men and women of almost every 
 land in Christendom and many beyond that line, of 
 divers colors and strange speech, the lank smart Yan- 
 kee, always at home; the tall bony hairy western 
 man, uncultured yet thoughtful, who comes so far 
 cast to get a start for a farther west; cattle drivers 
 from the nor>*:li and negro drivers from the south ; 
 
QUALITY OP PASSENGERS. 
 
 Texan ™.gers an7'ptt7t'" •'^'' "««-»-&" 
 occupation j;o„e; pom^o^rportf^^RT"'''*"'^ '"" 
 ^^''onnng, polite Frenclunen •^3.-^"*?"" '' ^'"'^^tic, 
 t-crmans; fi„ry Castilia , ), ^J '"""^'""l^rturl'aUe 
 »««roos, mul^ttoer and ' .Trr™'' ^'.'-" J"v ! 
 ovory shade uniting In tlieir^vah, ^J-' V."''""'-os of 
 teut,„u3 disposition all the evn ' f "?*».''»» «'«! pre. 
 costry with few inherited IT '^i-""'"' ^iverae an- 
 J»o,.ity of costu'^e ' and'lt T''""'; ^"^^ «""' 
 Broadway dandy with t ,,!,* / ,'^'""ito>ianco— the 
 
 ""t; the western huntt^i^|.'' f'f ^""f > ""d tall 
 dress, and the loose butX^'sll-,/''' ,'"'''-''" '«"«I- 
 tl.e boat,„a„., pea-jacket ««/„""■;' "",'' «''^''«J boots; 
 can's blanket and so,n?L! ""r wester; the Mevi- 
 
 -onted with pist>iTtwi::i:;;l!'' ^'f'T'y "'™- 
 
 fiojn belt and shoulder. He„ i. ' "'"^ '.'"'•"^ «'"'« 
 
 a"<J bayonet, and yondir an an„l 1""" "''"' "">«kJt 
 
 con.pany organized for fiXT'f ' ''"^'^'"^ "^ «"»'o 
 
 ■•ann trumpet tied to hist^k'^ i"^«°'''., with »" 
 
 "•■cs you ,„ay read of wit a,t^ f"f "] *«''• &«*- 
 
 '»«;nn,e„t and of gray t^of ,^1 ^ ""l^y '"■'>''>». of 
 ;: honesty ,„dofyeS;t^f,r'^-f of b^^^^ 
 
 ^'^ui tile scene with fh^^.V i , ""^^^^y «nicers en. 
 
 -'.'' faces S^lowing tnder th^tfl'^""™-'! uniform , 
 tbuigs of life. ' ""' *"■= ii'Huence of the good 
 
 ';"^^i^ wife, alone in t]^t nl^T ''''' '^'^^'^' "^ newi; 
 ^Just of distance yet unL / ! ^^ "T^'^'^'y ^i«">"t thi 
 -'^i cheeks blanS a^d h S T'',? ^^"^ "^^^^-t 
 f untned waters and t ds 1'^^^ " ^^ ^^""^'^^^^ 
 tiieni from loved ones, perha ' I ^"'^ *^ '^I^^^-'-^^^ 
 
 '-"--wthei;f-;-r„:x;r:L»ir::;t:f 
 
13G 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 the soil of America or Australia, so that their dorni- 
 uaiit passion finds solace. Thus the conglomerate 
 and cosmopolitan character of the passengers give us 
 a foresight of what we may expect on reaching our 
 destination. 
 
 As the hour for departure approaches the confusion 
 increases. Loaded carriages drive hastily up to the 
 gang way, discharge their contents, and drive away, 
 The mails come down in heavy wagons and are taken 
 on hoard. Excited passengers rush hither and 
 thither, knocking against one another, looking after 
 lost baggage, hunting missing friends and searching 
 for their rooms. The wharves and shipping are 
 crowded to see us off. The cries of seamen and 
 porters mingle with the hoarse roar of steam; the 
 gong sounds for visitors to go ashore, hasty "good- 
 byes " and " God bless you " rise from full hearts and 
 fall from quivering lips; the captain mounts the 
 paddle-box, the gang-plank is drawn ashore, orders to 
 "cast off the hawser " and " turn ahead " are given, the 
 ponderous walking-beam moves, the paddle-wheels 
 turn, and promptly at twelve o clock, midst the cheers 
 of the gathered nmltitude, the waving of hats and 
 handkerchiefs, and the flashing of fun and fancy and 
 sentiment from upturned laughing and liquid faces, 
 the ship creeps from her berth, turns her back upon 
 the land hallowed by all the ties of birth and educa- 
 tion, and with her gun booming the last parting, 
 glides down the stream, winds through the forest of 
 shipping, past islands and grassy slopes beaming with 
 happy homes, and shoots out hito the ocean toward 
 that future of mystery and trembling expectation 
 which assumes shapes so fantastic in the minds of 
 those on board. 
 
 On our way down the bay, tickets were examined 
 in order to detect stowaways; three aspiring but 
 impecunious unfortunates were taken in custody and 
 shoved into the boat with the pilot when he left the 
 
r AT SEA. 
 
 W 
 
 steamer at Sandy H™,k n„ 
 
 ■■enmrncd hidden unfil next d» ■ '° ^''"^''era an .' 
 Wearanco he was sot to work^^^"' '",' '"^kin,. h s 
 '"3 passage, Fonr„tt„„ i- '" ""o eoa] hunker^ f 
 "■ere sent baekTv f^" 'I'V «'"' f»rewell W,!'' 
 »•"• ^'.ii. struck X u,i'''f' *''™ ^'"l- Ti a, a™: 
 waves of the Atlantic. ' " '"-'' <=""«« ""-oush the 
 "list as We \v<»rr> 
 
 unjjht prospects, glad to be nfP„ . *^'-' "'«l'in«ti<m ,:f 
 V'nturc; on the other mfn, i'' '"'«^'' *» niake the 
 «'»io with ruined hellthi''^ '"^"^"^^ "n" Mure 
 
 7- on na !';" r^i,!^^ '^'1 t '^'"8 f-* o^ 
 <>r the wild( ^ ^t, 9, " »^o be back h^ k ; 
 
 'fought f,t,:|''S^^ta,»rt and smollffl 
 talked of the time to eon^ "^ ' w^'-'f!, S^upea and 
 «» insidious and subtle i„fl "'''-' *'"'s abstracted 
 
 "Pou the voyagere TK "^''."•^« appeared toS^f 
 
 ™i;-gnated^vith"t,S^t'uidT^',"';? *° "" 
 'rum tile water throu<.h th? i r"' '' <^reenin,r „„ 
 
 the pianks on which It j ^'"P^ '""'>ers, throm"? 
 
 a^ fl ^^P^^'^^' and we were « "^^."^ ^"'^ ^ay- 
 and the ocean. ^^'^^ ^^one with darkne^^ 
 
 , ^f Jit shut us in wifl. 
 f osed us round witi w7v ^"^''•^ storm-clouds «r..l 
 
188 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 OU3 wheels that beat them into foam, wheels striving 
 \\'ith the contending flood, on one side deep in water 
 and on the other vainly grasping at the rushing tide 
 below. The jcrkhigs now and then of the ship 
 betokened a rising sea. Ciijars and sentiment were 
 abandoned, for here was the beginning of a long unrest. 
 Neither sighings, nor the quickening heart-beat of 
 hope, neither the memories of loved ones left behind, 
 nor the brilliant aspirations of the future, nor even 
 the solonm thought of thus being brought into the 
 more immediate presence of my maker could prevent 
 the rising within my bosom of sensations foreign to 
 meditation. I tried to appear indifferent ; as the evil 
 increased I attempted even to smile, but it was a 
 ghastly business. 
 
 As the wind grew boisterous, and the motion of 
 the vessel more palpably uneven, all on board, sav e 
 the favored few who had neither conscience nor 
 stomach, souffht retirement. Some thouijht to brave 
 down the unbidden rising within by moving briskly 
 about and nibbling a cracker instead of eating supper 
 and going to bed. "You can walk it off," they said, 
 "do not give up to it." I noticed, now and then, that 
 these would suddenly disappear, and when next seen 
 i:i their dotcrmhied perambulations, they looked paler 
 and not altogether happy. Some sat down to table 
 and with affected nonchalance and flourish of knife 
 and fork ,and pronounced orders for food, courageously 
 began to eat; but soon a cloud overspread their 
 fjatures, a careworn expression as of some internal 
 trouble, until at last sickness overct)ming sensitive- 
 ness, one person after another would rise hastily 
 from tlie table, clasp one hand on his mouth and the 
 other on his waistcoat, dart for the door, make for 
 the guards, and there unbosom his burdened breast 
 to the fislies. Indeed, my own food was as restless 
 within me as was Poseidon in the bowels of his 
 father Cnmos. 
 
 Few remained on deck that night to witness the 
 
■ SEA-SICKNESS. 
 
 139 
 
 Ithe 
 
 glories of the setting sun ; the stars were sought be- 
 low, the via lactea streamed over the ship's sides, and 
 tlie study of Neptune's palace under the sea appeared 
 far more fascinating than the study of Orion and the 
 Pleiades. 
 
 Sea-sickness is a great leveller. It prostrates pride, 
 purges man of his conceit, makes him humble as a 
 little child; it is specially conducive to repentance and 
 after repentance to resignation. I know of nothing, 
 after the first fear of death has passed away, that 
 makes one so ready to die. A great wave places its 
 back under the ship and lifts you up, up, hito the very 
 clouds ; then it stands from under and you go down, 
 down, with a tickling sensation within, until you stop 
 your breath waiting for the vessel to strike upon the 
 bottom of the sea. Then comes a mhigled pitching 
 and rolling, when the innermost loses cohesion, oscil- 
 lates, rotates and upheaves, when the foundations of 
 the great deep are broken up within you, when the 
 strong man bows himself as it were a woman grinding 
 at a mill, and the mourners go about the cabin like 
 apocal^'ptic angels, wailing as they pour their vials 
 out ; and by this unrest and the revels of devils with- 
 in, the image of God is degraded into that of a self- 
 acting hydraulic pump. The mind becomes concerned, 
 tlic brow overcast; it is like clapping on the head a 
 hope-extinguisher, Jind squeezing the body at once of 
 every rest and comfort flesh aspiros to ; as if the iimer 
 lining of the man were rolled up and wrung out down 
 to the very dregs of gall and bittenu'ss. Then the 
 body assumes a doubling posture, the s|)inal colunm 
 becomes flaccid and linipy, the victim is filled with a 
 desire to sink to the floor or lie prostrate; nuinliood 
 oozes out at the fingers' ends, and Cuisar becomes like 
 a sick girl. 
 
 And all the while those who escape these miseries 
 regard this agony as ludicrous in the extreme. 
 It is a capital joke to see the 8tn>ng man brought low, 
 to hear him swear and storm at every thing and every 
 
THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 body with impotent fury in the intervals between his 
 retching fits ; to see the pale despairing women strewed 
 about the cabin, on carpet, chairs and sofas, attended 
 by the stewardess with her gruel bowls, and fizzing 
 powders, and lemons, and toast and tea ; to hear all 
 day the groans and moans and gurgling laments in 
 every quarter, to have the night made hideous by the 
 loud alarms of bowel- wrench ings and belchinos that 
 might awaken the seven sleepers; and then to see the 
 tables deserted and the quandary of those who try to 
 determine which is least difficult, to keep in bed, to 
 dress, or to eat — all this is very amusing to those happy 
 souls who pet and plume themselves because they are 
 not subject to such horrible sensations, or compelled 
 to assist at such unpleasing scenes. 
 
 This rocking sensation has somethingr strange in it ; 
 it affects different persons so differently. Some it 
 drives well-nigh mad, with sensations akin to those of 
 the novice in gambling who loses his last half-dollar 
 at monte, giving its victim, if not death, resignation 
 to it ; others it sends off into peaceful and long con- 
 tinued sleep bestowing rest and contentment ; others 
 not only are not sea-sick but are made hilarious by it. 
 These latter, as they pass from room to room and see 
 the wan, woe-begotten faces of the vomiters, become 
 extremely satisfied with themselves. " Oh 1 no, I am 
 never sick," says Jenkins, "I like it, it agrees with 
 me; I really enjoy it, my appetite is never better than 
 when it is a little breezy ; only one other beside the 
 captain and myself at the table; roast du".k, tough as 
 ox-hide " — and so he rattled his nauseous boasts to 
 the infinite disgust of prostrate listeners. 
 
 And as in the sensitive breast there is usually a sense 
 of weakness and shame attending this evil, so it is held 
 by a certain class a cardinal virtue to escape it. Noth- 
 ing so inspires a man with a good opinion of himself 
 and his internal belongings as to be able to smoke and 
 whistle and carry an undaunted front when the heads 
 of his comrades are horizontally inclined, and their 
 
THE BILLOWY SEA. 
 
 141 
 
 bosoms heaving with the heaving sea ; or when they 
 are seized with a sudden interest in the study of ich- 
 thyology, and strain their eyes in untimely peering 
 into the troubled waters. It makes a man glad to 
 see his companions sea-sick ; it makes him rejoice in 
 his superiority, to delight in their woe; he laughs 
 that he is better than they. Then the shame of it to 
 the miserables who suffer. Of all who remained cab- 
 ined and berthed for the two days succeeding our de- 
 parture, few could be found who had been sea-sick at 
 all. Some had had a headache, others were fatigued 
 and needed rest ; some were not hungry, and then it 
 was too much trouble to dress. Of all maladies, the 
 one for which its victims are least to blame, they ap- 
 pear the most ashamed of, while colds and fevers 
 i3rought on by foolish indiscretions are unblushingly 
 acknowledged. 
 
 Many have made sea- voyages who suffered severel j' 
 at first, but afterward very little ; although they 
 could still be seasick in rough weather, they knew 
 better how to take care of themselves. There 
 appears to be no universal remedy for this hateful 
 and hated nausea; some find relief in iced champagne, 
 others in brandy, soda-water, tea, gruel, codfish, or 
 fruit. Much depends upon the state of the system, 
 and no two are to be treated exactly alike. In some 
 individual cases, the secret is to find that place and po- 
 sition where one can be most at rest. Few ever suc- 
 ceed in combating the evil, being always forced to yield 
 vanquished. Hence it is on going to sea, the first 
 thing to do is to arrange one's room and effects sotliat 
 one may be prepared for it ; as a certain nobleman used 
 deliberately to make ready his bed before getting 
 drunk. On this steamer my berth was near the 
 hatchway, and at times the sun poured in upon me 
 the full volume of his rays, which with the motion of 
 the ship, long fasting, and a compound of villainous 
 smells ranker than Falstatf found in Mrs Ford s linen, 
 niado me almost wild with fever and suffocation. 
 
142 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Then, with Gonzalo, would I have given a thousand 
 furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground. I would 
 have given my chance of heaven, to say nothing of 
 California, to have been out of it, anywhere but there. 
 This is why middle-aged and elderly men endure the 
 hardships of a voyage to California better than young 
 men and boys, their physique is more fixed, their 
 minds more evenly balanced, and they know better 
 how to make themselves comfortable. My father 
 informs me that on his passage from Panamh,, many 
 young men died of the Isthmus fever, but not a single 
 person over forty years of age was ill with any disease. 
 The next day the sea was higher, but the morning 
 after it was evidently growing quieter. Following 
 the throes of sickness comes a mental exaltation, giv- 
 ing birth to new thoughts. Never have I felt my brain 
 so active as while lying bracing myself in my berth 
 for days, until my bones ached, and during which 
 time I would be up only long enough to rush to the 
 table for my meals, and rush back again to keep the 
 uneasy food quiet. Thus dull intellects are whetted 
 into keenness by the asperities of the journey, and so 
 made ready to cut their way through the difficulties 
 awaiting them. Moreover, this malady is the best 
 cure in the world for love-sickness, as I have noticed 
 in the pensive youth who had left his inamorata be- 
 hind, and in solitary young women going to Califor- 
 nia to be married. Indeed, upon the homoepathic 
 hypothesis that similia simiUhns curantur, this malady 
 is likewise an antidote for bankruptcy, conjugal infi- 
 delity, or any ill flesh is heir too. The heart and the 
 stomach cannot both exercise the mastery at the same 
 time. Overwhelmed at the beginning of the voyage 
 with the merciless fate that crucified all fond endear- 
 ments, and indifferent to terrestrial affairs; as the 
 rising wind grows stronger, and the rolling waves 
 mount higher, slowly the dominator lifts passion from 
 the seat of the affections, and places it just below, 
 where it plays havoc with the organs of supply. 
 
PASSENGER ROUTINE. 
 
 ^5^.?^^-s±fr:?--/-;: 
 
 'ere fancy " shf „ "t .''^ ''"■<^«' of )"■■'• will 
 
 an-j take it for /ra^?ed T'"^' "'"' «>« otheCsiek 
 the hdy went to sea W)" 4.°"' ^"^ "■" Aftei^vard 
 
 small voice within 1170. • f ™' whether the still 
 never aftenvai 1 di/!?, T"*' «'>e did not sa • but 
 
 -a-sicknoss could be btXr' " '"''-*' 'ttt 
 ■'^t ]ast the PfrrittTr • 
 
 Pa e, gaunt forma crawlilf t '?S,?" dissolution 
 ordered rooms and eyleac T""^ ^'^^'^ a'"! di"- 
 as hey first attempt ^o use th.' T' /'"^Sering about 
 and rail ngs, finally settlhl? d ™ ?1' ^'■'"'P"'g I'ost" 
 ■n ';'gi.:back easyrchars Sid nTV" '?"=""' I™'"?"'' 
 of feeding arise • Bn-ToTv °" l-enches. Thc...^l,(= 
 ^^ble fill ^p. ^|(fitr;'tu™^T^ ^'"";^' and sS a 
 degre^e of amiability ThT "1 •?"*'*" ""»es soine 
 eheerful look as tlL 2uJ^'^"i faces put o "a 
 n;anifcstii,„ their coTyatSfeT ''°'''' the' female^ 
 ll^';'--, odete, and in theTresse^Vtr •™'' .""«'-^^t 
 "-'nder these auspices if „„t ^ ' their neiVJibori 
 
 go«i conduct pre™[ls ""* ^"""""y- «t least |™e5 
 
 *';H wrh1:^i-^,P-f^^ begin. Taki„,y„„ 
 
 of the purser, the civil cnnL 1 '^'"'"'' t" the , ffice 
 "ays a civil man tou '"" "'a"dant, though not al 
 "-hose number deL.Cte' ™ '"' '* " "''^'« eheck 
 Notables and favofi'es '^1 ''f '''"• "'^ vo'a'e 
 
 tat'^fterrrrbtr^^^^^^^^ 
 
 :^ them.'%3idXtr': ^r'-feio" • 
 managed upon the mo^t dem ''^Pta'" » table, all is 
 table is usuLuy ilj JZlfZJ'^^"' P''""^¥<s. The 
 
 always. Table ticket's'^^.tti """'•/''"""'' ""t 
 
 t" en to prevent a scramble 
 
141 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 for place, which, before the seats are allotted, some- 
 times rises to a downrisrht fijjht whenever the bell 
 rings. I never saw the Darwinian theory more aptly 
 illustrated than before these table tickets were given 
 out ; in a voyage to California, the survival of the fit- 
 test was a foregone conclusion. At meal time partic- 
 ularly the animal was let loose ; the strong prevailed, 
 and <jbtained a seat at table, while the weak, or such 
 as did not choose to exercise their strength if they had 
 it, waited, and took what was left. 
 
 As the strong man fed, he lapsed into a state of 
 semi-unconsciousness ; his manners were unstudied, 
 and his abandon perfect. He could sweep the dishes 
 of their contents, far as the arm could reach, quicker 
 than a prairie fire sweeps the ground of grass. The 
 movements of a starved dog over the cat's saucer of 
 milk were slow as compared with his movements. He 
 appeared wholly unaware of the presence of women 
 and children who likewise were hungry for food, 
 thoujjh I have seen females who could fiy:ht for their 
 survival with the best of the men. When his hunger 
 was satisfied, he came to himself, gazed wistfully 
 about, picked his teeth with his pocket-knife, and 
 slowly retired. 
 
 Steamers for the Californian passenger trade were 
 usually built with three or four decks ; they were at 
 this time all side-wheel and carried small masts. 
 Sails were sometimes spread, though little depended 
 upon them in navigating the ship. The larger ves- 
 sels employed from seventy-five to one hundred men, 
 officers, seamen, and servants. Of all the employes 
 the firemen were the greatest suiferers ; working be- 
 fore a hot furnace down in the hold, they were fre- 
 quently so overcome of heat that they had to be 
 packed in ice to cool them off. On the upper deck, 
 above the ship's hull, was a double row of state-rooms, 
 with ample space between them and the guards for 
 sittinjx and walking, and for the manaojement of the 
 ship. On this deck, forward, were also the pilot- 
 
coNSKircTroN op ship. 
 
 ^ouse. and the r ^'^^ 
 
 "«« were ap e^ -,^1^ ""' ''^^''' ^"-^ and ir» '" 
 oarcb^:^ e" tlfe";'f, ^'o™' "^"d also flT*-^ '>""" 
 
 loom, the l,»;i ™ "ffi<:ers' romn« «l' ^° *ere 
 
 {,'alle; Bett'':f'?»P. bar, buteherTU " ""S'^^er's 
 
 atr^£e\ ^^^'^^ZtP^^^ 
 
 •'ftbe Seal. ' ''i^"' "f f'e sS thi^?'"'*^"" ''ad 
 »f the S.?i •"• "'«r took the r ;,;,? ^"'^ ^ *ose 
 passe„,?e;'™b ^"""g before or aZti" i''" ^'"''" 
 
 ^« .>'as usually ,S'f ^ ""S'^'x^or adoct I'^i 
 Notice wa<s r.«„*; "Either competonf ». ^^wr, but 
 
 ^^ickens, turkevfi ^«"iesin 
 
 -.»V.r„n^^-^-e, duck, eheep, swine, and 
 
146 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORXIA, 
 
 cattle were carried on board, and butchered as re- 
 quired. Meals were kept going in the saloon nearly 
 all the time, as when the ship was crowded three or 
 four tables were set for each meal, so that breakfast 
 crowded on luncheon, and luncheon on dinner. On 
 tliis trip there were nine tables in all, but I have fre- 
 quentl}'^ seen the tables all laid twelve times each day. 
 The steerage passengers were treated more like beasts 
 than human beings; to the shipowners they were but 
 so much freight, to be carried at so much a head. 
 Their sufferings, and whether they lived or died, were 
 matters oi' their own. They were bedded like swine, 
 and fed like swine. Instead of a trough, a broad, 
 board shelf was suspended from the ceiling, which 
 served as a table, greasy and clothless, furnished wltli 
 tin plates and cups, and pewter spoons, and on which 
 were placed huge pans or kettles of food, stews, beans, 
 and the like. Droves, one after another, were let in 
 thr<jugh a gate, and after they had fed a while they 
 were driven out by their sooty overseers. 
 
 Out of the regions of ice and snow, out of boist t- 
 ous waves and cold stinging air, we pass Cape Hat- 
 teras, and dropping down the Florida coast and across 
 the gulf stream, sail into an unruffled sea, into the 
 soft, southern, aromatic air, down into the seaweeds, 
 and through the haunts of nautilus, and flying fish, 
 which in their attempts to scale the ship often drop 
 upon the deck; down among the ever-green isles 
 where were enacted the initial tragedies of Ameri- 
 can race-extermination. Spring succeeds winter and 
 summer spring. The polestar pales behind us. The 
 air first softens, then grows languid, and finally pul- 
 sates with heat. Flannels and heavy clothing are laid 
 aside ; clean calico dresses and summer bonnets take 
 the place of woolen gowns and hoods, and the experi- 
 enced male travellers sport their white pantaloons, 
 linen coats, and straw hats. Out under a burning 
 sun, and into hot sea-breezes, and from shivering in 
 
«>'VN mro THE TROWC& 
 
 ^urs and over^nn^^ W 
 
 oner<.y wifi *^'^'T^ves about tht J ^ ^^'^'^ ^^f^ins 
 "J'in; m.-n.l „ , "^ern frosts arp .n u , ^o'^Jiern 
 
 "nnui steal ov° r Z , ""^ ^^'^''"n k ;,-,* ' 7"" ? 
 "'^■■■y IH.ro an.l stand/- "'"^ ' P'^'^Pi'^ «'« 1%'''"' 
 •^■"■p, np fl,„^, ^g. ?'«'s ,, gr,,at beads uLuT " 
 
 rfiaracter. *"<' """"t the true STnf ,',""■" 
 
 f oloss toV to ouT l^r "Sers are verv „„• . • 
 
 iinc. wave 'r!'"''?* °" b'«rd B ,' *''f ™«'<"l teL. 
 « ).el«rah,"!''"'^*''<'™fce"ftheer''"'? "'« '"■'^t- 
 
 lerth nr ""oets, some restlos>i fi.li . "etwoon the 
 "">'>th,Zl,r'"'r"' '""•«>• jaw a„h ""*'•• At 
 
 cursed ih^,» i '^"en those of ^i • 'i'^"' wie beef 
 
 Here :»S e^lr""^' "'^'"■"« 
 
us 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 l^ 
 
 tlic ship. Rushing in where angels fear to tread, into 
 the august presence of omnipotence itself, he boldly 
 addresses the Thunderer, the captain of the craft, 
 who if he happens to be occupied gives in return a 
 dciep-toned curse and a shove which sends the appli- 
 cant headlong elsewhere for information. Nothing 
 daunted, but a little more wary in the future, before 
 he leaves the ship he knows the difference between 
 bow and stern, and lee and wcatherside, learns to 
 count time by the bells, and to play seven-up for the 
 drinks. 
 
 I noticed, after we were fairly out at sea, a certain 
 habitual sarcastic expression on the face of many, 
 particularly those of the ruder sort, as if the wearer 
 wished to cover his sense of inferiority. Such are 
 tlie men, who, seasoned by experience, and having in 
 reality gained a better opinion of themselves, but 
 making less show of it, on their return from California 
 fall victims to professional pickpockets, who regularly 
 plied their trade between New York and Aspinwall, 
 endeavoring to win the confidence of returning Cali- 
 fornians so as to fleece them on going ashore. Some 
 there were on this trip out who had been to California 
 before, men of slow demeanor, with slouched hat and 
 slouched gait, of free and easy speech, and comfortable 
 carriage, and self-satisfied countenance, red-shirted, 
 perhaps, as they were proud of the distinction, and 
 these wfere looked up to as superior beings by all 
 raw recruits. Some sat the livelong day gazing list- 
 lessly on the water, or staring stupidly at their fel- 
 lows ; others restlessly wandered about with a sharp 
 anxious inquiring look; some set themselves up as 
 sailors and talked knowingly of ships, others discussed 
 politics, religion, and monetary affairs, and many had 
 much to say of the land and people to which they 
 were going. Among them you might readily point 
 out the chronic talker, the chronic listener, and the 
 chronic laugher, which latter with his asinine guffaw 
 at every silly repartee was the most disgusting of all. 
 
 'M 
 
 ■} ii 
 
\, ■ STEAMSHIP LIFE. 
 
 ■SU'^i^fti" ? "'ff je^ ^^' ''^' v^: 
 
 < "ty. felt that il''^^"''«olf to be ?„ {? *'''' ""'»- 
 "i'l't thing rL7'J°'»S the faajtif«P>th "f 
 
 Stoaiiishin JjY ' 
 
 ''"'ineas bt tS :i'^--K-s, tl..^ tZl^ «"m.- 
 "OSS and chnmirj?. ^"«'aljfanL'rf.n» I '■'"""'■e 
 hf^^tvveon Ln.'" '''sten.ner ffi ™''' '"s^ morose- 
 ™yarrrr'^''''d dullness fe '\'' ''•f^^'^nc,: 
 
 "vx.n.o,n/oS„r"''^r P'-'-»n need " ''''•^' "««'' '^ 
 
 rati, some ThU^f^'^- ^"">^ «tudv s„ "'"I'' ''""''I 
 ''»ck-gamm.«, , "''"'<'• '"'h'X or s^^uff"""*''. some 
 ""dn^tafew^i^"', -rite '"'te^ 0"'^' <'^«-' or 
 "''o whose Wn "^ *"> ^"vacre is 1,1 >'' * J°«™al, 
 ".deal is :,-ofcr r^ W^un , l S"f,P°Hunit,. 
 '""o has ended l ^l"^^'" "^ GauJ 1^7 *''" "'■™nie 
 
 f those :hot;ttr^"n'« '» '»- l: '1^ ••" 
 
 """"ont Which t u'' ,«'"-onometcrL*;r'^'">««»; 
 
 '""•"te'' sta'g^,*'""^ ''"■ng their a„ge, t^r"'*' 
 ^"unle mo,r if "'s' -nere and f h«« ^ ^° *"e an- 
 
 ''- 'houX'tirr '"^^ '■" «-h s t!T'^ "'-"id 
 
 f«nark and li- .'*'"'" «""nd her w«ti-",^<'«'J "Pon 
 ^-odo-nwhonoWS^-f^-V 
 
150 
 
 THE VOYAGK TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 tlieir hate, and manifest no more delicacy in disclosing 
 their mutual infelicities. Home-sickness, oftener felt 
 than spoken, sometimes overtakes unfled<^cd wanderers. 
 On this voyage, just as we were passing the Bahama 
 islands, one man was so overcome that he could not 
 repress his tears as he begged the captain to put him 
 on board the first returning ship. •' I acted hastily," 
 he cried, " I did wrong in leaving wife and children. 
 But I will make amends; let me return and work for 
 them till I die." In time, this man, who was a poor me- 
 chanic, became reconciled; but I could not help think- 
 ing how many hearts had throbbed well-nigh to 
 bursting with secret regrets. 
 
 The fifth day out was Sunday, when the Episcopal 
 service was read by the purser. Sabbath is never 
 Sabbath again after spending one on a California 
 steamer. The sacred charm is broken, the hallowed 
 influence of the day forever gone, placed among the 
 tilings that were, only to be called up in the mcmor}', 
 and pondered over, and wondered at. Here Sunday 
 is nmch like other days ; there is little to remind one 
 of the deep celestial quiet of the home Sabbath. 
 
 There was a little less card-playing and novel read- 
 ing ; now and then a bible or a prayer-book might be 
 seen, and sacred hynms supplied the place of negro 
 melodies. But home pictures would appear painted 
 on the imagination deeper and stronger than on other 
 days. Evening songs fell on hearts tuned to the old 
 familiar strains, sending tears to the eyes of many a 
 listener. Many there were in body rocked on tlic 
 Atlantic that in spirit were back by the old fireside. 
 The Loud laugh fell on the ear, but the heart heard 
 only the chiming of the village bells ; the merry jest 
 wei)t round, but ere it fell it turned to a precept pro- 
 nounced by the familiar voice from the old churcli 
 pulpit; the rippling of water was but the murmurs of 
 mother and brother talking of the absent one. Con- 
 science draws fine lines sometimes ; there was one man 
 who would not take a hand at cards because it was 
 
HABANA. 
 
 151 
 
 Sunday, but he did not mind risking a dollar on the 
 game. 
 
 Came in sight late that niglit, or, ratlicr early tlio 
 nc xt morning, the fair island of Cuba. I dressed my- 
 self and went out. It was a magnificent moonliglit 
 night and the sea was smooth as glass. There was a 
 soft troj)ical haze in the atmosphere, and as, on our 
 approach, the mountains of the interior assumed form, 
 and the green hills, and white beach, and coral reefs 
 — almost buried in foliage-— the waving palms of the 
 hill-toi)S and the orange groves nestling in quiet val- 
 leys were more plainly distinguished, the view pre- 
 sented was ravisliJiu' in the extreme. Arrived off 
 Habana an hour before daylight, we came to a stoj) 
 and lay too under the guns of the Moro Castle, where 
 we were obliged to wait until sunrise before entering 
 the harbor, such being the rule. Then, just as the 
 sun lifted its warm tints above the horizon, scattering 
 the sky -painted imagery that forecast the dawn, we 
 turned round the daik bluff, under the frowning battle- 
 ments of the fortress, ij;un answering gun in courteous 
 salute, while far ovci tJu. sea swept the morning nmsic 
 fi\)m the fort, like blasts of the archangel sounding 
 the opening of a new world. As we slowly steamed 
 up the chaniiel, on tlie right of which lay the city, 
 with its terraced houses of many colors, blue, yellow, 
 and red, its quaint cathedral ])iles and glittering sjurcs, 
 our course was arrested by pompous health and cus- 
 toms officers, wlu), after performing their duties to their 
 dignified satlsfacti<m, allowed us to proceed. We soon 
 came to anchor before the city, and the passengers 
 were permitted to land. 
 
 Pygmalion's statue was no more lost in won- 
 derment than was I. To my inexperienced gaze all 
 was as marvelous as if I had been lifted from another 
 world and put down upon this spot. There was the 
 voluptuous morning sun rolling in an aerial sea of 
 crimson flanked by silver-burnished clouds ; the wanton 
 air pla}ing with the feathered palms, and breathing 
 
152 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 tlie perfumed incense of orange groves ; and here a 
 wonderful city glittering beside a glassy sea, a city 
 famous for its cigars, its fountains, its magnificent 
 opera house and mosaic mirrored counting house, its 
 narrow streets and broad shaded carriage-way and 
 Isabel Segunde promenade, its grand plaza, cafes and 
 brilliant gas lights, its moonlight music, and gay 
 military officers, and dark-eyed senoritas, and its two- 
 wheeled volantes — the hansom cab of London and 
 the gondola of Venice — drawn by a small, scrawny 
 horse, harnessed to the ends of tM'o long poles ten 
 feet and over from the vehicle. The tail of the ani- 
 mal is braided so as to leave it at the mercy of tor- 
 menting flies, and besides drawing the gig with its 
 freiglit of fat Cubans or fair senoritas, the poor beast 
 must carry a driver with large jingling spurs and 
 heavy club. If iii.<re than one beast is attached to a 
 volante, the horses are usually driven tandem. 
 
 To the the bishop's garden, the pofiular drive, 
 most of our passengers went for the day — past villas 
 and chateaus buried in blooming foliage, through 
 avenues bordered by hedges of roses, and shaded by 
 orange-trees bending beneath their golden fruit. At 
 night wo listened to the band playing in the plaza, 
 and watched the half-veiled senoritas, and sombre 
 looking men and smoking women and naked boys, 
 moving noisily about beneath the shrubbery and 
 under the glowing moon which, mirrored on the 
 glassy water of the harbor, made it shine like a sea 
 of silver. Siempre fiel isla de Cuba; la'loya mas 
 brilliante en la carona d' Espana — heaven be with 
 thee, as thou in my youthful fancy appeared almost 
 like heaven. 
 
 The passengers, baggage, mails, and freight of the 
 George Law were here transferred to the steamer 
 Georgia, and day and evening were consumed in the 
 operation. At length, worn out by unaccustomed 
 fatigue, tired even of a tropical paradise, we shoul- 
 dered a quantity of cigars which we had purchased 
 
KINGSTON. 
 
 158 
 
 and went on board — settling the export duties, under 
 direction of the seller, by givhig a half dollar to the 
 official stationed on board, who pocketed it amidst 
 vehemently gesticulated protestations, which I took 
 to be a sort of mock battle between conscience and 
 duty ; or it may be he deemed the bribe insufficient to 
 satisfy virtue so august. Leaving him to reconcile 
 matters as best he might I hurried to bed, and wlien 
 I awoke in the morning the lovely isle had vanished 
 like a dream, and we were far on our way toward 
 Jamaica, that is to say, the Land of Wood and 
 Water. 
 
 Kingston, where we touched for coals, should be 
 the black man's paradise. A negro pilot pretended 
 to guide our vessel into the harbor, a negro })ort- 
 master pompously manipulated the mails, black shop- 
 keepers importuned passers by, black hackmen 
 clamored for a fare, black prostitutes smiled for cus- 
 tomers, black fruit-vendeis and parrot-sellers crowded 
 tlie avenues leading from the wharf, dashinij: black 
 dandies flourished their white-headed canes, squads of 
 olack sokliers swelled hi the Britisher's red coat, the 
 regimental band which played in the park was con>- 
 puscfl of some fifty fine performers — black ; black 
 women, about fifty in number, some of them young 
 girls, did the coaling, carrying on their heads a tub or 
 lialf barrel holding sixty pounds of coals, marohii»g 
 up and down the gang-plank with ease and alacrity, 
 jiccompanying their ap[>arently laborious duty with 
 loud laughter, song, and dancing, while the men sat 
 l)y and smoked and smiled approval. Swarms of 
 polished ebony bipeds, male and female, perambulated 
 the streets, smoking their long cigars, and fomiliarly 
 (lacking their rude jokes with the passengers. Kace 
 <listinctioQ, if there be any but such as is merely phy- 
 sical, seems to be here reversed, the white man, as a 
 <lass, occupying about tlie position of the black man 
 ill other parts. Literally, a white man here is as 
 
164 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 good as a black one so long as he behaves himself. 
 Colored freeholders received the elective franchise as 
 early as 1830; after 1838 they could sit in the local 
 legislature, by which qualification 1853 saw one black 
 man in the council and fifteen in the assembly. Judg- 
 ing from the muscle on arm and leg, and the loads 
 the women carry on their heads, this West India 
 climate agrees with the African. 
 
 Putting to sea, in three days thereafter we an- 
 chored before the ruins of the old fort of San Lo- 
 renzo conunanding the entrance to Chagres river. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA,— ISTHMUS OF PANAMi. 
 
 What deein'd tliey of the future or the past t 
 The pretient, like a tyrant, held them fast. 
 
 — Byrotu 
 
 The isthmus of Panamd, or, as it was anciently 
 called, Darien, must ever coininand the interest of the 
 civilized world. Aside from the charm which history 
 tlirows over this region, as the bar which baffled the 
 last attempt of the great admiral to find a passage to 
 India, as the point where were planted the first perma- 
 nent Spanish settlements on the North American conti- 
 nent, as the window of the bi-continental Cordilleras 
 wliich, opened by the hand of Vasco Nuiicz de Balboa, 
 lot in from the great South Sea a flood of light illumi- 
 nating well nigh to blindness all Europe, as the initial 
 point to many a marauding expedition, as the scene 
 of divers piratical attacks, and local revolutions, — I 
 say aside from historic associations, this narrow strip 
 of earth must ever be rcijardod with attention bv all 
 tlie nations of the world, presenting, as it does, the 
 smallest impediment to inter-oceanic communication 
 and an uninterrupted patliM'ay from Europe to Asia, 
 saiUng to the westward. Said Walter llaleigh to 
 Klizal)eth, "Seize the isthmus of Darien, and y<ui will 
 wrest the keys of the world from Spain." Here tlie 
 continent was first spanned by iron, and here is being 
 duj^ the first inter-oeeanlc canal. 
 
 At the beginning of the new traffic arislnj; from 
 tlie discovery of gold in California, thi; natives of the 
 Isthmus were civil, inoffensive, and obliging. This 
 
 (155) 
 
156 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 state of tilings was quickly changed, however. It 
 was a new experience for tlieni, this contact with 
 Anglo- Americans of the ruder sort, strong, shrewd, 
 and overbearing, too often impudent and insulting, 
 too many of them unprincipled, with a sprinkling of 
 unmitigated rascality. The mild and ignorant tropi- 
 cal man shrank from them at first, then grew sullen 
 and suspicious, and finally fell to cheating in return, 
 though never able in this last accomplishment to 
 equal his bright exemplar. 
 
 Two pilgrims landing at Chagres from the steam- 
 ship Isthmus, in January 1849, the Quaker City then 
 lying in the harbor, hired bongos for themselves and 
 baggage, proceeded up the river to the head of navi- 
 gation, then transferred their belongings to the backs 
 of mules, riding one between them, alternately, and 
 so proceeded to Pananid. This was then tl e usual 
 way. The steamer California was there, having just 
 come round Cape Horn, and having on board some 
 sixty passengers from Valparaiso. 
 
 There was quite a panic among the travellers, sev- 
 eral thousands of wlu^m were collected there, waiting 
 f;»r an opportunity to proceed to San Francisco by any 
 conveyance whatever. There was much inqjrudence 
 anion ,»• them. The excessive use of intoxicating ]i(juors, 
 eating tropical fruits to which they were unaccustomed, 
 .and heavy rainfalls, contributed to develop sickness 
 among them. It was difiicult to obtain accomnioda- 
 tlons; people were crowded, and many died from 
 cholera and fever. Many of the persons on the Isth- 
 mus at the time had tickets only to that point, and 
 tickets from there to San Francisco, for deck passage, 
 were sold as high as six hundred dollars. The steam- 
 ers could not furnish accommodations for so many 
 pi^rsons. The steamship company allowed a certain 
 number of tickets to be drawn, but there was imuli 
 trickery in this. In order that there mi'jlit be fair 
 play, some of the outsiders were called in; but gam- 
 blers and other improper persons having been selected. 
 
ON THE ISTHMUS 
 
 t .at scourge, and .TZ,'^! *^, J°™«' «ere victims " 
 tl.e whole black ropulaS of rr*?' «"'' ""»» n^-Tly 
 
 In tlieooures of time amX'tTv^' '*/*"'' "■"" '851. 
 ation of passengers fro ',1 fA"'"' '^"" *''« transij 
 but the above data 1^1,1"^'""""^ «""•" provided 
 vevan idea of ItlXe 6.T^T" ''^^^ ™. tn-' 
 |.-.W by way of the IstLuTh^l"^ f*"*" ^"'""""'ia 
 -i«-ay, commenced in isro^t^nferlru! 
 
 P""l>any due encoural^efe; '"'' '" "'^""^ *''« 
 I'o travel ed over an,l ;„.,ii .•""*«' seven ni es niu<if 
 
 •" t'.e „te of 7;:^^ ::f joii"*; a" '^T'"' '■"^ "- -"■ 
 
 *'"ger crossing the Is Ln !. ""'''' "" every pas 
 «« given to Ugh f ,eh«r ,, r"-'"'*^'- ^o LdZ 
 "r three leagues easter v to P ' ^'''Tf'' »''«"«« t«o 
 ™.lled Aspinwall, the n^„*e a^d™,' "' ^^'T S', then 
 "»»i being thrust aside for tl5''^V"'^ 'I'" «>■«* "d- 
 "'»ney magnate. However t.'n"'^ " ^''»' York 
 "'«afewyea,«afterresS TI,"''' ""r "^ ^^olon 
 "n.l r,Kle ever the seven mlh., J 7" '''^^'nl'arked, 
 '"g for the same quite ti ?,f ''"'npleted work, na, 
 
 ;;'«ed to engage\r i\,Mi;rtlr"rr '^^•^^- 
 
 «' ich we could as easily anH, i 9"'S''''' ""•■■. 
 '"■^"■e as afterward ^ "^ "^'"^Pb' liave done 
 
 ''vvrfi„t/t7;r;^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 >"l"al and unique ; a feat^"l;.^' altogether indi- 
 -^- wlideinclV:jlS«ra!c:rthrS ^ 
 
'ff 
 
 158 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 ever changing scener}- which affords the observer con- 
 stant dehght, as the journey is now made. 
 
 Chagres at this time was a town of about seven 
 hundred native inhabitants, dwelling in some fifty 
 windowless, bamboo huts, with thatched, palm-leaf 
 roofs, and having open entrances, and the bare ground 
 for a floor. The town was surrounded by heaps of 
 filthy offal, and greasy, stagnant pools bordered with 
 i)lue mud. It is situated on a small but exceedingly 
 picturesque and almost land-locked bay, well nigh 
 l)uried bv the foliage that skirts its banks and rolls 
 off in billowy emerald toward the hills beyond. Be- 
 tween the shore and mountains stretch away for miles 
 in every direction broad, open savannahs, cut into 
 firms, covered with chaparral, and stocked with cattle. 
 Wh< re the river and ocean meet rises a bold bluff, 
 ( rowned by the castle of San Lorenzo, whose ruined 
 f )rtre.ss and batthnncnts, gnawed to a skeleton bv the 
 toetli of time, gaze mournfully out upon the sea which 
 lashes its waves against its steep foundations, as if 
 determined to uproot in all these inhospitable parts 
 the last vestige of the olden time. Fallen to the 
 bottom of the clifll* were parapet and guns ; screaming 
 SL\a-birds occupied the crumbling, moss-covered watch- 
 tower ; while within the dismounted cannon, bearing, 
 with the royal arms of Spain, the date of 1745, were 
 slowlv chanixinsr into rust. Ilenmants of the old paved 
 road which ascends the hill were there, and the draw- 
 bridge over the moat — once wide and deep, but now 
 rank with vegetation — leading to the main gateway ; 
 likewise the drawbridije to the citadel on the verjje of 
 t!ie cliff, whence a charming view of sea and land may 
 be had. At Chagres, passengers were accustomed to 
 stay no longer than sufficed to engage boats and start 
 on their journey. This region is specially noted for 
 the insalubrity of its climate. 
 
 Asjnnwall, or Navy bay, where the first blow upon 
 the railway was struck, occupies a small swampy nmd- 
 reef called Manzanilla island, fringed with mangrove 
 
COLON. 
 
 beasts and n„i^„„U3 inseots ' '' ""'^ "-^ ^^'Pt"-', 
 
 %. anXea'S rt^''^^"'^- -'-' Nav, 
 seems to ,„o l.arcllv nr 2l,I l""T^'' C"l"n. Tl,is 
 
 "f ">e early voya^Z^^^t a„v" "'^'''•^' '''"-■ '-' « 
 event ; and in the next «?,.„ fi ^ '"™'""' "f ™el, an 
 '"'vo found many"ZLmZ'\«"'^^ ad.niral coul 
 »"* timn this tJZvCZa "^^S-^ud "»P'-rt 
 'le Bastidas or Columb,^ f , ^''«ther Kodri,,,, 
 r-d;^ do not .state Kfi;;?^''::';' ?'."'«.«, th.Iir 
 "f tiiat famous place it will? *""? '""*""' '"akes 
 
 adventures of Die?r'dp K- '^ ^'-ombered, s in the 
 
 ;^'«?- A relativJof twrS ™"p*'"'^«^''--i- 
 bavn,g eonnnand of anXr Zn *[' '^"f'" ^y '""'■'•• 
 ^■euosa sailed, and beeoVni^iltlf ''/.'''"' "' "''"''I 
 "amier in a storm, wr/orL 1^*"' '^"'" ''» ™'"- 
 ^,arl,„r his worn,-eaten II n aT H ''^ T'"'"S '"'", to 
 Cl.agres, so called b the Lt' ;"""*'' "^ «'o river 
 I'o nmltitudes of ^La f.rs tw"; ''""" ,^^'''^''' f--"" 
 
 Aspniwall, with its hvl.rll^^M?" "'"' '»«•" "f 
 '"terseeting stajfna ,t^n " I' T 'T T' f*''^"-^^'" "^ 
 ''«'aymg vegetation reek 1 t.t-r'' "^ ""'»« «»<! 
 omwhng reptiles, oiver „ve? r"""""' ""^ «'ith 
 "f 'ler creations, man L, "^ ""*'"•« *" the vilest 
 '™ in. or ,.th;r to die TS T'^"-^ " l''-« '-f ^ 
 I'lan.Iy written on the face f l"'™"'""'e death is 
 "ant. Tmvel the world over 7"F ^'"•"''^•"" i"''«l- 
 '"V find son,ething he ter than i T "7'^' f''-^" v„u 
 I'laec. Sear<-hinL' for thJ • '? """"' '» a»v other 
 --'I' o«elled, w^Vu,;,* rinTe?"-' "' ",'"<■'' ^sp.' ! 
 eaimot be anywhere surpassedw, "■■'"" ^'"'''' «■'"<■'' 
 '^^""lla island may h«.Tthe fi "f '^^''e"- Man- 
 j'''!";:*- Originalfy aw,,,," ^Cf """•^'^^ "" *''e 
 I^U'ldings were below thJtvel of ,'^""«'«"™'« "f the 
 
 itvilof the ocean, and dry 
 
160 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 land was made by filling in as occasion required. The 
 result in this soft soil of filth and vegetable putridity 
 may be imagined. The very groun:! on which one 
 trod was pregnant with disease, and death was dis- 
 tilled in every breath of air. The rain-fall at Aspin- 
 wall is very heavy. During the rainy season, which is 
 from May to January, the windows of heaven are 
 opened, and in October and November there is a 
 quick succession of deluges. Glued furniture falls In 
 pieces ; leather moulds, and iron oxidizes in twenty- 
 four hours. 
 
 Quite a contrast between the old and the new I In 
 making the transit by rail, the day before reaching 
 Aspinwall every one descended into the hold of the 
 steamer, either in person or by proxy, selected his 
 baggage, had it weighed and cheeked, and paid ten 
 cents a pound for all over fifty pounds if a holder of 
 p steerage ticket, and all over one hundred pounds if 
 a holder of a cabin ticket. Baggage was then trans- 
 ferred to the steamer on the other side witiiout fur- 
 ther trouble to the owner. No sooner was the pjank 
 out than the closely penned passengers, with a rush, 
 squeezed and stampeded — the American style of dis- 
 embarking — hastened ashore, scattered themselves 
 among the hotels, shops, and fruit venders, and were 
 soon lost in present gratification of appetite, and in 
 laying in a store of comforts and disease for the 
 future. The pleasure of placing foot on shore after a 
 long voyage, even though it be the soft spongy shore 
 of Aspinwall, is exquisite. To a cramped sea-rolled 
 landsman any spot of earth looks lovely, especially 
 when viewed from the sea. To tread on solid ground, 
 and feel mother earth beneath your feet again, seems 
 like a return from supernatural regions. Thus to 
 land and thus to cross the Isthmus is a pleasant 
 change from the tiresome life on board the steamers. 
 Railway passengers wish the ride was longer, wish 
 they could so ride all the way to San Francisco. 
 Seated by an open window, the face fanned by the 
 
RACE PANDEMONIUM. 
 
 m 
 
 motion of the train, and armed with a pitcher or pail 
 of iced water, the ride is indeed charming. But at 
 the time of which I write crossing the Isthmus was a 
 veiy different affair, as I shall show. 
 
 !rlaced ashore at Aspinwall by the ship's boats the 
 passengers by the Georgia were conveyed on oiien 
 platform cars to Gatun, seven miles distant, situated 
 on a small stream of the same name, near its conflu* 
 ence with the Chagres river. There an uproarious 
 scene presented itself The occasion was the hiring 
 of bongos or canoes in which to ascend the river. The 
 boating was done by negroes and natives ; the patroncs, 
 skippers, or owners of the boats were mostly Creoles, 
 the least tinge of whiteness in their blood being suffi- 
 cient to warrant them in asserting supremacy. The 
 gold-seekers were here first thrown upon their own 
 resources ; here the real battle began. On shipboard 
 tliey were only so much steamship pabulum ; tho 
 goddess of liberty had shrunk to the dimensions of a 
 captain of a water craft. Once more on shore, and 
 American manhood might again assert itself Of 
 course attempts would be made at cheating, and such 
 attempts sliould be resisted to. the death. Nothing 
 quicker marks the narrow-minded and inexperienced 
 traveller than a morbid fear of being overreached. 
 Sliall the American eagle be brow-beaten by the 
 turkey-buzzards of a nonderscript No-land? Hence 
 any attempt at fancied imposition was blustered down, 
 and knives and pistols freely used, if locessary, to en- 
 force fair dealing. 
 
 Seldom did a steamer load of passengers get started 
 up the river without much wrangling. Boat-owners 
 were not slow to take advantage of tj.<nr necessities, 
 and charge exorbitant fares ; or having made a con- 
 tract they flew from it and demanded more. Rascal- 
 ity was rampant ; and so keen were the adventurers 
 to scent a swindle that they sometimes found a mare's 
 nest. Ma'w a pil ^frini here first shed the crust of 
 oouvcntionality ; and many another on glancing inta 
 
 Ca&. Int. Poc. 11 
 
1G2 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 
 the kaleidoscope of unsanctified human nature and 
 liberated passion turned back discomfited, and sought 
 his home oy the steamer that brought him. If the 
 infernal regions were to be bombarded for this gold, 
 they would pause and consider the matter. Then 
 there were yet those fastened by fate in this magnifi- 
 cent cesspool of tropical putrescence who could get 
 neither way; who having taken their chances of 
 reaching California had lost. Happy indeed would 
 they have been if they could have gone forward in 
 any direction. And there were those, saffron-visagcd 
 skelett)ns, stretched side by side on cots, in the heated 
 rooms of hotels, on whom death had set its seal, with 
 no loved one near to ease the aching limb or wet the 
 parched tongue. 
 
 Passengers in India rubber and oilcloth suits, singly 
 and in aniuli/amated groups of quondam friendships, 
 armed with pistols, guns, knives, umbrellas, and life- 
 preservers, mild-mannered as belted brigands, were on 
 the qui vive lest assassination should add their car- 
 casses to the many significant mounds in the vicinity. 
 Equipped with drinking-cups, pots, kettles, forks, 
 spoons, and air-beds, with stores of meat, bread, 
 brandy, and pills, all were rushing about bargaining, 
 swearing, and whooping, impatient to be off. Bam- 
 boo-faced patrones ranting bad Spanish, in broad- 
 bottomed pantaloons, colored muslin shirts, and broad- 
 brimmed jipijapa hats, with huge cigars in their 
 sensual mouths, having fleets or boats at their 
 connnand, formed the central figure of excited groups, 
 danoes from fifteen to twenty-five feet in length, dujjj 
 from a single log of bay or mahogany, and capable of 
 carrying from four to ten persons with their luggage, 
 could be engaged to Gorgona for from thirty to fifty 
 dollars and a bottle of brandy for the boatmen. The 
 patron usually accompanied his fleet, steering one uf 
 the boats. 
 
 Our boat is engaged — it has an awning to protect 
 
ON THE THE CHAORES RTVER. 
 
 163 
 
 iliips, 
 life- 
 re on 
 • car- 
 inlty. 
 forks, 
 )rea(l, 
 ining, 
 Baiu- 
 road- 
 roacl- 
 thcir 
 their 
 oups. 
 
 ble of 
 
 fiftv 
 
 The 
 
 kne «^'t 
 rotect 
 
 us from alternate sun and rain — our baggage stowed, 
 and we have settled into as comfortable positions i.s 
 our cargo will permit. One glance at the jangling 
 crowd ujwn the bank, and we are off. After all there 
 is something touching in the scene. The steamer we 
 had an idea would bring character to the surface ; but 
 now we find we knew little of our neiy;hbors before 
 they stepped ashore, and assumed their respective 
 parts forthe Isthnms extravaganza. The burly man and 
 loud talker, that we imagine might brave boatmen cr 
 boa constrictors, now pufl's and sweats about the outir 
 edge of a knot of determined actors, among whom tie 
 little quiet boyish-looking fellow, with shoi-t, slight 
 frame, small hand, and delicate features, assumes au- 
 thority as by appointment. In such an emergency 
 mind and resolute daring, of their own inherent vir- 
 tue, form a nucleus round which grosser substance 
 !:!;ravitatcs. Then what a history they have, every 
 one of them. In their outre guise, with all their inor- 
 dinate desires and liberated propensities, their fretful 
 fault-findings, stupid misunderstandings, and morbid 
 restlessness, there is an air of stormy grandeur about 
 tlicm. They are heroes and martyrs, in their way. 
 Have they not left quiet peace for troubled wander- 
 ings, abandoned loving hearts for loneliness ? Have 
 tlioy not for sweet charity's sake blinded their eyes to 
 tlie rosy smiles of children, stopped their ears to tlie 
 passionate sobs of wife and mother and sister, steeled 
 tlieir affections against home and its sanctifying mem- 
 ories, and cast themselves adrift, aye, plunged their 
 souls into a gehenna of hiquietude and stinging battle? 
 
 Two or four or six shining, black, thick-limbed and 
 muscular negroes, uniting with the African wooly 
 hair, and protruding lips, a Moorish aquiline nose, or 
 as many lighter colored, and lighter limbed natives, 
 piopelled the boats up the stream by means of poles, 
 at an average speed of a mile an hour. Taking their 
 stand upon the broadened edges of the canoe on either 
 
' 
 
 164 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 side, one end of their pole upon the bottom of the 
 river, and the other placed aj^ainst their shoulder, 
 smoking with perspiration, their deep chests sending 
 fortli volumes of vapor into the vapory air, their 
 swollen sinews strained to their utmost tension, and 
 keeping time to a sort of grunting stmg, they step 
 steadily along from stem to stern, thus sending the 
 boat rapidly over the water, except where the cur- 
 rent is strong. The middle of the channel, where 
 the water is deep and the current rapid, is avoided as 
 much as possible; yet with every precaution the 
 men frequently miss their purchase and the boat falls 
 back in a few minutes as great a distance as it can re- 
 cover in an hour. Ev3ry now and then, ceasing their 
 work, the swarthy boatmen disrobe with the most im- 
 perturbable sang froid, and wholly insensible to the 
 presence of horror-stricken females, and with perspira- 
 tion streaming down their naked sinewy limbs, cry 
 "banoTand running the bow of the boat into the 
 bank, they fasten it there with the poles and plunge into 
 the stream. Or if overtaken by rain, which here falls 
 with scarcely the slightest warning, they strip them- 
 selves to the last rag of whatever they happen to 
 have on, and rolling up their clothes put them in a 
 dry place until the rain is over. In places poles and 
 paddles are wholly ineffectual, and tlie boatmen are 
 obliged to take to the bank, and tow the boat after 
 them with a rope, or, wading in the water, bear it by 
 main force up the rapids. 
 
 One boat after another is pushed along amid sage re- 
 marks, coarse jests and yells, and the firing of pistols. 
 There is a humorous side to every scene; and this 
 was the side usually uppermost in early Californian 
 times, however trying the ordeal, or incongruous tlio 
 grouping, or dismal the moral shades. To these ad- 
 venturers so lately liberated from the nauseating con- 
 finement of a rolling overcrowded steamer, — not- 
 withstanding the heat and moisture which hung in 
 the air, and folded them about like a wet blanket— 
 
REHUNDANT VEf,ETATIOir. 
 
 160 
 
 ^^ft^ Vr IZf'l- ^^ ^'^-^ ^'-ir J 
 
 "liKi. ii.ki«fc scenes SO .3 ' ^^/'^'^^^ "^ '"u«c]e i.^d 
 toj?etI,erwitI,Ii|>era,n./\- ^"."^ wonderful to tHe . 
 
 tJ'ty spirits; tJ.o;,rJ ' ,,,17'^ ^f '"Jarating eff^^^^ up^.^ 
 '•^^ain to seek rofufe f shh/^i" ^ere quite rS 
 -"the other side. " ^ '^"^^ ^^^^^e they found on^ 
 
 -mountains f in,:ni<.u'^' S^l''''r''^^- ^'« 
 7 • .^''^''y shade of ,rrepn « i ^'^''^"tic, rank, and 
 fl^s with rose-red purnh '. •?"''''^' ^"^ K'i»t nin 
 ''Jf^andpinkin^ndfesst^^^^^^ 
 
 Pahns, thiek-Ieaved rnin ^' i^'i ?^''''^"'^"P^- sS 
 '-""teous bananas arTS'it »'«J-«tii teak and 
 I'^^^asites, whicJ, uZn^t, I^ .""»»««"-Wosscined 
 •^'ndant, mat and uni e Si "f![^^"'^'' ^^««Pi"g, and 
 '/•ace, and <>ver-reac fn . t ^ ^^'"^^ '"^ '^««^ e.n 
 -- ;rge in the gZ^y 't^T'li''' i^^"^« '"^-t 
 ■nf fT ''""^>^ '•"^'ts into the ; f?""''"^' ^^^-ias 
 ^^'»t falling, and weave Jh.; 1 "^* ^^^^^^ to pre- 
 ^roens; bread-fruit hanl in ' ^'^T^'''' "'*« t] iek 
 «"'! piantain pine-ann ^f ^'"^'^ ^^««ters overlie^/ 
 l-i-w ailigatir^ Jtnd "sur"^^^' "-.T ^^'S 
 J'^T spontaneous favors ifT'^"!' ^.^^^^ Profusei; 
 I" f tree in the tropics Tf "? *"^'"^^ "^^tter to 
 "'acl^' a plant-patriarch wlw,"'""* ^'"' ^^^^ng it J 
 ;:;;;ft support a%len'; ;,,^^^^^^^^^ or no\ an 
 
 ^ ^\ and creeping pL2 of «V'''^1^^^«' P^^ple convol. 
 poeies, which^if !sp! Jl f„^^;^«^ every genus and 
 ', ^^f^ parpet coveVin..- a snl. fi ^T"""^ ^'^"^^^ fi>rin 
 J^'^' tree's shadow at nolT ^''^^ *""e« the area of 
 ••••^'st behemothVsmo h; 7; ^^^ ^^^^ at last tJ^e 
 f '^vn by these re ent ess ^ rl . ^.''^^'^' ^"^ ^^4 ed 
 PmliJy buried in broad f^""^^'^'' '*« napless trunk^'s 
 i'^'-hes of spongy Zts i'^f ?^ J^^^^^^ vines an 
 
 Underneath dark yZjlT''^'' ''^'*««^"^«. 
 
 vistas of shadowy colonnade are 
 
.1 
 
 t!. „ 
 
 166 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 tall grasses and tanyflod shrubbery tlirouj'h wliicli 
 wild beasts with difficulty force their way. What in 
 our colder dimes are rare exotics, here riot in the 
 open air, bursting with exuberance. Innumerable 
 flowers of every hue gild the landscape ; the tiny blos- 
 soms of the north spread out in flaming proportions, or 
 assume shapes m which they almost lose their iden- 
 tity, while innumerable species unknown to the north- 
 ern naturalist abound in rank profusion. Chief among 
 these, and one of the most remarkable that blooms in 
 any clime, is the Flor del Espiritu santo, the flower of 
 the holy ghost. Lifting its graceful form from marshy 
 j)ools and decayed logs to a height sometimes of six 
 or .seven feet, it throws out broad lanceolate leaves 
 by })airs from jointed leaf-stalks, while on a leafless 
 flower-stalk springing from the bulb are sometimes 
 ten or fifteen tulip-shaped blossoms of alabaster white- 
 ness, and powerful magnolia perfume, enfolding with- 
 in their tiny cups the prone image of a dove, formed 
 in such consummate grace and synmietry as no art 
 could approach. And with this emblem of imiocence 
 and celestrial purity rising from a sensual jiaradise; 
 with its gentle head bent meekly forward, its ex(|uis- 
 itely shaped pinions hanging listlessly by its sides, its 
 tiny bill, tipped with delicate carmine, ahnost resting 
 on its snow-white breast, in form and feature the v<iy 
 incarnation of ethereal innocence — shall we blame tlie 
 early priests for pointing the poor natives to this 
 flower, and telling them (lod is here? 
 
 Palm trees of various descriptions line the banks, 
 and gorgeous water lilies dip their fragrant heads as 
 tho boat passes over tlusm. Every shower of rain is 
 like the s})rinkling of perfume on the vegetation 
 lairds of richly painted plumage and shrill song ilium 
 inate the forest; the dark, scarlet-breasted toucan, 
 which tosses its food from its long serrated beak int<> 
 the air and catches it in its throat, and in drinking, ns 
 the padres say, makes the sign of the cross, whem • 
 they call it Dios te de, (May God give thee) ; scream 
 
 li^ 
 
ANIMATED NATURE. 
 
 167 
 
 ing parrots, parroquets and flamingoes witli their 
 harsh discordant voices, and black and yellow turpiales, 
 wild turkeys, peacocks, and herons, and multitudes of 
 others, gorgeously feathered and sweet of song, glitter 
 amidst the shadowy green. Chatteihig monkeys leap 
 from tree to tree and swing upoji the pendent vines ; 
 mammoth blue butterflies, brilliant as the rainbow, 
 dance in the sun and rise to match the azure of heaven 
 on wings a hand broad; and humming birds, beautiful 
 as the butterflies, buzz and poise and dart from flower 
 to flower. Myriads of insects with burnished coats of 
 mail sparkle in the air and poo[)le the plants, while 
 all through the day the shrill whistle of the chichana 
 — a kind of green grasshopper — is heard, which begin- 
 ning in a low gurgle, rises into a clear blast like the 
 whistle of a steam engine, and which may be distin- 
 ".•"uished a mile distant. 
 
 Early Sjjanish writers throw up their hands in as- 
 tonishment over the wonders of this land; melons, 
 cucun.bers, and lettuce, say they, ripen in twenty days 
 after they are sown. Fruits and edible roots al)ound 
 in great profusion. The pinea[)ple was considered the 
 most delic ious of all tropical productions. Wild bea.sts 
 and venomous rej»tiles and birds of brillia!;o }.lumage 
 fill the forests. A species of lion, smaller than those 
 of Afri(a was found tliere, as well as fierce leopards 
 and ravenous tigers which easily tear a niau in pieces; 
 deer, fox(\s, hai'i's, raltbits, nniltitudes of dvvB and 
 monkeys, alligators, venomous bati , vij)eis, snakt s, 
 s;*orpions, plieasants, peacocks, parrots, and birds 
 decked in a tlnmsand shades of gay livery, and pour- 
 ing forth swei't melody, all preying one upon another, 
 each fulfilling its mission, to oecujjy and <'njoy tht; 
 bounteous gifts of nature so lavishly placed at their 
 dis[)osal. 
 
 It is a pity so fair a scene should be so foul; that 
 such dark death-clealing plague-spots should be clotted 
 in treacherous beauty ; that quick and ardent nature 
 siiould flood such loveliness with vapors of destruction, 
 
168 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 slioulci breathe into it a breatli of malignant perfume, 
 and give it over to slimy reptiles and ravenous beasts ; 
 to panthers, tigers, leopards and cougars, to long lash- 
 like snakes, and lazy alligators, and poisonous ants, 
 and black stinking cormorants. 
 
 The river here is a clear, but somewhat shallow 
 stream, about fifty yards wide ; its banks at first low 
 and marshy rise into hills as you ascend, and roll off 
 in distant mountains. Now it is full of bongos and 
 canoes coming and going, racing, knocking against 
 each other ; and at every turning of the crooked stream 
 the boatmen's cries and shouts of passengers are heard 
 cheering as they pass. So winding is this river in its 
 course that more than fifty miles are traversed in order 
 to reach a point thirty miles distant. 
 
 On they go, the prospective diggers, panting after 
 a sight of the yellow dross as harts pant for water. 
 To them it was nothing but the nakedness of God's 
 creation, all this wild, weird beauty about them, the 
 glorious <iuivering and play of light and shadow, where 
 the black reflects th(i clifl[s of eternal foliage rising 
 sheer from its very edge. As we ascend, though still 
 tropic, the river scenery becomes more subdued, and 
 the country in i)laces begins to look as if cultivation 
 was b(;ing attem})ted. 
 
 At Dos Hermanos we stop[)ed a little before night 
 for our supper. Before one of the principal eating- 
 houses we found a table spread in the open air, covered 
 with a clean cloth, and attended by a mahogany- 
 colored wc»man, bare to the waist, with a white loobe 
 flowered cotton skirt trimmed with lace, a broad- 
 brimmed Panaiiul hat, and a golden necklace adorned 
 with coins. On her unstockingtd feet were a pair of 
 yellcvv satin slippers, and in her mouth a long large 
 ( itrar. On the table were red earthen iui^s and odd- 
 sirapiul dishes filled with tortillas, dried meat, boiled 
 fi»wl, eggs, fresh rolls, and cofl'ee. 
 
 Scarcely had we started on our way when night 
 
 s 
 
NIGHT ON THE RIVER. 
 
 169 
 
 foil suddenly upon us and the whole heavens were 
 illuminated. Large fireflies glowed like sapphire in 
 their vain endeavor to outshine the stars, which 
 sparkled with almost dazzling brilliancy above them. 
 Behold here a new heaven and a new earth 1 new 
 constellations above and new fruits and flowers below. 
 A torch placed in the bow of the boat cast weird 
 sliadows over the disturbed water, and threw into 
 denser blackness the bordering thickets. Presently 
 the moon came up from behind the mountains of 
 verdure ; and while the swarthy forms of the boatmen 
 marched to their monotonous strains, the tired travel- 
 ler sat silently with cramped legs, or la}- his aching 
 back upon the heaped up luggage and watdud in 
 <lreamy speculation the blazing stars. Passing Ahona 
 Lagarto we spent the whole of the following day 
 toiling up tlie stream under a burning sun, with occa- 
 sional showers of rain, the hot glare upon the water 
 and the steamiiu i itenness on the land beinij at 
 times almost unendui.i»ble ; now and then we landed to 
 rest and eat. The crisp cool morning and evening 
 air, laden with sweet odors from the woodlands, was 
 most refreshing. Part of the next night we laid over 
 iit Barbacoas, a native village with huts of poles and 
 palm-leaves furnished with a mat to stretch on and a 
 liainmock to loll in. and thick with swarms of naked 
 iliildren. Before the tramp of gold-seekers awoke 
 tlieir avarice, centuries came and went, and the dolce 
 far nieiite of the natives, Tike their soft skies and 
 fragrance-breatliing forests, was undisturbed. Too 
 liululgent nature by withholding the necessity r'i- 
 iiu>ved tlie incentive to action. 
 
 The next day we reached (;rorgona, wliich ended 
 our boating and the first stage of the journey across 
 the Isthmus. Two days and nights were usually oc- 
 cupied in accomplishing this distance, portions of the 
 (lays being taken for rest and portions of the nights 
 f .r travel. There were tw(» }»oints on the river where 
 passengers were accustomed to leave their boat and 
 
 ?! ' 
 
no 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 take a mulo trail for Panamii — Gorgoua ar.d Cruccs, 
 the latter beiiit; about six miles froiii the fornier; in- 
 deed, there was a third lauding, Obispo, lying lutween 
 the other two at a shar[) bend in the river. Gorgona 
 is the head of river navigation for six months of the 
 year, namely, from November to April, and Cruces 
 for the other six montlis. The trails from these ditter- 
 cnt points all unite before reaching Panama. 
 
 At Gorgona, that is to say the Place of Rocks, we 
 found a bamboo-built hotel with thatched roof and 
 gr.>und floor, the principal room having round the 
 sides rows of <jrass hanunocks huni; on a frame-work 
 of upriglit [»osts in the form of shelves one over an- 
 other like tlie steerage berths of a steainer. These 
 berths were of sufficient size to acconnnodate an out- 
 stretched man, and one of them I engaged for the 
 niu'ht for one dollar. Evidentlv the landlord knew 
 jiow to keep a hotel. After supper I went out to 
 take a survi^y of the place. The scenery thence is 
 bolder than any I have yet seen on the Isthmus. 
 The town, consisting of about a hundred houses, is 
 built on a high table-land, wlu^nee rise hills and uioun 
 tains on every side, covered with drift-like masses of 
 vegetation moved by the meeting winds from two 
 oceans, and formins.? an amijliitheatre throunh wliich 
 flows tli(> tortuous stream at my feet. Yonder is the 
 crowning peak of (JjUid)ali whtMice, it is said, both 
 the Atlantic and Pacific may be seen from onv. spoL 
 Besides the house in which I. lodged were i\\v <n' six 
 others, some of them of boards, some of a»lobe with 
 tiled roofs, and some of ret.'ds, with largt; signs sueji 
 as "l^nion Hotel," " Hotel Francalse," an<l tlu' like. 
 Ivept mostly by Yankcu' landlords, who appeared ti^ 
 know h(»w to make the most out of the traffic. The 
 earrying tra<ie betwei'ii here and Panama sniarks of 
 Yankee enterprise, as do also the gaming tables wliere 
 the natives lav down their hard-earned dollars. Tlfr- 
 Were also a few stoivs, and an abundance of drinkhi'j 
 saloons and fandan'j-o liou.ses. \io;ht came; on apait 
 
 IL 
 
 ii 
 
OORGONA. 
 
 m 
 
 aiul darkness, falling suddenly when once the glaring 
 sun dropped behind the hills, and soon a blaze of 
 li^ht poured from the hotels, saloons, and gand)ling 
 and dance houses in front, while a thousand moving 
 torches glinnnered in the surrounding darkness, and 
 niingli'<I with the promiscuous mass of l)rut«3 and 
 human life. Kisinj*' in the back<;round was the dark 
 silent wood, and in front the sluo;«j;ish stream, on 
 whose bank this ' ■ strange assemblage had gathered. 
 
 Tlierc was a i, ulango that night; tluae always 
 seems to be one at places of this kind. The (jiorgonan 
 upper ten danced at the alcalde's; the baser sort c»n 
 tJK^ sward beneath a vertical moon. Bvron is riyht 
 in his sarcasm on the chaste moon. It was a half 
 barbaric and wholly volu})tuous dance, and the reward 
 of the danseuse, the most enduring and suggestive, 
 was to ha,'e the hats of the company piled on her 
 head — a doubtful honor considering the headu from 
 which they come. These hats had the advantage 
 over beeliives, that their iidiabitants did not sting. 
 
 liising early next morning, and partaking of a 
 hasty breakfast of beans, salt meat, coarse bhv( k 
 l)read, and cottee without milk, I went out and 
 eneountei'cd a scene similar to that at (ratun, where 
 we had embarked on the river below two days before, 
 e\e» j)t tiiat in the present bargMining nmles took tl.e 
 ]>lace of boats, and th<'re was an absence (»f that wild 
 hilarity which displayed itself innnediately on landing 
 from tli«' steamer. All thi'ough the nigjit boats had 
 been arriving, an<] there \*'ere now a huiidii'd of them 
 and more .sti'unu' siih; bv side at the; lantlin<r. On the 
 low sheK ing .sandy bank were scattered ml»)ers' tents 
 and nativ.' huts, uncovered p!h\s of baggage, miiighd 
 with which were the prostrate forms of unlioused 
 l>ilgrims, landlords, mulct eer>;, and trons))ort contract- 
 ors, w hile up the stee)) embaidvment, rising from tlie 
 rivcr-botton>, were bands of fly-blown hor.ses of the or- 
 (I'-r of lt<isinant'\ neighing to the mournful melody 
 of nmles, and iilling the heavens with their discords. 
 
172 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 ! i« 
 
 To add to the commotion, we here met ^lic main 
 body of returning Californians, on their way from 
 Panamd, to take the steamer which we had left. Some 
 of them were neatly clad, orderly, and quiet ; others, 
 in their shaggy hair and long untrimmed board, 
 guarding with religious care their torn and earth- 
 stained garments, as sacred relics t)f their pilgrimage, 
 were laden with gold-dust, and wore in their bronzed 
 visages the smirk of success; but by far the greater 
 number were disappointed-looking men, poorly dressed, 
 some suflcring from rheun^atism, cri[)pled limbs, and 
 broken constitutions; some with their formerly stal- 
 wart frames shrunken and wasted by fever, and many 
 disheartened, bankrupt wretches, who had been 
 stripped of their all, and were now returning to their 
 homes, scattc^ring curses on California as they wont 
 alonj;. It is a significant fact that the steamer steer- 
 age was better filled on the return trip than on tlie 
 voyage out; and there was more money in the pock- 
 ets and ill the gold-dust belts of the steerage pa'^scn- 
 gers than in those of the cabin passengers. The rea- 
 sons were those: Returning Californians comprised 
 four several classes. First, those who could get home 
 no other way, who could l>arely scrape enough together 
 to buy a stf'^'rage ticket Secondly, those who had 
 money, but who 1im/1 toiled hard for it, were accus- 
 tomed to roughing it, and [u*ferred economizing here 
 that tliey might liave the more hen^after; tliis was a 
 large class. Tlilrdly, inetiicient and impecunious sons 
 or relatives of geiitlenu'n, who were heljted to (Vili- 
 fornia by their friends in the ho})e that they would 
 there develop into sonu'thiiig, and were now, aft( r 
 having made a miserable failure of it, being heijied 
 back to tlieir homes in order to save them from total 
 destruction. Ihese could by no means make up tlielr 
 minds to descend into the depths so long as tlu>v had 
 friends to foot tlieir bills. And fourthly, men of 
 means, whose monev was chieflv in bills of exchain»e. 
 Many miners went home in the steerage armed to the 
 
GOING ANT) RETURNING. 
 
 173 
 
 teeth, and well laden with gold-dust, two or more 
 friends uniting their accumulations, and each in turn 
 guarding their treasure night and day, never leaving 
 it for an instant during the entire trip. This was in 
 order to save the freight, which was then high. They 
 argued if they got through, their money should ; if it 
 was lost, all would go down together. 
 
 Narrowly they eyed one another, the going and the 
 returning, one with interest not unminglcd with ad- 
 miring envy, and the other with an air of superiority, 
 perhaps with contemptuous pity. Ahl the mighty 
 power of gold, in which is condensed all that is bright 
 and beautiful of earth, all that is holy of heaven and 
 hateful of hell, in whose yellow molecules are wrapped 
 all human virtue and passion, that could thus consum- 
 mate this meeting, bringing together from the remotest 
 ends of earth brave men of thought and deed, meeting 
 here in the heart of a tropical wilderness, in the middle 
 of this narrow Isthmus which so provokingly obstructs 
 the world's commerce, on the topmost point, round 
 which revolves the two Americas and the two great 
 oceans, meeting in a pestilential clime, some hurrying 
 one way and some another, some sick to death of gold- 
 seeking, others burning for it! It was not a little 
 curious, the sight, as we stood and watched them 
 there, the outward bound and homeward bound, some 
 with the confident swagger of greenness yet upon 
 them, rude and unacconunodating in their grumbling 
 selfishness, stupid in their perverse independence, aiui 
 surly in their unreasonable opj>osition to order and 
 regulations ; the others, men of like origin and caste, 
 but licked into some degree of form and (*ongruity by 
 their rough experiences, rude and ragged they niay be, 
 but quieter, more subdued, more easily adapting 
 themselves to circumstances, more ready to yield some 
 fancied right for the common good, more humanized 
 uiid harmonious, whether more polished « or n(;t. 
 LiLji.t like that of revelation seems to have broken 
 In upon them during their w;in'J.cr:n;j3, enlijliten- 
 
 'i'l ' 
 
 I . 
 
il:' 
 
 m 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 ing their minds and toning their hearts to new 
 sensibiHties. 
 
 With as little delay as possible our passengers 
 handed their baggage to tht; packers, hired saddle- 
 mules, paying from ten to twenty dollars for a beast 
 to Panamd, and mounting, filed off into the narrow 
 path that marked the way. Some of the women 
 donned man's apparel, and rode man-wise ; others 
 accepted a compromise, and followed Mrs Amelia 
 Bloomer, who cut off her skirts and paraded the streets 
 of New York in short clothes first in 1849, just in 
 time for the California-going sisterhood to adoi)t that 
 costume on the Isthnms; others refused in any wise 
 to molest the sacred limits of their })etticoats, prefer- 
 ring to die rather than to outrage modesty, shame 
 tho sex, and exhibit their larsje ankles even to tlie 
 barbarians, among whom he who wore the least cloth- 
 iwiX was most in fashion, nakedness absolute beiny; full 
 dress. Children were seated iti chairs strapped to tlie 
 backs of natives ; luggage was also carried lashed to 
 the backs of porters. For so supposedly enervating a 
 climate, the loads these natives, negroes and mongrels, 
 are capable of carrying is surprising. I was told thut 
 some of tliem frequently packed on their backs 2C0 
 pounds from Gorgona to Pananul, twenty-five miles, 
 in a day and a half. Many of the passengers engaged, 
 these men to carry their efiects, antl made the journey 
 with them on foot. 
 
 There was no wagon road across the Isthnms, and 
 the trail from Gorgona, though not so broken as that 
 from Cruces, was rough in the extreme, and led 
 tlirough a greatly diversified country. Two miles 
 brouLjht us across the table land, when we entered a 
 dense forest, from which tlie sun was wholly excludiMl 
 by tho overhanging branches. Thence we ft)llowe<l 
 the path successively over soft, uneven ground, througli 
 shady canons, and mountain chasms nmrky in their 
 gloomy solitude, up and round precipitous hillsides 
 cut by travel into steps and stairs, on which and hito 
 
THE ISTHMUS LAND JOURNEY. 
 
 well-worn holes the careful and sagacious animal placed 
 his foot tenderly, knowing that an inch or two on the 
 wrong side of it would send him sliding down the steep 
 slope. Now we would be under a canopy of creepers 
 trellised with palms, now winding through a valley of 
 impervious undergrowth, rustling with serpents, in- 
 sects, and birds, and then out into the broad, open, 
 l)urning plain, crossing turbid streams and mountain 
 rills, wading some filthy morass, rounding rocky cliffs, 
 and exposed alternately to sun and rain. Descending 
 with slow and cautious step the steep declivities from 
 the little spot of table-land round (Jorgona, then as- 
 cending and descending attain and again until tierra 
 caliento is reached, the scenery is ever changing, now 
 capti> ating with its beaut}, and now thrilling with 
 its Magnificence. Often we passed through ravines 
 which had been washed out by the rain, and so 
 narrow at the bottom that on entering at either end 
 I)orsons nmst shout in order to notify others wish- 
 ing to come from the opposite direction. Hearnig 
 the whoops of muleteers within, we were often ol)lig(>d 
 to wait until they should emerge, when we could enter, 
 and shout for those coming from the opposite direction 
 to wait their turn. Some of these gullies have lu'eii 
 worn down thirty feet and more by centuries of travi'l, 
 and are so narrow at the bottom that a loaded mule 
 can barely get through. Often wlu>n travellers met, 
 one would have to turn back ; and again, when caught 
 in tight places, horsemen would draw uj) their legs, 
 and so lot tlie animals squeeze past each other, wlien 
 this could be done. All along the way crosses marked 
 the resting-place of those overtaken by fever or assas- 
 sin, while tlie murderer himself found unsanctificd 
 .sojjulchre beneath a ]iile of stones at the cross-roads. 
 Every now and then we would stop to rest at a way- 
 side rancheria, where bread, warm water, and vile 
 liquors were sold at exorbitant prices. Then there 
 Avere more pretentious houses where the belated trav- 
 eller could spend the night, the " Halfway House " and 
 
 «• I i ^! 
 
170 
 
 THE VOYAOE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 the " True Half-way House " kept by Europeans or 
 Ainericaiis, Tea and coftee were plentiful along the 
 route, but milk was scarce. The water of the Isth- 
 mus, for drinking purposes, early acquired a bad name ; 
 its effects were said to be extremely delet(;rious, espe- 
 cially on Europeans. The distaste, thus or other- 
 wise arising for this fluid, so fastened itself on many 
 of the pilgrims that it never afterward left them ; for 
 on arriving in California they seemed to prefer strych- 
 iime whiskey even to the melted snow of the Sierra. 
 As a matter of fact, water, and nothing else, taken 
 simringly will carry one through fatigue and inhospit- 
 able climates better than any stimulant. In crossing 
 the Isthnms thousands have killed themselves, or 
 planted the seeds of disease, under the excuse that 
 water was pernicious. 
 
 In ancient times there was a trail from Panamsl to 
 Cruces, paved with large round stones from six to 
 eighteen inches in diameter. In places it was three 
 feet wide. It overlaid all the softer ground, and con- 
 nected with the rocky defiles and hillside shelves, where 
 it frequently narrowed to a foot in width. Near Pa- 
 namsl it widened yet more and was kej)t in tolerable 
 repair, but the upper end was dilapidated and almost 
 useless, being washed away by flood, or cut under or 
 broken sheer asunder by torrents, so as to leave it in 
 pieces high above the sunken bottom of a ravine. 
 Over tnese disordered heaps of smooth stones minglefl 
 with soft deep nmd, the poor heavily laden nmle was 
 obliged to stumble, and the wonder was how he ever 
 got through at all. Though not as comely as the beau- 
 tiful beasts of Europe, these mules, with their limbp ui 
 steel, show a more marvellous dexterity, risking 
 their feet with confidence, as if by instinct or memory, 
 in dangerous places. There is no necessity for diret t- 
 ing the animal you ride ; give him his head and let 
 him go, and when you get to Panamd get off" and give 
 him the bridle ; the master is not far awav. Tlu^ Gor- 
 goua trail strikes the ancient road some seven or eigla 
 
«'o northern ocean tlio t ^ "."^ ''''»■•' f'c river (,. 
 ;""v«yod for eentiries Ij . " "?'« »'""' S^^^was 
 « seen g„|,| trains ami' =°i ™" *" "'« «lav wcr. T 
 
 «'-'.'fKlitterinr„Xl:^^Xl'r';r *'"' ^~^ 
 '•"liimoned mures wit ,^;„ r I''" ^"''"•'S of rielWv 
 
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178 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 European city now standing on the mainland of the 
 two Americas. 
 
 In tlie year 1515, tlie story goes, Pedrarias Ddvila, 
 governor of Castilla del Oro, despatched from Santa 
 Maria de la Antigua del Darien, the first settlement 
 of the Spaniards on the n?ainland of America, situated 
 on the gulf of Darien, then called Urabd, but whose 
 traces are now wholly obliterated, Antonio Tello de 
 Guzman, a native of Toledo, with one hundred men, 
 and instructions to cross the Isthmus to the South Sea, 
 and establish there a settlement from which to prose- 
 cute discoveries along the shores of the Pacific, After 
 several conflicts with the natives the journey was ac- 
 complished. As he approached the borders of the 
 southern sea, Tello de Guzman heard much of a place 
 called by the natives Panamd, famous, as the Spaniards 
 supposed, for its wealth ; but in truth, only a collection 
 of fishermen's huts, the name signifying in the aborig- 
 inal tongue, "a place where many fish aie taken." 
 
 This was the discovery and origin of the site of old 
 Pananiii ; and although nothing further was accom- 
 plished toward a settlement during this expedition, 
 subsequently, from the reports given by Tello de 
 Guzman, Pedrarias founded the metropolis of his 
 government. There, after the chivalrous Vasco 
 Nunez and liis comrades had been belieaded at Ada, 
 the surly old governor quarrelled with Oviedo, and 
 plotted against his best friends. Thence Pedrarias 
 proceeded to pacify Nicaragua, and thence Francisco 
 Pizarro and his bloody crew sailed for the conquest 
 of Peru. "Very noble and very loyal" Charles V. 
 called the town in those days, meaning thereby very 
 nmcli gold, very much goldl Now the spot is so si- 
 lent and dead, so crumbled and fc^rest-encloscd, that on 
 one side you may pass within ten steps of its ancient 
 walls and discover no city, while from the bay a soli- 
 tary ivy-covered tower is seen, which marks the tomb 
 of crumbled splendor scattered round its base. In 
 1671 the buccaneers under Henry Morgan, sacked 
 
 *-^ 
 
THE OLD AND THE NEW. 
 
 179 
 
 and burned old Panarnd, and it was then determined 
 to choose a healthier site before rebuilding the city. 
 
 The old city boasted its palatial houses of cedar, 
 adorned with paintings and rich hangings, its cathe- 
 dral and other fine churches ; its eight convents, with 
 their costly altar-pieces and gold and silver orna- 
 ments; its 2000 dwellings tenanted by wealthy mer- 
 chants, and 5000 by lesser tradesmen; its royal 
 stables, and beautiful gardens, and fertile fields; and 
 the new city was built upon a scale of yet grander 
 magnificence. But with the decline of Spanish 
 power in the new world, Panamd fell. The vast trade 
 U[)on the Pacific, extending frt)m Chili to CaHfornia, 
 and across to the Philippine islands, which brought to 
 anchor in her harbor galleys laden with tlie gold and 
 silver of America, and the rich stuffs and spices of 
 India, and filled her store-houses, and made her mer- 
 chants princes, became scattered. The city sank into 
 a lethargy from which it was partially awakened by 
 the shouts and pistol-shots of a new race of gold-seek- 
 ers. But Ichalx^d was too deeply graven on her door- 
 posts. The glory of despotism and fanaticism had 
 departed; and even in the momentary awakening in- 
 cident to the Californian emigration the principal 
 traffic was in the hands of Anglo-Americans. 
 
 As com[)ared with its ancient grandeur Panamd, 
 until the construction of the ship canal was fairly 
 under way, presented a melancholy ap])earance. The 
 city is built on a rocky peninsula which juts out some 
 quarter of a mile from the base of the Ancon hill 
 into a broad, peaceful, isle-dotted bay. Across this 
 peninsula from beach to beach, extend streets, inter- 
 sected at right angles by other and broader streets, 
 which invite currents of air, and most of which are 
 well paved. On approaching the city from any tlirec- 
 tion, the dilapidated fortifications, and cathedral tow- 
 ers, and high, tiled roofs attract the first attention. 
 The houses are built of stone, wood, and adobe; most 
 of them are two stories in height, some three, with 
 
 f 1 ''' : 
 
180 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 
 courts or patios, and verandas round the upper stories, 
 beneath which one may walk during a rain over 
 nearly the whole town without getting wet. The 
 style of church architecture is sui generis, Hispano- 
 American if you like, common to the cathedrals and 
 missions throughout the whole Pacific States; adobe, 
 stone, and stucco thrown together in quaint irregular 
 piles. Some of the principal churches and many of 
 the buildings were in ruins, the roots of ravenous 
 plants boring into the crevices, dislocating the stone, 
 and tearing down the huge walls. The grand old 
 cathedral, however, remained, fronting on the plaza as 
 all cathedrals do, with its towers filled with bells, and 
 mosses and creepers covering its crumbling walls; 
 beside which there were at the time I first visited the 
 city, a college, a nunnery, and four convents. The 
 cathedral would hold four thousand persons ; the roof 
 was supported by large pillars ; round the altar was a 
 profusion of silver ornaments, and flat on the floor 
 were scores of marble slabs on which were graven 
 the virtues of the holy remains resting beneath. 
 The twelve apostles in marble occupied twelve niches 
 in the end toward the plaza. Bats and lizards in- 
 fested the building and disputed with worshippers the 
 right of occupation. Pictures adorned the walls and 
 shrines were placed at intervals around the interior. 
 Over the crucifix of the high altar presided a large 
 silver stork with her young. 
 
 Throughout the city pearl-oyster shells glittered 
 from steeples and pinnacles, and from the turreted 
 bell-towers at the street corners, every morning at 
 sunrise, came discordant peals, accompanied by the 
 clang of cathedral bells, filling the streets with pious 
 worshippers slowly and silently wending their way to 
 church. On feast days which were many, the city 
 flaunted her bravest finery, and looked not unlike a 
 wrinkled beldame in gaudy attire. Gaily dressed 
 men and women, proudly sporting their Spanish cloaks, 
 uad darker-skinned natives in white costumes, marched 
 
PRIESTS AND PEOPLR 
 
 181 
 
 the streets from one bedizened altar to another, while 
 the shaven priest with his peculiar hat, long black 
 robe with bnght satin hning, small clothes fastened 
 at the knee with golden buckles, white silk stockings, 
 slippered feet, and cigar, surveyed with zealous inter- 
 est the effect of his enlightened teachings. 
 
 But on all days were seen stealthy coffee-colored 
 men with thin sinewy limbs; stealthy half-naked 
 women with twinkling jet eyes and bronze bust glis- 
 tening in the palpitating light; girls and boys sur- 
 rounded with cocoanuts, oranges, and limes, bananas, 
 eggs, and flowers of shell work. There were avenues 
 of fruit and vegetable stalls ; while through the open 
 doors under the veranda the more aristocratic traf- 
 fickers displayed their dry goods, groceries, and liquors. 
 
 The main streets in the central part of the city 
 were lined with hotels, shops, and gambling saloons, 
 newly whitewashed and adorned with flaming sign- 
 boards in English vocables, while on nearly every 
 other house waved the stars and stripes. This busy 
 renovated centre was flanked by crumbling vine-clad 
 walls and mouldering ruins. In its palmy days the 
 two sides of the town facing the sea were protected by 
 batteries, and the sides toward the land by a hij^h 
 wall with watch-towers and moat. The bastions 
 were constructed at different times as necessity de- 
 manded, and presented an irregular appearance ; and 
 though the walls were high the fortifications were not 
 strong. Panamd. was divided into two parishes, one, 
 the city proper, lying within the wall, and called 
 San Felipe, the other, that portion without the wall 
 called Santa Ana. Two large gates opened toward 
 the sea and two toward the land; the latter once 
 strongly fortified were entered by drawbridges. The 
 popular promenade was the rampart, round whose 
 tottering walls and ragged turrets were scattered the 
 (lismantled guns of brass, so richly wrought and so 
 carefully embossed by the great foundries of Barcelona. 
 
 The private houses of San Felipe were mostly of 
 
 ; .IM 
 
 m 
 
BU 
 
 182 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 stone, those of Santa Ana of wood. They had tiled 
 roofs, unglazed windows, small halls, with doorways 
 large enough to admit a man on horseback, through 
 which the air might circulate freely. The heavy 
 wooden balconies, which were universal, served at 
 once for all possible purposes. One would there place 
 his kitchen, another his laundry, another his bath- 
 room; they were likewise used for reception roor\, 
 garden, and promenade. The family living in tlie 
 upper apartments, the ground floor was usually let for 
 shops or manufacturing puqioses, or, it may be, occu- 
 pied by servants. Santa Ana was composed of a 
 poorer population, mechanics and laborers, and thcbe 
 arranged their households as best they could, some 
 living with rats, pigs, and chickens in a style inferior 
 to that found in the villatjcs of the natives. Houses 
 decayed rapidly, and owners and tenants alike appearc d 
 averse to making repairs. Scmietimcs the dirty walls 
 were whitewashed at the beginning of the dry season, 
 and the holes of the comejcn-eaten woodwork filled 
 with green paint, but often doors and balconies were 
 left unwashed and unpainted. Water was brought on 
 mules from a river three miles distant, and emptied 
 into porous jars placed in niches in front of the bett( r 
 houses, where it was kept cool by evaporation. The 
 rooms of the city houses were usually large and airy, 
 the ceilings high and unlined; they had no chimneys, 
 cooking being done in the court-yard, or on the floor 
 or stone table of the kitchen. In most of tlie rooms 
 were hammocks, in which lazy men and loosely robed 
 women lounged away the time. 
 
 All sorts of costumes were worn by men and women 
 of every mingled shade of color, Caucasian, American, 
 and African. The native female was satisfied with a 
 simple skirt; the creole loved a white cotton skirt 
 flounced and trimmed with lace, with low, loose, 
 sleeveless waist, leather or satin slippers, anda jipijapa 
 hat ; the Spanish gentleman who had not yet adopted 
 European fashions delighted in white linen pantaloons 
 
DRESg. 
 
 183 
 
 and vest, a loose coat of the thinnest material, and a 
 broad brimmed jipijapa hat of fine texture; while the 
 African, breeched or mibrcechcd, broiled in simplicity 
 unconstrained. The nationality of foreigners disap- 
 peared under the hizarreric of their accoutrements; 
 the gentleman gold-hunter found a woollen shirt, 
 cotton pantaloons, and straw hat very comfortable. 
 Jipijapa hats, commonly called Panamit hats, are not 
 made in Panamil, but in Peru and elsewhere. They 
 might be had for two or three dollars, and up to fifty, 
 and even more. The Spanish crcolc gentleman, who 
 is usually slight but wiry, in complexion sallow, with 
 black hair and eyes, and always a moustache, if his 
 purse permitted would wear white pants, and appear 
 to the best advantage. There was no lack of beauty 
 shining from the half veiled faces of the sciioritas, 
 with their white dresses, in red and yellow ribbon 
 trimmin<^s, and bright colored slippers often covering 
 stockinglcss feet. The dress of the better class was 
 at this time becoming European, black being the pre- 
 vailing color. 
 
 The population of the Isthmus consisted mostly of 
 natives. Some parts of the country had not been 
 conquered, and several of those conquered had been 
 abandoned by the conquerors, who found it beyond 
 their power to occupy them and subdue nature, even 
 if unmolested or assisted by the Indians. Besides 
 Indian and African, and Indian and Spanish inter- 
 mixtures, Spanish was infinitely crossed with African, 
 of which Carib blood was then most prominent. These 
 remarks refer especially to the coast region. In the 
 interior departments, like that of Chiriqui, a purer 
 white element predominated then as now. The most 
 dangerous characters were the vagabonds from the 
 shores of the Antilles, who had been drawn to the 
 Isthmus since the Californian passenger trafldc com- 
 menced. Tlie government, not having the means to 
 support a sufficiently large police force, such as the 
 existing circumstances demanded, authorized the rail- 
 
 li'UiJ 
 
 :'i 
 
If 
 
 184 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 w I 
 
 road company to assume the protection of life and 
 property on the transit, with power virtually to inflict 
 condign punishment on criminals. The force organ- 
 ized while the railway was being built consisted ef 
 forty men, motley in color, costume, and character, 
 but very efficient, and was under the command of a 
 delicate, boyish-looking, but most energetic Texan 
 ranger, named Ran Runnels. Though this force had 
 no jurisdiction in the city of Panamd, it occasionally 
 made arrests of desperate characters within the walls, 
 the criminals receiving their punishment without. 
 This irregularity was winked at by the authorities. 
 In a short time the Isthmus was free of the numerous 
 malefactors, which had been drawn from all parts of 
 the world to prey upon travellers crossing from ocean 
 to ocean. 
 
 The climate of the Isthmus is very hot on the 
 coasts, but on the sides of the mountains in the interior 
 it is comparatively cool and healthy. The city of 
 Panamd is the healthiest sea-board spot in this region, 
 miasmatic fever being prevalent almost everywhere 
 else. Besides standing out in the sea as it does, the 
 waters of the ocean playing upon three sides of it, 
 and from \\hich it receives breezes opposing the 
 insalubrious air of the interior, there stands the hill 
 Ancon at the rear of the peninsula, forming a natural 
 barrier ,to the poison-breathing swamps of the Rio 
 Grande beyond. With proper care, and avoiding the 
 abuse of spirituous liquors, a foreigner may safely live 
 in Panamd the year round; indeed, during the dry 
 season, which is from the middle of December to the 
 middle of May, with the strong northerly winds which 
 then prevail, and the absence of heavy rains, the cli- 
 mate is both delightful and wholesome. 
 
 The bay of Panamd is a picture of languid beauty. 
 It is large and open, yet well protected, but so shal- 
 low near the town that large vessels are obliged to 
 anchor two or three miles off shore. On one side is 
 the sea into which it opens, spreading out for ten 
 
SCENERY. 
 
 185 
 
 thousand miles, north, south, and west, rolling up the 
 bay for ninety miles its slow, strong, eternal swells, 
 while in the background banks of dark green foliage 
 rise from the white sandy beach, and swelling Into 
 hills and mountains, disappear in the distant clouds. 
 Pyramids of green verdure, made purple by distance, 
 rise from the azure sea, and mingle with the azure 
 heavens. Looking southward from the fortifications 
 you see Flamenco, Perico, and Llenao or Islanao, and 
 beyond some three leagues away is the island of Ta- 
 boga, near which the coaling vessels rest at an- 
 chor. The island is about a mile and a half 
 long by half a mile wide, and has its semi-European 
 town, and its native population, with their hamlets of 
 bamboo huts. Far away toward the east, over indo- 
 lent waters reflecting the blue sky, the sun's glare 
 softened by the breath of summer mists, past little 
 paradises of brilliant green seemingly floating on the 
 placid surface w^hich mirrors their foliage, are the 
 Pearl islands, where Vasco Nunez and his crew an- 
 chored the ships which they had brought with so 
 much labor and peril across this formidable Isthmus. 
 On the island of San Miguel, the largest of the Pearl 
 archipelago, is situated the town of the same name, 
 where the unbreeched natives used to deck their tawny 
 skin with gems that would make the eyes of a city 
 belle sparkle with delight, and ebony pearl merchants 
 displayed their wares, haggling in the sale of them 
 with all the cultivated cunning of a Jew. 
 
 Panamd, patched and whitewashed under the new 
 rdgime ofl'ercd a seemingly grand array of comforts 
 after our late privations. At the hotel we found cot 
 beds, one to a man, although there were many men 
 to a room. Here was a new field for fretting and 
 brain-whetting, and well the gold hunters improved 
 the opportunity. The streets were crowded day and 
 night with Californian emigrants. Outside the town 
 were encampments of them, apparently as comforta- 
 
 IT, ; i! 1 
 

 186 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 ! 
 
 blc in their tents as were their brethren in the ex- 
 pensive city hotels. 
 
 Here, waituig and watching, some of them for 
 weeks and iiionths, for an opportunity to get away, 
 tliey continued the process of moral declination and 
 decivilization. Fledglings fresh from their mothers, 
 little mammon-dried men, and tall hairy fellows, 
 armed to the teeth and streaming with perspira- 
 tion, strolled about the streets, watching the fruit- 
 venders, and water-carriers, ogling the bare-breasted 
 girls, pricing hats, looking wistfully at the tempting 
 catalogue of iced drinks througli the open doors of 
 the saloons; or, entering the churches, they would 
 stalk about the isles, peer into tlie nmsty confessional 
 boxes and thrust their impious fingers through the 
 lattice, push their way into secret corners, invade the 
 precincts of the altar and profanely handle the orna- 
 ments, and sneer, in their superior conceptions of 
 God- worship, at all this clap-trap of the devil, as they 
 called it. 
 
 Some few of the aspirino sort studied Spanish, or 
 essayed some knowledge of the history of crumbling 
 relics ; some played billiards, or gambled, or got 
 drunk ; some fished, gathered shells, braved the 
 sharks and bathed, hunted monkeys and parroquets, 
 or sat under old vine-clad walls gazing at the hum- 
 ming birds as they buzzed about the flowers. Some 
 died of fever; others killed themselves by drinking 
 villainous liqu.fs, eating excessively of fruit, or by 
 overdosing with pills, patent medicines, cholera pre- 
 ventives, and like supposed antidotes to supposed 
 impending disease. Once seized with sickness and 
 without a faithful comrade, a man's chance for recov- 
 ery was small ; for already a coating of callous indif- 
 ference to the sufferings of others seemed to be 
 enclosing the hearts of many of these adventurers, 
 and a pale fever-stricken stranger was too often 
 shunned like a leper. 
 
 The morning after our arrival, and for days there- 
 
YANKKE SWINDLERS. 
 
 187 
 
 after, we were in tribulation about our baggage, 
 which the packers failed to deliver as they had i)r<)in- 
 ised. Gradually the truth dawned upon us that this 
 was one of the tricks of the tratle ; and when after 
 waitin*; a week, and considering the distance from 
 Gorgona was only twenty-five miles, which couhl bo 
 easily made in a day and a night, when we and many 
 others were obliged to go forward without our bag- 
 gage, we were satisfied, as we afterward learned t' lu^ 
 the truth, that we had been systematically swindled. 
 The fact was that civilization, under the impulse of the 
 gold-fever, had so tinctured this Isthmian wilderness 
 as to have overturned the influence of the simple- 
 minded savage, thus giving up travellers to men 
 more rapacious than beasts, which will not prey 
 upon their kind. At Chagres and on the river, 
 transportation had been left mainly to Creoles and 
 natives, as the occupation was too hazardous to health 
 for the shrewd northerners to undertake it ; but Gor- 
 gona and Panarad, were comparatively healthy, and 
 here sharpers might take their stand and levy toll. 
 The native and mongrel races were not bad enou<j:h 
 nor bold enough for the situation. These could prac- 
 tise extortion on a small scale, but the cocking of a 
 pistol or the flash of a knife-blade usually brought 
 reparation. Here indeed was a field for nobler talent. 
 Hitherto, and for the last three centuries, dark- 
 skinned carriers had been content to appropriate only 
 a part of the effects committed to their care, and col- 
 lect freight on the portion delivered ; but for the dt)uble- 
 edged son of a higher order of culture and broader 
 views such dealings were too tame. So he instituted 
 a reform, weiLjhed bagijaoe at Gorijona or Cruces, 
 and collected the frciglit in advance, ten or fifteen 
 cents a pound to Panamd, then he could deliver such 
 j)ortions as policy dictated, and keep the remainder 
 having secured the freight on it in advance in case it 
 should prove not worth the transportation. This 
 system I afterward learned from sources unquestiona- 
 
188 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 ble, had been regularly practised by men appearing 
 to be New Englanders and New Yorkers from the es- 
 tablishment of the steamship line. Passengers as a 
 rule were helpless ; for when the steamer was ready, 
 they were obliged to go on board, and their baggage 
 was not worth the cost of hunting it. From the 
 first appearance of foreign travellers in these f arts, it 
 has been a notorious fact, and of current remark, that 
 of all robbers and swindlers on the Isthmus white 
 men were the worst, and compared to them the na- 
 tives were humane, faithful, and honest. 
 
 The steamers here took in coal and provisions, beef, 
 fowl, and swine, flour and general groceries, oranges, 
 pineapples, citrons and bananas, and liquors of all sorts. 
 Quite a traffic was sometimes done here in tickets by 
 brokers; some, to save, would sell their steamer 
 ticket and take passage on a sailing vessel, which they 
 afterward too often found of that class whose captain 
 and officers were accustomed to take in so much wine 
 and spirits that they would forget to take in any 
 water. 
 
 After a week's detention the steamer Panamd an- 
 nounced her readiness to receive passengers, of which 
 opportunity we all made qui^k avail. With our ef- 
 fects shrunken to the easy c« .npass of our hands, we 
 left our hotel, walked down the street, and out through 
 the great gate, to the shore of the bay. There we 
 found stationed just beyond the surf that broke upon 
 the white beach, a row of boats ready to convey pas- 
 sengers to the steamer, with porters and boatmen to 
 carry us through the foam to the boat. Wading to 
 the edge of the water the boatmen would stoop their 
 ebony shoulders and back up to us invitingly. Women 
 were picked up in their arms, and handled most ten- 
 derly for such sooty savages. Sometimes stepping on 
 a slippery stone, down man and rider would both go 
 into the brine, amidst the shouts of the lookers-on. 
 But this happened very seldom ; the wide, bare, 
 leathery feet of the carriers were usually quite sure. 
 
REGENERATION AND BAPTISM. 189 
 
 Mounting a naked broad back, we were carried 
 through the surf, dumped into the boat and rowed to 
 the ship. On arriving at the gangway, we were 
 obHged to show our tickets, every species of trickery 
 being resorted to by a certain class on shore to get 
 themselves forward without paying their passage. 
 The passengers then formed themselves into a line 
 before the purser's office window, and when all were 
 on board rooms and berths were allotted. 
 
 Thus in this Isthmus transit, we find the history of 
 every man who made it a unique experience, wiich 
 acted powerully upon the recasting of his charactor — 
 a fit preparation for the baptism which was to follow 
 his landing in Califoruiat 
 
I )l 
 
 CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 TlfE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA-PANjVMA TO SAN FRANCISCO, 
 
 We have had enough of action, and of motion wc, 
 
 KiiUetl to starWoard, rolled to larlioard, wlicn the surge was seething free, 
 Vlierc the wallowing mounter sjjuuted his foam-fountanis in tlie sea. 
 
 — The LotoH-Enters. 
 
 !!; ! 
 
 While hero upon the Isthmus, and before proceed- 
 ing on our journey to San Franrisco, let us glance at 
 tlie route round the continent, that we may be better 
 able to make comparisons as we go along. 
 
 Tliere have been many remarkable voyages to Cal- 
 ifornia by sailing v(\ssels, as well from Panaiiui to San 
 Francisco as round Cape Horn; there have been 
 many adventures connected with them far more thrill- 
 ing than any that occurred in the voy.ages by steamer. 
 Tlie voyage round the Horn, as it was called, did not 
 differ materially from sea voyages elsewhere; that 
 from Panama to San Francisco had at this time a 
 marked individuality, a few exami)les of which I will 
 give. 
 
 The rickety schooner Dolphin, of 100 tons, left Pa- 
 nanul in January 1841), with forty-five persons. After 
 putting into several ports for sup[)lies, the passengers 
 had to abandon the craft at Mazatlan and transfer 
 themselves to the bark Matilda. They finally readied 
 San Francisco on the 6th of May, having spent 110 
 davs on the vt)vaije from Panamd. 
 
 But the career of the DoJpJiin was not yet at an 
 end. Certain gold-seeking ""vaifs then in Mazatlan, 
 anxious to reach California, bought and refitted her. 
 
 (I'JO) 
 
SAILING VESSELS. 
 
 m 
 
 She sailed on the 15th of April with no less than six- 
 ty-eight persons, among whom were some who in lat- 
 ter years acquired more or less distinction in California. 
 In the course of tlie voyage tliey underwent much 
 sufterhig, scarcity of water contributing thereto. A 
 number of the company, driven to desp(!ration, landed 
 in Lower California, and made their way north on 
 foot. Reacliing Rosario with the greatest diliicult}', 
 they siglited two vessels, one tlie Dolphhi. and tlie 
 otlier an Italian bark. The latter took some of tlic 
 schooner's passengers away witli her, and a few of tlie 
 land party returned to their own old craft, the rest 
 preferring to continue their journey up the C( )ast. The 
 latter after undergoing many hardships reached San 
 Diego on the 24th of June. As for the l)()/j>lii)i, she 
 went into San Diego harbor in a sinking condition, and 
 was condemned and sold without more ado. One of 
 her ])assenger3 had died on the voyage. 
 
 The vicissitudes of a party on board the schooner 
 San iilase'ia, of thirty-five tons, which sailed from 
 IMazatlan in May of the same year, were in many re- 
 spects the counteri)art of those suffered by the Jhl- 
 y>///yi',9 people. Some of their number wtu-e taken off 
 by another vessel at sea; the rest abandoned tlie craft 
 on the coast of Lower California, and made their way 
 on foot, carrying their effects on their backs, to Todt)S 
 Santos, where they procured mules, ind on the 24th 
 of May set out for La Paz. On the journeys they 
 suffered greatly for want of provisions and water. 
 Finally, on the 1 1th of August, they fell in with 
 lOniory's surveying pai-ty at the initial point of the 
 l\lexican boundary line. Meanwhile the San lllamia 
 If ft San Jose del Cabo, and completed her vovai^e at 
 Monterey, after the manner of the Dolphin, on the 1st 
 of July. 
 
 Another of the land journeys tip the peninsula was 
 that of J, W. Venable, who came from Kentucky via 
 l*anamd in 1841), and was a member of the state as- 
 sembly from Los Angeles in 1873, and who travelled 
 
 Ifi. 
 
192 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 1 
 
 on foot with two or three companions from Agua 
 Dulce, on the coast of Lower CaUfornia, to San Fran- 
 cisco, about twelve hundred miles. They had been 
 obliged to land by reason of the slowness of their ship, 
 scarcity of wa.^r, and stubbornness of their captain. 
 They arrived at San Francisco before the ship. 
 The latter took 166 days for the trip. 
 
 But even crazy sailing vessels were better than 
 dug-out canoes, in which some started on the long 
 voyage from Panamd to San Francisco. Bayard 
 Taylor states that in the early part of 1849, when 
 three thousand persons were waiting on the Isthmus 
 for conveyance to the new El Dorado, several small 
 parties started in log canoes of the natives, thinking 
 to reach San Francisco in them. After a voyage of 
 forty days, during which they went no farther than 
 the island of Quibo, at the mouth of the gulf, nearly 
 all of them returned. Of the rest, nothing was ever 
 heard. On other authority, we are informed that 
 twenty-three men left Panamd on the 29th of May, 
 1849, in a dug-out canoe, for San Francisco. None 
 of these madmen ever proceeded far on the road; 
 neither did many of them ever return. 
 
 Returning to our voyage by steamer. "Ah!" ex- 
 claims the enthusiastic lover of California, immediately 
 his foot touches the well-scrubbed deck of the Pacific 
 Mail steamer in Panamd bay, "such is California, 
 such the superiority of the new over the old. As the 
 Atlantic st-jamer is to the Pacific steamer, as Aspin- 
 wall is to Panamd, so is your cold, dull, eastern coast 
 to our warm, bright, western coast." 
 
 In due time a steam tender conveyed travellers 
 from the company's wharf to the steamer at anchor 
 some three miles away. On account of the tide, 
 which rises and falls about seventeen feet at neap, 
 and twenty-two feet at spring tides, the tender can 
 float at the wharf only twice in twenty-four hours. 
 Low water spring tides lay bare the beach for a mile 
 
 and 
 
 ofti 
 
 tics, 
 
 trail) 
 
 then 
 
 soon 
 
 adop; 
 
 on til 
 
 oftlu 
 
 .steam 
 
 ticket 
 
 on bo; 
 
 v.rty 
 
 rocurr 
 
 Califoi 
 
 (lotonti 
 
 sciigerf 
 
 a 
 
 of the 
 <'aino 
 
 ( 
 
 "lljoy i 
 
 sense o 
 
 the est 
 
 TJiere i 
 
 Isthmus 
 
 the trav 
 
 Much 
 
 than on 
 
 an; large 
 
 passenge 
 
 «pwt it s 
 
 til is reeni 
 
 sliakiiicr I 
 
 so many i 
 
 Loungi 
 
 tlio upper 
 
 j'l all its s 
 
 ^vith the t 
 
 surface ol 
 
 distance, t 
 
 t'AU 
 
I^E-EMBARKATION AT PanamX. 
 
 then stepped fr„„, «,? ca„ t fi**"/'"", • l^^se.ifrora 
 S'|on on board the steanr TJ u '"''"'■' "'"' '"-'■« 
 adopte<l ,„ consoquence f *'i 'f '"■••a"genient was 
 "" the 15th of Anrn 18.?fi l^ •''""' "'»<=S broke Z 
 'f the armbal a.sii?ed 250 J-r ^ r'"'"'' ""-' "^g'"-^ 
 ^toamsh.p /«;„„,> while tlev^'''™'''''^'''-"'" the 
 tickets at the Panama ,1 ^ *"'''' Procurin.r their 
 "" both sides beTrknl 5 ''"''• " """''«•'■ of person, 
 '^rty was alsoKred irr'''''*^'- Much Z? 
 rccurre, of Vh scenes^,a '! '''''"''''• "T" «vo7a . 
 f ahfornia in future tZe ^^''^''t'^u*" ""^ fr<>m 
 'letention. Usually some tW ^f '"""^ «-ith«ut 
 
 mongers were settled .^"Lir 'r;:^T'i "^^^^ "'^' P""^- 
 "f tlie steamer, as the ba" n" f ,% -T *'"= »•■"'">« 
 eamo aft, r the passen.S'sf t'l.t I'"'"''*' »'«' ">»ils 
 ""joy another view of tS ° '"* ^}""'<' was time to 
 »o"se of satisfaction and ;esTwh!;';*"P' "'«'''■• "-t 
 !je es aWishing of one's self n*.''''™^' ""^''ed 
 Jiei-e IS now „o more ehan L t,,*''l ""^ -J^-rter. 
 Isthmus are past; a fortS? V*'' ^'"''"•■^ of the 
 t'.e traveller Lis alm«uf e'eSS"". /' ^"•"•''. ""d 
 
 Mueh I'leasanteronthePaJil- l°'^'"'J"'"-"<-v. 
 t'an on the Atlantic, if fw ^VTS" """ally 
 ; '^ larger and more comfortable rl'^'}^" "'^'n^ri 
 passengers, 1 ke the Pie fi„ ■ "''" temper of the 
 
 j;'et it seen,s almost hkebll^ "■'°"^''- ^" ""' "" 
 t "s reen>barkati„n at Pan'n i />"" *'!" •'"•"■''«v "new 
 jak.'.g up and re,«r^iS'';, 'i'''^'-' '^ ""■'' « Sonerii 
 «' many new faces came Zu, " '™"''''™ ^''ere 
 
 '".»" its glorious beauties t^ T"^ °'" before'y"" 
 
 ' .,' 
 
 
194 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 
 city of to-day, and the tomb-tower of San Gcr6nImo 
 designating the site of old Panamd, which the bold 
 buccaneers ravished with such a relish ; the hazy moun- 
 tains beyond, with their curiously shaped crests — thus 
 quietly watching the boats come and go, the fruit- 
 venders dispensing their wares, the sea-birds circling 
 round the ship, and turkey -buzzards solemnly sailing 
 through the air; listening to the friendly waters which 
 lap the smooth sides of our monster vessel, with the 
 softly perfumed air that wanders objectless between the 
 sea and the low-lying sky, there comes stealing m upon 
 the senses a delicious repose. Up to this point, and for 
 several months past, mind and body have been upon tlie 
 rack about this California expedition. There were 
 the preparations, the adieux, the embarkation, tlie 
 voyage, the Isthmus ; then there is the remainder of 
 it, the voyage up the coast, the landing, the new lif ■, 
 with all its desperate ventures and uncertainties ; but 
 here, for the moment, is perfect rest, earth, sea, and 
 sky combining to intoxicate the senses, enrapture the 
 soul, and overspread all with a sensuous tranquillity 
 and calm. 
 
 At this time the commander of our steamer, which 
 was the Panamd, was that veteran of the Pacific IMall 
 Steamship Company, Watkins, called commodore ; and 
 among the five hundred and ninety-four passengers 
 were Mr Hutchins, Mrs Davenport, Gihon, Maguirc, 
 and others notable in the annals of California. Lato 
 in the afternoon of the 12th of March, the cluiiii 
 from the buoy was dropped, and clearing the islan<ls, 
 in an hour we came abreast of Taboga — to Panama 
 what Capri is to Naples, but more beautiful. Oranges 
 and tamarinds fringe the beach; the glass-green foliair;' 
 of cocoa and banana trees sweep from the valley up 
 the hillsides a thousand feet. Then we sailed clnwii 
 past Bona and Otoque, rounded Punta Mala, sonic 
 ninety miles southward from our anchorage, and were 
 fairly out at sea, with the warm bay of Pananul, and 
 its quaint, old, dreary town, wakened once a century 
 
 Jiidies. 
 "opolizc 
 on boar 
 f'f card 
 I^ants CO 
 ^^anies 
 Three ei 
 
 hive socia 
 
 possible, 
 ^rasp up( 
 
 the right 
 touching 
 
ON THE PACIPIO. 
 
 ^7 a Pizarro a M ^^* 
 
 sliower attended us. TW P"*' "«'>' « «mndcr 
 n-ily rain and Ji.-J.tnin,, . 5 T'^ "° *'nd to speak nf 
 
 P«.h Waste, „„ electrical wL clc '"P' *'W> ^""P- 
 7 ton-ents of Ji^ht streami, ff'"''; ""^''"■•'Panicd 
 rowed from hori^Sn tozS' V I" ^"''^'"'^ «%-f"r- 
 
 tremes of alternate pitch vwl I P' '"'t>^''*n tlie ex- 
 
 ?4tno^;-rS""^^ 
 
 Ven.guas,Tt:nd™c.:'tt'r "'« P-^-nto^ „f 
 S oa,ni„„ la.iI^.alo;<X*„: «' g-^nder "x-untalnf 
 
 tlio chariot of Poseidon S J ''•'"'' ^"te"^. like 
 "f the monsters of th "'/""" ''°"n<l "^ myriad? 
 "» eve,7 side, witl tt til' T""*^ 1"'' S-"^" ^ 
 l"jed and the load before „f ''T' ""='""<' """'ir! 
 and observation seemed T ""* •>'''' P"* on time 
 
 "'f «ea. Gossipstor,! *° <'^P«'«" with the eJpaS 
 pater familias grewTocuTd . ' TT' '^"»'<^<' «<"-eriv: 
 p'mfort, reading ISZil *"i*'°" '"""^d towafd 
 '"p Pitoliers of ce^ pu'ch r"w '• ^''"""ts nJxed 
 'aAes. Gamblin,. Xb ■ !? «"=>-ewith regaled the 
 n"Poli=!ed the sa o°o'n b ' t '" '¥ earlier voyages mo 
 
 - board the 00^™'^;!"='''^,''-' ^^'^^^ 
 "' card-playing in the sf!f ' •^^'^ tln'rewas plentv 
 l'a..ts could p,?,ble to tbit*?-''"''"''- ^''""■^ the occu 
 Ka.ne, obtaiLc on capXn't'T"*^"'' ""<' W 
 
 Tl.ree evils the law .eeurn!; >"'''■• "'"' flight 
 '"». drunkenness and f . P'"'^'^*« to control tramb 
 
 P'-«'ble, sliould let theSvu'"^' ^' '''^'' ^° «»* "« 
 g/aspupon him but t„ prew? ■ *'??• ""^ place its 
 
 '--.Which the law iZ^t^be^^Z:^ 
 
 
108 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 injury to another is a legal wrong whose proper prov- 
 ince it is the law's to check. With diminished at- 
 tempts at religious proselyting, a laissez-faire system 
 in personal morals, and less political engineering, our 
 civilization would speedily assume fairer and purer 
 proportions. Let parents and teachers build up them- 
 selves and the young in the strength of personal re- 
 sponsibility and moral rectitude, for in no other way 
 can certain evils be overcome ; then we may leave law 
 for thieves and murderers. On the steamer, bets 
 were made on daily distances, on the time of arrival 
 at any point, on the height or weight of any person 
 or thing, on the time in which coat and boots could 
 be taken off and put on, and on anything that hap- 
 pened to strike the fancy, however absurd. 
 
 During the long voyage there was ample time to 
 take a survey of the past, to reckon accounts with 
 providence, to apply the touchstone of experience to 
 natural qualities; a farther vision opened to the ejc, 
 sight was not bounded by the horizon. The im- 
 prisoned traveller saw clearly back to his boyhood in 
 a swift series of pictures like those which flash upon 
 the brain of a drowning man ; and when his thoughts 
 were turned toward the future, it was with a clearer 
 and more discriminating survey than any hitherto 
 made. 
 
 In these early days of California voyaging, there 
 were always two or three among the passengers wlio 
 set up for geniuses, self-constituted court fools. Usu- 
 ally they were young men rustically or provincial ly 
 bred, who were now for the first time absent from 
 home, and who seemed to feel that the time and place 
 had arrived in which their talents should unfold. 
 They sought fame in various ways — by much anil 
 heavy walking about the ship, by scowling, by swag- 
 gering, by boisterous talking and coarse laughinjjj, 
 and by practical jokes played to the infinite disgust 
 of their supposed admirers. Sometimes they were 
 joined by brazen-faced or ambitious young women, 
 
^•OTUa TEALVIKO SCnoOL 
 
 and sets Wnnl^J u ^ '^ 
 
 o«.H„ .„4?4:,tX:S^^^^^^ vie «,eH each 
 lo the refined and ,„„!•*•*''"'*% '""nspiruou., 
 from which there C^nTeTl'T^^ «" '"AiS; 
 Wcas torture Of oU ai '^^^^po tor days anr? «r^ i 
 
 greater part of til™ t^T''*' •'^««P«ons ; bv if th! 
 well behaved, Z ^ZT.^'^ 'i'"'^'' o"-'! r^and 
 
 circumstances. ^ ""'^^^'^ the most tryino- 
 
 tiers, no band of inarhM-. ° Wnpany of coiir 
 
 f-amed to look indSn^iv"" '%"""''*■ "^ solZra 
 
 '"-e ealudy faced an a^"'L"" ''<>''">. could W 
 
 -Hi ""'^nt adventurers riei^V""' '"'' ''>««' >'»»"« 
 Ti^y were men ) '^""'^ ^""'^ «very nationality 
 
 "'"self was not conS?' a^ ^T'""? *''« P<>«»ei<^r 
 
 ""ts are intensified or „MV ''«™'<'Ped. General 
 
 ^-omes meaner, th^WtLe^'™*!!' "'^ mean „?„ 
 
 -y become angelic, o'lauttftttt """ ^'?"" 
 
 utptjis, accordmg 
 
 
 IC 
 
 
 
198 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 i:ll! 
 
 to his moral anatomy or the chemistry of his compo- 
 sition, and the action of environment upon it all. 
 
 The prevailing winds along this coast are southerly 
 during summer, and northerly during the winter 
 months ; so that after leaving Punta Mala our captain 
 kept well in shore, which here is high, and hold, and 
 covered with rich foliage down to the water's cdga. 
 Passing Punta Mariato our course was still due west, 
 until we cleared the palm-covered island in the vicin- 
 ity, uninhabited save by monkeys and birds of bril- 
 liant plumage, when we took a more northerly direc- 
 tion along the shores of Nueva Granada, Costa Rica, 
 and Nicaragua, over whose lakes and rivers Gil Gon- 
 zalez and his crew crept so cautiously. The second 
 day saw us off San Juan del Sur, where those who 
 made the journey by way of Nicaragua took ship for 
 San Francisco. 
 
 By the Nicaragua route passengers disembarked 
 on the Atlantic side at San Juan del Norte, otherwise 
 called Greytown. Stepping from the ocean steamer 
 on board a steam river craft, they ascended the San 
 Juan river to the Machuca Rapids, where they landed 
 and walked a portage of about a mile, while the lug- 
 gage was conveyed up the rapids in bongos manned 
 by naked, long-haired, tawny natives. Above the 
 Machuca rapids, smaller steamboats carried them 
 to the Castillo rapids, where there was another por- 
 tage of half a mile. Then taking another and a 
 larger steamboat, they continued up the river to Saii 
 Cdrlos, crossed Lake Nicaragua to La Virgen, and 
 thence proceeded overland by mules, or on foot, to 
 San Juan del Sur on the Pacific, where they reeiii- 
 barked on board an ocean steamer for San Francisco. 
 The whole distance is about 165 miles, though in- 
 cluding the bends in the river it is oftener reckoned 
 at more ; 75 miles on the river, the same on the lake, 
 and twelve or fifteen miles overland to the ocean. 
 By the Panamd route, before the building of the rail- 
 
THE NICARAGUA ROUTE. ' 
 
 tt'- wl,„le distanefwaf?!. ?"?'^°'^'■='Nicaral"^I• 
 l.an by way of PanamT T,"-* ''"°? ""«» 'hoC 
 1855-57— the timrn" «i-k f "^'"^ '" '"tcr years— 
 which IhaveX naSd'-r "^"'''-'^ ^p"^ 
 this series. His ili-Xfd J? T*'""" ^'^'''e of 
 tmns,t co,,,pa„y.s river a Jl^' °I "-"""^^"tins the 
 t» li.s rum; for by stopnlf «,» f If' '^""'"''"tod 
 passengers to and from cllff^ ^'"■*'"''' '™"«it of 
 d'lmved himself of t " oSv ^""' '•>' ""'^ "'"te- he 
 - inned daily by S rt.- '"''"'' ''''"™k3 
 bullets-witl, foreign rwukk r**'"?', '""' ''"^ti'e 
 was the roused veSge™f tlT''"'''"''' *° ^'"^h 
 
 aio„rsr™s^;t'd-™ 
 
 Cbagres and across ?o Pa' ^"^°"*^*'«'" "P the 
 « an old Simish town com '« ^T ^''*" '^^^ Norte 
 '>"" and thatched iS^s „! » °f about fifty bam- 
 >»onts of later date, confainTnl »n!" .'''"«'«d tene- 
 I wnte an extren.ei; Sd "S„t *^" *"«« "f wMch 
 mndred. The towri isX„t 'Y"^"'"''™ of about five 
 
 ^r a long narrow sTn> "of tdT'"^'"™*'"™-^ 
 Arenas, whioli from thJ stLm . T'™ <« P^nta 
 'slaiKl than a cape, T « s 2 ''' ,""'''' """■« 'iko an 
 and uuhealthful and til """"""^"'g country is low 
 tufted grass and llrgrowttr-^'"?'^ '"attid w I 
 
 smooth-barked vineSSTree T,fY ^'* '"■•^* »f 
 gators, and monkeys claim? /"^^ey-'jumrds, alii- 
 
 -liiough steam was Pmr.l« "J"> ment ot the countrv 
 
 «f the §an JuanXr'trs™ ^^'^^ *■>« «^«S 
 
 tl.an in journeying ot th? OhT'''^ V'" '^"™f»rt 
 
 vhcel boats plied lom raoid i!^^' ^""'" stern- 
 
 '»te; into them we^eTrfven nJ"^""'' '^"^ «>« 
 
 ariven promiscuously, men, 
 
200 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 women, and children of all classes, black, white, and 
 mulatto, and herded like cattle without privacy or 
 restraint, without rooms or berths. Thus were the 
 tired travellers kept for two or three days and as 
 many sickening sleepless nights; the decent and re- 
 fined portion continually hearing the vile language of 
 tlie obscene and blasphemous. 
 
 Some there were, however, who could forget their 
 discomforts, and lose themselves in the contemplation 
 of nature's magnificence. Canopied by broad-topped 
 trees, slender and white-limbed, with their bright 
 fjliage fluttering like spangles in the sunshine, by 
 lofty palms whose tasselled branches bent gracefully 
 over the banks- dow i to the water's brim, passing 
 Arcadian isles rich in tropical plants and perfumes, 
 the frouzy boat with its confused cargo of panting 
 gold-hunters, wound with the winding stream, round 
 among snags, and shoals, and rapids, up and onward 
 toward the empire of their gilded hopes. 
 
 Dark, deep-red lignum vitaB and caoutchouc, bananas 
 and plantains with their long smooth leaves, and 
 scattering sugar-cane with high tasselled crests, 
 shelter lovingly the mammoth red and yellow flowers 
 that fringe the stream. Thousands of black, brown, 
 and gray monkeys hold their conventions on both sides 
 of the river, and make their exhibitions on the trees, 
 leaping from limb to limb and catching and swinging 
 themselves violently, suspended by the tail, grinning 
 and chattering, and screaming in jubilant mockery to 
 the pitiful dirt-diggers, in whom they seem to recog- 
 nize a degeneration of their own species. Surely they 
 of the forest are fittest and will survive. 
 
 At an island eighteen miles from the bay, whose 
 keeper had a small white neat board house and a 
 garden, the steamboat stopped to wood. 
 
 Ascending the river, nature spreads out in broader 
 and ever increasing sublimity. The foliage assumes 
 statelier proportions; the forests are grander, and the 
 mountains higher. Pendant from the limbs of tall 
 
O" THE WVEE SAN WA^. ^ 
 
 tree to tree in irracofnlf f ^ ''°'''"'' extendi,,,, fr„,„ 
 
 emllya.thrin^trWrd/:ft,"u T''" »''>•«--.:? 
 «■'-% of o,,,lles3 color IVi^^f''* P'^'-'-K" ""J «weot 
 ;vl..eli is tl,„ brigh(cri,i ,?^"'''T™""«»™»■>g 
 At'c 'r''' "' W^k- ''^ ^ it«l"ng.fau. 
 
 about onTliffitytanl'""? ?""<' ^^^WIo. of 
 "ew by an old ruinTfortil *','''•''"."''"'«''"'' Ml 
 l'rese,,tcd formidab eM,nSt^^^^^^ >■» ifapaln,y day 
 of tlio river. Ti,ou„l. E "ri "",!"'>"<"}' ascents 
 pement tl,ere are sections „f KT"^ "C''"''k and 
 13 quadran.-ular tl.ml f ■ '" ^'""e- In sl,aDe it 
 
 embrasures on eitl,er side ^w\l^ T '^f '''«''' ^'th 
 tbo first section, are Zl ,>,n * "''■ '?'"' a'*^" «'itl,in 
 "■■e dark vaults connectd bv ^ ' ""'' '" *''« "'terior 
 were several hotels at Cast^lorj '^^S^'^"- There 
 times rested there for thrS'f "^ !««««'««« some- 
 
 ^'^TX:Zfl 'f r *h^ ""» dwindles to low 
 at the Outlet o/ Lak ' Nrr^uf 7 ^' ^^ C^"-'" 
 fi'rt, snnilar to FoH CMtmo^« ' "'r," * dilapidated 
 Between the fortress a^^ lak??'" '^ ''"^'"Wable. 
 Ut N^ small thatched t': " " *°'^" "^ ""-"t 
 
 f ''t^^rS ~h7„Se e^ - sublimity. 
 Icnsfth by sixty miles n width ^* '''"' ""<' """^ m 
 *;;d crystallin.f basks undift' tn"^**^, '^''^■''°«ed 
 P^ple tone, and from its , weir ^T' '^i' "' 'ivid 
 niountains lift the,„"elit Zf"-- f""'"' '"»« and 
 sm„k,„g volcanic peaks K;"*" J'"^*' thickened bv 
 
 of the water is thSbert™;!.?"'" J?"' ^'-•^ ""*' 
 Its twn, brother Mad^™^ f ''""'° Onietepe, with 
 -e four and fiv^ SSd teb'"""/,'"!*'' "e^^ 
 "'e lake, and whose Smf! "'"^ "'« ^"''faee of 
 ■early forty ,«iles. 0„7t, w °'' "-' *' '^''' '« 
 S', a dirty little town with TJ " j^"'''' '^ '^i'Km 
 
 with a dozen dirty littje tlv- 
 
202 
 
 THE VOYAOE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 eras, where passengers feed, and swing their hammocks 
 for the night. During the day one may bathe here 
 in safi'ty, as it is said tiie aUigators frequent this |K)r- 
 tion of the lake only during the night. Very kmd of 
 the alligators. 
 
 Across the narrow strip of land, the only bar to un- 
 inteirupted water communication bi'tween the two 
 oceans, travellers proceed on mules and donkeys, 
 women riding some siile-ways and some astride. The 
 ride is delightful. Half the way the road is level 
 and straight, covered by a dark forest so dense in 
 places that there seems scarcely standing room for 
 the trees ; and the interstices are so filled with matted 
 branches, leaves, coppice, parasites, and other vhics, 
 as In places to prevent the sun's rays from ever touch- 
 inix the ground. The remainder of the road winds 
 through rolling hills, then scales a lofty mountain, and 
 descends to the sea. Thirty board houses, shingled 
 and painted, stretched along the shore of a small l)ay 
 constitutes the town of San Juan del Sur, which 
 seems to be a cross between Chagres and Asplnwall. 
 As at Panamil, the shelving beach does not jiermit 
 the small boats to approach nearer than about twen- 
 ty-five yards from the water's edge, and passengers 
 nmst be carried aboard on the backs of the boatmen. 
 Hi' re steamers anchor about one hundred and fiftv 
 yards from land. 
 
 A hundretl miles north we pass Realejo, one of the 
 coal stations of the Nicaraguan line. The harbor is 
 a good one, being an indentation of the shore line 
 with an ish id at the entrance. Three miles from the 
 town, whic. consists of one-story tiled adobe houses, 
 and contaii a squalid population of about four hun- 
 dred person a dock has been built, to which ocean 
 vessels may ) made fast. 
 
 Thus the Central American coast is passed; and 
 thus racing with the sun, down toward the equator, 
 and up toward the pole, round by the southern cross, 
 
PASTIMES OP rA.c8KX0KR«. 
 
 We Work our ^^ 
 
 I V '"vciuc'u. IjovDra ufI. ■•o"*' Out and now 
 
 ■-i-!l'"igto the iri„i,„t,„„„l .,,1 ?'""■" t" busi,„.„. 
 
 "'■''"S™, drinking iooc ,m >' *'"-*■• '■'"""•■^'. »ucS 
 the ,s;,ug<.„us traoTv- of i f^ ^.' , ^ "'"' """'Jf t„ tli,.», 
 
 "".'I S,">U, filling i, ;"X *°'f'"- «-ith an.otln-st b, rW 
 
 ,.^" t'."se sunsets ;rtu n/'",';""'^' E''"™- 
 
 re u™ „,„,„ «,^ ,,„„1»'- _ B ,.>,K .„ig,,t p,„,„i-' 
 
 ig <" the (,coan's brink if * "'" '^'^Y- I'au, 
 
 ♦ '« plenitude of it"^,.' '"""'- «'"' fliM-s bark t 
 ,^ -.OS the puny ^ffl,^ Xt t!"-"'-;'^ -"'^'- »• .i. b 
 •bvergnig rays im.t,,nion.Wn *? """"'"' "'«' «-itb itl 
 '■■■""tless iniigos, u.^rren 1 *"•' .''"'^•■<' ™l>"rs ,to 
 ol-ervor. nte^; valrs hL?' ■ "''■•'S"">tion of ;^ 
 
 ■ ™"' ti'eir author's deeliiJ „ j ™''>' quarter to 
 1^ departing gl„ries. I„'" L'^ ™*''' *« '"«"-e of 
 
 . -""• •^"^^ixautJiors deolnm « j -^^.m^. quarter to 
 
 ■1^ departing gl„ries. I„'" L'^ ™*''' *« '"«"-e of 
 
 '■' '«'>'. -en in it, perfeetio^orrirt''' '"^''V 
 
 "•"i IX the tropics, tile 
 
9M 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 i 
 
 I- 
 ti 
 
 I. 
 
 vital power of the sun is modified by the humidity of 
 the air which it has called up during the day, and 
 which tinges the celestial blue with dark azure, fills 
 the heavens with delicate crimson and roseate tints, 
 and turns the sky into gleaming gold. Solar fires 
 are reflected upon the surface of the agitated waters, 
 and all the west is red with slain sunlight. 
 
 The setting sun is almost always accompanied by 
 clouds, which, owing to the curvature of the earth, 
 though seemingly touching the water's edge, may be 
 two miles above the ocean ; they are formed sometimes 
 of ice and snow, and serve as specula in the display 
 of those prismatic colors which illumine them as they 
 wreathe th.emselves into innumerable grotesque pic- 
 tures of mountains, animals, cities, and every form of 
 imagery of wh.jh the mind is capable of conceiving. 
 Ranged in the direction of the wind, in parallel grad- 
 uating series one above another, they sometimes over- 
 spread the whole azure background from horizon to 
 zenith, and draw themselves out in long strips far 
 away toward the dim, leaden east, each rank increas- 
 ing m brilliance toward the west. They heap them- 
 selves in huge billows of roseate vapor, or in mountains 
 of sombre gray fringed with coppery crimson, and 
 then go cliasing one another with endless evolutions 
 and transformations along their blazoned course. 
 Breaking into detached masses, they assume various 
 forms, a grand old temple, with arches and colunms, 
 from whose holy of holies flames the fiery orb as from 
 the veiled shekmah, bathing the ocean in a halo of 
 glory; a castle crowning a rocky clifi\ with turrets 
 and battlements, with moat and walls and pennon- 
 bearing tower; a magic city, with gardens, and pal- 
 aces, and glittering domes and minarets ; forms of 
 cool, inviting groves, majestic forests, meadows, and 
 grassy knt^lls; home scenes, the house, the barn, t\\v 
 table spread for tea, with the well-known forms of 
 loved ones gathered round it ; the fancy-pictured gold 
 land, whither tends every thought, and of which all 
 
SUNSET AT SEA. 
 
 "P the .»toep'a«,e„T't™s' 'f"f-"^ '""'» ^S 
 waters, ij usive Jftk^«\. 1! !^ * cascades of tuiuLV^ 
 the inverted trees anH ^''*"'^ "" «^«Jr linVpid ^ ^!'"° 
 
 ^on.; with htrrd 'f;:r^nr''f f^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 c'ophante, hydras 1, "'' ""^stretched tail- ? 
 
 '"'gfi..atio,. pe„ci?"""S ""^ heart can feel™ tJ,e 
 
 wluJe from beliind an „™''r*5 '',*''« '"^m^^,^ 
 
 all nLt "!'""•'' "ito brown Jv I, n! ' f* ^'°'<'t. and 
 
 I • "orthward and soutI,w„r) " "''"^e and over 
 
 «ky, hangs a gauzy "'7^'*^' "^'* ^^and olouds and 
 
 »'>^esof^ft,«,i/J«.;.jn ,nany several blending 
 
 "■'■«■ a plungf ;Yfe fn' "'"'"?' """ *•>« ^e-'s brink 
 ffn stea'mei'rXS^-^ovvnj.and as tlfe £' 
 
 vesem % yet glow; f^f^^^''^.'^; and while tife 
 '""n the gray east, silentZ „? ,'^'"' f""»"-o fires 
 r^«eps „p, coquetting wrtlff,"^ unobserved, the ,„«,„ 
 
 '- -^- on.er e:L^;^Xwr s!!;l;'7,s 
 
206 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 dignity upon the dancing waters, whose undulations 
 transform her wake from a steady stream of molten 
 metal to broken bars, as of a shining ladder leading 
 heavenward. Therewith she pursues her modest way. 
 
 The rising sun — paling the glories ot the southern 
 cross, and as enchanting as the sunset but for the ab- 
 sence of evening vapors — few lovers see. Those to 
 whom the sweet joys of courtship are denied, the 
 married, and the hopelessly incorrigable, seek other 
 pastimes. Amateur theatricals and sham trials are 
 instituted, in which no small amount of talent and wit 
 are often displayed ; stories are told ; politics, science, 
 and religion discussed, and home, and California, and 
 gold-getting talked about Some western adventurer 
 holds breathless a crowd of listeners while he spins a 
 yam of thrilling deeds among the savages, and of hair- 
 breadth escapes; then another undertakes to cap the 
 story by improvising a more startling one, and so the 
 fun goes on. The 4th of July, Washington's birth- 
 day, and Christinas were usually observed; on Saint 
 Valentine's day a post-office would be opened, where a 
 list of names was posted, and missives dealt to merry 
 recipients. Some endeavored to sketch the coast as 
 they sailed by it, others to cut its outline from paper. 
 
 Suddenly the steam-whistle, with a long shrill 
 blast, sounds the alarm of fire, and the terrible cry is 
 taken up and thrown from one to another until it 
 reaches the uttermost parts of the ship. Pale faces 
 flit to and fro, and trembling knees stagger no 
 whither. For a moment all is hubbub and confusion; 
 but soon every man is at his post; the hose is un- 
 coiled, the water is turned on, the decks are flooded, 
 the life-boats are made ready and the life-preservers 
 dragged out. Some stand by, ready to lower the 
 boats, and others with pistols and cutlasses place 
 themselves on guard prepared to strike down any wlio 
 should attempt to jump into them without leavi; 
 others with uplifted axes seek the thrice dreaded foe 
 
^M ALAKjf. 
 *o cut away thp r-;. i '"' 
 
 pump, ^'.ne Jook aCihe"" *'''"'' " ''««<'«■ Some 
 
 ^?nger^ i„^ a fire bXtl Sf",'? ^o^ain of thet^ 
 
 was three-foU • fi!t^ •! ^^^ benefit of fM^ J • • 
 
 a...use„,e„t. '^^''' '"''™. and mmiyl^X^ 
 
 , » ^^emng bestows by far rt^ . , 
 
 rolled' ^Tr"' tweniyXt T*- 'Ifs'^*''"' h"«rs 
 aft!. *?P' "■" ™ff'ncati„g b rea«, f ■" *'"' *»''""? is 
 alter the sun, and the fresh^ f ''*■>' ^'"^ westward 
 water t„ the parehed ton't T? '"^ "''"■ ^^'eon'o as 
 
 gathernig lustre with the^ ,^1 • '^""^ with stars 
 tile great concave fmm\^^"''"« "'g*", and liZf; 
 
 S^nSVlSred!!:-^^^^^^^^ I^^'^f 
 
 ™ys--,s now lun>inou w th „,"'' T"^'^'^ ''J' "'« S 
 '« the romance of sea-vov3 '^^'■"'''«"* «■•«• This 
 
 Occasionally the encn^'-« J'' "'? P-'^'O' of trave 
 to renew the wadding rf l^Pf '° repair a valve 
 now beam— by which^l i P'"'™, or to nut i , ' 
 
 a 
 
 f ' , n 
 
208 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 tkr 
 
 times preach, if not, the purser would read the Epis- 
 copal service. Every few days, after the waiter had 
 put the rooms in order, the captain and steward 
 made a tour of inspection, looking into each room as 
 they passed by, while the waiter followed in the rear. 
 The kitchen of a Rotterdam housewife is not more 
 brightly polished than the cook's galley on inspection 
 days. Lighted up at night, to one viewing it from a 
 distance, the steamer looked like a fairy floating 
 palace. 
 
 Some few were suffering from Panamd fever, and 
 one poor fellow, a young man in the second cabin, 
 died. It is a sad sight, a burial at sea ; sad m its mo- 
 nitions, and sad in its suggestive retrospections; sad 
 in its summoned thoughts of hopes cut off, of riven 
 hearts and wailing homes. The body was sewed up 
 in a canvas shroud, and a shot and some pigiron at- 
 tached to the feet ; it was then placed upon a plank, 
 one end of which was extended over the ship's side ; 
 the steamer was stopped for a moment, a prayer was 
 read, the signal given, and the body slid off into its 
 liquid grave. 
 
 Skirting the low, abruptly changing shores of Guat- 
 emala, its huge volcanic mountains are seen in dim 
 outline rising from the plain of foliage to a height of 
 thirteen and fourteen thousand feet, with their grace- 
 ful cones seemingly smoking within a veil of mist. 
 Here we met the steamer with eastward bound pas- 
 sengers. The ship's officers were looking for her. 
 At first nothing was seen but a column of black smoke 
 rising from below the horizon, then the smoke-pipe, 
 and beneath it an ink-spot not larger than a pea-pod, 
 which stood for the hull. This black spot gradually 
 enlarged and assumed shape, until it loomed high upon 
 the water, a bellowing monster flaunting its finery not 
 a hundred yards from us, with its decks crowded with 
 men and women waving hats and handkerchiefs. 
 Guns were fired, and a boat lowered to make the ex- 
 changes There is much that is grand and impressive 
 
THE MEXICAN COAST 
 
 in such ft meetiniT • , **-' 
 
 s'^em to sit so prouWr T ^"^« ^n ocean «f 
 seen from «„^f i ^'^' ^^ ^wd it so ?Xi ^^^ainer 
 
 ^lottest paf t of ?M ?^ ^^^^^"aiitepec we enf 
 
 doice fir l;rf ^^^^^'^Vand tCLf "' ^^^° ^^^ 
 this, had o^Tfi7L^«^^^^^^oss merrdL„"s"r/"r ^"^ 
 "re in them tV "^ '^^ «ou^d take nn% ., ^'^^' ^^^ 
 
 ^ eu;se",Jv%T'^ ^^ot^o^et''? ^^^^^^ 
 a bni' whlnj y' ^^'" upon u«»- ih \/ ^ languor. 
 
 Came in si„j,t tv. ""■«<'tLi„„g 
 
 tto right von t^ T ""^ '^ft. anclat "ffr'T^ *« 
 
 and Vou will . . *"® buoy. XToto i ^ *"e 
 
 »W mllt" ?. "?*«'• place of exftn^ ^""^ "'■'"'»<' 
 
 '1^ 
 
210 
 
 'XHE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 
 
 is another entrance, which, though deep enough, is too 
 narrow for safety. 
 
 This port, the best on the r/estern coast of Mexico, 
 and the half-way station between Pananid and San 
 Francisco, can safely harbor five hundred ships. It 
 is part of an inunense basin cut in granite rocks — a 
 coarse-grained granite like that of Fichtelbcrg and 
 Carlsbad, toothed and rent like the Catalonian Mount- 
 serrat. Its shores are so steep that vessels can lie 
 {ihnost under the chaparral that overhangs its banks. 
 Surrounded by mountains rising on every side from 
 six hundred to three thousand feet, the listless ocean 
 air seems inadequate to drive out the pent-up exhala- 
 tions from an undrained swamp filled with decaying 
 vegetable matter ; and the town, which has the name 
 of being the hottest place on the route, is considered 
 quite unhealthy. For weeks the tliermometer stands 
 at 120° in the shade at mid-day. In early days a gap 
 wa? cut in the hills to admit a current of air ; it was 
 also used as a roadway, and thf; great gash is pointed 
 to travellers as a specimen of Spanish energy and 
 capal)ility in the olden time. On a strip of soft white 
 sand encircling the bay grow cocoa-palms, their long 
 green arms and smooth stems bending with fruit ; and 
 the amata, or tree of love, offers its umbrolla form and 
 magnetic influence to all who choose to avail themselves 
 of its ravishing shade. 
 
 Time was when this port was more famous through- 
 out tlie world than that of New York, or any otlicr 
 along the border of the firm land of America, if we 
 except Vera Cruz and Panamd. Under Spanish ruL , 
 it lay in the line of travel from the Philippine islands 
 across Mexico to Vera Cruz, over which route annual 
 caravans of loaded mules carried the wares of Cljiria, 
 Japan, and the Spice islands, thence shipped to Spain. 
 Enjoying a monopoly of the Manila trade, it was fre- 
 quented by galleons which annually dispensed their 
 rich cargoes to merchants who flocked down from the 
 ':;apital to make their purchases, and who at the same 
 
ACAPULCO. 
 
 dred leagues, travellT„n?.i'''''° ,''''''»" «"« hun- 
 ;"»"'?> The road is ffi;> Paek-muie, and saddle 
 
 »"d.ts than that from Mi*"' ^^Z"''"'"""*"'' h 
 
 *'""• "'« ^ame winding wthl an *f " '" ""-^ ''i'''''-- 
 conveyance over them'b^„„ e,nnl "^ .'"""' "■«»»« "f 
 tamed m the days of C„S ^ ^■''' """ «>«* "b- 
 
 t-n Sn*!;1sl^'~ a busy population of fif. ^ 
 "f three thousand. Tim ^, i ." ''f"'^*^' '"ert town 
 I'ut the business h nm^}J^^^t^T '« h«ter„„ene u" 
 ""d Europeans. ICl^'l" *''" 'i""''' "f A»,eri™ns 
 of animated traders olfi''ft'' P'-"*^' *here .-rmn"' 
 :'"o" seen, and on i.eTarml *?'''• ™/' S^'-'We'^^s a ' 
 
 ;i« from it are situa ed h™ L"'''"?".'" ^"■"'*' ''ad- 
 tilod adobe, stone and J j ^."'''■'''a''tial houses „f 
 
 »"d bc.fore;hich dei-rf "' "'"' P=''"-Svo: 
 nnd rain, The shops S, ' /"■"•"■"t^ftion fro„, su^' 
 are da.=,lingjy white'^'i'l rVr'-"^"-<'wellin"" 
 "'■*-■ y The tun,blinlQls of '"'"*'"■""• ""at am 
 <cup,ed, give the appeararce J t^-^V^nts long u„- 
 
 «-'s a mnnature ship to assist tl^ fi-o,„ the ceili,,,. 
 It was half past eighnS, nl "^^^ "^ "tailors! 
 JWeh I9th when the /^„„„,; « ?", *'"^ «^«>ing of 
 P"'<o bay, and there we mS Id . 1''' ^^ '•» Aca- 
 Soaroely does the steamer e™l1 ""td noon next day. 
 rrounded by canoes ladeT with f"'"!"'' ^^'"'<' 't is 
 . nnmg from various parts „ftf 7'*' "'"* «'""« 
 
212 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 shell-work, and are often paddled by a woman with a 
 cigar in her mouth, while a man or boy attends the 
 floating shop. Traffic is conducted in this wise: 
 Ranging themselves along both sides of the steamer 
 tlie dark-visaged venders lift up their e3^e8 and voices 
 to those above inviting trade. Armed with a basket 
 or mat bag, to which is attached one end of a long 
 line, they throw the other end up over the guard. 
 Whoever wishes to make a purchase takes the line, 
 draws up the basket, and puts into it a piece of money. 
 Then loweringr it to the boat and intimating what is 
 wanted, the seller takes the money and puts m the 
 basket its equivalent in wares which are then drawn up 
 on board by the purchaser. Tired of this you may 
 amuse yourself by throwing dimes or quarters over- 
 board, and watching the naked tawny-skinned urchins ; 
 who float about the ship as in their natural element, 
 dive and scramble down into the transparent water 
 ten or twenty feet, and come up porpoise-like, puffing 
 and blowing the water out of their heads, with the 
 glittering coin between thumb and finger. Seldom or 
 never do they fail catching it before it sinks very far, 
 and holding it up to view for a moment they throw it 
 into their mouths and watch for more. These boys 
 will thus remain in the water for hours without any 
 support save that which a slow fin-like motion of 
 arms and legs gives them, and despite the sharks to 
 which one of them is now and then sacrificed. To 
 him who has made the voyage, the bare mention of 
 these little incidents will call up a thousand associa- 
 tions which will enable him in some degree to live 
 again the time that formed so important an epoch in 
 the life of every Californian. 
 
 While the steamer is taking in coals, cattle, fowls 
 fruit, and water, which occupies several hours, you 
 may if you like go ashore in a boat and visit the 
 town, less than a mile distant, in a recess of the bay. 
 Near the landing, and on the shady side of the plaza, 
 you will find spread out on tables and on the ground 
 
"UMPSES AT MEXICAN UFR 
 
 fioad a necklace, at the 1ml • thr„ws over ,0'*;' 
 «'t, but should Jou et TrL""" '"■'''"S. it is a C 
 «..ne far before the co4e eoW iV"" *'" "<>' m' J 
 lesires a present in return a'' '?'"".*' *■»•'« u,, a, j 
 lx= served bv a female iJ^' ,^ ""o <Hnnw usLi t 
 '■""k and virago At -T^'l ''''^'touratcur atot 
 
 -■'"ke.andsip^Ta^i"?" '""ngo i„ sha^ n"!'' 
 
 substantial .til), Ihoulh "rruU '^t'""'' ''^id I J 
 
 sonod by one „r two eonimnL /' '^ "^ual'v "arri 
 "Miers with heterogenoTun,? "^ '^''^'^ barrfCd 
 ■■«s anns. In a clSir "nZf • "'" "'"' "'"'ost wor , 
 '"wn there is del^XJT^ **'" ^'''oam back of Vt 
 tl'f stand on he S'^l'' bathing, but thet,^ riS" 
 
 ";»ko it an awkard posi, ilf '" '""«'• -^^>^tu 
 Pl-'ced in. Oecasio,,olf " " ""x'est man t ''7' 
 
 ™ <■„ previous to our arrival « '" *""' '■'''»^''«l tc\ 
 - been contributed ?or h 1 reli:;? ''?''"«' <'*- 
 
214 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 cjast, and others with intentionally running his sliip 
 ashore. All the upward bound steamera were crowded, 
 and were unable to take on board the shipwrecked 
 passengers. C. J. Dempster, J. B. Crockett, J. Mc- 
 Dous^al and wife, and thirty-four others, men, women, 
 and children, succeeded in securing passage by the 
 Panamd; the rest were obliged to wait until a vessel 
 could be sent them. There were in all about eisxht 
 hundred, passengers and crew. Four hundred had 
 taken passage in sailing vessels and steamers for San 
 Francisco; the others were in a destitute condition, 
 and subsisted on contributions. There was much suf- 
 fering among the women and children durini; their 
 march through an inhospitable country, and while at 
 Aeapulco tlicre was nmch sickness and several deaths. 
 After some delay, the clipper ship Nortlieni Lifjht was 
 sent by Mr Vandewater, agent for the company at 
 San Francisco, to their relief. Stockton matlo a 
 movement in their aid, and Mayor Harris of San 
 Francisco called a meethig on the 29th of Mai-cli — 
 rather late, one would think, but better than never — 
 to devise measures to render them assistance. Many 
 were inclined to censure the company for their dila- 
 toriness in despatching them conveyance to San Fran- 
 cisco. One hundred and twentv thousand dollars, it 
 was stated, had been paid by the North America's pas- 
 sengers; through no fault of theirs, they had been 
 thrown on a foreign and unhealthy shore, and now 
 tlie company were loth to spend a few thousand dol- 
 lars to save their lives. 
 
 Next day we were at sea again, carrying with us, 
 as it would seem, half the inhabitants of the ocean. 
 M^'riads of flying-fish skim over the smooth sea, flash- 
 ing their silver tinted wings as they skip from wave 
 to wave, or break cover and fly away. Sharks dart 
 by, leaving, if it be night, a phosphorescent wak(\ 
 broken and luminous like fiery serpents; porpoises 
 and dolphins leap and gallop along, and play about 
 the ship, following in its wake, or trying the metal 
 
MEXICAN rORTd. 
 
 oHheir heads acrainst fJ,«f r ., '^' 
 
 -go turtle is Cl'ati^'i 'r"*"^*^r- »-« a 
 'uge, snorting bJackfisr^^Jnl. •^''^^r' ^'""^^^r a 
 
 ^;':^- '"g and 8Woopi,MM fj'^' ^^'jterspout. S.a-birds 
 
 «iHps wake for tJ,iirC£t'"'^ «"ther wateh til 
 
 iiiore are tJiroo Mov,' „ 
 «»cl the gulf of cXnia^aTtKl^''^"^^^-P"ieo 
 « earners son.etin.os Ch M.^^^'^A *^'^ ^^^^^nd 
 hundred ivilvs nortii of A T"^^"^^"' »«'"o four 
 
 ^- n, opposite Ca])e St lZ, ! , ^'1 1' ""''' ^^^^^^*^- 
 aJ^ove Sun Bias. Manzlnni ^ ^'""^^'^d "'iJes or so 
 tl.roe huiidrod soverd l ' i"" f -"^ ^'^''"'^'* <>^ P-rhans 
 P-t of CoIuna:Tte'"; ^ "'l'^^^^'^^- tie sT 
 J'^dts inland. On n ^ t^ ^^^^^ seventy fiv.. 
 
 "oarly alivajs oivoroW S '°''' "> 'icisrlyt is 
 
 Trc. Man-,./ ida,.:;^-'^ -f '-»«;. L»vi„^ '^ 
 
 ;';-' ™,)ciy t,.at^;^:;f , ; , X ;:, 'r, '"""■-' ^ot 
 
 l';<-t">^«)ue port of MaLt^^™^'' "'«'"»d it. Th 
 "tl'erwise unbroken swX.? t," '"'*1«' f'"'" the 
 
 '\';|eh tJ.e sea dashes t'V "^"""1 ■•""' '"tweon 
 *'"'". is safe, ex-ccS from , 'iT"- ^''« ""ehora.^e 
 P"aehing the l,arbjr the 1?.'."'*'"'*'' S^'''^- <>" a°P- ' 
 '" «ie dark rod ohffs oL"T ?' '""'''"'' "'"' '»■■>"' 
 K";en transparent waer7j„e;rr'.r''',,»""«3 the 
 !■ eturc, with a dim back , 'o»n-l /"^ '''"' " *'''te 
 J amtlan is the most imno'',S^t''M ■"'™"*''"' ""«• 
 "'« Pae,fie, and displZ^?!- Tf '",?" «™i'»rt on 
 ".mnerolal activity i ^' \,S '^T.f "'' ''^'*'"« "" 
 
 12,000 or 15,000, the climate" e'altlntl ''?"'"""" '^ 
 
 "caJtii^, the liouses sub- 
 
316 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CAUFORNIA. 
 
 etantial, and coated with dazzling white or straw color, 
 and the streets clean. 
 
 Crossing the gulf and continuing our course, on the 
 27tli we meet the steamer Neiv Orleans bound soutli. 
 Past the surge-smoothed granite colunuis, caverned 
 rocks, and high white beach of Cape St Lucas, and 
 out of the intertropical regions, and the temperature 
 changes ; particularly in summer, when the traveller 
 leaves the warm southerly winds of the Central 
 American and Mexican coasts for the cool bracing 
 northwesters and chilly fogs of California. And 
 with the climate scenery changes, and desolation now 
 marks the border of our way, hitherto robed in re- 
 dundant vegetation. The forest-clad Cordilleras of 
 Mexico disappear and the treeless hills of the penin- 
 sula come in view. Approaching the colder regions, 
 the albatross turns back and we are met by myriads 
 of Mother Carey's chickens, and graceful gulls which 
 follow the shij) for hundreds of miles. The southern 
 cross dips lower and lower until it finally disappears, 
 and the north star rises each nijiht hiifher above the 
 horizon. Droopmg spirits revive. White linens and 
 blue flannels are packed away, and winter woolens 
 and thick clothing substituted. 
 
 The coast of Lower California as seen from the 
 steamer, presents a series of openings and headlands, 
 with now and then volcanic mountains, and unbroken 
 plains of vast extent, reaching far into the interior, 
 all basking beneath a fervent sky. In places are 
 rocky steeps over which are scattered a few cacti and 
 some distorted shrubs, with more robust vegetation 
 back of all, and now a) A then a fertile-looking valley 
 running inland. Tiie islands of Santa Margarita and 
 Cerros lying near the mainland present rather an un- 
 inviting appearance. The country, however, is more 
 attractive on nearer acquaintance. 
 
 And now our eager eyes catch the half-transparent 
 hills of Alta California, but before we fairly reach 
 
SAN DIEGO. 
 
 them we turn an^ « ^ ^'^ 
 
 »■'« placed LnTfi "■'," t»-oaM,. whn'^t, *'" ?"»"'. 
 
 ''^ «aiied into it % '"^l?"^ ^"^ ««, and tJ.lr -^^ 
 
 \ "^"ver encountered M '' ^"^ "^ ^^'^ severe f ?^'"'' 
 ^'"'uu-h oiir^ . % 'fc vvus cloo.l, • T ^^ Storms 
 
 out in f^P'^'^^^^^P^ic vision fts fT' ^^ *^'^^ accursed 
 
218 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 fill 
 
 a prairie bison, the ship's bow pointed now upward 
 toward the sky, now downward into the depths. 
 Responsive to the sh?'ieking blast the phosphorescent 
 waves reared tlieir crests on higli, clashed one against 
 another, and breaking into foam shot brilliant streams 
 of spray into the black air, like flashes of light from 
 a luminous snov/drift. Fearing to be driven to de- 
 struction before the wind, the steamer's bow was 
 pointed athwart the waves, and tiiere in the teeth of 
 the storm the utmost efforts were made to prevent 
 her beini; cauyjlit and overturned in the trout^h of the 
 sea. 
 
 Returning to my berth, and bracing myself and 
 holding on, I lay listening to the creaking timbers 
 and straining joints, to the thud and rattle of the 
 waters against the ship's planks, to the crashing of 
 glass and crockery, and the clatter and bang of loose 
 furniture and baggage, sent hither and thither by 
 every lurch of the struggling ship, to the shouts of 
 sailors, and the nnngled moans and blasphemies of 
 passengers ; watchhig through the slow hours for day. 
 listening for some break in the beating macliinery 
 which should leave us at the mercy of the waves, 
 wondering if ever I should see the firm and beauteous 
 earth again. 
 
 Dawn brought only increased fury to the storm. 
 No tables could be set that day ; indeed, there was 
 little thought of eating, for long before the tempest 
 had spent itself the ship was despaired of, and such 
 passengers as were out of bed were beaten about like 
 footballs. All loose canvas was torn to shreds, and 
 boats were splintered and sent flying from their fas- 
 tenings Clothes went a drift without their owners, 
 and half-dressed men and women staggered about in 
 dismay and confusion. Heavy seas were shipped in 
 rapid succession; the wind and waves swept over tlio 
 deck in a hurricane, and to add to our distress the 
 ship, though comparatively new, had parted lur 
 seams, and was leaking badly, so that all the pumps 
 
STORM ON THE PACIFIC 
 
 unfa 'eZ,t:r r*. ^-« -- - " 
 
 bottom of watery sulehes 17 '^"^i '"""'^"'^ "* tl,e 
 
 her beam enda, sea;^,e„ cfu„rt„ H, ''' • ""?"* ''"«''' »» 
 iivea """'g to the rigg,„g fo^ (.,,^5^ 
 
 %-.f(irr w,etr g::^„x ■''/"^ *>-'«•-* 
 
 «""(! had increased until ttetZ/"'' '*'=''*'.>• "'e 
 '"|ig imrscd for wortl.v n. ■ "P'f'et' sea, in wrath 
 ''"Shty unrest; therrJsSr:;"' ^''"°'' 't^elf i„ ^ 
 tiio .stonn culminated in a fre.T" f".' "''"' " how], 
 away toward the west u fder t "T n^ ^V' ^'"^"'S 
 
 fi<;;g clouds, lookin,, quickh w, n •ir''^""' '^'4 
 
 t»nlv balanced herselfCsome f' ' ■''^ *''''P '"""'™- 
 air, looking far away, as IrT tif"* """8 '^"^ high in 
 «here the low scwhUh^ivI '"•>''' 7"''' '''■''"h, to 
 
 where air and water wlpnedX^ > """"" ""*■ 
 «'aand sky were one, 3 I ± '"'r'' *'«^"'"' ""d 
 sierra a succession of nJli„„T. '^'';"' """"' high 
 and splashing clift. Sfw ''^'^J «'a.ssy guI,h-3, 
 perhaps, hundreds of nX^ "' they can,e, born 
 ™hH,g after them, roar™ LTf ' ,T" ' "'""^a"'! 
 ful as ,f to overwhchn us." TholiW "f""'' "™'h- 
 I stood was no more to the , I ''"!' "" ""hich 
 t" a whirlwind. Tl,en L i *°." * ''uzzin.. flv 
 •"t" the deep smootl UnS"^"^ ''^™"""Sf ^>""^ 
 "Pward, beheld on either T ™"""' "'"' '""1<"'S 
 ""■""tain, with tremb n^ d ■ * '"•'*'"^' "'"'ten 
 "aele, with aerriedu"^,if ".«"»<' «''*-""'^' Pi' - 
 t"o„„|, and ahnost per^^ ic„ . " 'iTT'' ••"'" f'^" 
 stieaked with stri„g/fi,i , ' ^ I J'^'^^'^'"'-" "alls 
 t.ent avahanche leaped t o' ,b f, '"f-'.T* """'^^ hnpa- 
 'I'"." I'e laboring slip W ,w " ?i„"'' ^'^^ "''"' " "rish 
 looked again u,,°, (,,'„ ,;^ '"; ' ce nmre uplifted, I 
 
 -toll waves, beautiful " teir e " ""'"' !""' ^^a«s 
 now r,s„,g V ,„ mountai s now n eT.-™''^'"'^ '"'"'^' 
 then turning, surge meetin J sT. 'f """ P'ains 
 
 terdance; and now come, t^ "." '" f"aH,ing c.-uii- 
 
 '"« brine swifter;,: rDiitrtr'-T "'"-^^■ 
 
 'anas dart, and seizmg (,ho 
 
220 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 chafing main beats down its wild roaring breakers, 
 holds the crushed waves in fierce embrace while yet 
 other howling gusts sweep over them, then relaxing, 
 stirs up the levelled surface, smites the atrugglin<r 
 streams into dust, and breaks the liberated waves into 
 IVaojnients swirled off in surge-flakes into the leaden 
 air. 
 
 As I have before remarked, the petty annoyances 
 of travel try temper and discover the varying play of 
 light and shade in character. Now a storm at sea 
 tries men's souls, and discovers to each the measure 
 of his manhood, of his faith, of his courage and cal- 
 lousness; discovers to him the realities of his religion, 
 if he has any, the povert}'' of his hopes if he has none. 
 And like all phenomena througliout the realm of na- 
 ture, there are no two human cliaracters alike, and no 
 two manifestations exactly similar under the influence 
 of fear. In this instance, throughout the night, and 
 during the greater part of the day, some slept and 
 snored on, others lay awake in their berths, nmto, 
 and a[)parently indifferent, others, greatly frightened, 
 clutched their beds and groaned. Some, throwing 
 themselves upon their knees, poured forth petitions 
 to unseen powers, now in dismal howls and now in 
 intelligible prayer ; others were so smitten witli cow- 
 ard fear, so hopeless and helpless, as scarcely to know 
 wliat they did, and mingling incoherent oaths and ex- 
 clamations witli their pitiful cries, they looked ateacli 
 other and shuddered, clasped hands convulsively, gazed 
 beseechingly upon tlie merciless ocean, and let fly their 
 thoughts back to tliehome thcv had left -and forward 
 to the California their hopes had aspired to, and which 
 now seemed a million of leagues awav. 
 
 Not onlv did the storm severelv tax the strength 
 of the ship, but it made such inroads upon the scanty 
 fuel that there was gieat danger of our being left 
 exposed powerless to the fury of the waves. Our 
 captain therefore about noon this day, which was tlio 
 28th of March, came to anchor under the lea of 
 
Monterey. 
 a low island, and aft., tu "" 
 
 dence of the wind for over s^rt '^""'"g **« ™bsi- 
 
 night oa^'et^'wltrf"^ "T^-^ i^if and anoth 
 the iowerin, sCmZjTr.f" "' «- "o" 
 Once more nothini, canTJ ! " *'"' ""qniot ocean' 
 
 tie darkness and the t- m* ^ waters; yon f„„"5 
 
 ^ O, sinking ,s as the sii.l-;„ ? . * *"" "'aves ■ and 
 . ,;; "'"f wave that striSmf„„"«° ''f F^^''^- ever3 
 '■■K locls upon the coffin ' *''" ''**'' '« like fa]f. 
 
 ^^''''^C'&Z^r -" -- "er passion 
 
 F'om the ocean the Cwl ''''"' .'"*" hazyCrDfe 
 I"':;' '•ugged barren sea wa 1 /"*'' '«'''« like tSt 
 

 
 ■ 
 
 
 '1 
 
 1 
 
 
 ri 
 
 
 F 
 
 
 ■1 
 
 If:' 
 
 1 
 
 $ 
 
 i 
 
 w 
 
 a, 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 222 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 the sometime famous capital of California, which 
 point we reached at nine o'clock that night. A 
 shelving point, Phios by name, green with waving 
 pines and terminating in black rocks, marks the ap- 
 proach to Monterey bight, an indentation of the 
 coast, scarcely to be called a harbor, yet generally 
 safe f(jr shipping. Rising behind a town of five hun- 
 dred inhabitants, of spacious well-built tiled adobes, 
 intermixed with dwellings of wood, with government 
 buildings, and a fort on an eminence near the water, 
 is an amplutheatre of wooded hills glowing like an 
 illuminated p"u»rama in the warm hazy air — the 
 whole forming i ' ely and picturesque a scene as 
 the sun shines on. 
 
 ThK)Ugliout the next day all hands were busy 
 chopping and taking in wood. Setting sail at half 
 past nine we prepared with some nervous i/au'le de 
 cocnr ft>r the last night, that most joyous of all nights 
 on shipboard. By daylight next morning, which was 
 the 1st of April, 1852, the bold rugged clifts of jioints 
 Lobos and Bonito are in full view, the lonely Faral- 
 lones stand sentinel on our left, while northward 
 in the direction of Point Reyes stretch the high 
 rockv ixalleries of the coast which bound the sea to 
 its very edge. 
 
 Slow ? The sluggish boat seems scarcely to move 1 
 The lazy wheels slap the water in aggravating dor- 
 manc}", and between each step of the walking-beam 
 you ma}' count a month. By far the longest hour 
 upon the route is that when, with adjusted rigging 
 and slushed masts and feed waiter and lut;<jfajje read\', 
 we watch wath feverish impatience the slowly lessen- 
 ing distance between us and the headlands. It was 
 in order, the day before this last, for the captain's 
 ftivorites to prepare a fulsome testimonial for gentle- 
 manly conduct and able seamanship, to be publisheil 
 in the daily journals on landing ; while those who 
 fancied themselves to have been ill used might cliaiigc 
 their muttering curses into bold charges, and talk 
 
SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 the eh„,,,,i, k„ betwoof tl rt- 1',"' '■"""'^' ov"" 
 to s of tlie Golden GatP^il, . '"?.'' •^'uff-bouiul J,/ 
 
 W K^ scream, then si,?,, e'/ a ,c t ,1""' 'i'" ^'''rti^'d 
 
 "ow ,u,esce„t under anl ' ]"'' '""' ^■«""»- sa;id 
 or" gauze, ehoer. fi,,", ' ^ oZT'' '"'"'^ "'■' ^ 
 ■m K ."'""'•*''« "-"tor and T,^ ."/P"" «'« «!'ore 
 <'"tl boats come al„n.r,i,f' ,, ''•■"""'crcl„-cf:, wave 
 
 «'nyard to tl,o wharf ,° 1 *.'"^" ^'o i""vo ,l„wl!; 
 Out of the pij;;-; : f„:'"-J"«™oy is done. ' '"'^ 
 
 me of a glowi„./s°„ p f ■-"■ '"*" *'"= «oft war,,, 
 .0 never Vict =,: ITSZ""""'"^' »«• "- 
 "W from tlio tables with tl,!' f '"'f'^tiNg sn,e)ls 
 
 "okroaebed cabins, aS hi dh.^'S'^r ''"«'• ^om 
 j"d dishes, on to the firn, «rou^ "'"'.'•'^"ter of g„„ 
 
 'ah and clean linen, and ^iS, T'"' "'"' '»'" a 
 
 «Kfast; away from tlie horriw! f ^' ?" "H'etizh... 
 '■» osolo,,o^becp],aunt«l f n,f , '^^^ "^^ *' irh wS 
 "«' "«'-se jesters, and selfis '^"'■"""'«'«l .wearers 
 
 ami^ff 1 '''''"''"S "'Others i,d *"'''"'/'"' "'.""g 
 
 -e so lately clo.:^n cd j r.'"™ ""'' *™Patio s'^ 
 '"""g their thirtv-dWvn, "'"'"" '"'pes and peril 
 
 ^-«-. The bond T.S'Sottor^"' '•",' *'- 
 
 1 equality accideiitaJly 
 
 
 ill 
 
224 
 
 THE VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA. 
 
 made is forever broken; now money, not steam and 
 iron and plank, is God. 
 
 Asliore I Never have I experienced greater pliys- 
 ical pleasure than in the first hour ashore from a long 
 and tedious voyage. Every pore of my senses drinks 
 satisfaction ; head and heart and heels unite in speak- 
 ing their content ; it is like an escape from prison or a 
 release from purgatory. So am I in California, the 
 lovely, the golden-dreamed, the wonderful 1 Looking 
 over the water toward the east, I see through the 
 subtle violet haze, the land before me like a land of 
 promise; mountain, vale, and bay glimmering in a 
 flood of saffron sunlight, zoned and studded with bright 
 emerald hills — gold and green, significant of the royal 
 metal in its veins, and the elements of the rich har- 
 vest hidden in its breast. 
 
 Iiivei 
 
 erit. 
 
 So 
 
 some 
 even f 
 state. 
 Son 
 Sj)ania 
 temple 
 f<»r a f( 
 troasui 
 down t 
 cold di 
 ever be 
 roirion 
 Ki J3orJ 
 giJt sJio 
 J",!,'' at a 
 lantern 
 t^io rain 
 was not 
 The t 
 far as an 
 into sobe 
 Some say 
 [ey. in G 
 because i 
 
 Caj 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 EL DORADO. 
 
 Inveteracct lioc qucxjue ; et quod hodie exeinplis tueinur, inter cxcin^Ia 
 
 erit. 
 
 — Ttu-ilu.i. 
 
 So they called the country El Dorado, The Glided; 
 some of them so called it not knowing; why ; the name 
 even fastening itself upon a political division of the 
 state. 
 
 Some of them knew that since the coming of the 
 S}>aniards, when Vasco Nunez hunted for the golden 
 temple of Dabaiba, and Juan Ponce de Leon searched 
 for a fountain of perpetual youth, and Cortds freighted 
 treasure ships from Mexico, and Pizarro from Peru, 
 down to the silvery days of stock gambling, and the 
 cold dull tyranny of railroad management, tlierc has 
 ever been in the minds of the greedy, somewhere a 
 region ruled by El Dorado, or rather a place called 
 El Dorado, or The Gilded. It was not necessary the 
 gilt should be gold, or even that there should b(^ gild- 
 ing at all ; indeed, the thing was rather of the Jack-a 
 lantern order, or like the crock of gold at the end of 
 the rainbow, when ready to put your hand upon it, it 
 was not there. 
 
 The true, or original El Dorado — that is, true so 
 far as any aborginal or other mythology can be woven 
 into sober story — was in South America, wiiere, as 
 some say, the micaceous quartz in the Essequibo val- 
 ley, in Guiana, gilded the land. Or it may have been 
 because the high priest of Bogotd sprinkled his person 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 16 
 
 (226) 
 
 t« 
 
 ^■■\ 
 
226 
 
 EL DORADO, 
 
 with gold dust, thus originating the idea of a gilded 
 humanity, that people came to think of the country 
 as gilded. 
 
 The high priest. El Dorado, the lord of this magnif- 
 icence — for chief and country generally bore the same 
 name — was every day annointed with perfumed gum 
 and bathed in gold-dust, so that his whole body glit- 
 tered like the sun. His moving was as the moving of 
 a golden statue, and his breathing was as of subli- 
 mated diamonds. Incredible it would ever seom, 
 were not the truth verified by many witnesses, liow 
 long, and earnestly, and honestly men pretending to 
 sanity sought this myth. Beginning with Sebastian 
 de Belalcdzar in 1535, and Gonzalo Pizarro in 1539, 
 the valley of Dorado was the object of search by 
 various expeditions fitted out from Peru, Quito, Bra- 
 zil, New Grenada, and the Rio de la Plata, the in- 
 fatuation continuing down to as late a period, in one 
 instance at least, as 1775. 
 
 Coming to more definite statements, we know that 
 a Spaniard named Martinez reported that having been 
 adrift at sea he was thrown on the coast of Guiana, 
 and taken to Manoa, the capital of the king of that 
 region, who was an ally of the incas of Peru, that tlie 
 roof and walls of the city, wherein he had resided 
 seven months, were covered with the precious metals. 
 Orellana, a lieutenant of Pizai ro, who visited the val- 
 ley of the Amazonas, 1540-1, spoke of a region whtro 
 gold and silver abounded to a fabulous extent. He 
 reported to have been in Manoa, and to have seen the 
 immense treasures. Van Hutten, who commanded 
 an expedition from Coro, on the coast of Venezuela, 
 1541-5, thought that he had caught a glimpse of the 
 golden city, . in search of which he had started. 
 Several expeditions undertaken to reach the mythical 
 region failed, notably one in 1560 under Gonzalo 
 Ximenez de Quesada from Bogotd. The fable lias 
 occupied men's minds, among others leading to results 
 that of Sir Walter Raleigh, who undertook to find 
 
THE GOLDEN KINGDOM. 
 
 -d "??.%^a?;r<-'««<'- to Guiana i„ r,^ 
 pseudodi^overieso fS J'« *° ^« ^'^" traces of the 
 
 capital of the golden \Zr7 ^'«'gl>. showing the 
 
 ■netols, the sidewalJts th,^ fl. T''':™ '» P'-«™'Us 
 k;nd, and the wagon 3^ f,tf f ^ *'."' the*^yell,>w 
 kind; for at hand were si?Lt?-n V*'' the white 
 «''vor, and a hill „f s^^ ''\"«^ » '"" of gold, a hill „f 
 
 l«laee of snow-white marble wti' ■1^'' "^ *''« "'i'^i 
 and alabaster, all encSd bv !' S'"?" "^ P°Wrv 
 wrought cedar and ebo^v f ''^/*"'^'''«s of curiously 
 
 -vond the power of tot" 'o ";en'"''P"°'' ''«'* ^^ ^^^ 
 I he Diecionnrj'n U: ? • ^ * 
 
 Moreri-s FrenT;SS';itb'"'l'*.,>»''''t»n of 
 ^f iravel, published in ?r53 T'"'.™''?"* additions bv 
 El Borado, as situated ttwee^t^'^ *'?^ P'-°^i"^« of 
 and Aniazonos, containing *i! *?^ "^e™ Orinoco 
 
 Sreat city on ik wet e™^,^t'rf ^J a^ Parinu,, and a 
 Kroat quantities; but add,T'." i' ,'"'"•'» "f gold in 
 
 ;:;-antado,-'andthar.ni^t r t^° '" '"^''o est,t 
 
 •■'r proved to be only " bu"l 1°' "'<' ?">o had thus 
 
 -s. Hu„,boldt prLd that ,f » iT ''" '°* «^P«fio- 
 
 Nirr-*''^f^ of Man™. ''^^ '"""^ "-^ "'"'ost as 
 
 king, aj wer?:Std to 'T' ""* ^^^ the gilded 
 Kilded country, we hfv^h,, ^ '^""'^n* with onW I 
 ''""•anity than ever tL p^f ^'"Pf then more of giid 
 
 And the^oat oFgi t hS TeTn'"" !? '^^ ™"W hoasl 
 'Incker on many of them until fl ^''*"-"^' *'*«"■ and 
 ooatmg of metal of Zie k^n^ f* "^ *" '""^^ thick 
 'ver, gold, or brass s^^A • '.'^* '"' otherwise- 
 '''"od and bone, Srt and h~'' '"n""'*' "" " ™«tinl' 
 and nothing else Mom tha„ ' '"''^ ''"" "^"^^ 
 to discover the veriteW» """^ '"^ have thought 
 
 dwelt the money-gSSs^r °' ^'""'"-. -hfre 
 
 -nia,1hf s::Sr b^bMt'^ -.- the tulip 
 
 oubbie, the Mississippi bubble. 
 
 
228 
 
 EL DORADO. 
 
 what may we not look for in the book of human 
 follies ? 
 
 The miseries of a miner might fill a chapter of woes. 
 Digging and delving with eager anxiety day after day, 
 up to the waist in water, exposed now to the rays of 
 the burning sun, and now to cold, pitiless rains, with 
 liberal potations of whiskej^ during the day, and mad 
 carousals at night, flush with great buckskin bags of 
 gold-dust, or toiling throughout the long summer 
 without a dollar, indebted to the butcher, baker, and 
 gr(x;er, heart and brain throbbing and bounding with 
 success, or prostrate under accumulated disappoint- 
 ments, it was more than a man with even an iron 
 frame could endure. When disease made him its 
 prey, there was no gentle hand to minister to his 
 wants, no soft voice to whisper words of love and com- 
 fort, no woman's heart on which to rest his aching 
 head. Lying on the hard earth, or rolling in feverish 
 agony on the shelf-bed of his cabin, often alone and 
 unattended throughout the livelong day, while the 
 night was made hideous by the shouts and curses of 
 rioters, the dying miner, with thoughts of home, of 
 parents, wife, and sister, and curses on his folly, passed 
 away. That was the last of him in this world, name- 
 less, graveless, never heard froml Meanwhile, and 
 for years after, those he left at the old home despair- 
 ingly dwell upon his fate. Such cases were sad 
 enough, but there were others still more melancholy. 
 The patient, devoted wife, waiting and watching for 
 the husband's return, toiling early and late for tlio 
 support of their children, ever faithful, ever having 
 him in her thoughts, and so passing her life away, 
 until hope became charred and black, while the object 
 of all this love, of this devotion, was, maybe, spending 
 his substance with harlots, writhing under the delirium 
 of drunkenness, without at any time bestowing even 
 a thought upon that devoted wife and those abandoned 
 children. 
 
 ] 
 dl(j( 
 he J 
 eess 
 
 to S( 
 
 tJius 
 
 Son] 
 
 hark 
 
 and 
 
 and 
 
 hrok( 
 
 turhe 
 
 gulch 
 
 ness t 
 
 Soi: 
 
 dried 
 
 tile wi 
 
 in wJii, 
 
 ininin«> 
 
 and bu 
 
 like Su 
 
 town e^ 
 
 Je.ssly a 
 
 to swea 
 sports 
 iiVen vi 
 to I Jay ] 
 tJi^' cardi 
 and a du 
 ^^redioal 
 iasts, niei 
 st'tting tl] 
 wJion the 
 and good 
 
 It Was 
 
 or failure 
 a« oJsewhc 
 '!' ''I groatc 
 
 Sitting on ■ 
 
229 
 
 MISERIES OP THE MINKR 
 
 to sending it in a lettw wl^l k"^ ','' "»'" g""<l <io"vs 
 tl.us many a poor hoart ath " '*!'' °'' ^id not ; aL 
 S™>e, and as a rule th^ n f '^'""' "" »" the end 
 
 •■"'d «Pmt; «o«.e fcVrct'l'' ''?'"f. broken i, uX 
 ;""l joyous; but by fo r/'' '» ''««ltl., ^ucceSf 
 
 •'.-d'Tp in tt ::;rnt\*e^r?.V ■'f'- havmg boo„ 
 t w„,ter, tJ,us loavin^^buUiH "j-''^ fr<«en%p ;" 
 
 ouniiay tiian anv Suii.l,,, * -^^eiy day is nioro 
 t"wn ever sees. All is id ^ *''" Pf'^Porous n,in,W 
 l-«»h about the st^ets so ,? r"' • S^unt fi,r„,s fl list" 
 '" «vear at the ti^^s'a "?'"'?'! K^'berin. i„™- 
 H-rts when grunSn' Itsdfl'"^' °"' '"VS 
 i-vcn vice stagnates. Sf ', v ''"*°'"e8 unbearalje 
 ;> play for moLy or wWskev "', ""* *'"' wbereti I.' 
 'I'e cards for fun.'' Mol evHk ' ""'' * "''"ffl" an<l S 
 '"'?<«„ is looked u^o^tTT''""'""' "■■^"la<^- 
 
 J heal inen drive a fai'r traffie a,'"] ''""""^ "™""' 
 j'tscs, nienain(r in +r, "^^ttinc as louir as fJ.r. ]• 
 
 -"in^'the'^o^t S'irr'>:.'''^''-i^«S n 
 
 "b^n the fuel f„r tW ii^fc' "'^^*i'" '."»''* Previous but 
 
 tebf nTS -|«r^''-*' "- ^- 
 
 - 'ailure in^TeTnTn:: "VIT ^^at led to sueeess 
 
 - eWi^ere, were "te tl^ ^ ^''t''"'',-?-"^' b '- 
 
230 
 
 EL DORADO. 
 
 fomia, like frogs about a frog-pond, — sat thus and 
 croaked, cursing California, and looking at tlio gravel 
 bods, and crying, "There is no gold in them." That 
 did not bring fortune. Steady persistent work, with 
 reasonal)lc economy, though it seldom rewarded one 
 with a strike or a largo return, was sure to result in 
 something. Laziness and captious disquiet were tho 
 two evils. There were comparatively few miners at tho 
 end of thoir first two years in California who had 31,000 
 laid by, and yet a claim would have to pay but five 
 dollars a day to give the miner of it $2,000 at the end 
 of two years, allowing $1,000 during the meantime 
 for food and clothes. But during the earlier years, 
 wages were ten dollars a day or more, and tlie miner 
 who ctmld not get that, or twice as nmch, would stoj) 
 woik, and cither do nothing or prospect for something 
 nearer tho largo ideas brouijcht hither. 
 
 Often in making excavations for buildings the spado 
 uncovered the bones of some unknown wanderer, 
 thrust hurriedly beneath the cover of earth 1 
 stranger next to him, thrust beneath a lijjht co 
 of earth and straightway forgotten. 
 
 Very early there appeared a mania for rushes, as 
 they were called, that is, a hurrying hither and thither 
 after the echohig cry of go\d. Whole camps were; 
 thus stampeded ; at times the wildest stories of now 
 finds beinii enouiih to cause men to leave «jood diiTijiniJS 
 in the hope of findhig better. Almost all of these 
 excitements ended in disaster, like that of the Gold 
 Lake affair, about which one thus writes : 
 
 " One day, while in Sacramento city, I heard an old 
 citizen relating his experience in tho gold mines of this 
 country. Among other incidents, was that most 
 memorable of California humbugs, th? Gold Lake v\- 
 citement. I shall not attempt to follow the old miner 
 through all his mountain wanderings, nor is it noc( s- 
 sary to mention his hopes and fears, his sufferings antl 
 toils, and ultimate disappointments — but he made one 
 hair-breadth escape which I shall mention. For many 
 
 10 
 
 ■T 
 
T»E OHIO DIOOIXGS. 
 
 f '.oavil^ ,a^,, ^^, 1-^; »cl about fift^'r;,, ,7 
 s"ow „,. t|,u mountains wT "^ ""<' altlmu.r], the 
 orod with a fi„„ era" l' T^ ''''^•P' ^'e' it wtl eov 
 '.efoetoftheanimafl' "0^0^:^'^ ''"''" ''-'-'h 
 <JkI break-and sueh a breath "»/. I'owever, ti.ocrast 
 
 "' "W"' oy a roarin.r inoimfr,-. '■ " '""' swi..pt out 
 7">pl«toly arcl,ed oCr « ''""""' *'"'''' l«d been 
 <'l«orvabJe until the crust wi, ""7' "'"^ "'tiroly m " 
 ;>" ","-' very brink of tht fri Uf"',''"- O^J-'^^ro Z 
 ':"''>ly time to back out ami '^"»''K"' "''»«", and S 
 
 :"f 'r r^' "' "> «» CZ^°"; Tl» most 
 
 Antoine'S/atlTrdl,?!?' the miners of 
 "lanoli of tl,o America,. ..: ' *"** ""'•th-midill„ 
 
 nten.e„t regarding h^o™:;/^-'^ "' " flutter:'f e ! 
 
 :;i-"™^ ~Surir„v;" ^" "•' -^ ^'^^^ 
 
 a'lotlier was ready to n,i„ * '*■'" ^ ""'> failed 
 wore of worth onfv as Th "^"-V ''■'"■''"'«« w ,>h 
 /Ims time and opportmn-f l' ""?'" ''ring in,,.ra»„ 
 'mndreds when, httS >''M *■'■'"» «'« «' « 
 -^'"■^e of this exeftemerwa. , " *''" • ''""'"-""The 
 ™»onoffivemen who "ai ?h ' ""'"7' "* ^ntoi e 
 »^^>o broug),t into clmp a he?' T"/'"'" ^i""- ad 
 W'™ questioned as t, il, i •>' '"*^' "f gold dust 
 ;'".'«' it, tl,ey b^ame n me^""'""- ^5- bad ot' 
 'I'oir noses, and smile, L , "?^,l'"' tlieir fin.rws to 
 '"«» went their way Th/ "'''"^■- P'-''»«"tly tl e 
 ''f"to, and there se^n toS^T *''^''«'' *" 4™ 
 *-»eisco; hence it wastlt I,?'?'"',''""" '""'•San 
 ■' the,r mine. Eyidently ^ey t/ 'S*^ ""' ™""-«'^'d 
 -". and ret„„,i„g to -"-^10^^.:^^^^- 
 
232 
 
 EL DORADO. 
 
 others forestall them. Where were the diggings of 
 these Ohioans ? 
 
 Early in the spring of this year, three Mexicans 
 had struck it rich on Vanfleet creek, a little stream 
 near to, and running parallel with Antoine creek. 
 Between these two streams James Williams kept a 
 store, where the lucky miners made deposits for safe- 
 keeping. Williams, wishing to retire, notified all per- 
 sons to remove their deposits. With the rest, the 
 Mexicans came and took away their gold, which by 
 this time amounted to seventy-five pounds in weight. 
 Greedy eyes watched them as they went, and murder- 
 ous feet followed them. 
 
 In the last party that set out from Antoine creek 
 in search of the Ohio diggings was James W. Mar- 
 shall. They had spent over a fortnight climbing rug- 
 ged mountains, and stumbling through dark ravines ; 
 their food was almost gone, and they had turned their 
 faces homeward, when, by an abrupt bend in the 
 aboriginal trail which they had found, they entered a 
 cool, grass} glen. So shaded was it, and so suddenly 
 went they into it from the sunhght, that at first they 
 did not see the horrors it contained — here a ghastly 
 skeleton with a round hole in the skull; there another 
 with a bullet through the heart ; yonder a third whose 
 feet had caught in the vines as the swift messenirer 
 of death had overtaken him from behind. The car- 
 cases of four horses, their packs and saddles unrc- 
 moved, were found near by. One after another of 
 these dismal objects Marshall's observant eye took in; 
 then after a moment's pause, while a dark cloud 
 gathered about his brow, he said, •' Boys, we have 
 found the Ohio diggings 1" 
 
 Upon the discovery of gold within the domain re- 
 cently acquired, the question arose. Shall foreigners 
 be allowed ecjual privileges with American citizens in 
 abstracting the |)reclous metal ? 
 
 It should be borne in mind that both the Spanish 
 
FOREIGXERS IN THE MINES. 
 
 «s ma/OS WHcricani Th« H^' "'"' .Particularly of 
 tvi^r, when he found himaelPft-T""-,-^""'"''"'. !''>«'- 
 ),-ver„„,ent of the U™teJs»t "'"''■' *'''•' '""^ ""d 
 ^"^tan hi„,^,f and™i.4>t ' IT '°"'^'*™« *" 
 American, ivith his 8l reww'r • ' ."''"'*' *''« Anglo. 
 «'nsrt> ve of sharing Kr,"f '"'"''• """ be^»'''e 
 particularly with SpaZZ^^TT""^- "''"' ""'«>^. 
 claimed that Californivf f ^',"fc"^""'ri«a»s. Thev 
 
 PWns.audtheme^iXrnfr''? -^""jy^ "'"' f«rtZ 
 and theirs alone And vif r'"'""^^'"™^ he tjieirs 
 of the earth rusl in^lnli f ' ^^ ^'V'" ''" ">« ■«'S 
 pocketing the a-old ■ = -"'.^"""i? "'e lands and 
 ^^trictedi; as^ufos'XTall fo' T'^IV"'^ ''"»»- 
 
 "T ^^«««fod for the purchase ^fV" ^^"^T" " "« 
 In regard to nerniitt;!, f ^ ' " """' w deniess 
 
 «.« foofhiiis, «;rA*r£an ':;?' "^^ '" ''''^'™-t fr ; 
 
 say that his governnZT.? ""7, ""«''' truthfuUv 
 t.i.o power to\eept ICrsTfit'""''',*,'" "«'" «"d 
 velyhe might bring Itself /.V 7.'.?''^ ""'"'=- 
 the absence of govern me f '" "'<' "'^'''^ that in 
 
 K.. a unit of t^TgZrZ,^: governmental protectio ^ 
 to determine a Policra "nV ''■T'' ^'^ ^'""« right 
 ■at he had to^m^ir ri.t Tn J"' TI" '''■"'•''««-- 
 But in e„tertaini|,„ the S tin? tT ''*'' ""'ditions. 
 rKl;t to act for th? govenol . •' "',7 P/«sessed the 
 '""■'"g foreigners accesst """"''"" '"' di«al- 
 
 »™lth the American mne; fll iT'^'i''' """oral 
 antecedents, facts, and precedent t ■'""'•'"'*'• """ 
 l.at reciprocity treaties wW.s. T" !?'"'"'»' "'o'"! 
 f"r.-e.- that when no such tl ^ "''"""'"« »'ere ii 
 ""■"■"'dWtion; in feet thaf th '"' f"^'} ""•'■^' ™ 
 ."overnment had ever been lo m '' '"T " *''" """''•''■al 
 ;?"r,-,ge immigration a,^ !°ffT" *'^' '*' ''"">■«. on- 
 ' "dcr this krTown ^Sl "fl""' '«''*« to all 
 
 '" tacit consenl fo ci. S'T'*' P'tr^re^uival t 
 X;l« "ow too late to7u"",tbn ^',"? '"*''"'-' ""^ " 
 ""«■ "-" by fo.e of ri '?^, ': ;P---. or to 
 
EL DORADO. 
 
 Native American citizens objected to foreigners fill- 
 ing their purses from the wealth of the foothills, and 
 returning to their own countries. They particularly 
 objected to Chinese and Spanish- Americans. White 
 skins were for a time welcome among the American 
 miners ; but Indians, Africans, Asiatics, Islanders, 
 and mixed breeds generally, were detested. 
 
 The state of California having no title to either 
 the agricultural or mineral lands lying within her 
 limits, her legislature possessed no right to impose 
 a special tax on foreign miners as it attempted to do. 
 Nor was it for the state, but for the United States, 
 to say what should be done with the gold embanked 
 in the foothills, or who should or should not abstract 
 it, or pay for the privilege of abstracting it. The tax 
 thus attempted to be levied was twenty dollars per 
 month. The people soon saw the folly of such a 
 measure. The miners scarcely averaged twenty dol- 
 lars a month after all their expenses were paid. But 
 those hostile to the Spanish-Americans, and other for- 
 eign elements among the mining population gained 
 their point. The Evening Picayune of San Francisco 
 said on the 14th of August 1850, "We infer, with 
 tolerable certainty, that from fifteen to twenty thou- 
 sand Mexicans, and perhaps an equal number of 
 Chilcnos, are now leaving, or preparing to leave Cali- 
 fornia for their own country." It is true that certain 
 outrasjfcs committed in the south had soniethintj to do 
 with this exodus, but undoubtedly the main cause 
 was the passage, by the legislature at San Jose, of 
 the law to tax foreign miners. It would be useless 
 to deny that the first day the tax-gatherers appeared at 
 Sonora, where hitherto peace and amity had presided, 
 the community was split in two, and arrayed one part 
 ayfainst the other with bowie-knife and revolver. 
 
 It was a great error to suppose that the value of 
 gold to California lay in enriching a few trappers, 
 farmers, and emigrants. Such narrow-mindedness 
 could not compass the idea of enticing energy anil 
 
FOKEION MINERS. 
 
 capital from all nart, „f *i . ^ 
 
 -ttle»e„t and m'^Xe lopUf j' ^ -"»- quick 
 the work that u, <|er dSff"- *'°'"«^ '" ""« Vr 
 
 on Chinese laborers in the Ini °rT' '^"fy ™POBod 
 a'scniumatin.r a.rain<,f ti ^ ^e only reason for 
 
 :r 't? ^4'- crttt: sttt"« «'«' "'''^ 
 
 f "■. The miserable spirit of ,i;i " • "" "^ ^"^ *» 
 foreigners had shown ftsolf t tT''""""'""^ "gainst 
 5th of Augnst 1850, the San p'' ''■''^''- 0" «'e 
 aldermen by resolutio^ nrohH^? j^ffnf'sco board of 
 engage in drayi„„ dr vh^^, i*^ *''"* "'''«« should 
 
 boatB for the%,SVeyi:,"=„?t "'^ ™''"'"'^' ^'"vil 
 spirituous liquors. ^ * "'^ Ptesengers, or sellinS 
 
 -oy nndsuminer of IS-,n „ ■ " 
 
 southern mines with alannin'"''''^ Prevailed in the 
 mon guleh resolutions tTrirX'T:';?'';"'^- A* «» - 
 s 'ould quit tho,,e diggi '^^E t^' *" *^''-''i<-a"3 
 forcibly expelled. flowSverth « ''^'^''"days. or be 
 foreigners, not of AmIriVan, A ? o ">" »<•«"" of 
 ordered that all forSZZT ^' ^oiiora it was 
 
 f aged in ponnan'S ■J./^fPy-h "^ -re T 
 cave the country within ^ft P^**^,'''o pursuits, sl„,ul,! 
 ^^■tween the IinJs,Tmef f if ^"• «r'"« " « 
 SanFranciseoJo^n^;"/";;*'' "^ 'r>' '•"'iov; the 
 "■at the Americans had tT"""' "! "^"'y 2<), Lsai' 
 f-us and Cliilians „S ou^^'ir"*' "'•■" "" Mo.. I 
 ourna justified the H C? bee, ,'" ''""I'"--'-- That 
 atrocities daily pernefZSi 5""?uso, as it alleged of 
 Auieriean origil^-^^TK ^^ t't'""?- "^ »'^""*. 
 ;>gh enough in the seaJo of h„™ T ''"' '"" rank 
 the deliberations of any au °if ' ''"i'^ '" coniinand 
 ho dared strike a blow wb»7 '^f "'i"" '"octing. If 
 '■™n in defence of hTs w fe^ T ",'.;*J<*' ""ght be 
 ;';ayaised, and moun ed ,tn ,vitl "'^"' """'"''y 
 t" the rancheria, and shoof -1 "^"^ """W ride 
 
 ^■'"Idreii, innocen a" d .MamV „? '•""• *""""'• «"d 
 
 u ouuty, promiscuously. Who 
 
 'Jf. 
 
236 
 
 EL DORADO. 
 
 would waste time in trying savages for their lives ? 
 A whole rancheria of 150 souls, for the killing of one 
 Anderson, under the severest provocation, and the 
 stealing of some cattle, were shot down and butcherd 
 with knives in the most cowardly manner by self- 
 styled citizens of Trinity county, in April 1852. 
 Hundreds of puch disgraceful instances might be re- 
 corded had I the time, space, or inclination to parade 
 them. 
 
 Durlnor 1852 the crusade agfainst foreii^n miners 
 reached its climax, with the result that in the spring 
 of the year Mexican guerrilla bands extended from 
 Mariposa to Mokelumne hill. The Americans of 
 Saw-mill Flat, in Tuolumne, would have been massa- 
 cred on the 7th of July, but for an Italian who 
 warned them. They thereupon took up arms and 
 drove all foreigners from the locality. Many meas- 
 ures adopted to drive foreigners from the mining 
 claims with varied success might be mentioned, but for 
 lack of space I must leave them out of these pages. 
 It is worthy of notice, however, that amidst tlie strong 
 feclinij aroused on manv occasions, and the nmltitudin- 
 ous threats, little blood was shed. The Americans 
 were none of the time sure that they were right, and 
 their action was much less determinate and uniform 
 than in the administration of popular justice. 
 
 As time went by, from urging persecutions against 
 all foreiijners alike, it became directed aijainst Asiatics 
 onlv. In this cowardlv work, white foroiijners thoni- 
 selves, but recently obnoxious to American citizens, 
 were the chief instigators. By tliis time the better 
 class of Americans had given uj) the occupation of 
 minhiij : and the dreijjs of the nationalities had taken 
 their places to glean what they could from the leav- 
 ings. The latter continued the persecutions against 
 the Chinese. 
 
 The president said in liis message to congress, De- 
 cember 2, 1850, that he was at first disposed to favor 
 the plan of leasing the mines, or of granting licenses 
 
THE CARSO.V mu AFFAIR. ^ 
 
 lands againat monopoTu:^ tnd^f *" P™'^''' "ineral 
 "lent the lamest reve,^ I . ™''^ *° "le govern 
 ■•eeon,mended S' 'V^' °'! r<-™d thought ™e 
 -mil lots and Smgl Tln^lT"^ *"'™4 '"'o 
 iwlitic and impracticable p, ^ *" *"* <"!•"'% im- 
 « lo in the Siirta Co^i,, !* "Vl ' P'"™f ^■^*"'- "^Vi^K 
 secif,tcontai„edgoldf^,o ',,»•" '""'"""'"S it tS 
 on iintil he owned a barren , no, T'"^ *"'>''•«'•• «»<! so 
 guard these n.ineral gZr^Z)"' f"^'' ''''«'' to 
 the miners, and prevent ^.Tl- '""'''• *° drive oft' 
 ""'itarv force lanje^than ^ "'"*''•. ''°"'<' require a 
 "'oral /orce ten tW„,^f ^T"'^ '" Mexico,\„d a 
 »;ont was able at S^To com ^''^t^''"' govern 
 The mmers were essentTlN. •"""*"«' "' California 
 ™>gi»g over a vast Se^s't?*")^ JP 1^"' ''«'''*'• 
 a httle here and a little theS / ^''^''-fio'd^- digging 
 before finding a spot woHh^^;kZ"'^V"T' i^««? 
 
 air'^"-™-^t-SUi;::!;c:ii'r 
 
 iodt'btttT?;;::e*„^[,:.i'»'ir|eompa„iesofte„ 
 .'o">eti„,es open wa^ TouM V^T 'f '' '" '"^^ "^ 'i^ 
 ties ranging then.selves o„ either "> '^""'""ding par- 
 teeth with knives, revoho^ „ j "'''' ""'""' to the 
 ^"l'P'e..ient suits it W "d TatSV ,f' S''i'-o"ld 
 
 It IS not at all cert-iin fi 'f ^*"'ts follow fights, 
 fite of things, any lo^L-i"i '" *'"> «ien oxistin. 
 tn mnieml la°nds wou& ha *' 1 ^' T'''"^ '" '"especl 
 he niining districts oCaWo„:r1r'""'''', "^'^l.t in 
 i"" "?"<•■' accustomed to tl e r mv. ""^ '""' ''«-omo 
 file . better able to take care of H "■';' *"'' "'"^' i" 
 eastern politicians. NevertbelT'™" *'">" ^«re 
 
 ermusaft-rays which would no*',r """■* '^*''« ■""">• 
 ^■'«yegarding minemlTa^'rj'^'^ "'''•"'■ed '""'the- 
 
 f^ii^l ;-mstance the followit " """' "'''^^ de- 
 ll'" f'"o.JI5^r:^ rtifho^'iS-^ "" Carson 
 l->-ss,o„ and began to" ^^o^l'X^tCl^.r'^r' 
 
238 
 
 EL DORADO. 
 
 Mi': 
 
 )!: 
 
 claimed 1,000 foet along the ledge, being 125 feet to 
 each man. For nine months they remained in peacea- 
 ble possession, working their mine continuously. The 
 richness of the vein drew to the hill many miners, 
 who at length began to question the right of Morgan 
 and his men to hold so nmch ground ; and the ques- 
 tion of title once raised, soon the whole claim was 
 covered with squatters. Morgan appealed to the 
 courts and was declared the rightful possessor; but 
 when the sheriff attempted to place him in possession 
 the squatters declared they would die before yieldihg 
 their claims. Further than this, being greatly supe- 
 rior in numbers, they held a meeting and passed reso- 
 lutions that Morgan and his company should leave 
 the camp within an hour, or be driven thence. The 
 property in their cabin, said their resolutions, was to 
 be "held sacred." The resolutions of 200 armed men 
 against eight usually prevailed in the mines, so 
 next day all that was left of the Morgan company on 
 Carson hill was the cabin with its sacred utensils — 
 hallowed pots and kettles and holy woolen shirts. 
 
 Thus ejected from a ledge of his own discovering, of 
 which the courts had declared him the rightful owner, 
 Morgan heralded his wrongs in every direction, and 
 called upon the neighboring camps to sustain him in 
 his rights. The opposite party likewise sent fortli 
 messengers asking a suspension of public opinion, 
 threatening at the same time to raise five hundred 
 men for a flight. Meanwhile Morjjan went to Sonora, 
 where he found fifty men to jom his standard. With 
 these he sot out on his return to Carson hill ; but on 
 the way nearly half his force deserted, thinking it 
 hardly the maik of wisdom to risk their necks in other 
 men's quarrels. Arriving after night, Morgan en- 
 cami»ed with about thirty men in a canon under the 
 hill, intending next day to open a fight for the prem- 
 ises. A gun accidentally discharged made known 
 their presence to the opposite party, who, supposing 
 their number ten times greater than it was, abandontd 
 
MrNlNG LAWd .XT^ 
 
 tne place. JSTevf ^ . 239 
 
 ^'"w small a force thev h«W i ^® squatters saw h,- 
 
 and fifty anW ;i .*^'^ """^'^^^ of abc3 ' *^-^' '"^- 
 oaJni consultation, thcbS ?''' """mediately Aftor 
 
 Hance amlT ''^'^''''" "f the storv It. 
 
 Flni„,,„„ , • on Carson hill T^Jr '^''""'' '' s- 
 
 'nent tw W '"I '"<'*"'■''. 'le loaCl t i -^'""^ "'^''"t 
 '"- cnat ifanco had sohl *i ,".<"' «' 'ns ast()ni<ili 
 
 gattCfaiiiitr^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 -L'ecembor of 10-1 •>^'^^"^" over a mil I Ion ^^ '{'"ca 
 co.nm„ti:,"Teai',r^.t'>e Hill t^ 'ele .,f ""'"•^; 
 
 "in, and the courts plaee.) \r "^ ■" '""rts to savo 
 vLat ,s law without poll' f ^'*" '" f^'^^^ion Bu? 
 
 •^wcrtcl, for the countrr f.l •, ^^^' ^^'as anrelv 
 
 y;'-veu tnat Moriran shoT/M '"'"«'"? » ^^aud. Thov 
 *''ove him awav Tf , "^ ^^^^'«^ the Hill anrl t *^ 
 
 li 
 
 i 
 
 [.ill 
 
240 
 
 EL DORADO. 
 
 themselves to stand by him and support the courts. 
 During these excitements hundreds of armed men 
 appeared ranged on either side, but none were killed 
 or wounded. Here ended the matter. 
 
 The miners loved to regulate their own affairs, par- 
 ticularly mining matters, and hanging. At a meeting 
 held Sunday evening, the 20th of April, 1851, at 
 Horseshoe bar, the following pertinent if not logical 
 resolutions were adopted : 
 
 Tliat wo are in favor of law and order, and are willing to obey all man- 
 dates of our courts, and all authority coming in a proper and legitimate way; 
 but that we do not recognise tlie right of jurisdiction of our courts in cases 
 of trespass on miuerU claims, and that wu believe all ditiicultics of the miners 
 in respect to their claims can be settled far more speedily, with greater jus- 
 tice, and with far less cost and trouble, by the miners tliemselves than by 
 any court now existing in the state. 
 
 Resolved, that we are not in favor of throwing our cases into courts whicli 
 have not been found able to exercise their authority in such a way as to give 
 to the people a feeling of satisfaction; and that while we charge none with 
 corruption or dishonesty, we believe it to be the rottenness of our coui-ts that 
 has brought tliem into disrepute. We think too many of our public officers 
 are more familiar with monte than they are with mining, and believe they 
 have a better knowledge of twenty-one tlian they have of trespass on min- 
 eral claims. 
 
 Resolved, tliat we will not carry the differences which arise among us in 
 regard to leads and claims before any court until a proper one be established 
 by tlie general government; that we will discountenance all such appeals, 
 and that as for ourselves, we will resist as best we can all attempts of our 
 courts to exercise jurisdiction of this kind. 
 
 In criminal affairs, tlie miners were governed simply 
 by their ideas of right, formulated to some extent by 
 tradition, but always in the ends of justice. In civil 
 cases, all depended upon agreement, and if there was 
 no agreement, then upon custom and equity. The 
 miners of every locality met and made their own laws 
 regulating right of occupation; for the rest, there was 
 little to question or dispute about. These laws were 
 much alike in the different districts, and yet they varied 
 a little. There were hundreds of them, enough to fill 
 a volume. I give a few as samples. 
 
 Following are the regulations adopted by the min- 
 ers of the Kock Creek Ditch and Mining District at 
 a meetmg held the 1st of December, 1853. 
 
 I. This district shall be bounded by the Fordyce and Booth Rock Creek 
 Districts on two sides, the Spout Spring ravine on the lower aides, and tliu 
 
 south branch o' liock Creek on the other. 
 
^^VS AND REGULATIOXS. 
 
 m 
 
 n. All claims shall i ^ 
 
 tain to such (leiitl, „! ""'^ 'lumlred feet fr«„* 
 
 ^, "i- '^'i-t.?/j;,rt.rt"^^^^^ -*« the moun. 
 
 the pro:ipoctiui{ of on,. ,.| . ; " "'"Uglily prosDenf »i 
 
 & -' '- -; ---''S,-S^:;;- J. ........... „„„ 
 
 At a n,eeting of the „ • ' '" °' '"""■"""' 
 
 Low at the W%Z\"Z:V^'""^^ «"""- was 
 
 mnimg tlistriet; •^ -"*"' *" "rgaiiizo a new 
 
 Oi .notion of S. Jj. Herr "k thoT'lP' ^'"^ ^-^"t ''yB^-c^' '?'k' '"^ "'« 
 -^ec. I. The s ze of nl-,;!. ' '^ f"llf)\vmff laws u-o";^ . '^'"icho. 
 'ii'ui fuet lon<r n,. 1 ^"''""s on gulcl, or ..? V'^SMere adopted' 
 
 '"'=i I istrict slwli ^ 1 1 '*" Violate or refi.-^ + i 
 
EL DORADO. 
 
 9. All water running in its natural channel belongs to the miners on said 
 channel, each miner having a right to uae the same on his own ground. 
 
 10. All claims held by companies or individuals in this district shall bu 
 recorded by the 1st of January. 
 
 11. These laws are not intended to apply to private rights, heretofore 
 obtained in accordance with the common customs and usages of miners. 
 
 At a meeting of the miners of Bear river, for tlio 
 purpose of making laws and regulations for said min- 
 ing locality, it was resolved : 
 
 1. That the newly discovered mining district shall be known as Mammoth 
 Springs diggings. 
 
 2. That all claims in the bed of the river shall be ninety feet in leugtli, 
 running up or down said stream. 
 
 3. That the bed of the stream be considered that part of said stream 
 lying between its bars and banks. 
 
 4. That all claims in Imrs or banks of said stream shall be sixty feet 
 running up and down the same. 
 
 5. Tiiat notices of claims shall hold good for ten days from date of notice, 
 when, if not workeil, said claims are forfeite<l. 
 
 6. That all bank claims that are not workable shall hold good until they 
 are workable. 
 
 A meeting of the miners of Mammoth Springs 
 diggings was held, pursuant to previous notice, at 
 the store of S. M. Young, on Bear river, when a 
 recorder of claims in the district and judges were 
 elected, and the following resolutions offered: 
 
 1. That the price of recording claims shall be one dollar for each claim. 
 
 2. That when miners are working on their claims said claims shall lie 
 considered good whether recorded or not. 
 
 3. That river claims shall hold good until considered workable by a 
 majority of miners of this district. 
 
 4. Tljat the boundaries of Mammoth Springs diggings be considered from 
 \Vm Bradley & Co. 's claim up the river to Bear valley. 
 
 5. That no person be allowed more than one workable claim at a time liy 
 location. 
 
 6. That a person may hold as many claims by purchase as he tliiiiks 
 proper. 
 
 7. That claims in this district if not represented or recorded within ton 
 days from this date shall be considered jumpable. 
 
 8. As amendment to resolution, knew, too, that the time for working the 
 bed of the stream shall be the first of June. 
 
 9. Tliat a copy of these laws be left in possession of the recider, and 
 the chairman of tliis meeting. 
 
 10. That the laws of this district heretofore enacted and also the procoed- 
 ings of this meeting be published in the Nevada Journal and Youmj A me rift. 
 
 At a meeting of the miners in Nevada county, 
 January 15, 1854, the following laws were read and 
 adopted : 
 
 Sec. 1. The name of this mining ground shall be called Myres lUniiie 
 Mining district. 
 
 2d. Said district is bounded as follows: On the east by the Native Aiiitri- 
 can ravine, south by West Hill district, west by a straight north and smith 
 line running past the head waters of Myres ravine to the Yuba, thuuce 
 
LAWS AND REGULATIONS. 
 
 at 
 
 III from 
 line liy 
 Itliiiiks 
 lin ton 
 ^ug the 
 if, iui'l 
 hoceed- 
 
 mty, 
 and 
 
 llUvvine 
 
 lAiiieri- 
 
 south 
 
 I tUcuce 
 
 down tho Yii1)a to the month nf Native American ravine to the Htartliig 
 place. 
 
 lid. Each chiim shall be one hundred feet square. 
 
 4th. Each claim or cninpany'a claim shall be worked every ten days 
 Sundays excepted, with one full day's labor and renewal of notice. Wlicn 
 a coinpany lias claims adjoining, M'orking on one shall be considered as work- 
 ing on tlie whole. All claims not workable to ailvantage for want of water, 
 or any other cause, shall hold goiMl three months by being recorded, and a 
 rcconl of the causes, stating the reason or reasons why they are nut work- 
 able. 
 
 Tith. Tliat no person shall hold more than one claim by location; he may, 
 however, hold as many by purchase as are worked, according to the laws, 
 provided, he lias a ImnaJiileuiW of sale signed by two witnesses. 
 
 tith. There shall be a recorder elected for the term of one year, whose 
 duty it shall be to record tliese laws and all others that may be passed here- 
 after in a book prepared for that pur])ose, to record all claims, transfers, 
 and bills of sale, for which he shall receive tiTty cents for each claim, trans- 
 fer or bill of sale recorded. 
 
 7th. Each company siiall have its ground defined by substantial stakes, 
 with notice of the numlMsr of claims held and name of the secretary of said 
 c(imi>any on the notice. 
 
 8th. That all disputes that may arise in regard to claims shall be decided 
 by arbitration of the miners of this district, and each party shall choose a 
 <hsinterested man, and the two a third one to arbitrate the matter. 
 
 9th. That the arbitrators' and witnesses' fees shall be the same as allowed 
 by the county court to jurors, and paid by the i>arty in default 
 
 10th. That these laws may be altered or amended by giving ten days 
 notice, and signed by twelve interested miners of this district, stating tlie 
 ol)ject in writmg, and sticking up said notice in live of the most conspicuous 
 places in this district, by a vote of the majority of the miners interested in 
 this district being present at such a meeting. 
 
 11th. That E. D. Dean be and is hereby elected recorder. 
 
 12th. That these laws shall be in full effect after this date, January 18, 
 1854. 
 
 At a meeting of the miners of Pleasant Flat held 
 August 1, 1854, E. Mills was called t(» the chair, and 
 E. P. Palmer appohited secretary. The following by- 
 laws were adopted : 
 
 That said flat shall be called Pleasant Flat Mining district 
 
 Article Ist Pleasant Flat district is bounded on the lower end by the 
 caflon, or the claims known ivs Jewett & Co. 's claims, and extends up the 
 Flat to the upper end of H. H. Roberts & Co. 's claims, and on each side from 
 hill to hill. 
 
 Article 2d. Eaeh claim in the creek sliall consist of sixty feet in length, 
 extending from bank to bank, and not interfering with claims formerly lo- 
 cated. 
 
 Article 3d. Each claim in the flat shall consist of eighty feet stiuare. 
 
 Article 4th. Each miner on said flat shall be entiUed to one claim by 
 location and Ave by purchase. 
 
 Article 6th. When there i^ not sufficient water to supply each company 
 of men in the Flat, they shall be liinite<l to forty-five inciies each, witli six- 
 inch pressure, commencing at the lower co., and extending up the flat as the 
 water fails, until they are all limited, allowing the upper cos. the flrst right. 
 
 Article 6th. Each man or co. is required to have his claims recorded on 
 t}ie secretary's bo ik, and to perform one full day's work on his or co.'s claims 
 every tenth day, vhen he or co. can obtain the amount of water specified in 
 tlie 5th article. Otiisrwise his claims are forfeitable, if recorded from the 
 first of November, 1S54, until the first of May, 1855. 
 
 1,1 
 
 ii 
 
244 
 
 EL DORADO. 
 
 Articlo 7tli. No man, or company of men, shall he allnwed to put a (latn 
 or any uljMtruutiun in tliu creek or hkIo race ho a-s to <laniage tlie elainn almve 
 or IhjIow. Eacli company ia required to keep the side race in order <ii)piMitu 
 their own claims. 
 
 Artiilo 8tli. It shall ho the duty of tlio secretary or reconlcr to rucurd all 
 claims in tliu dLstrict if ruiiuc.sted hy the claim-holder, aiul to Hixfcity tliu 
 lioundarie.i of each claim or company '^ claim. For which the seeivtary .shull 
 receive tho sum of tweiity-livo cents for recording each claim. 
 
 Articlo Uth. Kach company siiall have the right to cut a drain race 
 tiirougli tho claiuH hel.iw, ami if the party cannot agree upon the amount of 
 damage, if any, tliey siiall leave it to disinterested jtersoiis. And tii.it all 
 dilKcultics arising in this district in regard to mining claims siiall ho settled 
 hy disinterested miners of tho district. 
 
 Article 10th. Tliat each company shall empty their tailings on their om'u 
 ground. 
 
 Articlo 11th. That these laws he suhject to amendment hy a vote of two 
 thirds of the miner i of tho district. 
 
 Article I'Jth. 'ihat a copy of these laws shall he puhluhud in the Nevada 
 Jourmtl, and three copies shall he posted in the district. 
 
 At a meeting of the miners of Busli Creek, lield 
 September 4, 1854, on motion, M. S. Cleveland was 
 called to the chair, and N. A. Hicks was appointed 
 secretary. 
 
 On motion, a committee of three was appointed to 
 draft resolutions for the action of thi.4 meeting, A. 
 B. Swan, H. A. Lonaa, and M. Sullivan, member.-. 
 
 The following resolutions were presented, and unan- 
 imously adopted: 
 
 1st. Tliat this district shall he known as Lower Busli Creek district. 
 
 2d. That the houndary shall he as follows: conunencing at tlie Ujjper 
 Falls, or at the lower lino of Allen's claims, and running down to the i.vW'. 
 hlasted hy Brush (."reek Co. in IS.")!!, including five claims in the Kock Creek 
 adjoining, and ten claims in Miles' Ravine. 
 
 3d. 'ihat the claims shall he sixty feet in length, and extending fmiii 
 hank to hank. 
 
 4lli. That any person may hold one claim hy location, and as many 1 • y 
 purchase iia ho may see proper. 
 
 5th. That any person owning claims in this district can leave and vacate 
 the same until there is sufficient water for grountUsluioing hy having tlieiii 
 recorded in the recorder's hook, giving numher and location of the same 
 witlun ten days after tliis date. 
 
 Gth. That these resolutions he published ir. *,lie Nevada Journal, 
 
 According to previous notice, a meeting of the mhiers 
 ot Little Deer creek was held on Slaturday. Septem- 
 ber 9, 1854, and adopted unanimously the following 
 additional laws : 
 
 1st. There shall be no dams or obstruction kept In the channel of Little 
 Deer creek during tho freshets, either at or above or l)elow low water niiirk, 
 except the dam at tho falls, which may be kept in during the freshets. 
 
 2d. That the company or companies using the water of the creek sliall 
 not tlrop t'.ie r.ame in cuts or flumes so as to prevent the company or companies 
 below taem from ujiug tlie i;ame wa;,er. 
 
I'ly tins places noriVu^,'',''''''"'^ ''"''■; a Uruor^^ ■ i . 
 
 ''■■"■« a chance toVZ ^'^^^''^''-t acce.Io to ro iL I ''f °''^"'' -^"'XW. "'.1 
 
 An Hone,t Mi.vkr. 
 ■L'et US now son Imw +i 
 ■■;S-*-l as tl.4''°H t "r7/'«f™<lo<l wl,at thoy 
 tlicTO wero t«-.> lanr,. „ ""-' '*«"imtr of 1851 
 
 One, CO,.,,,,,,,, 7% :;,X"'- at wo.-k at Col ', ^^ 
 •■■";'l'a..y, was .sued bni " H ^"7 ";' ""■■ Tu.md 
 Y tlu'ir injury. Thc^TuM,, ' '.l^ '"' ''"'i' "P «-ator 
 '0 court to ,,av s-oo ami ""yr was onlcnd l,v 
 ; '"7-1 tlK.,I. ton ZTVX:: n' '•■"';■ ''''- ™"'"t 
 ' ;'VJ-'crco, at tl.oo.vniration „n/'?-r.''<''^^«''' *" "boy 
 '" ^"h-. 1851, Ro.r,.;s t, ™'r !^.^* ","0. on tl,e 28tii 
 
 "und tl.o place gtarded l?:"'!"'^ '" '«"• " ''"»■"■ Ho 
 t': resist The IWM, ^'« "7'«d >"e" l>roparod 
 
 '^^"^•'■^'''''-'^wtijni'r^^..^:-:! 
 
m 
 
 EL DORADO. 
 
 tearing 
 
 down the ob- 
 
 yielding to necessity was 
 structioii. 
 
 Sheldon's rancho on the Cosunincs was the scene 
 of civil discord during the first days of July I8al. A 
 dam had been built by Sheldon for the purpose of ir- 
 rigating his land. But while a benefit to him, it was 
 
 working 
 
 tl 
 
 on tne river 
 
 a great injury to the miners 
 
 above, as the water flowed back on their claims ; where- 
 fore they rebelled and threatened to destroy his works. 
 Sheldon, bringing 150 ranchmen to his support, with 
 a six-pounder placed in position, prepared to resist the 
 miners. The latter, however, in Sheldon's absence, 
 spiked the cannon and took prisoner the man who had 
 charge of it. Sheldon, upon his return, finding the 
 miners advancing with axes to cut away the centre of 
 the breastwork, undertook to defend the dam, and 
 with twelve allies walked ft)rward and took })ositions 
 in different places. Sheldon then remonstrated witli 
 the miners, told them that they were trespassing on 
 his property, and threatened death to the first man 
 who should attempt to cut away the dam. Immedi- 
 ately a shot was fired from the besieging party, strik- 
 ing Johnson, one of Sheldon's adlierents, and almost 
 instantly killing him. Some one in the crowd ex- 
 claimed, "there, we've killed Johnson, now give it to 
 Sheldon, give it to Sheldon I" Half a dozen guns 
 were aimed at him, and he, too, fell dead. Anotlier 
 of his party was killed and two wounded. Several 
 Were taken prisoners, but speedily released. The num- 
 ber of miners is variouslv estimated at from foi-tv to 
 one hundred. They escaped with little or no injury. 
 A difficulty arose at Park bar, about the middle if 
 July 1851, over some mining claims. The authorities 
 interfered, but were successfully resisted by seven nun, 
 who maintained their claim in a most defiant manntr. 
 The authorities then sent to Marysville for assistanci, 
 and two oflficers, McCloud and Bo wen, came over to 
 make an arrest, but were met by sixty belligerents, 
 who, armed with pick-handles and stones, drove the 
 
LAWS AND REGULATIONS. 
 
 m 
 
 officers away. The deputy sheriff of Yuba county, 
 with a posse of 150 men, then appeared at Park bar 
 and arrested two or three of the leaders, who were 
 taken to Marysville jail and dealt with according to 
 law. The rebellion was subdued and no further diffi- 
 culty ensued. • 
 
(i- 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 CLASSICAL ABNORMITIES. 
 £a inusz auch solclie Kauze geben. 
 
 —GoeHte. 
 
 Ne nous emportons point contre Ics hojnmcs en voyant lenr ingratitude, 
 lour injustice, leur fierte, I'amour d'oux-meines, et I'ouhli desautros ; ilssont 
 aiusi faits, c'est leur nature : a'en f^cher, c'est ue pouvoir supporter que la 
 pierre tonibe, ou que le feu s' el6ve. 
 
 — La Bruylre 
 
 Phantasia, non homo. 
 
 ^ Pelroniiis Arbiter. 
 
 Mur. — We are men, my liege. 
 
 Muc. — Ay, iu the catalogue ye go for men. 
 
 -Maclieth. 
 
 Human nature turned loose into an unfcnocd field 
 cuts queer capers. This we have seen fully illustrated 
 throughout our entire study of the California flush 
 times. Why it does so, or from what turned loose, it 
 does not know. It knows that it is loosened from 
 somethinij:, and beini; like certain oases set free by 
 certain salts, its behavior under the new conditions is 
 peculiar. ]3ut the capers thus cut being of the first 
 rank, and the most superior of their kind, may l)e railed 
 classical ; being queer they may bo called abnormal. 
 Man's antics are Imt aberrations of development ; tiiey 
 are a phase of physical and intellectual revolution 
 whose origin and circumstance are according to con- 
 ditions. 
 
 Until to some extent set at libertv, human nature 
 never knows that it has been bound ; and when it be- 
 gins to know and feel its bonds, it camiot tell by what 
 powers it was enslaved. And even when its iiou fet- 
 
 (■248) 
 
 1; 
 
MEN AND GODS 
 
 "■^o «„■ s„el, word, as^^f'T-^'^ ^""M I.avol, t 
 
 '"iig "I'Pi'oiitioosliin an «,;^ ^ ' '"' ''■''8 sorved a 
 "" «"."cl to say to 1,"^.*'^?,J ';';""? °f J™rs, it wiK 
 ■■-I'fiii- along tiK, lane nf M^ •* '""''''^'•' "''y Sio lou 
 
 ''^tural and art ficial eio^ Jl ^"'™ '■'™tfd on overy 
 
 ;'«oe, feel, or tlwnk ? fiefo/fr" "''.*'''-^' '■«''"«in? 
 
 "10 men of Yortv-nino 7k *'"' ''""""S liitJior nf 
 
 «"<' -ul by lawVradSsT", ''""'"'° «<d My 
 
 .'■■•o f-ra „,„„,„,;t they wel fi '"'T\'^'"'"^^-^iZ 
 
 &'.S'"'^^^^-'«S^t,t: 
 ;.';;r '" ^-" .^ntod u,r fc: 7f, ■"""/ ti^' 
 
 ''•'"^ way roun<l tlio w„rld L , 'l,"*^.*'""" travelled 
 
 ;:;;.y .oaclK.d the .,„;r^dy"tX* ""- -'-tinati„n' 
 
 "liat a mixture of natter^ I r- ,T/''™» tlioir lives 
 
 :'"• ;""' ™Mshino still runn-r I *>' '""""' "'"l Mve t 
 "' ;l"' niiM-st of all la, ' °1,*'' T'*' «it'"'>.t and 
 
 '■■'■'« te„.i„„tion ;:, t;^:; s:i'i"'™«--- <'™ti.: h,;;'' 
 
 i;. I 
 
 'I 
 
 If 
 
2S0 
 
 CLASSICAL ABNORMITIES. 
 
 All sprinkled was the wide ocean with f3hi[)s, the 
 wavy plains with moving congregations. One is the 
 counterpart of the other ; the ocean is but billowy 
 hills and restful plains, the mountains petrified waves. 
 All the world was up, and every man wished to be 
 a-top of it; for long ages ago the golden crop was 
 sown, and now the golden har\'est is to be gathered. 
 Following the phantom hope, following the fantastic 
 visions oi his brain, starboard, larboard, now to the 
 south, now to the west and north, fitful fate leading, 
 ten thousand men were on these ships whose thousand 
 roads were here converging. Virtue, health, knowl- 
 edge, fame, wealth, and heavenly expectation all lay 
 in this one direction. Drifting south toward the 
 burning sun, I being also there, softer and warmer 
 broke the breeze upon our brow, and warmer grew 
 the waves as, sailinir southward from out the black 
 night and thundering sky, we dashed into the day- 
 light. The sky was studded with new stars; and 
 nightly came the bashful moon creeping timidly up 
 from the horizon far behind the clouds, trembling at 
 her own presumption after so gorgeous a display of 
 the sun's majesty. Round the land's end and steering 
 nortliward, with certain thousand leagues yet to sail, 
 three several times with chafing spirits in unwel- 
 come rest we lay twelve days wasting of ftimine and 
 weariness, waiting the tardy wind. Yet presently 
 with fresh wind we onward swiftly drive again as if 
 for our sliip. as for that of the ancient mariner, the 
 wind opened before and closed behind. As Anaxu- 
 goras remarked of hades, the distance to California in 
 those days was about the same from one place as from 
 another. 
 
 There arc evils springing from ocean travel, yet 
 one cannot but be imi)roved by it. Go on board a 
 steamer, shut yourself in your room, throw yoursrlf 
 on your bunk, and even amidst the frequent paroxysms 
 arising from troublous unrest, the intellect seems to 
 enlarge and become luminous like the phosphorescent 
 
 tile s( 
 Ov, 
 Passio 
 J'»und 
 
 liH-k, 
 
 I"_'oJ,s, 
 
 J iff 'less, 
 tile Sie 
 
 •Sllovvv'" 
 
 yi'iitJy 
 
THE COMING HITHER. 
 
 ~u'S ttSr'Y , ^'"'o the mindt 
 every throe of selsick^^Tnf *!f ^'P' ^ ''»ve 1 1 
 
 ''•"*■ ■"«> passing o,or it withTh- ^"°.''' "'"' "'c stal- 
 j-nes, and „11 th^S- bel„„„i„T'''' *'": ""I^^ «■'<! little 
 
 '■His, as ^'noas carried t-^^^nS^f *''!?" ^^ "^^^ 
 
 1 ™^e seen upon a bapk.rro,,„,i !,/ f f^'«"i nvor 
 ennig-strcaked cl,.ud-wa?s T,? • ■""''^' •>'"«. "sht- 
 a l-eated furnaee, ^yhl ZtZ"''^ ".' "'f'''»"Se>-^Ike 
 
 a-.<l a garden is tl,t sS rf"t,7t/''r"'' "^ Nevada, 
 
 "en gold to drink, tl e r thirs t "f'^^'T^'.^'*'*' «»^^«' 
 
 'i'ey will roar before VL 5^ '"-'"'« •'"sire, and 
 
 A-.dthi,g„u,^:X« '- word a "- -ivil!«;tir 
 
 ; wbat others have do, oX; t,'^ T"''' «'-'''«™ 
 "■e t„„e must rest satisfied %>!"" *'•' ""'' ^ f'-r 
 
 passionless plain, To^^ ttlT '''""^'' "'« Mistered 
 >"und the sunbnr, t hiUs ad'' ,°^ «'W ground, 
 >■'« k, then down where iC '""''' ""■'l''''"? "^ ■•"«-' 
 ''"'Is, and the rivers iro u, i ^'''^^ '^"'^"'^ Putiid 
 ;''l^^s, they con,e at k„T;tht%"r';'''^''"'-''=«' -^ 
 
Ml 
 
 CLASSICAL ABNORMITIES. 
 
 chasinc: hills in low rounded rvthm, while November's 
 moisture tints the gray plats with green, and the 
 swelling bud begins to push from the branches of the 
 trees their dry leaves. 
 
 " Eureka 1" exclaimed Archimedes, as the method 
 of determining specific gravity flashed upon him while 
 in the bath. " JCureka 1 " cried the gold-thirsty thous- 
 ands as, striking their picks in the gravelly bottoms 
 of the Pactolian streams, they turned up the glittering 
 sand wliich was to behoarmg balm for all the nations. 
 
 In the ho})o of a sudden ac(|uisition of wealth there 
 is that which strikes the imagination and rouses the 
 spirits not found in the patient plodding walks of in- 
 dustrj' or commerce. At such times the mind be- 
 comes so inflamed, and tlie judgment so warped, that 
 the venturer closes the eye to danger and disappoint- 
 ment, and visions of the coveted treasure only absorb 
 the mind. 
 
 To tliese early diggers California was the Ompha- 
 los, the earth's navel-stone, the very centre of created 
 things ; she was what Ithaca was to Ulysses. 
 
 A mngh, wiUl nurBe-land liut whose crops are men, 
 A land wluTc, girt liy friends and foes, 
 A nuiii niiglit say tlie thing he wouhl. 
 
 Thoy were no brainless brood of mad adventurers, 
 though among tliem were riiunv such. They were 
 gods, and god-makers. First of all labor was deified, 
 digging for gold being no child's play, but work — 
 labor and rags. Into Jove's hands was placed a 
 l)i('k, ami ^linerva was made to stand in the state 
 seat; Jupiter was not permitted to go naked, neithci' 
 nm.st he wear store clothes. Thcv themselves dis- 
 played tlieir contempt of conventionalities by dressing 
 as badly as they could, and if by chance one of them 
 became suddenly rich, he dressed worse than the rest. 
 Some, if they did not attempt the perfect nudity of 
 the Picards in Flanders, and ape Adam in paradise, 
 canie near to it, their wardrobe being shirt and over- 
 alls, with the shirt usually loft ofi", 
 
 do 
 
 Wl 
 
 uati 
 
 ncr.s 
 
 temj 
 
 a joi 
 
 W 
 
 was i 
 
 a par 
 
 must 
 
 ti \'ate( 
 S'-'Worg 
 
 tin's is 
 
 f'lMliJy. 
 
 liiore Ti 
 
 Toss 
 
 and to 
 
 ^aJls an 
 
 P''ide-ta 
 
 and fvri 
 
 iHir fru 
 
 ^y'ith t] 
 
 V't a]] 
 
 Tiiere 
 '^I'tween 
 /"■"!,'ress 
 hkv. ail 
 
 ■^'•thiiig 
 from tiie 
 ^^' 'Unities 
 
 It 
 
 t 
 
rpi 253 
 
 7 f'o devotion to a eaure'- Ll. "'"""""' "Vct self- 
 
 » i'erever the aohiovom^J rf fl" i?~"'"' »" the rest 
 ""t"lto tl.o tickiingof a fit? "''"•'"' ««•' '■« ^honf: 
 "^^'aml quacWy. Asdm 7 '7''!*'™'-«t"beel,Ja^ 
 '•■rs IS not usually rX^n'^^ I"-«fes,n,jf su,x,.rior n,an 
 
 "mi'orance hotel LCTrLll?,," ''■"' "^ '••"■■ni"." a 
 a journa <,f extra 14^.3"? P"'''-^^* ''fhn.srand 
 ,,Jlfl"^ Californfa t cb f^i?r;';^ """■■^l-Per 
 »as the bare stretch ,>f earth n ., "•>"""o'- There 
 a paradise for wild men b^ V °"'.''« more? It ^^ 
 ;"U« be swept and ga^Wstd ^"\T''^i'""'^ ixtslt 
 < '%'"ig a government v., fi "*-'^''"' * day of „oJ, 
 ■vated, ancf by and ^ "ties t !i^"'!''«''ed, Ian Is^ i": 
 *wers, ehurches, hZses „f "' '''"' "'eir street, 
 ^'ambln,,, shops, hospit* °L P~««tution, scho.t: 
 t MS is going on, inVld itio" J ■'"■ ^"'^ ^-hilo al 
 
 lll^^S^^^lSl'rfe-thela^^^ 
 
 -liicre Was Iio».q • v wits. 
 
 ;;;.;^r » •-.^■•- "g "a 7:„rihr 1' "--""-ibed 
 
 ."%"-ess, change. ° Like an tt f '''^' ''''■"""nt of 
 y--; all the foS.es of n^tl 1 "'r",'"'"'' "f "'atte 
 X.. h,ng was fixed, nothh "5a sh" r '^"''-'^ I" "'"•"^t 
 "m the shores of time in"J fi 1 "'*"«• Launched 
 et;T„ities, they cou d s m 1 boundless sea , f tl!; 
 '-^■■■o'Iingwith{heran:':!fd:S;;."- -i- of Lrlh 
 
 I, 
 
284 
 
 CLASSICAL ABNORMITIES. 
 
 Very different was the Califoriiian nation in its 
 making from the American nation. In the settle- 
 ment of New England there was an agreement in 
 religion, in politics, in morals and manners, in every- 
 thing appertaining to the new conmionwealth. One 
 was as prim and puritanical as another. All were 
 death on sin, and although they had so lately fled 
 from persecution, they were little behind their perse- 
 cutors in requiring all men to believe what they be- 
 lieved. This fanaticism was the strongest element of 
 their union, the most exalted of Plymouth-rock senti- 
 ments. In California the moral ideal was not nation- 
 making, or meeting-house-making, but money-making. 
 The meanest of occupations, however, was saturated 
 with thought. It was an epoch of expansion, follow- 
 ing a long period of concentration of ideas, both uitoii 
 these shores, among the Hispano- Americans, and at 
 the east, where intellect was more slowly but none 
 the less surely marking out the pathway of its final 
 emancipation. 
 
 There were yet new moralities under the sun as 
 well as new lands. Coascicnce, which was once con- 
 sidered an original faculty, was now regarded as the 
 product of an association of ideas. And under tlu^ 
 new survey, right and wrong assumed original prerog- 
 atives. And as the primary elements of the st)cial 
 structure in California, more than in any spot or time 
 the world has ever seen, were abstracts of the be,^ t 
 elements of the foremost nations of the earth, so tlio 
 body politic in its completion and entirety was socoirI 
 to none. Every element of pioneer character was in- 
 stinct with directness and efficiency. 
 
 For the matter of that, there were among tluni 
 men without a country, men who never had a country, 
 who, bom upon the wing, were accustomed to icst 
 on any spot where they happened to light, and to tit 
 their ears to any name given them. 
 
 Like animals of an elevated type, while the oruan- 
 ism grew rapidly, the organs of the body politic of 
 
 H 
 
 inher 
 
 robe, 
 
 noss I 
 
 her s 
 
 CahTo 
 
 Th( 
 
 m the 
 
 uousnt 
 
 <'ia] ini 
 
 will ea 
 
 that wj 
 
 nature 
 
 fL'ption.' 
 
 P'>sition 
 
 JuIIs SUi 
 
 iiivss. J 
 ^•'Uinot i 
 foine in 
 ^'le chea 
 «i leper. 
 As in 
 peacJicd 
 
^^ "^^O OF A TOV NATTOK. 
 
 California develou. > , " ""™''- W 
 
 tl.e „.„«=ierwtri?l^ .^'g-tion was good k,„ 
 *J'e brain in^^nf ,^*^"' tae bones carfJln ■ ^ ""^ 
 
 we ny-]oaves at the hn^rln • ^ ^'^''* ^ eu, was 
 
 '"'l»s on the limitlc« r " !."«'" safely launnl^ f *" 
 '■"-trained aUw '"^''" "^ *» ^-u^htT-illMu! 
 
 ■"Iiwi'tan"ran/ "".'»«»'» ii'folicities is th. 
 
 robe, dvod i,r V ?^"-"'""«'t, wl,icl, Jik *i| ''''™" of 
 
 ''«'• Cee""f """-^ into tlieiea™ f m*^"'" IV^'""'- 
 
 in tl'otvorJd.'^Butl/'-'^' ""'' *''« "*«' natured n 
 
 na 'ntore,,u^e'i,a,!rta„!,TT ''!;■«' "'"' «■"•"" 
 
\] 
 
 2S6 
 
 CLASSICAL ABNORMITIES. 
 
 esty, it was becoming really unsafe in California to 
 profess or practice virtue too boldly. It was safe to 
 display only one's vices. And it is safe to say that 
 since ante-Caisarian days, for a time three of the 
 Latin deities at least wci'o nowhere more devoutly 
 worshipped than hero : Plutus, Venus, and Bacchus, 
 each one of wliom was known to have put to death 
 tliousands of liuman beinjjcs without a liciiise. 
 
 Now and then was one as lucky as Barney O'Ricr- 
 don, who, when he was lost at sea, got hnnself paid 
 for piloting the ship that showed him the way home. 
 Others were obliged to live like plovers, that is to say 
 on little else tlian wind, yet all the while as sure of 
 discovering treasure by means of their superior knowl- 
 edofQ or luck as was William Leurand bv his scara- 
 heii'<, or gold-bug indicator. Many would have 
 turned schoolmasters like the younger Virginia scions 
 upon the bursting of the Alabama bubble, but unfor- 
 tunately there were no children to be tauglit. It 
 takes time and sex to make men, or even youth for 
 discipline. 
 
 They had no ame for law. Cases wore decided by 
 the pistol beforehand and tried afterwards. The most 
 insignificant quarrels were settled by a resort to arms, 
 frequently resulting in the murder of one of the par- 
 ties, the survivor finding it often easier to obtain an ac- 
 quittal for the crime of murder than some simple mat- 
 ter of justice hi the courts. Whenever a murderer 
 chose to come forward and stand trial he was almost 
 sure to be acquitted on the ground of self-defence, 
 though he who touched his neighbor's ])roperty was 
 hunted and hanged. In politics they were as dispu- 
 tatious as the Athenians. 
 
 Rude men formed into a new and crude society, 
 seize the few pleasures that first present themselves, 
 and if these are of a lower order than hitherto ha^c 
 been in accordance with the habits and tastes of sonic 
 of them, tlie more refined soon sink to the level of 
 the rest, and accept with thankfulness anything that 
 
e or baye, at t/,o n,„o„ f,. Lv T-'"*'"''' '''"• "'«* 
 
 " tl.c,r l.„pes until the verv- «I?1 "" ,""^ ^'"liUS 
 ]f<!« tl,o l„„.i^on. Their S^,f,"',''r "'^ ™'"'-« «mks 
 M^,r hopes, fears, lovorhate "^''^' '"''" H<1, golden 
 «■»"! Sides Streaked win, • ."'"y ^aw the7ii„„„ 
 ^I'rinkled the pll urT "•«"'<'• "'«' i'oW dust 
 
 )';;-■• it conferred 'tS-'»»eh f« /he permanent 
 ;, ' "' ".■nnmnities, as for t ,e^, .'""^ attraction i„ 
 •'"t'ouces, which is thi k P'"^'>ase of present in 
 
 ,7 """-I. to whtl VonVr •'^%»°' «bStdv 
 . n,ake rich the prji?! '"S,^; .ff Money wilj 
 ■""<' ).v having more tim,. ;. '"^ ,'^ Commerce bc^ne- 
 "■'.tals „f wheat wV fee,," "'"^^- Two thous^d 
 tljousand centals; buttw„tf ""•■«, '"""ths than^^e 
 •-llvor depreciated ZeiZ , l°r 'i1.''°"'"-« in gold "r 
 "■■' ulation will car^ o„ ,^f *'""'»? the anmu„t ^n 
 ti'"us«,d. "y "" »° more traffic than „„" 
 
 "r'o extravagent. A L^ "'"'"' "•"■ '"' desires 
 
 tie reward of g^at hanlsLL„-^':'' S"^*' rieJii, 
 
 "" "'« mduljjenco. CarnZ ;.W? , '"' ^''?''' ^''""W 
 
 e,,. ,„,.,.„ J, •' s with him such expccta- 
 
258 
 
 CLASSICAL ABNORMITIES. 
 
 tion, he could ill brook the disappointment tliafc 
 too frequently awaited his arrival, and the hopet* 
 and failures that followed only ripened him for any 
 excess. 
 
 As a rule everybody arrived in Califoniia poor; 
 many of them remained poor, undergoing more or loss 
 suffering; and yet there never was what might j)n)p- 
 erly be called a poor class upon the coast. Spread 
 out before the adventurer were metal-veined hills and 
 fertile valleys ; and with such fair provisions, united 
 with health and strength, he was rich though he had 
 not a dollar, and did not know where his diimer was 
 to come from. 
 
 To the wise man no circumstances could offer greater 
 inducement for the exercise of self-control, for indul- 
 gence was always attended with great risk to hcaltli 
 and life; and yet, self-control was about the last thing 
 of which men there were thinking. Money tlu y 
 wanted ; behavior was unrestricted. And yet, it soon 
 became apparent that in one sense the penalties of 
 extravagance and dissipation were not exacted witli 
 the same regularity in the new community as in tlio 
 old. Rioting was not attended by disgrace ; poverty 
 did not necessarily follow prodigality, nor want, pov- 
 erty. There were bushels of gold in the placers, tin- 
 property of any one who would take it out, and tli<; 
 petmiless of to-day might be the envied possessor of ii 
 pocket-full to-morrow. The improvident sometinu s 
 seemed to succeed as well as the careless. 
 
 Obviously this tendency to gratify present desire s 
 at the expense of the future arose from immediiitt* 
 surroundings, lieckless expenditures and unbridltd 
 passions were qualities not inherited from the midilK' 
 classes of staid connnunities. Improvident Englisli- 
 man and thrifty German, alike, on touching California 
 soil seemed to lose self-control, and seize proxiniato 
 pleasures regardless of future penalties. Too many 
 of them, like Ulysses in the island of Calypso ami in 
 the halls of Circe, forgot their Penelope, and guvo 
 
themseJves UD tn f J ^'^ 
 
 '"wTT- '""''""»"«'-«"*" of a „„, 
 
 Man desires f„od a,„| ra^,'", "'" ™m "fall f„rccl 
 m wJiftf .-a 11 ^. ' ®"'"o fame ami nil , •^* ®"'»e 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 Superanda omnia fortuna ferciulo est. 
 
 — Virijil 
 
 To the Greeks, Delphi was tlie centre of the eartli ; 
 to Jews and Christian.s, Jerusalem; to Californiaiis, 
 San Francisco. 
 
 Pastoral San Francisco was but a hamlet. Thou<xli 
 a seaport, it had little to do with the sea, and Wiis 
 more like a cluster of houses in the country than a 
 commercial town. The presidio maintjiined tlie dii;- 
 nity of government and war, and tlie mission the diu- 
 nitv of reliyjion, so that for the traffickers at the cove 
 little diufnity remained or was requir<d. Even wlir;; 
 the ijalvanic shock of uold-discoverv .struck the place, 
 it did not innnediately assume larijfe proportions, l»iit 
 ratlier stood stupified for a moment before settin<^ out 
 on its broad pathway of pro^j^ress. 
 
 Hence it was that durinur the winter of 1848-!) the 
 place did not grow nmch, nor was it very large l»y 
 the end of 1849. The principal Wuildings were clus- 
 tered around the plaza, or Portsmouth s(piare ; hriek 
 structures were few, and thcn^ was not one renlly 
 substantial building in the place. The gn^ater pnrt ef 
 the town consisted of tents and small shanties nuule 
 out of packing-boxes, with some not very good hous( s 
 of more pretentious construction. The f(;w travelled 
 streets were little better than mire during the rains. 
 while the sidewalks were made of barrel staves and 
 narrow pieces of board. 
 
 (260) 
 
 T 
 
 rouii 
 and 
 
 tlio 
 .'tew 
 and ( 
 
 llOUS( 
 
 stoiy 
 
 many 
 
 old h 
 
 TJi, 
 
 Peop] 
 
 UKUHK 
 
 (sweep 
 to ussi 
 •iiid j)[ 
 and te 
 witli s] 
 ers J UK 
 
 ti\e m; 
 old. 'J 
 lijied u 
 
 lii.^Ii-w, 
 and Sa 
 
 line, 
 sonie w 
 Califoi'] 
 
 'lie ,saii( 
 ai(tl)(r I 
 
 '""ek an( 
 
 ^vater, t 
 
 Justily III 
 
 TJh, s 
 
 *'n, and 
 
 llellow fi 
 
 t'UuusJy, 
 
STREETS AND BUILDINGS 
 
 ^' 
 
 The autumn of 1850 saw quite a oiiv-like settlement 
 round Ycrba Buena cove. Prices of most necessltit .s 
 and gome luxuries had come down within the reach of 
 tlie masses, but were still hijjfh enough. Seveial 
 ;k'\v j(jurnals were started, such as the Pacljlc yars 
 una ('(»n)ncrcial linlhtin. The El Dorado gambling- 
 house, from a canvas tent, had become a fine tliree- 
 story brick building. Tlie bay was noisy with steamers, 
 many of which were transformed sailing V)oats, with 
 tild litilcis whicli l)urst with the slightest jirovocatioii. 
 The tire of 18jO i)ut an end to many irregularities. 
 l*eople chen began to build in a niore fubstantial 
 niiimier. The fire of ISol, however, mad a clean 
 HWet'p of all that bad been done, and the city began 
 to assume a more regular a|)[)earance. Brick housis 
 and ))lanked streets took the place of the huddled huts 
 and tents of the previous years. The bay was alive 
 with sliipping; by midsunnner over a hundred steam- 
 ers had entered and departed. 
 
 "Old things are passing away," sighed the medita- 
 ti\e man, by old things referring to things two years 
 old. The hills were behig cut down and the hollows 
 filled ui). Alontgomery street, which was the original 
 liigh-water mark, was now in the heart of the city, 
 and Sansome street, which had been filled up between 
 Jackson and California sl^reets, was the m^w water 
 line. The wattu* lots between Montijomt'rv and San- 
 some were first j)iled, and then filled in. South of 
 Calitbinia, the steam excr'-itm' was l)usy scooping up 
 tlic saiid-ldlls, and dropping Uiem into tlu> low places 
 along the border of the ct)ve. A rail-track was laid 
 (Ml Battery street, ai>ng which cars wen- seen fiying 
 hack and forth all <lay, dum})ing their loads into tlie 
 water, the conductor, mounted on the foremost truck, 
 lustily blowing his horn to givi^ warning of approach. 
 Tlu^ space bounded by Montgomery, J^icific, Jack- 
 son, and Kearny streets was, in the s[)ring of 1851, a 
 IidIIow filled with little wooden huts planted promis- 
 cuously, with numberless recesses and fastnesses filled 
 
 iLr: 
 
 I '. 
 
262 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 with Chilians — mon, women, and ohiklron. The place 
 was called Little Chile. The women appeared to be 
 always washing, but the vocation of the men was a 
 [)uzzle to the passers-by. Neither the scenery of tlie 
 
 1)lace nor its surroundings were very pleasant, particu- 
 arly in hot weather. On one side was a slhny bog, 
 and on the other rubbish heaps and sinks of offal. 
 Notwithstanding, it was home to them, and from their 
 filthy quarters they might be seen emerging on Sun- 
 days, the men washed and doan-shirted, and the 
 women arrayed in smiling faces and liright-colored 
 apparel. They could work and wallow patiently 
 through the week provided they could enjoy a little 
 recreation and fresh air on Sunday. Whcn(;ver a 
 vessel arrived from a home port, the camping ground 
 presented a lively appearance. Round the chief hut 
 or t'lcmhi lounged dirty men in parti-colored scrapes 
 and round-crowned straw hats, smoking, drinking, and 
 betting at inonte. Most of these were either on their 
 way to, or had lately returntid from, the mines. 
 
 Walk Kearney street at night from California 
 street to the Plaza. The shops are all closed, all but 
 the saloons, mostly attended by a French or Spanisli 
 woman, and Cheap John auction stores, whose cri( s 
 in husky voice and bad breath strive to roar above 
 the jingling bells, before each door, where every one 
 tries to ring down his neighbor. Passing along you 
 step aside to avoid some reeling drunkard runniiiLj 
 into you, and as you approach the plaza, the blazing 
 light from the thickly planted saloons glows in the 
 thick, murky air without, and strains of mingled music 
 from different bands fall upon the ear. Pouring in 
 and out of temples dedicated to Bacchus and to For- 
 tuna, are crowds of people of every hue, and ton^ur, 
 and character under heaven. 
 
 Building in the autumn of 1853 was active, and tlie 
 structures were of a much more durable character 
 than was the custom to rear hitherto. Most of the 
 
 hou 
 
 com 
 
 liigl 
 
 tlwe 
 
 the ] 
 
 dene 
 
 havii 
 
 of bi 
 
 1^'ran 
 
 and n 
 
 1k' f<M 
 
 ^)r b] 
 
 '"'•anie, 
 
 J louses 
 
 Jiouses 
 
 <<»n.sid( 
 
 <|Uakes 
 
 "!^ain.st 
 
 i>tino' 1 
 
 lilon; V, 
 
 ••rait- i,: 
 
 vate iiu 
 
 tlieni to 
 
 ^\as fjiri 
 
 t'ver, tli 
 
 I'i'ick dv 
 
 «|>mo ot 
 
 South 
 
 Vontgoi 
 
 M'as t\ni 
 
 " I cai 
 
 JiiVs, in a 
 t'lo J)tli , 
 J''ars one 
 "f" San 
 
 <"<'Ugll fc 
 
 '•'ifgest cl, 
 ^"d Rincc 
 ^''''»in thes 
 
STYLK AND QUALITY OF BUILDmOS. 
 
 houses for business purposes, both in tlie cities and in 
 eounty towns, and mining camps, were of brick, not 
 liij^h but well built. In San Francisco even private 
 dwellings were many of them of brick, but owing to 
 tl>e rains of winter and the fojis of summer brick resi- 
 dences were never popular. A few years later, after 
 liaving thoroughly tested tliem, no one built dwellings 
 of brick; there arc now wooden dwellings in San 
 Francisco which cost the owners to build $300,000, 
 and not a sin<rle fine residence of brick or stone can 
 1h' found in the city. It is not the cold or damjMiess, 
 for brick buildings can be made as warm and dry as 
 IVame, though this climate does not require very warm 
 houses. San Franciscans do not care to have tiieir 
 jiouses too warm; nor with all the fogs and rains i.s it 
 considered a very damp climate. The fear of earth- 
 quakes at one time exercised the strongest influence 
 against brick dwellings; this, while there was no ex- 
 isting necessity for them, and tliey were in addition 
 more costly, and plainer, with fewer facilities for elab- 
 oiaU ovnamentation which characterizes modern pri- 
 vate iiviuses in this country, caused a prejudice against 
 them to spring up, and the fashion for frame houses 
 was formed, which still remains. At one time, how- 
 tver, there was quite a movement in the direction of 
 brick dwellings of a plain but comfortable character, 
 some of which may yet be seen at North Beach, 
 Soutli Park, and scattered at intermediate ])oints. 
 Montgomery Block, by Halleck, Peachy, and Billings 
 was the largest building of the season. 
 
 " I can well remember," says William Van Voor- 
 hios, in an address before the California Pioneers, on 
 the <)th of September, 1853, "and I am not by many 
 years one of the 'oldest inhabitants,' when the bay 
 of San Francisco afforded ample room and verge 
 I nough for the easy and unobstructed passage of the 
 largest class mail steamers anywhere between Clark 
 and Rincon [)oints; when one could make one's wiy 
 from the summit of Telegraph hill to the old Paikcr 
 
 B:tf!' 
 
 •m 
 
m 
 
 m 
 
 mil 
 
 iiil 
 
 S64 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 house by \vlndin«^ down its baro sides, now Broadway 
 and l*a( ific streets, and leaping the slough, now Jack- 
 son street, wading tlirough the bay, now Montgomery 
 street, up a sand bank, now Wasliington street, to an 
 open sj^ace, now Kearney street ajidtlic Plaza, thence 
 fifty paces soutli to the point of destination I can 
 well remember, also, when an unobtrusive casa, com- 
 pan'd with the immense structures which now rise 
 heaviiiward here and there at magnificent distaiu'cs, 
 ^vns all that, in the way of internal, or for that mat- 
 tt!r, external improvements, met the eye; when the 
 Parker house, the old Portsmouth house, the United 
 Stat(>s hotel, Howard's store, th(> venerable adohe on 
 the IMaza, then a custom-house, afterwards a broker's 
 sliitp, ami now no more, with one or two other shan- 
 ties, looked to us immigrants of '4D like ]»alaces; when 
 seraiK'd natives chased the wild bullock over the sur- 
 rounding hills, satisfying a lean lank traftic, not com- 
 inerc<s with tlie ottering of abide or horn; when a 
 Cirme.'e was a Iiisks vnfunv, and a w«»man on the 
 street-- wl\i(Ji was an imaginary line drawn in red and 
 blue ink on pastt; -board — an absolute and unmitigated 
 w<vnder." 
 
 Tl'o pihvdriver, both the ninn and the machine, was 
 an institution of San Francisco's bal>vlu>od. Without 
 tl»e driving of piles, the water-lots of tJie cove <!»«u)d 
 not be rvclainied, and without their re( lamation own- 
 ership was of little avail. The manner of it was in 
 thiswisit; fi-om one end of a lumlif-rinij scow I'ose, 
 liigli in the air, two p<n'pendi(ular beairis. betw<iii 
 wliii'h played a largo lump of iron. A primitive stcaui- 
 ongine, staniling back of tin upi'igltt beams, tlrove the 
 ma<'liinery. On or near the sj)ot destined to be r'- 
 daimed tloatod hundreds of piles, that is, young tiers, 
 from twelve to eighteen inclu'S in diameter, cut thirty 
 or f(!rtv feet in K'Uijfth, cniefuliv trimmed and sharp- 
 i.n\v{\ at one end. With its claws, vvhich were attached 
 to the e]id of a chain, the maclilne seized one of these 
 floating logs near the lar|^e end, and with a Nviieu'zing 
 
SOME OF THE INIIAKITANTS. 
 
 2C5 
 
 \v:i5 
 
 kout 
 
 Iwu- 
 iu 
 
 Icrn 
 laiii- 
 
 irty 
 I'lu'tt 
 
 king 
 
 rattle lifted it up, planted the point in the proper 
 place, bringing the large end under range of the iron 
 block or hannner, whicli was lifted up and dropped 
 ui)on it in successive blows. 
 
 The sorriest of all sink-holes was the old city hall. 
 Originally theJenny Lind theatre, which proved to be a 
 bad speculation, it was by potent, grave, and rivcreiul 
 city fathers, for a j)r<»i)er ct)nsideration of their jxK-krts 
 by the seller, converted into a niunicij)al building. 
 The price paid was $J00,000, to whi( li must b.' added 
 $40,000 for alterations. It was a i)lace that few re- 
 spectable persons would care to enter except as driven 
 there by necessity. It was connected with everything 
 unhappy, uidioly. The basement was a vault filled 
 with drunkards, vagabonds, thieves, with tlu^ usual 
 attendants on the fraternity. On the first floor were 
 tlie municipal offices, the mayor's court-room behig 
 the tnost sickening ]>lace of all. \j\) one flight weie 
 the rooms of the city council, the city treasurer's ofliee, 
 and the district court chambers. In the third floor 
 were more offices. Su1)sequently wert> addiKl to the 
 niain (edifice the old gambling shops on cither side, of 
 (•lie of wliich was niade the hall of records, and of the 
 other, offices. 
 
 A. motley crowd wns ever thronging the streets; 
 the tato()ed islander, the solenm Chinaman, and the 
 sloveidy Chilian mingled with the more dcuided wliite 
 jind blaek from li^urope and Africa. A. mighty talii?- 
 maii hiid transformed a wilderness into a place of busy 
 industry, a barren ])euin.sula into a blooming city ; and 
 the .same subtle influenc(! was sdllat work, blending 
 n.\tional antipathies with kindly spm[)iithies, and har- 
 monizing the antagonistic elements <>t' this sti'ange 
 brotherhood. Blessed be gold when it can be brought 
 to such uses? 
 
 Thus rapidly was an orderly, iiiti>)ligont population 
 replacing ti»e hurrying gold -seeker.s. Those who now 
 |»urpose<l to makt^ California their home, were resolved 
 that the scum from eastern and European cities, and 
 
 
•r 
 
 lili 
 
 2C6 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 the convicts from tlie British penal colonics, ahouki 
 not bo permitted to mar the fair prospects of the 
 state, winch sentiment led to popular tribunals, des- 
 cribed in another volume. 
 
 Hundreds of Micawbers were always waitlnjr for 
 something, anything, to come along — waitin^^ about 
 tlie post-office, custom-house, and other fedcal and 
 municipal free-soup houses ; standing in auction rooms, 
 and str<»lling down Long Wharf 
 
 The country was filled with would-be great men — 
 men who measured the greatness of their own worth 
 by the fancied littleness of their neighbor. Every 
 bosom beat high with aspirations. 
 
 I have said that in the absence of old-time associa- 
 tions, some were disposed to be lonely at times, to tlie 
 damage of tlieir morals. While this was true, it was 
 likewise true that, altlioughin a strange land, isolated, 
 without friends or female companions, exposed to 
 temptations, reverses and hardships, the 'forty-niner 
 found much in the form of a substitute for ennui. 
 There was an indescribal^le stimulant in the business 
 atmosphere, in mingling with men, not unlike that so 
 often glorified in the physical, which chased away lone- 
 liness, generated excitement, stri})ped time of its mo- 
 notony, and glued tlie heart of the adventurer forever 
 to tlie soil 
 
 A Ocrman editor of San Francisco is responsible 
 for the following, which he tells for a true story; 
 One day a German was leisurely riding ahmg Sansome 
 street, near Saerain«'nto, when he heard a })istol shot 
 behhid him, heard the whizzing of a ball, and felt it 
 strike his hat. Turning about he saw a man with a 
 revolver in his hand, and taking off his hat he found 
 a bullet Jiole in it. "Did y(»u shoot at me ?" he asked. 
 "Yes," replied the other, "that is my horse; it was 
 stolen from me a short time acjo." "You must bo 
 mi.staken," said the German, "I have owned tins 
 horse for three years." "Well," exclaimed the other, 
 " now that I come to look at it, I believe I am mis- 
 
PLAY-COmO. 
 
 267 
 
 taken. Excuse mo, sir; won't you take a drink?" 
 The rider dismounted, tied his horse, and the two 
 found a drinkitii5-sah)on near by. Entering it they 
 railed for their respective beverages, talked the aflair 
 over in a cool connnou-place u.anner, and parted 
 friends. 
 
 Doctor Ver Mehr gives to C. V. Gillespie the credit 
 of having the only carriage in San Francisco in Scp- 
 toml)er 1849. Better still, the worthy doctor gives 
 him the credit of taking him and his family up in it 
 when lie landed on the beach at Montgomcrv street, 
 iiftor a seven months' voyage round Cape Horn. A 
 Indv in a carriaire was then no conunon siijht. Pass- 
 ing up Washington street on their way to the residence 
 of Frank Ward, corner of Stockton and Green streets, 
 the new-comers met a group of Frenchmen straggling 
 along the uneven ground compf)sing the sidewalk, 
 when one of them, pointing to the plaza, then a sandy 
 lot, called out to his comrades, "Voila, messieurs, la 
 place royale !" Just then they spied the carriage with 
 its fair freight, when in an instant off' went their hats, 
 and all shouted sinmltaneouslv, " Vi vent les dames!" 
 
 Many theatres and otlier places of amusement 
 sjirang up, in which the performance and attendance 
 v.'ere both good. The stork companies were far above 
 tlie average in Europe and the east. In California, 
 poor acting, like poor ])reaching, or poor horse-racing, 
 (lid not pay; it recjuired more than ordinary ability 
 jimong the performers to hold in their seats for two 
 or three hours their discriminating and restless audi- 
 ence. Somewhat expensive it was for the young mer- 
 eliant or salaried clerk, but wliat were they to do after 
 wnik, with no home and no congenial female society? 
 Almost anvthing was better than loiterhiLir about 
 gambling saloons, or other dens of vice, with which 
 the town was filled, and which it was difficult always 
 to esca[>e. 
 
 So it was that Callfornians were groat play -goers, 
 and in their gatherings might bo seen as varied a 
 
268 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 crowd as over gathered in the foreigners* gallery of 
 an Athenian theatre in the days of Euripides. An 
 English sailor might be seated beside a Boston mer- 
 cliant; a hybrid — half Aztec, half Spaniard, beside a 
 French nobleman ; a Sweedish consul beside an 
 Italian fisherman ; farmers, mechanics, and miners all 
 tosjether. Amonij the men and women of the statje 
 time throws a glamour which softens their ruder 
 parts, and heightens the charm all feel in their tragic 
 and comic fictions. 
 
 The effect of the drama on California was most 
 beneficial. The craving for excitement had become 
 to the people a second nature. Business gave the 
 mind employment during the day, but at night recrea- 
 tion seemed necessarv. In the absence of home and 
 Social tics, the Ljaiiiin<jf-tablc asid the *jlitteri:i«; saloons 
 of prostitution wore too often the resort of men too 
 good for such places ; but when theatrical performances 
 of the better sort were offered, there was a marked 
 decline in the patronage of the gaming-table and 
 liquor saloons. The tastes of the conmmnity were 
 not so low as circumstances had hitherto made thent 
 appear. As anmsenients of a higher order were intro- 
 duced, those of the baser sort lost their charm. As 
 early as IS.*) I there was scarcely a mining town of a 
 thousand inhabitants without its tiieatre. 
 
 To the homeless, liouseless wanderer the theatre 
 was a blessinuj. And notwithstandini; all that has 
 i)een said of San Francisco looseness and inunorality, 
 tliere never was a time wlien a licentious drama was 
 cncouragi'd, or even tolerated. Far above the a\ t rage 
 tlieatre-goer of New York, London, and Paris, in 
 rv 'fined taste and appreciation were those of San 
 Francisco. 
 
 Lovers of tragedy who attended the Jenny Lincl 
 on the niiiht of the 14th of Januarv 1851 to witness 
 rizarro, were regaled witji a recital of real life which 
 ecjualled anything tluy might Jiavc seen upon the 
 stage. It appears that Airs lianibleton, who was ti) 
 
THEATRES. 
 
 269 
 
 have acted a part that night, did not live in harmony 
 witli l»er huslmnd, but found the society of Mr Coad, 
 a member oi" the same company, more congejiial. 
 Matters Iiad not proceeded far when Mr Hambleton 
 brought on the climax in a storm of passion. Con- 
 fronting the lovers, who were guiltless of any crimi- 
 nality, he made the man promise to quit the country 
 instantly. The woman seeing all hope of happiness 
 liad gone, took poison and died; whereat Coad also 
 took poison and attempted to die, but could not. 
 There was no performance at the Jenny Lind that 
 night. 
 
 Jeems Pipes to the San Francisco Eveiunfj Picayune 
 writes from Sacramento the 2 1st of August 1850: — 
 " To dessippate my retched sonsa}' shuns I go to the 
 M street Pmificke Tlirnire; by the way, one of the 
 most perfekt spcciments of arkitekshure in the wurld. 
 The band led by Mons Bona were a playin a Jenny 
 Lind poker, and the ordience, graced by sum hiterest- 
 ing phemales, wos quite large, orderly, and respekta- 
 bel. The play was * Honey Moon,' Mr ami Mrs 
 Tliorne, from Chatham Theatre, the principal attrak- 
 shun. Six months ago upon the same spot wos I 
 sittin on a lo<:c, wittling:, and nuthinu; to see but 
 stumps, and treas, and a few dirty tents — so nmch 
 for the go-ahedativeness of Amerikans." 
 
 The signals on Telegraph hill became so many 
 and so intricate, and withal were so important to anx- 
 iously gazing expectants, that an enterprising lithog- 
 rapher conceived the idea of putting them on a chart 
 where all could see and learn tluMu. ( )ne night sliort- 
 ly after tlie publication of this chart, a niiWKboy sat in 
 the top loft of the theatre, cracking peanuts, and criti- 
 ( ising the sons and daughters of Thespis, as they 
 strutted their brief parts before him. Presently one 
 rushed upon the stage with arms extended at right 
 angles with his body, and exclaimed, •' What means 
 this mv lord?" The bov who not onlv knew well the 
 chart, but whose fancy was then revelling in the an- 
 
 
m 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 Ir 
 
 ticipated profits of his paper, cried out, " Side-wheel 
 steamer 1' The house, and the actor's arms, came 
 down simultaneously. A story is like-wise told of a 
 newly arrived emi<rrant across the plains, who, in ap- 
 plying; this chart to the interpretation of the signals, 
 mistook a windmill which st«)od near by for the arms 
 of the telegraph, and counting u[) the fans concluded 
 that a fleet of clippers was coming in. 
 
 Twice or thrice a month the mail steamers, connect- 
 ing San Francisco with New York by way of Panamii, 
 departed and arrived. Both were peculiar and nota- 
 ble occasions. It is difficult for one who has not lived 
 it through to realize with what nervous pulsations 
 these vessels were watched as they came and went. 
 California was then well-nigh out of the world, be- 
 yond the pale of civilization, of sabbath and home in- 
 fluence, of all the sweet memories and amenities that 
 make life endurable. Her people were voluntary 
 exiles, cut ort' from friends and all congenial society, 
 doomed for a period to a life of self-abnegation and 
 hard labor, and these days of steamer arrivals ami 
 departures were as links in the life-chain that was to 
 bind tlie future to tiie past. The present went for 
 nothing, or worse than nothing, pcrliaps ; for it might 
 be a niglitmare, a horrible dream, a something to be 
 blotted from the memory as soon as ended. Wiicn 
 the steamer came in with passengers from home — tlu; 
 whole eastern seaboard, and west to the IMissouri rivt r, 
 was then home to the expatriated of California — witli 
 perhaps friends on board, but abt>ve all with letters, 
 what a flood of tender recollection rushed in U[)on the 
 soul ! 
 
 Therefore when the signal flag was unfurled, and 
 the wind-mill looking indicator on telegraph liill 
 stretched forth its long ungaiidy woouen arms and told 
 the town of a steamer outside, a thrill went throujjh 
 the heart like that which Gabriel's trumpet sends 
 into the fleshless bones of the dead. Some rushed 
 
 tot 
 
 clifl' 
 
 line 
 
 as fi 
 
 appc 
 
 grov 
 
 as it 
 
 boar 
 
 (rate 
 
 put ( 
 
 antin 
 
 Alerc 
 
 iiies' 
 
 steam 
 
 the n 
 
 the m 
 
 ing W( 
 
 Tlu 
 
 and n 
 
 ness-ii 
 
 l*rou<l 
 
 citv h'i 
 
 •nultiti 
 
 djsdain 
 
 Now s 
 
 stretcii 
 
 •IS she < 
 
 •shore b 
 
 are tJie 
 
 may be 
 
 tliat sea 
 
 tlie ripi 
 
 stronger 
 
 ►Some a 
 
 •'uriosity 
 
 side of 
 
 ^vllarf; o 
 
 .ship is wi 
 
ARRIVAL OF THK STEAMER. 
 
 '271 
 
 to the liilla; others mounted horses, and riding to the 
 <'liff, watclied the httle cloud of smoke under the sky- 
 line thicken and blacken; watched the vessel emerge 
 us first the smoke-stack and spars, and then the hull 
 appeared above the horizon ; watched the little speck 
 grow into a great leviathan, as lazily — oli 1 how lazily 
 us it appeared lo those on shore as well as thoso on 
 board — it ploughed the sea and entered the (;ro]den 
 (irate ; then returning, watched the little bouts as tliey 
 put out from shore to board the monster — the quar- 
 antine officer's boat, perhaps, with the yellow flag, the 
 Merchant's Exchange boat, and the express compa- 
 nies* boats; watched the white smoke from the 
 steamer's gun curl up and float away in clouds, while 
 the report reverberating through the streets roused 
 the more abstracted occupants from their soul-absorb- 
 
 my: work. 
 
 Then a stream of hacks, and wagons, and tlrays, 
 and men on foot, hotel-runners, working-men, busi- 
 ness-men, and loafers, set in toward the wharf 
 IVoudly the great ship sweeps round the bay to the 
 city front, as if conscious of the admiring gaze of the 
 nmltitude; leisurely, and with majestic dignity, as if 
 disdaining to make an exhibition of her strength. 
 Now she stoj)s her wheels, and yawns, and blows, and 
 stretches her neck, after her fortnight's journey ; then 
 as she drops hito her berth, the crowds on ship and 
 shore begin their noisy jests and salutations. Hearts 
 arc there heavy with anxiety, waiting for tidings it 
 may be which will affect their entire future; but on 
 that sea of upturned faces you find no lowering clouds; 
 the ripiding waves are wreathed in smiles, ami the 
 stronger surges break into hilarity and badinage. 
 Some are there to meet their friends, others from 
 curiosity ; some have climbed from small boats u[) the 
 side of the vessel while she was aj)proaching the 
 wharf; others stand on the tops of piers, and when the 
 ship is within a few feet leap on to the deck, where theie 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
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 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, NY. 14S80 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 

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272 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 is a scene of embracing, kissing, laughing, and crying, 
 impossible to describe. 
 
 The passengers land and make their way to the ho- 
 tels, when they luxuriate in a comfortable room, bath, 
 and a table from which food once more seems palata- 
 ble ; clothes are taken from the trunk and put on, the 
 creases in which mark the wearer as a new comer. 
 Meanwhile lines begin to form at the post-office win- 
 dows, although it may be twelve or twenty hours be- 
 fore the mails are ready for delivery. Thither con- 
 gregate the anxiously expectant, the husband and 
 father hungry for news from home, the lover with 
 soft eyes and flushed cheek and tingling nerves, and 
 in whose breast angels and imps alternately beat their 
 tatoo as he waits to learn his fate ; the rough miner, 
 tlie merchant's clerk, the mechanic. Ah 1 never were 
 letters so longed for or so prized. Alone in that mot- 
 Icy crowd, for months without one word from home, 
 the heart steeled to the world around them, deadened 
 in that social Sahara, here was the only solace for 
 heart-sickness, the only sustenance the soul would 
 have perhaps for months to come. 
 
 Rapidly the lines lengthen, until perhaps five hun- 
 dred persons are gathered there, having the appearance 
 at a distance of a mob, but with the utmost order and 
 regularity, each new-comer taking his place behind 
 the last before him. There is no respect of persons, 
 no crowding or jostling ; any attempt at unfairness is 
 speedily put down by the omnipotent majority. The 
 raganmffin, who everyone knew never wrote or re- 
 ceived a letter in his life, might take his stand besit!(^ 
 the millionaire, and sell his place as opportunity oflercd, 
 when near the window, to some one whose time was 
 more valuable than money, which he frequently did 
 for five, or ten, or twenty dollars. Some bring thoir 
 stools and while away the time reading, smoking, and 
 chewing. Eastern papers are sold by the newsboys, 
 peripatetic cafes and liquor saloons walk about on 
 French legs, and hand-cart hotels are rolled along tlio 
 
 Jinei 
 
 dow 
 of a 
 St 
 ages, 
 cursi. 
 disco 
 awak 
 rare c 
 iucn £ 
 of tlie 
 cisco. 
 conjpL 
 shirts 
 and s]< 
 scarcel 
 seem ? 
 see We 
 disguis 
 tlieni ? 
 Loo]< 
 telj nie 
 witJi; . 
 find no 
 tough, 
 iioart w 
 Jiie if yo 
 or paJac 
 
 'ittentivc 
 
 'lo Avho I 
 
 ';«ard fro 
 
 pulse is 
 
 iHftn. TJ 
 
 «ort ofga 
 
 'juently s 
 
 On nea: 
 
 anxious. 
 
 Cal. 
 
AT THE POST-OFFICE. 
 
 fil> 
 
 lines dispensing the ordinary edibles of the table. 
 Finally, after long and tiresome waiting, the office win- 
 dow is opened and the line moves forward at the rate 
 of a step in about three minutes. 
 
 Standing in those lines through hours that seem like 
 ages, outwardly jocund, but inwardly bleeding, the 
 cursings and ribald jests that fall upon the ear mingling 
 discordantly with the purest strains of human affections 
 awakened by tender thoughts and heart-longings, a 
 rare opportunity offers us to see of what stuff thi!se 
 men are made. They are rough-looking fellows, most 
 of them, even if our post-office be located in San Fran- 
 (isco. IVIany of them fossil-featured with bronze 
 complexion, shaggy-haired and unshaven, have torn 
 shirts and ragged pantaloons; while their heavy boots 
 and slouched hats are so worn and full of holes as 
 scarcely to hold together. Are they not what they 
 seem ? Does their aspect in any way belie them ; or 
 see we here men of sovereign and elastic natures so 
 disguised that even their mothers would not know 
 them ? 
 
 Look into their eyes as you go along the line and 
 tell me if you discovered much that you dare trifle 
 with ; look under the unkempt hair and tell me if you 
 find no intellect, and through the worn vestures and 
 tough, storm-beaten flesh-coverings down into the 
 licart whence ebb and flow the issues of life and tell 
 me if you see there no pleasing pictures, no gardens 
 or palaces where truth and loveliness sit enshrined. 
 If you would know somewhat of them, regard them 
 attentively as they receive and read tlieir letters ; for 
 lie who can open a letter from the home he has not 
 licard from for months without a flush or quickened 
 j)ulse is either a very courageous or a very callous 
 num. This letter-opening at very wide intervals is a 
 sort of gambling with fate, in which hope not unfre- 
 (juently stakes happiness against fearful odds. 
 
 On nearing the window the face lengthens and looks 
 anxious. The name is given, and the response comes 
 
 Cal, Int. Poc. in 
 
 • ) 
 
274 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 "Nothing, sir." "Will you please look again says 
 tlie disappointed applicant "I canie round Cape 
 Horn ; they were to send me letters after I had been 
 out a month and it is now six months since I havo 
 heard a word." "I told you, sir, there is nothing 
 hero for you ; the next." This time a letter is forth- 
 coming. Stepping aside, with trembling hand the 
 recipient tears it open and begins to read. Mark the 
 pallor that shortly overspreads the countenance, the 
 stiffening of the muscles of the face, the compression 
 of the livid lip, the wave of agony that mantles the 
 features. In a moment the blood which from every 
 part with one accord rushed to the heart to bi'cak it, 
 returns, but you can see as the man moves off that 
 he is stricken as with a knife-stab, without the mut- 
 tered "Oh God, she is dead!" The next in line may 
 be as frantic in his joy as the other was desolate in 
 his sorrow. All unconscious of his surroundings, ho 
 laughs aloud, kisses the precious missive, and skips 
 and dances like a delighted school girl. 
 
 There stands one, a man of middle age, noble look- 
 ing and apparently of decided character, intently 
 perusing some closely written pages. He was and 
 yet is honored by his friends at the east, who say if 
 one only escape with honor it is he. Of the church 
 he was a trusted member, in his family an adored 
 husband and father. So great was his own inward 
 sense of strength and right intention that he scorned 
 the idea of demeaning himself, and gave it scarcely a 
 thought. But like every member of the race, he 
 knew nothing of himself until he was tried. Cali- 
 fornia opened his eyes, as thousands of othci*s liave 
 been opened, and showed him a nature wholly differ- 
 ent from what he supposed himself posscaf«ed of. 
 Instead of high religious sentiments and moral purity 
 hitherto enjoyed, he finds himself in the society of 
 harlots, a gambler, an unbeliever. Yet as he reads 
 that letter, written by a tender loving wife whore 
 faith and trust in him the whole world shall iiot shake, 
 
STEAMER-DAYS. 
 
 273 
 
 telling him of her deep abiding love, of her patient 
 waitings and watchings, of her deeds by day and her 
 dreams by night, of the hopes and plans that await 
 his dear return ; telling of his children one by one, 
 how they have grown in goodness and loveliness, how 
 the little one, whom he has never seen, has learned to 
 lisp its father's name in its evening prayer — as he 
 reads the letter which thus so vividly recalls tlie swet t 
 and hallowed past, you may mark the twitcliing of 
 the muscles in his face, the tears trickling down lii?4 
 cheeks, and the bosom swelling with emotion. Gijin*' 
 to his room he reads and reads again tlio letter, vows 
 reformation ; but over this oasis of his desert life the 
 sands quickly blow, and he soon goes on the old licen- 
 tious way again. 
 
 Steamer-days, the day before the sailing of the 
 steamer for the ea^, were the great tickings in social 
 and conmiercial time. Bills were made to fall due on 
 those days, letters must be written on that day, and 
 collections and remittances made. Passenijjers nmst 
 get ready, and if not done before, they nmst secure 
 tlieir tickets. They were feverish, fidgety days. 
 From morning till night collection clerks with a pack- 
 age of bills in one hand, and the mouth of a canvas 
 coin-bag slung over the shoulder in the other, were 
 rushing about the streets, and seldom was tlie office 
 lamp extinguished before twelve or two o'clock. 
 
 On the morning of tlie sailing of the steamer, all 
 work having been finished the day or evening previous, 
 passengers go on board, attended by their friends to 
 see them offl The idle and the curious of every caste 
 and calibre likewise crowd the wharf and decks for an 
 liour or two before the departure. Trunks are taken 
 on board; the passengers, laden with packages of 
 fruit, books, bottles, and boxes, find their respective 
 places. In the cabin, the black bottle Is frecjucntly 
 passed around, and champagne made to flow freely. 
 The forward part of the ship is filled with miners, go- 
 ing home with all the prestige of travel and ad^•cnture 
 
276 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 in strange lands. It is a matter of pride with many 
 to be seen by their friends in their mining costume ; 
 so the bushy head and long beard are protected with 
 care, and every hole in the battered hat, every patch 
 in the woollen shirt, every dirt-stain on the greasy 
 pantaloons, are regarded with hallowed affection. Thus 
 appeariii:j in his native village, with hints suggestive 
 of secreted gold-dust, and inuendoes which seemed 
 to say, " I could tell you a thing or two if I liked," 
 "Perhaps John Robinson came back without his pile, 
 and perhaps he didn't," the returned Califomian is the 
 hero of the hour. 
 
 It was a common remark that more money went 
 east in the steerage than in the cabin. Some canied 
 buckskin bags of dust in their pockets, others in belts 
 under their shirts, and guarded by an ominous-looking 
 navy revolver. Experience had made many shy of 
 entrusting their hard earnings to banks and express 
 companies, and freight on gold was high. Sometimes 
 a party of two or three would put their fortunes in a 
 carpet-bag, ten or twenty thousand dollars' worth of 
 gold-dust, alternately guarding it, and never leavhig 
 it unwatched for a single instant during the whole 
 voyage from San Francisco to New York, thereby 
 saving in exchange the price of passage for each of 
 them. Notwithstanding all their care, many return- 
 ing miners were robbed by professional sharpers, who 
 infested all the main avenues of travel, and followed 
 their vocation regularly on the steamers between As- 
 pinwall and New York. 
 
 In the steerage also were many penniless persons, 
 broken in health and spirits, going home to die. There 
 were those, pusillanimous and disgusting individuals, 
 eaten up of disease, already morally dead ; there vfcrc 
 self-pitying unfortunates, whining and complaining, 
 whom success never attends under any circumstances, 
 and who never should have left their mothers' apron- 
 strings; and there were those who had manfully 
 fought the battle and been beaten. Faithfully and 
 
 a per 
 To 
 confir 
 the 
 to be 
 talk; 
 chang 
 and as 
 from 
 lookin 
 meet ( 
 Were c 
 commt 
 taste 
 fancy 
 
 nature I 
 UifluenJ 
 
LETTERS FROM HOMR 
 
 277 
 
 J)atiently these last had toiled and suffered, hope and 
 ear alternatmg between fortune and disease, unwilling 
 to give themselves the needed rest and care with 
 wealth and happiness just within their grasp ; and so, 
 with their thin pale faces, and sunken eyes, and hollow 
 cheeks, they feebly drag themselves about with hope 
 crushed, and this world forever lost to them. God 
 grant that they may find some soft hand and sym- 
 pathizing heart to smooth their dying days I 
 
 The periodicity of this business phenomena contrib- 
 uted largely toward a fitful and spasmodic progress. 
 On these occasions the past and future seemed to 
 mhigle with the present, and hope, regret, and doggetl 
 determination filled the heart with lontjings indescrib- 
 able. Likewise the custom of merchants, and indeed 
 of all classes, of making frequent or occasional trips to 
 the east, for the purpose of seeing their friends, at- 
 tending to business, marrying, or bringing out a family, 
 exercised a strong influence upon the development of 
 rharacter in California. Even miners, in some in- 
 .stances, would make their periodical migrations, spend- 
 ing a season, as they called it, in the mines, and then 
 a period of rest and pleasure at home. 
 
 Tom suddenly from the dail}^ monotonous struggle, 
 confined for twenty or thirty consecutive days witliin 
 the narrow limits of a steamship, there was nothing 
 to be done but to sit down and think, or read, or 
 talk; and this meditation, or series of meditations, 
 changed the whole course of many a life. Thouglits 
 and aspirations then arose, which, but for this isolation 
 from business, never would have been conceived; 
 looking out upon the sea, time and eternity seemed to 
 meet on the distant horizon, the windows of the soul 
 were opened, and God and nature admitted to a closer 
 communion; the ideal of manhood was elevated, a 
 taste for travel and improvement was engendered, 
 fancy was set free, the mind broadened, and the whole 
 nature of the man enlarged under these beneficent 
 influences. 
 
 ijiii 
 
 W 
 
278 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 Letters from home 1 blessed be letters I Though 
 they come travel-stained from a voyage of seven 
 thousand miles, across two oceans and a continent, 
 they are as fresh with old associations, as fragrant 
 with sweet reminiscences as if penned but yesterday. 
 How like angels' visits they come at steamer intervals, 
 and what a spell their presence casts, freighted as they 
 are with love and kind greetings. Many a time have 
 I sat at my table, far into the night, opening one 
 after another from a pile of business correspondence 
 before me, having first selected and placed unopened 
 on one side, yet not so far away but that my hungry 
 eye could rest on them, all that breathed of tender 
 memories and pure affection, resolutely holding them 
 there, the best for the last. There they lay filling 
 the room as with a spiritual attendance, throwing 
 their magic influence into every fibre of my being, and 
 dimming with moisture the eyes that would not cease 
 to look on them. Then with what tremulously sweet 
 and bitter emotions T would take them up and break- 
 ing the seals, let into my fluttering heart the soothing 
 stream oi mellow memories, drank once more from 
 the fountains of my youth, and bathed my weary soul 
 in the sacred atmosphere of home. Sweet silent 
 messages, whose witching presence can so wean our 
 sordid vision from the seducing mirage of glittering 
 dustl 
 
 An impecunious discouraged young man digging 
 at Columbia, who had found his friends at home de- 
 linquent in writing to him, determined to bring a re- 
 sponse if it lay in the power of ink and goose-quill. 
 Accordingly he seated himself and wrote three or four 
 old gossips asking the price of land, and stock, what 
 advantageous investments offered, what a fine farm of 
 two or three hundred acres could be purchased for — 
 since which time during his stay in California there 
 was not a mail but brought him letters. 
 
 The new post-office building, now in the autumn of 
 1852 fronting on the plaza, and extending from Clay 
 
 toC 
 affai 
 was 
 
 stree 
 edito 
 Tlie 
 the \ 
 tlie SI 
 Prob 
 a vari 
 ploy E 
 iVenc 
 there 
 contin 
 cific. 
 the Sa 
 steanie 
 sent a\ 
 twice a 
 thousai 
 to disaj 
 The 
 I find 
 1851. 
 hi San 
 which . 
 obJitora 
 covering 
 remain 
 tide of ii 
 The Olc 
 among 
 the Apol 
 — have c 
 warehous 
 land-mar] 
 stairs, at 
 Wliarf. 
 along the 
 
 11 
 
 1 
 
 t 
 
OLD LAND MARKa 
 
 was an entnmce at CtheJ.V^A^^""^*^"- T"'«'-e 
 ^1^1 to street. Tl,e Fren"),^ thl " P"'^«'"^ f""" 
 editors eaci. had a part asSed ev!.I*°"";"' *'"' «'« 
 
 the building, but thlvrnTtl^," "''i?'" '™Sth of 
 Oie stea«,ers led into and far T !^ ,"■; ^''^ ''™val of 
 Probably never a Dost ,7ffi„ "^ *?'' ''""'n the street 
 variety of langua.^sl^^f.T"?^ '^"^"^ i" "ue 
 ploy a Chinan,a°n, af J'elerks w, ""' """'*^'7 to en, 
 l;>ench, German; Spantj, a„??t"!'''"''^«' ^"^i"". 
 there were letters fion. Sw,^"^/v """• ^<i<^ «hich 
 cont,„e,,tsofAsiaandAfr"ra^^!^'"^r'/«la»d.the 
 "ftc The average nuiulx^r ofll '/'""dsof the Pa- 
 theSan Pranci^o posUffi^e ^n [b "''".'■T'^«'"'y 
 steamer, was sixty tliousand „ ?.?** *"'™' "f eaeh 
 sent away by ea^hst^al^t' "ft *':t''^"'^Se number 
 twice a month ten thouZd n! ^ *'>""»a'«l-leaving 
 
 '.San .tsrtr- ^-^^^^wSs 
 
 whieh have so frequenU ' Ct^ "**>'• The fires 
 "WitcTated many, ajid Z math If' """ "'^ ''^ve 
 eovenng the rest, so thatin a^?,„f •""P^^n'ent '« 
 remam to show how San vt ■ '""*' ""thing will 
 "«°f {""nigration SmZZn^Tol f*'^^,''''^" the 
 The Old Adobe, the Citvwl iT "^" ■>«■■ chores, 
 among the things that wif 'h il " H ^t?-"'™' «'« 
 the Apollo— evidences of *t . " *''® Niantir and 
 -have disappeared :nd^^t^"'7rise of a later da e 
 warehouses built ok solid e„wi ^'A'^"" ^^"'^ la>ge 
 land-mark, is now abou bei„f re °"^°^ '""^ '"^t 
 stairs at .,hat used to bTTlfe '^'"°^e'^_the boat- 
 Wharf The steam paddv h^ d "''Ti'y "^ Long 
 along the old wharf Une and ,b» ''7''^ '*' »»'! «" 
 
 ' *"" *''e stws are rapidly 
 
280 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 siglit. 
 
 covered. Another week will put them out of 
 
 
 It is melancholy to see these old, well-known 
 relics di8appearin<; from our midst. How many a 
 hopeful man has landed on those stairs, whose bones 
 lie bleaching on the plains or in the ravinos of the hi- 
 hospitable Sierra I How many a sanguine youth, the 
 joy and hope of a loving family, lias bounded up then, 
 buoyant with hopes never destined to be realized I 
 Great hearts have passed those steps ; honest hearts, 
 biy: with determination to win a fortune in this j;oldcn 
 land, not for themselves, but for those whom they 
 loved better than life. Alas 1 many such are broken 
 with grief ere this. 
 
 " We well remember the scenes which used to bo 
 enacted on those steps in olden times, at the arrival 
 of the monthly steamer. The crowd of emigrants 
 gazing in astonishment at everything they saw ; the 
 few females who did arrive shrinking in terror from 
 the red-shirted men, bearded like pards, whom they 
 saw around them; the eager and heated boatuien, 
 pushing, tugging, and swearing, in order to get first 
 to the steps; the news-venders, with their dollar 
 Heralds and Tribunes! Ah I those were fine old times, 
 after all. 
 
 " But think of the treasure which has gone down 
 those steps 1 The millions and millions of dollars, 
 when the -steamers were about to leave I Rough, 
 plain, and unfurnished as they were, none have ever 
 borne one half the treasure which has passed down 
 them unnoticed. They have been the funnel through 
 which all the gold of California has been poured upon 
 the world. 
 
 "A fairer morning never rose on earth. The clear 
 blue sky hung above, and the pure atmosphere, 
 through which the mountains twenty miles away 
 could be traced to their every furrow, enveloped the 
 city when she arrived, a girl of eighteen summers, as 
 beautiful as the day itself, clad in her bridal robes. 
 
 She 
 
 and 
 
 passi 
 
 <'ouI( 
 
 But 
 
 brigj 
 
 trod 
 
 Was c 
 clinia 
 ing r( 
 againj 
 those 
 JJourec 
 not; t 
 led wi< 
 in his 
 so tenc 
 and of 
 he hac 
 happy i 
 ho kne 
 he kne 
 could 
 TJie col 
 more, a 
 tlarknes 
 showed 
 stairs w 
 "Let 
 They ha 
 tlie wor] 
 
 tliO 
 
 Hone, 
 one. Pi 
 
 The 
 streets, d 
 
 state. ]y 
 ^ay on 
 
 gol 
 
 c 
 
 V 
 
THE LONG WHAIIF BOAT STEPS. M 
 
 She had been married that morning on the stisanier, 
 and buoyant with life, and hope, and gladness, slie 
 passed up those steps, followed by a train in which 
 could be seen all the i)C'auty and talent of the city. 
 But those heartless old stairs never looked a whit the 
 brighter for all the beauty and all the worth that 
 trod them. 
 
 "Again: the rain came down in torrents; the night 
 was of that pitchy darkness which is only known in 
 climates such as this. The wind in gusts came slash- 
 in«_j round the corners, drivini; the torrent like waves 
 against the houses, when a man came crawling down 
 those steps. He sat there for an hour. The rain 
 poured down on his uncovered head, but he heeded it 
 not; the wind tore open his ragged clothes, and wrest- 
 led with him, but he felt it not. With his face buried 
 in his hands-, he thought of the mother he had loved 
 so tenderly, and the sister whom he had cherished; 
 and of her, dearer far than either, to win whose hand 
 he had first ventured to these shores. Were they 
 happy ? Were they even alive ? He knew not, but 
 he knew that he wanted bread, and had it not ; and 
 lie knew that though those at home were poor, he 
 could not reach them to rescue or suffer with them. 
 The cold wind and the roaring rain beat on an hour 
 more, and his seat was vacant 1 He had rushed into 
 darkness, and the wave which closed over his head 
 showed him no more pity than did those heartless old 
 stairs which had witnessed the struggle of his soul! 
 
 " Let them go I Cover them up — pile on the sand ! 
 They have had too much to do with the misery of 
 the world to be worth saving. What good has all 
 the gold done which passed down them? Perhaps 
 none. How many has it made happy ? Perhaps not 
 one. Pile on the sandl" 
 
 The winter of 1849-50 was very rainy, and the 
 streets, devoid even of sidewalks, were in a horrible 
 state. Mud and filth from six inches to six feet deep 
 lay on all the principal thoroughfares, which one 
 
SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 might wado or swim according to depth and consist- 
 ence. But by the winter following some of the more 
 central streets wore planked, and remembering their 
 former abasement horses and drivers became frisky as 
 the animals' feet clattered upon the firm thoroughfare, 
 and there were loud complaints against street-racing. 
 Not only equestrians dashed their horses up and down 
 the o'owded streets at unlawful speed, but the buggieii, 
 carriages, and even carts drove ott* at furious rates. 
 It was a difficult country for either animals or men 
 to keep quiet in. 
 
 Very different was the aspect presented V)y Califor- 
 nia street in 1853 from that of 1873 after the banks, in- 
 surance buildings, and Merchant's Exchange had been 
 erected. At the former date the planked street was 
 perforated with holes of various sizes and doptlis, 
 some of dimensions sufficient to swallow a horse and 
 cart, others aspiring to nothing larger than a man's 
 leg. The occupants of the street, however, did not 
 seem to take the matter nmch to heart. Many 
 of the apertures were fenced in or covered and labelled. 
 Over one was drawn a large picture, a caricature of 
 the vicinity, representing the street with the surround- 
 ing buildings, and a horse and dray just disappearing 
 through one of the openings, while another quietly 
 stands by looking on. On the boards which ^ larded 
 the way were placards and divers inscriptions, such 
 as, "Head of navigation; no bottom." "Horse and 
 dray lost; look out for the soundings." "Storaoo 
 wanted; inquire below." "Squatters attention I 1)\- 
 ver's ranch." " Office to let in the basement; Wil- 
 liam Diver, agent." "Good fishing for teal," and 
 others of like import. 
 
 The winter of 1849 bore hard upon both merchants 
 and gold-diggers. The season was very wet; the 
 people were unfamiliar with the climate, and not well 
 provided with shelter or clothing. There was the 
 half-starved miner in his board house or cabin, the 
 merchant shivering in his tent. 
 
 loWoi 
 
 nienr, 
 
 •'arrjO( 
 large 
 of Lo 
 l»retex 
 to bet 
 the du 
 ]>resen 
 some 
 Women 
 withou 
 too pro 
 an act ( 
 strange] 
 ^vritten 
 l>rance. 
 Stran 
 l>lood an 
 gonerati( 
 l)ulJ-figh 
 graced tl 
 daughter 
 ("ros Wen 
 knights \ 
 'nounted 
 the most 
 wlien the 
 tu'ne, ass 
 most ao-iJe 
 thrust of 
 
 infuriated 
 oass of tl 
 
 adherents 
 there was ] 
 usually pro 
 the ancient 
 
BULL B'lOHT. 
 
 Inuring the winter of igrw o x, 
 l^-r portion of the vaJIey o7r„ w' "■ '""'^ ^^ ^''« 
 "'^''>,'tHl, wore driven into fl/ .V:''^'^o'''"a. then sub- 
 ^^•'•^'' destitute; olher" ha^ ' ''r"'', ^^»«* ^^ them 
 ;>^n.od gold-dust: men unao.n^ ^'"^i ^^^ ^^' J'an " 
 ^^^rge cities foil victhn« ""^f ustomed to the ways f 
 
 ;>^ Long Wharf^th/^it :: f^'^'^V^f^-nd s^rkj 
 pretext into a low don and f '"^^^?^^d under some 
 ;> bet on some surHl^.^ wi^ .r^'"^' ^ "^''"-d 
 tJ»e dust changing Lands V i'"" "'"^^ ^^^u^t of 
 presented in San iVancisco of T^ ^Pecta^-le was thJ 
 -";o women actuanrtarv'rl ^^7'^^^ '»^" «^'J 
 women tenderly reared hT l^-. ^^'^^^J m^H and 
 
 too nroud to If»f +i. • *^''rK, without frieiuJa. „« i 
 
 «t™,gen, as ^ell rSd, "*^ ""' *•>«" done K 
 
 written „f a surety i„ the r""^''^'^-"' ''"■"• ''"* 
 l.mnce. ^ '° »*« au^,. s book of ren.e.n- 
 
 .-negations after thd'dS , ""xhe t'"' ^'^'"^ "" 
 imll-fiijht was an iniDo-im, -Ine tune was wl,™ a 
 Kiaced the arena andTh^ spectacle; when ro '2. 
 
 "•?« were powerful a„d^et?J, '^"^"j"^; *''™ the 
 liiiights with all the m.!f J ' ^^^ P'<^«dwes, clad likp 
 'pnted on metttZr^2""' f ''''™''-/ and 
 t e most dashing hor^menT"'^, /'<"'*. were 
 .en the Ja«<i^/i^,;?^'J,^"te world could find; 
 tume, assisted by the 1.., ''^^* e'ese-fittin.r cos 
 ■"o^t agile of foolfi' btet t'n l^^T" *■"« •l'''^'<est a^d 
 thmst of his keen fwo^' f ,*''« """«'*'• with one 
 
 ™?f ef this pastime wlsTal i'^ ^''""."d. The car? 
 adherents aft^r the adZ,t'f1l,°'"lr''"y by its 
 
 «"«-entc.tom5Tr;Xpp7bte:s 
 
284 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 starvation and exhaustion, with tirped horns and ter- 
 rified expression, was goaded into the arena, while 
 brutal-looking tawdrily-attired horsemen on raw-boned 
 Rosinantes, attended by ragged banderillos and chulos 
 pricked courage with their steel weapons into the 
 poor beast — which had all the sympathy of every 
 human witness — and then clumsily butchered it. 
 
 Perambulating the streets of San Francisco on the 
 23d of May, 1850, was a tall, raw boned man, in blat k 
 skin and black clothes. His wooly head was sur- 
 mounted by a white beaver with a broad blue band, 
 and in his hand he carried a bell which served to fill 
 breathing spact s with its parenthetical ringings. His 
 demeanor was as grave as Mark Antony's when ho 
 mourned over Caesar's body; his voice was as ridi, 
 his gesticulation as efi'ective, though his harangue 
 was not untinctured with a vein of burlesque. A 
 dramatic black man, in black clothes, with a white 
 hat bi)und with blue, and carrying a boll; and these 
 were his words : — " Look a-here, white folks, T'se a- 
 gwine to gib you all fair notice dat de bull- fight what 
 is a-gwine to be dis arternoon, ain't a-gwine to be till 
 to-morrow at de same time, 'coz dev can't come it. 
 Ting-a-ling-a-ling. 'Coz dey ain't got de bull by de 
 horns. He ain't come to town yet, but is comin' fas' 
 ever dey can fetch him along. So de bull-fight is a- 
 gwine to come off to-morrow arternoon. Ting-a-ling- 
 a-ling. An' arter dat a chicken fight. It's truth I ni 
 a-tellin', gem'men. The bull what's agwhie to fight 's 
 one of de bulls what you read about. He's done been 
 and killed nine men already, but he says he can't kill 
 de tenf 'coz how he's too much for him. He's eiglit 
 feet, am dis bull, an' jus' about sixteen feet long ef lie 
 knows hisself. His horns am done been jus' about 
 six feet 'tween de tips, and de hair on his back am 
 been grown up to de sky, an' de crows hab done gone 
 an' made nests into it. An' I'm obliged "t/O tell you 
 dat de bull-fight is obliged to be postponded till to- 
 morrow arternoon, when you mus' all come an' see 
 
PROMENADE STREETS. 
 
 dig splendid bull, sartjn shore ; an' de chicken fight 
 what's a-gwine to take place arter de bull-fight which 
 am a-gwine to take place 'fore de chicken fight. Bof 
 of 'em togeder has been obliged to be postponded till 
 de next day, which am to-morrow artemoon in case 
 it should be a fair day an' not rain." 
 
 The plank road to the Mission was the boulevard 
 of 1852-3, the first established public drive and public 
 promenade in San Francisco. Winding among the 
 sand-hills from Mission or Howard streets, the road 
 tlien boasted its four-horse omnibus line and its two 
 toll gates. On every pleasant day, from morning till 
 iiivrht, it was thronjied with men of fashion and women 
 of pleasure, idlers, loafers, gamblers, babies with their 
 mannnas or nurses, making their several displays in 
 their vehicles of divers descriptions, each after the bent 
 of his own wise or foolish fancy. Along the road were 
 vegetable and flower gardens, and some little white 
 cottages were soon seen liere and there nestl in jj anions': 
 the sand-hills. Here San Francisco took the air; 
 her^ was the resort at that time of San Francisco s 
 best society. 
 
 Another great promenade of the city about this 
 time, or a little later, was Stockton street from Wash- 
 ington street to Washington square. It was then 
 hut partially graded and planked, but on it were tlu 
 handsome private residences and the principal churches. 
 West of this the streets were for the most part in a 
 state of nature, though many pretty cottages and 
 some fine larger houses dotted the hillside. Dupont 
 street, with its salt)ons and small shops, wasathronged 
 and busy place. At night the gambling shops and 
 stores were brilliantly lighted, and in the different sa- 
 loons were women in great variety, Spanish, English, 
 (Jerman, French, Kanaka, and Chinese. Durin*' the 
 tlay it was the chief thoroughfare between the busi- 
 ness portion of the town and the residences in the 
 direction of North Beach. The custom house, city 
 
SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 hall, post-office, the more gorgeous saloons, with cigar 
 shops, fancy stores, and livery stables, were on Kearny 
 street, the street of loafers, litigants, lawyers, officials, 
 politicians, the idle and the employed, and also the 
 street of fast riding, which in those days was more 
 common than now, Montgo'^^ery street from the be- 
 ginning was the Wall street of San Francisco, the 
 street of bankers, brokers, gold-dust buyers, jewellers, 
 book-stores, and newspaper offices, with a free sprink- 
 ling of restaurants and drinking saloons. Below Mont- 
 gomery street, on land reclaimed from the bay, were 
 the large warehouses, wholesale stores, and auction 
 houses. On Sansome street was the American thea- 
 tre and several hotels. On Battery and Front streets 
 were many brick buildings well stocked with goods. 
 Davis street, built wholly on piles and the last opened, 
 was the resort of seafaring men, and the shops mostly 
 contained ships' supplies. To these and the intersect- 
 ing streets from Jackson to California, with the ex- 
 ceptions of the Clark point and iron manufactories of 
 Happy valley, the business of San Francisco was 
 chiefly confined — a small area, truly, when we consider 
 the astonishing amount of traffic carried on withui 
 these limits. 
 
 Wo is me for I am in trouble 1 was the one \oncr 
 contiimous wail of San Francisco from birth till past 
 babyhood. Born of disorder, corruption rankled in its 
 blood. Colic and physic were its alternate comiwii- 
 ions during infancy, and ofthnes the remedy was ten- 
 fold worse than the disease. Wealth untold was its 
 heritage, but all of it was given, before she numbend 
 six 3'ears as a city, for an enorm<ius debt. This was lur 
 first trouble, vast property in her pueblo lands, and 
 ravenous wolves to lap it up. Water in front and 
 drifting sand-hills behhid, the equalizhig or gradinu' 
 of which was a trouble. Fires were a trouble, and 
 streets, and debt ; the hounds of '5 1 and the ballot-bt )X 
 stuflers of '56 were troubles. Yet withal the child 
 grew and waxed fat. 
 
HONEST HARRY MEIGGS. 
 
 287 
 
 Like a thunder-clap dropped on San Francisco the in- 
 telliijence that Henrv MeiofffS had absconded. Honest 
 Harry Meiggs 1 A defaulter, forger, swiiidlcr, impos- 
 sible 1 A week ago he was the most popular man in 
 California, his record was the cleanest, his reputation 
 tlie most spotless. On Friday his failure for the sum 
 of eight hundred thousand dollars was announced. 
 On the Tuesday previous he had bought the bark 
 American, furni.shed and provisioned her in princely 
 style, and the same night sailed with his family for 
 "ports in the Pacific." The journal of this, Sunday, 
 morning, October 8, 1854, leads off with a long list of 
 forged comptroller's warrants, together with others un- 
 told, aggregating half a million or a million of dollars. 
 
 John G. Meiggs, brother of honest Harry and 
 newly elected comptroller, also sailed on the American 
 for these veiled "ports in the Pacific." Why did he 
 go away being likewise a popular and capable man 
 and newly elected to office, unless it was that being 
 cognizant of his brother's crimes he preferred flight to 
 braving the disgrace ? Besides the spurious warrants, 
 merchants soon found their forced notes in circuL^.tion, 
 and these could easily be traced to their source. 
 Honest Harrv nmst be the rojrue 1 Then a thousand 
 Hngors pointed that way, bony, bloodless fingers, and 
 plump, fat fingers, digits horny with hard labor, bc- 
 lomjintj to washerwomen, and working; men, and the 
 diamond digits of merchants, bankers, and frail fair 
 Few escaped the fangs of Harr}', for he was 
 
 ones. 
 
 (lever, he was popular, and above all he was honest. 
 So tliey, his victims, loved to call him Honest Harry 
 ^NEeiirtifs. Now the connnunitv cursed him. Con- 
 gregating upon the street corners, men told their 
 losses and swore if they could catch hhn they would 
 liang liim Even now in the opinion of Sweeny and 
 Baugh the bark American is becalmed outside, only 
 twenty miles southwestward off the heads, and Cap- 
 tain Alden with the steamer Active, is going to sweep 
 the coast for sixty miles in both directions. Now 
 
SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 Harry, quickly and vehemently say your prayers so 
 that hell may hear, for if the north wind fails you, 
 you lose your head and the South American govern- 
 ments a great railway financier. Alas I the Active 
 breaks down and the swindler escapes. 
 
 A magnificent audacity characterized all the tran- 
 sactions of thic the prince of California swindlers, or 
 as his victims put it, he "played it in fine on 'em." 
 Thirty-three thousand dollars of Wm Neeley Thompson 
 and Go's forged notes were endorsed by Henry Meiggs 
 two and a half months prior to his departure. Stock 
 of the California Lumber Company, of which he was 
 president, was forged to a large amount — some said 
 half a million. It was his custom invariably to give 
 his forged paper as collaterals to moneyed men who 
 would lock them up and make no attempt to realize 
 on them ; or he would deposit it in some bank, take a 
 certificate to that etfect, and obtain the money on the 
 certificate. In this way his guilt was kept secret u}) 
 to the last moment. 
 
 When the captain of the American was questioned 
 why he was fitting up his boat so sumptuously and 
 whither he was bound, h replied, that the vessel had 
 been purchased by two wealthy gamblers, who in- 
 tended a trip of pleasure and adventure on the Pa- 
 cific, first to Puget Sound and then to Australia. In 
 leaving the city with his family Meiggs took a car- 
 riage and said he was going to San Mateo; but stop- 
 ping at Mission Point on the bay, he embarked in a 
 small boat for his vessel, which was lying in tlie 
 stream. No sooner was he fairly on board than the 
 bark was towed out to sea, and hoisting all sail was 
 soon out of sight. Before leaving he wrote a letter 
 to Goddefroy, Sillem & Co., informing them of his 
 intended departure from the country never to return. 
 Owing them a large amount he left a confession of 
 judgment in their favor for two hundred thousand 
 dollars, under which they immediately attached a 
 large amount of property. This letter and confession 
 
YERBA BUENA CEMETERY. 
 
 were not delivered until the day after his departure, 
 and the attachment that followed was the first inti- 
 mation the public had of his failure. 
 
 That the arch criminal had confederates in the 
 board of aldermen, of which he was shortly before a 
 member, among the street contractors of whom he 
 was special patron, and among those who aided his 
 escape, there can be no doubt. That his scheme 
 should so successfully have prospered in the face of so 
 many chances against it, shows him to have been what 
 his previous career in California and his subsequent 
 manipulations of South American railway systems 
 amply prove him, a matchless financier and manager. 
 It was one of the most gigantic swindles successfully 
 perpetrated tlie world has ever seen. What is 
 stranger still the money which he carried away, 
 united with his consummate skill, yielded him an im- 
 mense fortune, and to this day he has never been 
 brought to judgment. Having served an apprentice- 
 ship in the politics of San Francisco, he felt qualified 
 to manipulate governments on a grander scale ; and 
 notwithstanding the blasted rejmtation which folK)wed 
 ]iim, he acquired such an ascendency over the leading 
 minds of Chile and Peru as to blind them to his fiiults, 
 and build for himself a gigantic fortune and a workl- 
 wide fame. 
 
 As in all scoundrelism there was the utmost heart- 
 lessness displayed in his frauds. Rich and poor alike 
 lie plundered, and scrupled at nothing which should 
 add to his ill-gotten gains. The exact amount car- 
 ried away by him was never known — probably about 
 six hundred thousand dollar ' Many victimized never 
 mentioned it. His failure and forgeries left him de- 
 linquent over two millions. The American was pro- 
 visioned for a two years voyage, the bills for wine and 
 tine stores amounting to over two thousand dollars. 
 She was well armed, having on board four guns, two 
 of them brass pieces, and was manned by a crew 
 ready to do their master's bidding, so that if over- 
 
 I. 
 
 (AL. Int. I'oc. 19 
 
290 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 taken tlie fugitives undoubtedly would have made a 
 desperate resistance. 
 
 Yerba Butna cemetery could tell some strange tales 
 if its dead could speak. Little dreamed the grave- 
 diggers of those days that these dreary acres dotted 
 with chaparral and sage-brush beneatli, with here 
 and there diminutive oaks and stunted laurel whicli 
 hid the timid hare, while the howling coyote prowled 
 not far ofi*; that this uninviting wilderness should so 
 soon be laid out in broad streets whose sides should 
 be lined with beautiful residences, and that from tlu; 
 very spot where were then deposited the tired bones 
 of the argonauts should so soon arise the magnificent 
 city hall of this young, giant metropolis. 
 
 There was one solitary manzanita with blood-red 
 stalk and ever-green leaves which looked as if it hatl 
 strayed from some happy valley of the Coast Range, 
 hidden from the rude blasts of ocean. It seemed out 
 of place here, this bloody red and green shrub, midst 
 the ghastly white of dead humanity. It was a sor- 
 rowful looking place, harboring the remains of sor- 
 rowful men. 
 
 It was in February 1850 that the ayuntamienlo 
 set aside there shifting sands for burial purposes. In 
 1857 an old fence enclosed the sacred ground, entrance 
 to which was made through a dilapidated gate. The 
 place was sadly neglected, the paths in places entirely 
 obliterated, and the grove approached only by wad- 
 ing ankle deep in sand. There in a dismal pit, 
 twenty -five by eighty feet, lay the bones of 800 i)i()- 
 neers, piled side by side, and one above another, .i 
 strange medley, and whoso flitting ghosts could each 
 tell its own strange story. 
 
 Beside this mammoth sepulchre was the bone- 
 bleaching ground of the Celestials, where the disin- 
 terred bodies of dead Chinamen were whitened and 
 dried by the bonfire made of theirown redwood coffins. 
 When properly cured, these precious relics were car< - 
 fully packed in strong boxes, and shipped to the angoi- 
 
 vis 
 
 he 
 
 der 
 
 bofi 
 
 row 
 
 ing- 
 
 witJ 
 
 grea 
 
 \^ 
 
 feet, 
 
 bf»xe 
 
 prevj 
 
 town 
 
 hft s 
 
 other! 
 ^vith 1 
 storiej 
 tlie dc 
 water 
 visitor 
 punts 
 It 
 sernbia 
 JioineJe 
 lionie 
 f<eal of 
 l^^ien W(| 
 "1 our 
 '>ad inf 
 'iioes, t 
 Ix'arts, 
 
 l^fonu 
 I'l'ivate, 
 '"■ woine 
 ['}' strai 
 Jnto i-ac} 
 j"g the I 
 "ut prom 
 
 w 
 
HOME-BUILDINO. 
 
 291 
 
 visiting land of FohL Poor, indeed, and most unhappy , 
 lie who hitherward from the Flowery Kingdom wan- 
 dered, never to return. Unlucky shades of homeless 
 bones ! And yet there are such lying here. Long 
 rows of significantly shaped sand heaps mark the rest- 
 ing-place of moneyless bones. Some have a board 
 with characters scrawled on it for a tombstone, but the 
 greater part of these graven are nameless. 
 
 With lumber at eight hundred dollars a thousand 
 foet, buildings and bunks were made of dry -goods 
 boxes, or cloth, though finally boards and shingles 
 prevailed. By and by they undertook to grade the 
 town, infelicitous to all but street contractors, for this 
 left some houses all cellar ; others were perched upon 
 foggy cliff, inaccc^ssible except by scaling ladders; 
 others looked as if their construction had been begun 
 with the roof, and built from the top downward, lower 
 stories being added as the dirt was taken away. At 
 the door might sometimes be seen stationed a tub of 
 water and a broom, with which before entering the 
 visitor might wash off his big boots, into which his 
 jiants were tucked. 
 
 It was all for home — anything for a home. The 
 semblance even was heaven after so long and barren 
 liomelessness. It is hard to overrate the influence of 
 home. If we made it, it is part of ourselves, with the 
 seal of ourselves «et upon it. If we grew up in it, 
 then we are part of it, and carry with us through life 
 ill our reflections, carnage, and conduct its good or 
 had influences. Tlie landscape gives exj)ression to our 
 faces, the nmsic of the streams attunes t)ur cliildish 
 hearts, our native air inspires our thoughts. 
 
 Homes are more o])en than in other countries, less 
 l»iivatc, but none the less sacred. There are few men 
 or women so exclusive as not to be easily aj)proached 
 l»\ strangers with any sort of credentials. Prying 
 into each other's affairs, meddling, gossiping, discuss- 
 ing the private relations t)f neighbors and friends, are 
 nut prominent vices. Scandal served up with appe- 
 
 ■' ! ; !i,3 
 
SM SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 tizing minuteness in the morning paper does not mak 
 breakfast the lesa palatable, and the exposure of pri- 
 vate life in the public prints does not lessen the circu- 
 lation of a journal. 
 
 How many in all this bustling city could pray the 
 prayer of Socrates, but would not rather write him 
 down a ragged, bare-footed, old heathen, and an ass ? 
 "O, beloved Pan, and all ye gods whose dwelling is 
 in this place, grant me to be beautiful in soul, and all 
 that I possess of outward things to be at peace witli 
 them within. Teach me to think wisdom the only 
 riches. And give me so much wealtii, and so much 
 only, as a good and holy man could manage or enjoy," 
 
 San Francisco climate, like the people, is exceed- 
 ingly mixed, very good and ver^"^ bad ; treacherous, 
 contradictory, and yet most reliable ; hot and cold, 
 and yet neither hot nor cold; dry, yet always damp, 
 raining, but not wet — clothing at one time on tlie 
 street, lace shawl and furs, overcoat and duster, and 
 one as appropriate as another. " Four seasons in one 
 day; blarst such a c(»untryl" exclaimed a tragic 
 Faust as he threw up his engagement and hurried out 
 of town. 
 
 Often in the kitchen there wore storms; as wlieu 
 Alice, who was a good cook, and had a bit of temper 
 withal, had her wages gradually reduced from $250 
 to $100 a month, flew into a rage, and marched lior- 
 self off, saying she would not live in such a place. 
 
 How different from all this is the picture of to-day ! 
 Gradually from Yerba Buena cove the city of our 
 father Saint Francis has spread out, first nortliwanl 
 over the hills and into the valleys beyond, far away 
 to the Golden Gate, then southward for miles, en- 
 compassing the old Mission Dolores and far boyonrl, 
 while westward and on the hill tops broad avciuus 
 lined witli palaces and gardens invite the weary mom\ - 
 makers to repose. Grand hotels, and mercantile aiul 
 manufacturing establishments, stand along the busy 
 
THE CITY OP TODAY. 
 
 293 
 
 thoroughfares, while churches, cathedrals, and public 
 buildings rise from the dense mass of lesser structures. 
 Elegant equipages with their fair freight roll over the 
 paved streets, and out through the park to the ocean 
 beach ; while street rail-cars, with scores of miles of 
 iron track reaching far out into every suburb, carry 
 the less pretentious population to and from their 
 homes. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 mens muUtiono recreabitur: slcut in cibis, quorum divenitate reficitur 
 ■toinachuB, et pluribus minoro faatidio alitur. 
 
 — Qumtilian. 
 
 The California year of 1849; what was it? An 
 exclamation point in the history of civilization ; a dasii 
 In the annals of time. This twelve-month was not Si> 
 much a year as an age, not so nmch an episode as an 
 era. Heart throbs, they say, rather than time tell the 
 age of man ; here then was a century of heart throhs; 
 we could as well drop out of history a hundred of 
 other years, as this one most notable year. Otlier 
 years have been repeated, and will be many times; 
 this one, never. Throughout the records of the race, 
 from first to last, there will never be reproduced on 
 this planet the California flush-times drama. It 
 stands out hi the experiences of men unique and indi- 
 vidual, each swift day of it equal to many another 
 year. 
 
 How vain, then, the attempt to portray this fleet- 
 ing hour! Dreaming will not achieve it, nor romanc- 
 ing; it is neither caricature,, nor burlesque, noi' 
 extra vaijanza. These lead the mind further from th«^ 
 truth. Neither will the bald facts, though plainly 
 and fairly stated, give a perfect idea of the time ; there 
 was present much besides plain facts; there were facts 
 running riot, and the wildest fancy turned into facts — 
 a pandemonium of romance and reality. There were 
 here fifty thousand active and intelligent young work- 
 ers, whose experiences fully written for that year 
 
 (294) 
 
THK YKAR OF 1849. 
 
 2BS 
 
 would fill fifty thousand volumes, each as large as 
 tliis. And then the subject would not be fully pre- 
 s(!nted, unions into each of these fifty thoustind vol- 
 umes the breath of in8i)iration mij:fht place true and 
 living soul ; for the winds of California worci redolent 
 of soul, and every morning's sun kindled now fires of 
 (•ner»ry that wont not out at night. The 1841) of 
 California, of America, of the world I It was the 
 pivot <m which the frame-work of human progress 
 turned a fnish side to the sun, a side brooding mag- 
 gots hitherto, but now a new and nobler race of mon. 
 
 Since the days of Adam, wliose eyes were opened 
 to behold himself by his maker, there noviT has been 
 u mirror held up before man which so roHer'tod him 
 in his true light, stripped of all the shams and vou- 
 vcntionalities of staid societies. Leaving in thoir old 
 homes evt^ry restraint, every influence that bound 
 them to ancient forms and traditions, the latter-day 
 argonauts entered the mines with name and identity 
 sunk. They wore no longer their former solves; they 
 wore born and baptized anew. IL'nco aroso a social 
 organism at once complex and po(;uliar, wlu>se growth 
 is at every turn a new development. 
 
 In dross the people of California were as inde- 
 ])('U(lent and original as in everything else. Free 
 tiiought and free habits pervaded the wliole donuiin 
 of society. Even those who dressed genteelly de- 
 clined slavery to fashion. They claimed the privil(>ge 
 of exercising taste in preference to bowing boforo 
 French law. Ht;nce it was that the streets of San 
 i^Vancisco presented every variety of style in tht^ss the 
 world had seen for the last quarter t)f a century. 
 
 An English writer speaks of "some forlorn indi- 
 vidual exhibitiniir himself in a black coat and a stove- 
 j>ipe hat, looking like a bird of evil omen among a 
 flock of such gay plumage." But the ancient minor 
 of early days prided liimsolf to the last in his rags and 
 patches, in his torn hat and boots awry, and open- 
 breasted woollen shirt with up-rolled sleeves, display- 
 
 1^ 
 
SOCIETY. 
 
 ing the tawny hairy skin and swollen muscies — which 
 was, indeed, but another species of foppery. This 
 rejoicing in their rags was like Antisthenes, through 
 the holes of whose clothes Socrates saw rank prido 
 peering. In the cities, the several nationalities re- 
 tained their peculiar style of dress, so that on the 
 streets of San Francisco were to be seen the silver- 
 buttoned trousers, leather leggings, and bright-colored 
 serape of the Mexican, the shooting-coat dress of the 
 Englishman, the corduroys of tlie Irishman, the black 
 of the New Englander, and the Paris fashions of 
 Frenchmen, New Yorkers, and southerners. Every 
 one could wear what he pleased, and no costume, how- 
 ever bizarre, appeared to attract nmch attention. 
 
 Indeed, while there is so mucli in dress which speaks 
 the character of the wearer, during this most hnport- 
 ant and solemn struggle there were other things to 
 absorb the mind. For here for a time the battle of 
 good and evil rages fiercely, and before it is fairly 
 over, as, indeed, it never is, many will find themselves 
 weather-bound, destined never to gather the fruits of 
 their toil, destined never to leave these accursed 
 shores, but forced by fate to toil on to the end, till 
 death relieves them. Like the dart of Abaris, their 
 new vocation renders their past invisible, wliile their 
 future henccfortli is destined to be filled with tliose 
 accidental colors which depend on tlie state of the eye 
 rather than on the hue of the object. It will be a 
 paradise or a penitentiary^ as success or failure is en- 
 countered. Giving thus all for gold, they are like 
 zealous missionaries giving all for Christ, many of 
 them dropping or losing their names, so that their 
 most intimate companions shall ot know them. 
 
 The Connecticut Sunday h. forbade travel and 
 work except in cases of necesi y or mercy, and in 
 early times there were few such ct 9s. Massachusetts 
 laid a penalty of ten dollars on eve ' one who travelled 
 on Sunday, except from necessit or charity. The 
 laws of Vermont permitted the aaple sugar makers 
 
THE CAUFOKNIA SUNDAY. HT 
 
 to set tubs anew on Sunday in case of an extraordinary 
 run of sap. In California there was much necessity, 
 much mercy, and sap was always running. 
 
 Sunday, if possible, was chosen for public affairs, 
 for arrests, trials, and executions, as there would be 
 deuionstratcd greater public interest on that day. 
 The maxim. Dies Dominicus non juridicus, had little 
 weight with them. So far as mining-town morality 
 was concerned, Sunday was a day for anything but 
 work. Recreations of any kind were admissible, and 
 shirt- washing, broad-making, gambling, drinking, 
 horse-racing, fighting, and hanging, all came under 
 this category. 
 
 There was here a complete return to primitive ideas 
 regarding Sunday. Like Christmas, the ounday of 
 the pioneer Christians was a day of rejoicing. In 
 Ttrtullian's time, the word Sabbatum marked the 
 seventh, not the first, day of the week, and to fast on 
 that day was deemed sinful. Indeed, if we may be- 
 lieve Justin Martyr, there were Christians who, like 
 our miners, considered it criminal to keep the sabbath. 
 
 During this epoch of abnormities, when a chaos of 
 heterogeneous elements was under fermentation which 
 brought to the surface the best and the basest quall- 
 ti(^s of human nature, maiiy untried experiments 
 must be wrought, many problems solved which never 
 before had come within the range of social ethics. 
 Tliere nmst be a re-adaptation of individuals and com- 
 nmnities to new environments. Strange remedies 
 nmst be applied for strange evils ; new resources must 
 l»e developed, new benefits seized and utilized. The 
 epoch stands out on the canvas of history in ever 
 deepening colors; and only in ages to come, when 
 tlie knowledge of human actions and divine laws sliall 
 be brought into nearer relationship, si. all its true im- 
 port be understood. It was an original melodrama, 
 liorn of the time; but under Thalia s laughing mask 
 were hidden the club and steel of tragedy. The world 
 liad had its romance of religion, of chivalry, of the 
 
 I 
 
 1 § 
 
«;• 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 ideal ; but here was its first great romance of utilitar- 
 ianism. This was no island of ^gina to be peopled 
 by transforming ants into men ; but here men were to 
 be made monarchs ; mind was to be emancipated, and 
 thought left to its unfoldings, such as never had yet 
 been done under the sun. Here, martyrs and heroes, 
 unsainted and unsung, amidst strugglings and suffer- 
 ings, were to achieve glorious things for the race. 
 
 Digging in the dirt, selling rum, tobacco, flour, and 
 bacon, hammering out mining machinery, assaying 
 gold and the like, seem dull and prosaic occupations 
 enough when compared with the tilts and tournaments 
 of knight-orrantry, the pious entliusiasm of crusaders, 
 and the thrilling deeds on the battle-fields ; neverthe- 
 less the poetry and romance are here for all who pre- 
 fer reality to fantasy. Here, weather-beaten and 
 bearded diggers are uneart ]ig primeval treasures 
 which shall revolutionize commerce and society ; they 
 are bringing to light brilliant gold wherewith to buy 
 liappiness ; and these mitiisteriug towns and cities 
 which spring up on every side as if by magic, an; tlu; 
 marts of theh* servitors who feed and clothe their 
 occupants. Golil-getting, however, is not an end but 
 a means; it is only an incentive or impulse in tli(! 
 great plan of))rogress. The romance of it is found in the 
 strange developments, the wonderful events, the grand 
 display of that force which brings order out of chaos, 
 and places under subjection to the whole, tempers op- 
 pugnant and ajiparently ungovernable, with the least 
 personal restraint possible. 
 
 By the prudish and pharisai^al this anomalous lif(i 
 and society may be regarded with abhorrence ; bythi; 
 social philosopher and lover of the race, it will bo 
 studied as one of the most interesting and instructive; 
 pages of history. In older societies impurities sink to 
 the bottom or gather in slimy corners; but when tl!<; 
 stream of progress, in an ungovernable torrent, forced 
 a new channel westward, filth and purity were stirnn! 
 up together, and its waters became thick with passion 
 
HOPE AND DESPAIR. 
 
 299 
 
 and prejudice ; hence never before have we had such an 
 opportunity of watching the phenomena of separation 
 and purification as here presents itself Neither Brit- 
 ish Columbia nor Australia at all compare with Cali- 
 fornia in this respect, for here, from the beginning, 
 there was always the wildest latitude allowed to hu- 
 man action, consistent with self-preservation, while in 
 the British colonies gold-seekers, from the first, were 
 under an established rule. 
 
 In California, the only government and the only 
 recognition of crime was such as grew out of necessity. 
 There was never any parental restraint or guidance, 
 there was no period of formation or childhood ; from 
 a scattered assemblage of diversified tongues and 
 (!olors* the population at once assumed state preroga- 
 tives; and being ill-understood by any not on the 
 spot, and far removed from eastern influence, the peo- 
 })le were left to do very much as they pleased. 
 
 On arriving in California, the new-comer soon found 
 liimself enlisted in the ranks of one of two classes, the 
 liopeful or the despondent. If of the former, he was 
 soon seized with the intoxication of his new surround- 
 ings, and joined the business orgie. Confident and 
 daring, he at once went to work at something, — any- 
 thing, whatever first oftered itself, and continued in 
 (incrgctic industry until success in a greater or less 
 degree was achieved. Often he would fall, and as 
 often rise again. There was no such tiling as "«>n'ain- 
 in<jj down, no thougfht of vicldino-. His ojrasp on for- 
 tunc was firm and constant, and although the slippery 
 jado might sometimes twist herself almost from his 
 grasp, he never would entircdy lose his hold, for this 
 oiico lost, all v/as lost. This doo'H'od determination, 
 liopu in the future, belief in the times, and confidetice 
 in himself were a fortune. Should he join the ranks 
 of the latter class, he was forced to abandon all his 
 bright hopes, and turn himself over to despair. Every 
 thing he saw was dark and gloomy. A man of con- 
 science in society and business, the glorious drunken- 
 
300 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 ness of the times was denied him. The rains of winter 
 dampened his anticipations and drowned his energies; 
 the cold, coast winds cut into his vitals, and the hot, 
 summer sun of the valleys withered his hopes, and left 
 him despondent and nerveless. With heart sunk 
 within him, every blow he struck was echoed by his 
 rattling bones Disgusted with himself and all the 
 world, and heaping curses on the country, he returned 
 home, if he could get there, covered with shame, or 
 eked out a broken-hearted existence in the land he so 
 heartily hated. 
 
 The very qualities most conducive to prosperity in 
 older communities were to some extent out of place 
 here; men thrived on what elsewhere would prove 
 their destruction. Old maxims were as useless as 
 broken crockery. True, among the shrewder spirits 
 there was a method in their madness, and sometimes 
 seemingly rash and headlong speculation was the re- 
 sult of well-laid schemes. There were times when a 
 general advance in prices rose into a mania, and then 
 whatever a man bought, real estate or merchandise, 
 was sure to yield him a profit a week, or a day, or an 
 liour afterward. All this seemed to one newly arrived 
 a bedlam of insane speculation, and speedy convulsion 
 was predicted. 
 
 At first there were no fixed customs in the country 
 to which every comer must in a gieater or less degree 
 adapt himself Every man's conduct was regulated 
 b}'^ his own tastes rather than bv preiistablished rules 
 of society. Fashion never found more indifferent vo- 
 taries. But the romance and irksomeness of this kind 
 of life gradually wore away; woman came to the res- 
 cue, and the proprieties, suavity of manners, and staid 
 customs of older societies came into general observ- 
 ance. Society separated into strata; something like 
 caste appeared, and the components of the community 
 became more and more individualized. 
 
 Most of those who came hither were in the matur- 
 ity of manhood, with more or less skill and experience 
 
EFFECT OP ENVIRONMENT. 
 
 801 
 
 in their several vocations. This skill and experience, 
 by means of which society is influenced, were acquin.'d 
 under different systems of education and discipline ; 
 and in the adaptation of these experiences, one to an- 
 other, and all to a general whole, theory and specula- 
 tion were in a measure thrown aside, and men became 
 eminently practical. All must discard somethinjj;- 
 of that just pride for the ancient and local customs of 
 their fathers under which their progress had been at- 
 tained thus far. This it was difficult at once to 
 do. The way in which we are accustomed tt> do a 
 thing we cannot but feel to be the best way, and we 
 see no reason why we should throw it aside for an- 
 other which will bring about results less easily. Nor 
 need we, except in some instaices, when we nmst per- 
 force adapt ourselves to general customs. And by 
 this discarding of habits formed on a framework of 
 technical philosophy alone, and seizing upon actuali- 
 ties as they exist, i. respective of their origin, the 
 ijrrandest results are attained. 
 
 Until a late day we lacked home and the home feel- 
 ing in California, We began by staying here a little 
 while, and we have remained longer than we intended. 
 We lack the associations running back for generations, 
 the old homestead, the grandfather, and grandmother-, 
 juid uncles, and aunts, and cousins. There is nothing 
 around us hallowed by an indistinct past. There is 
 nothing older than ourselves ; all that we see has 
 grown up under our eyes, and for these creatures of 
 our own creation we have no reverence. We are not 
 }'ct settled, we are constantly moving to and fro like 
 restless spirits, living in hotels and boarding houses ; 
 or if we have a home we want to s(?ll it and go into 
 (he country, or to Europe. It is so n)uch troulik; 
 keeping house, with these Chinamen for chamher- 
 niaids I 
 
 The average intelligence of any nation in Christen- 
 dom, not even excepting the great American peophs 
 is greatly overrated ; particularly when it comes to 
 
 
 m 
 
808 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 mankind acting in the mass, cooperatively, as a sect, 
 order, or legislative body. The noise and bustle of 
 some excite others; as an old broken down cart- 
 horse, driven into a band of wild, frolicsome horses, 
 becomes fractious and unmanageable. Business 
 breeds business, and caution engenders caution. He 
 who croaks and hoards, lying in wait for opportunities 
 to get sonietliing for nothing, incites others to croak 
 and hoard and lie in wait; and so stagnation follows. 
 A man who cheerfully, and with hope in his heart, 
 goes to work, develops the resources of his country, 
 buys and sells and builds, will incite like activity in 
 others, and development and property must follow. 
 Deliberation and caution are well enough in their 
 place, and not to be overlooked at any time, but a 
 good driver does not put on the brakes going up hill. 
 It is true that the people of California are very 
 greatly absorbed in making money. And tliis is as it 
 should be, for what is money-making but develop- 
 ment and jirogress ? Culture and refinement always 
 follow material prosperity, they never precede it. 
 We have here lands to be put under contribution, 
 mines to be opened, railroads and cities to be built; 
 would it be accounted to us as wise to sit down to 
 [)lay when we have made no provision for our dinner? 
 First provide for the material man, else the mental 
 will fare poorly enough. But, say our friends at the 
 east, " You have made money enough ; it is time you 
 should turn your attention to somethint; better than 
 money, if ever you intend doing so." Very true, but 
 railway trahis are not stopped at full speed ; cart 
 horses do not usually make the best racers, and ships 
 built for the water do not sail well in the air. 
 Money-makers are simply macliines, as are philoso- 
 phors and scholars ; take one to pierces and remodel 
 it, and the working of it afterward is very doubtful. 
 I see no other way but to give the country time. 
 The nc^xt generation will beget new inventions, ex- 
 periences thus brought together propagate. Henco 
 
MATERIAL FOR PROGRESS. 
 
 303 
 
 it is that we are more fully up to the times in every- 
 thing, much more, all things put together, than al- 
 most any other community. 
 
 It is easy to undorstand how men and women thus 
 thrown together, strangers to each other, strangers 
 in ideas, speed i, and traditions, without the substra- 
 tum, as a social foundation, which only can coalesce; 
 as society slowly develops, fail to have that interest 
 in each other and that intense loyalty which charac- 
 terizes older and more settled comnmnities. Society 
 ]i(!re is a malformation, or rather it is yet not society, 
 but only materials for society; yet nowhere will th(! 
 people quicker or more heartily unite for the public; 
 good; nowhere are they more free and social than 
 here; nowhere is there less clap-trap and ridiculous 
 apings of things traditional than here. 
 
 Strangers coming together cannot immediately em- 
 brace and become brothers. They have too little in 
 common, see too many faults in each other; will not 
 mellow on the instant asperities of character. The seeds 
 of lasting friendship are usually planted in early life, 
 and matured in a soil of warm and tender sympathy, in 
 order to produce a plant which will endure the storms 
 of selfishness that beat upon it in after life. Once 
 the social heart of California lay so imbedded in gold 
 that it could not throb. The passions were let loose, 
 and a moral leprosy infected the i)eople like an epi- 
 demic. But all this passed away, as every epidemic 
 passes, afttu- having weeded society of some of its 
 weaknesses, and left it in fair condition for pcrniam nt 
 growth. 
 
 To the great majority of the pioneers the Sierrn. 
 ■was a sphinx propounduig a riddlo, which they must, 
 answer. Thousands laid down tlioir lives in the at- 
 tempt, for there were the lion's claws to tear the un- 
 successful venturer in pieces. Of rare celestial beauty 
 was the face and bosom of the goddess as she lured 
 men to their destruction ; of dark ferocity was she as 
 she lapped them to their final doom. 
 
 Sri 
 
 mm 
 
 
304 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 Very hard were the times in the mountains now 
 and then ; times when no one could pay his butcher 
 bill, when the miner had not money enough to roll 
 tenpins; yet, there was little complaining. The 
 merchant considered it useless to sue for his account, 
 for even if he could collect it, he knew he would incur 
 enough of unpopularity to make the loss many times 
 greater, and perhaps get a sound thrashing some night 
 when the boys were deep in their cups and with plenty 
 of money. Society at this time was far too unselfish 
 for its own good, or for the good of the world. 
 
 An aristocracy, in tlie common acceptation of the 
 term, never has found place in Califiirnia. Vain and 
 silly women have attempted cliques, have drawn round 
 themselves lines of exclusiveness, and essayed tlio 
 leadership of fashion; but all such efforts have had 
 little mterest to any except the aspirants themselves, 
 usually involving them in contempt and ridicule. 
 Likewise there have not been wanting those, w1k», 
 jealous of the pretensions of the ambitious in tliin 
 direction, have by their envious scoffings betrayed 
 a desire for the position which they pretended to 
 despise. With no provincial court, with the officers 
 of government not the most admirable characters 
 in the community, with no fixed military or naval 
 system, with agents of the general government too 
 poorly paid to make much display, with but a 
 small literary class, with the entire community in- 
 tent chiefly on money-getting, and holding in con- 
 tempt all forms save the forms of debit and credit, 
 there was here not the first element on whicli 
 to base an arist<icracy, either of iii^ney or niirul. 
 Wealth was worshipped, and success, and that keen 
 ness of intellect which could acquire wealth ; but the 
 [)ossessor was as frequently despised, and his quondam 
 washer- woman wife snubbed by her less pretentious 
 Ri>^ters. Early society here was an aggregation of 
 s; . angers in which lucky strokes of fortune dazzled 
 
INFLUENCE OF WOMAN. 
 
 305 
 
 t.) 
 
 >rs 
 
 ;crs 
 
 ,val 
 
 tt ><> 
 
 a 
 
 in- 
 
 on- 
 
 lUl. 
 tlu' 
 
 the eyes of competitors, and unostentatious merit 
 passed unnoticed ; great men, if success can be called 
 greatness, were too near their beginning to hispire 
 that respect necessary to the formation of an aris- 
 tocracy in social circles. There were here no old 
 families whose merit, wealth, or respectability had 
 long held their neighbors in esteem, though there 
 were the beginnings of many such. 
 
 Woman played her part in early California, annals, 
 her influence being abnormal as much by reason of its 
 absence as its presence. For the absence of women 
 liad a strange effect upon the men, although they 
 themselves were scarcely aware of it. Religion they 
 could do well enough without, while dwelling for a 
 time in this wilderness, but that their life should be 
 limited to a community of men was indeed a new ex- 
 perience. It was like a void in nature, something 
 dropped out of their existence. 
 
 After all, which condition was the harder: hcr's 
 whose smile dissembled the sinking heart on parthig ; 
 her's whose brave words belied the glistening, tear tliat 
 hung trembling on the droopmg eyelid ; hers whost; 
 lot it was, all through the cold winter with him away, 
 to fight the hunger- wolf that prowled about the door, 
 and keep her little ones from freezing, or his who 
 abandons all for the hope of getting gold? 
 
 Tliere is but one thing this side of heaven lovelier 
 tlian the form and face of woman, and that is her 
 heart-bloom. Fed by the veiled virtues, the poetic 
 courtesies, the delicate influences and affections, witli 
 all the tender sacrifices locked within, it fills the at- 
 mosphere with its fragrance, redeems man from him- 
 self, and makes a paradise of what were otherwise a 
 l)arren waste. A thing in some form desired by all 
 inoii, she whose heart beats true to the coming and 
 ^t;oiTig of her friends; she whose brain was all ablaze 
 with ten thousand tender fantasies ; she through whose 
 eyes one sees her heaven-lit soul ; she whose deft 
 
 Cal. Ixt. Foe. 20 
 
 w 1 
 
 m 
 
 [:■■-! 
 
 i 
 V 
 
 
306 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 fingers are as dancing points of thought ; she whose feet 
 upon the sward are lighter than the soft south wind ; 
 she whose voice is angels' music singing whence she 
 came ; she whose charms are crowned by goodness 
 and sweet, gentle sympathy; such is gentle, virtuous 
 woman. 
 
 Spaniards who had wives in Spain were forbidden 
 by King Ferdinand to reside in any of the colonics; 
 they nmst go after them. There were no Kino- 
 Ferdinands to make the men of California bring out 
 their wives. At first wives were few, but houris in 
 abundance came from the uttermost parts of the earth, 
 whose beauty and virginity, like the black-eyed dam- 
 sels of paradise, were, in the eyes of the soiled and 
 solitary Californians, renewable at pleasure. Of these, 
 as the Koran tells of the houris in paradise, each wo- 
 man-worshipper, if he possessed sufficient gold-dust, 
 might have seventy -two. So that for women, the 
 mines became like Torquemada's fabulous Lizard is- 
 lands, a retreat for outcast damsels of every species. 
 
 In the cities, particularly, and sometimes in tlu' 
 mines, there were not lacking Aspasias of the superior 
 type, refined and cultivated women whom shmous cii - 
 cumstances had driven from the ijarden of chastitv, 
 and whose intellectual attractions were surpassed only 
 by their j)ersonal charms. When, however, the younjj; 
 men bey;an to think of makinij this countrv their 
 home, the^y longed for home comforts and happiness, 
 chief among which was a wife. Whereupon they, 
 some of them, marry and are soon led to thank God 
 for the blessing of no children. 
 
 How often when death's tidinijs came of a loved 
 one gone, father, mother, wife, or child, has the soli- 
 tary mourner withdrawn from his boisterous compan- 
 ions, retired to the woods or to the hill-side, and there 
 held his lonely funeral. The hope of his life, perhaps, 
 his morning and evening star, that for which he bad 
 come hither, the main-spring and motive of all liis 
 toil, suddenly destroyed. Oh 1 God, is it necessary 
 
WIVE.S AND OTHER WOMEN. 
 
 307 
 
 bvcd 
 Isoli- 
 Ipan- 
 Kwiv 
 
 luvl 
 his 
 ksary 
 
 thus to torment ? Might not omnipotence have devised 
 some scheme less cruel than that which nmst needs 
 send up one universal wail from the beginning to the 
 end of time, wailing births followed by wailing deaths, 
 as though spirit and flesh had been united only to be 
 torn asunder, as though sentient behigs had been 
 created only for the anmsenient of fate i What is this 
 ( »ne lesson nature teaches us ? Short, swift, and damna- 
 l)le. Throughout the ages the stron*; shall eat up 
 the ^veak, and death shall swallow ail. Foolish are 
 we, to propagate our kind that they may be made 
 the sport of the present, with the certainty of a final 
 uhastly issue. 
 
 Now the heathen for their gods do not have that 
 love and respect. Love, or what was called love in 
 Homeric heroes, in the minds of Augustan critics, and 
 ill mediajval religious devotees was but a weakness. 
 Among warriors, the tender sentiment implied cfRemi- 
 iiacy, and too often piety pleaded the will of heaven as 
 ;m excuse for treachery to woman. And what did 
 thi' gods themselves know about love? Their love 
 was all sensuality. Jupiter put Cupid in the stocks 
 I »i cause the mischievous imp would not make the 
 W(»inen love him for himself alone, but nmst first turn 
 him into bull, satyr, swan, or other form before his 
 |iitvsence should inspire the tender ])assion. They 
 would call it hate, not love, that prompted the idea of 
 itcinal l)urnin<»;. 
 
 Thine are in every city other fifty wives besides the 
 titty daughters of Danaus, king of Argos, who kill 
 thi'ir husbands, if not in a single night, then in a time 
 made yet more cruel by its prolonged length. 
 
 Intolerant of restraint as the wild votaries of Bel- 
 inda, or of Anubis, of Osiris, or of Cvbele, like the 
 Koiiians of Juvenal's day, one connnon <{uality of 
 reckless disregard of consequences pei^vaded the whim 
 of the hour. Amorous widow-hunters of the Colonel 
 Chartres or duke of Roussillon type, preeminent hi 
 their superfluity of naughtiness, met with fair success. 
 
 m 
 
308 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 11 
 
 H 
 
 •4 
 
 Dr Brewer in his Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, 
 says that frequently he who went to dig gold in Cali- 
 fornia, put to board in some neighbor's family his 
 wife and children, or, as it was sometimes termed, 
 turned them out to grass — hence grass-widow. This 
 definition is far-fetched. Originally the term signified 
 an unmarried mother; later, a wife separated from 
 her husband. 
 
 Just how far the absence of woman affected society 
 it is difficult to determine. With her men are fools ; 
 without her devils. Man may be made better or 
 worse by woman according to her quality. As a 
 modest maiden and a true and loving wife, slie is tiu; 
 &,irest handiwork of the creator; us a splenoti*- 
 moody demirep, she is the aptest instrument of t]i(! 
 devil. As Dante, probably with his own tcrniaij:;aMt 
 wife in view, groans "La fiera moglie piu ch'altro, mi 
 nuoce." With the purity of hor heart she may makr 
 all things pure; under the counterfeits of love slif 
 may seduce by her charms, and doom to death by li< r 
 affection. Within a limited sphere every woman lias 
 a Pandora's box which she may open if she chooses. 
 Physically weaker than man, morally woman is 
 greatly his superior. She is his superior as well in 
 the emotional part of her nature as in her finer seiisr 
 of duty ; she is more self-sacrificing, has greater sen- 
 sibility, is naturally more chaste, more tender, more 
 compassionate, more forgivr.ig; she excels in all pas- 
 sive virtues, but hi intellect, ethics, in courage, in tin' 
 activities of life she falls behind her ruder companion. 
 
 Women feel rather than think; they are governed 
 by impulse rather than by opinion. In an evenly bal- 
 anced community they are less tempted than men, and 
 therefore less given to criminality; but once faiily 
 embarked in excesses, and they outstrip the most 
 vicious men. Tlie partner of man in his low cstati' 
 as well as in his right living, woman cannot lift In i 
 self much above the moral atmosphere which 1 e 
 make-i for her. Hence it is that had it been possiljln 
 
 ii'^ 
 
WIVES AND OTHER WOMEN. 
 
 for women to have followed the gold-seekers of 1849, 
 und to have endured the hardships of the California 
 flush times, it is probable that as a whole, and to a 
 cortain extent, they would have fallen into excesses 
 tluiiisclvos, instead of withholdin*; their companions 
 oiitirely from them. The patience, modesty, and 
 gentleness of the better sort would have greatly as- 
 sisted the sobriety and magnanimity of the men, but 
 the frivolity and jealousy of the more graceless would 
 liave increased their intompcirance and brutality. 
 Mucli would have depended on the view taken o\' 
 the question by the women; had they been there, and 
 had they been as ready to sacrifice all for gold; had 
 they been as ambitious, as avaricious, and as untram- 
 cllcd by society as were the men; the intensity of 
 the oriiies would have been increased ten-fold. 
 Hai)ly she was never called to undergo tlie ordeal. 
 Het'oie her appearance on tlie scent; the ebullition had 
 iiiateiially subsided, and gold-diggers began to think 
 seriously of becoming setth'rs, and of making this 
 ( t»untry their home. Tlie first females to come — and 
 these were early enougli u[)on the ground — were the 
 vicious and uncliaste, wlio o])enetl and presided at 
 hrilliant saloons and houses of ill-fame, and sat by 
 the gambler and assisted him in raking in liis gains 
 and paying his losses. Flaunting in their gay attiie 
 they were civilly treated by the men, few of whom, 
 ( veil of the most respectable and sedate, disdained to 
 visit their houses. On the steamer.s coming out, the 
 flail, fair one was often shown all tlie delicate consid- 
 t rations due to the fine lady of innnaculate morals; 
 the officers of the ship were always at her command, 
 and if a favorite of the captain she was assigned a 
 seat at his table. On her arrival, nu'rchants and 
 Judges were among her associates. Tiiere was little 
 social caste or moral quality in those days. In the 
 ahsence of the true the imitation was made to answer. 
 And so men went wild over the shadow as they were 
 doing in other things; the folds of female drapery 
 
 m 
 
 11 
 
 m 
 
 31' 
 
810 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 were worshipped, whether they held a woman or a 
 skeleton. Later, families were brought out, virtui; 
 and domestic honor gained the ascendancy, and inde- 
 cency slunk away and hid itself. Then tlie maiden 
 and spinster at the east were seized witii a desire ti> 
 visit their aunt or sister and see California. Mu< li 
 to their surprise, most of tlieni found Imshands shortly 
 after their arrival, never dreaming of such a possibil- 
 ity. Enterprising young men advertised for wives ; 
 but the demand being so much greater than the sup- 
 ply, this method was not the most successful. Fre- 
 quently, however, through the medium of a c<)mm»»ii 
 friend, likenesses of a very puny man in California 
 and a sorrowing damsel at the east would be ex- 
 changed, letters would follow, and then the wooir 
 would send on the passage-money, and the blushing 
 fair one liasten over the sea to her adorer. Old 
 sweethearts often came out to their lovers, who nut 
 and married them on the steamer deck. 
 
 It needs nothing fui-ther to prove the influence of 
 pure woman on those destined to receive hai>piness at 
 her hand than to notice the behavior of one who is 
 expecting a wife or sweetheart. Some timu before tlic 
 steamer is due, the greasy hat ami checked sliirt itiv 
 thrown aside, and whitewashed of his past, with clean 
 linen and shaven chin, the happy expectant is suddenly 
 seized with a desire to attend churcli. He manifests, 
 perhaps, a deep interest in the Sunday-school, and 
 wishes to become a teacher; he si'»hs over the desr. 
 crations of tiie sabbath, and the moral depravity of tl r 
 country. As the liour for the steamer to arrive drav >. 
 near, he becomes nervous, business seems irksome, 1 c 
 looks in the glass, pulls out a gray hair or two, bruslus 
 his new clothes, and walks up to the t<ip of Telegrapli 
 hill, and then around to the Mercliants' Exchange 
 Finally the steamer is telegraphed ; he rushes down to 
 the wharf, piously curses the general slowness of things, 
 springs on board before the plank is put out, elbows 
 his way through the crowd, finds her, and clasps 
 
W'lXKB AND OTHER WOMEN. 
 
 •11 
 
 li>l 
 
 her to his regenerate lieart Gatukt teiUam'mt rirtns! 
 
 The men wore relatively superior to the women. 
 As a ruUs the better class of men came to California, 
 and a more ordinary class of women. The trip to this 
 country was tedious, dis*j;ustin|ij to a sensitive, d«'licate 
 woman; there was no society here, no liouscliold con 
 venience. It was a very hard ]>lace for a wo.ii;i:;. 
 The finer specimens of woman) lood could find hushiinds 
 at home; there was no necessity for them to undi'r^o 
 tlie h«>rror8 of a sea voj'aj^e to California, and its so- 
 ciety afterward. Nevertheless, nmltitudes of nohic 
 and true women did come; Imt it nmst he admitted 
 that woman here in early times was not the intelli<;c'iit, 
 refined, and sensible heinuf that is found in oldei- and 
 more settled ctjmnmnities. In California ^ood lius- 
 hands re!j;ularly once a we«'k rolled up their sleeves, 
 and helped wife or dau<.;hter at the wash-tuh. 
 
 To live in purity, woman must liave the sympathy 
 of those around her; thousands in California have 
 fallen simply from the fact that men had no faith in 
 them. Othello j)layed before a Califoniian audience 
 ill those days would have appealed to sentiments 
 stran;j,e to the hearts of many of the hearers. 
 
 Now and then shi})s from France and elsewhere 
 W(>uld enter the })ort., with conjpanies of respectable 
 nirls on board, who would be immediately caujjjht up 
 i)y gamblers and saloon-keepers, to assi.st at tlie tables 
 or dispense drinks, at two hundred and fifty dollars a 
 month; but alas, within a week or two, des})ite the 
 vigilance of the proprietor, they would be mated! 
 
 Thus we see that there were true women and there 
 were false women amontj those the ^old-seekca's left 
 behind. California widows they were called, and they 
 were to be found in every rural town, every hotel, 
 Itoarding-house, and watering place. Faithful, modest 
 wives and mothers some of them were, patiently 
 waiting the end of this sudden and strange family dis- 
 rui)tion. Round them were mouths to feed and no re- 
 mittance came ; yet never doubting, the heart-en- 
 
 ,r 
 
812 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 shrined image was crowned with fidelity and noble 
 purpose. And thus, through years of anxious toil 
 they held to oheir hopes, dreaming at night horrible 
 dreains of staring gold-diggings up to their neck in 
 glittering mud, their heads wreathed in rattlesnakes, 
 gnawed by wolves, or cut off for foot-balls by the 
 savages, all the while not knowing whether their hus- 
 bands were alive or not. Their existence they knew 
 to be a living death, yet they worked away, sewing 
 for the tailor, making shirts, giving lessons to the 
 neiijhbors' children, or even working out. 
 
 Tliere wore others, however, who took a more freo 
 and fanciful view of their situation, and determined to 
 enjoy and make the best of it. These lived on the 
 cliarity of their family or friends. It was unsafe to 
 treat them with coldness or neglect, for any moment 
 their Imsband miLilit return a millionaire. Younsj: 
 and beautiful and abandoned 1 True, temporarily and 
 for lier own benefit abandoned ; but wliy sliould lie 
 think more of gold tlian of lier? Tlie first taste of 
 wcullock was sweet; by it, however, the a[)})etite was 
 only wlietted, not gratified. Former and unsuccess- 
 ful lovers weit! now remembered and smiled ui)on, and 
 flirtation was found a pleasing way to shorten tin; 
 liours of a husband's absence. Some returned in tinu; 
 to reclaim their wives from too free a course of dissi- 
 [)ation ; otliers did not. 
 
 Du Haillv refers to the Enolisli custom of sendinu' 
 young wonu;n out to India to get married tliere, and 
 says tliat tliis custom finds its counterpart in Califoi'- 
 nia in a curious prospectus in whicli an American 
 woman, Mrs Farnliam, offered to organize, on a lar-ge 
 scale, a scheme for the emigration of women to San 
 Francisco. Tlie highest respe'*tal>ility was required, 
 and no emigrant was admitted under twenty-five years 
 of age. A ship was chartered especially for their use, 
 and each must have 1200 francs. Small as was the 
 amount required, the enterprise was not a success ; but 
 this did not hinder the Californian colonization agents 
 
WIVES AND OTHER WOMEN. 
 
 313 
 
 from continuing to solicit in their publications the 
 fair sex to come. "What does it matter about 
 
 money," they said, "that is the last consideration of a 
 gentleman among us." "The young person who loves 
 the world and its j)leasures," says one of them, " will 
 find here [)artners ready to procure her every enjoy- 
 ment ; while she who is inclined to domestic comfort 
 will meet quiet and steady men whose doors will open 
 to welcome her." 
 
 Of the wrecked hopes of men in California many 
 speak; of the wasted sympathy of woman, of her vain 
 yearning for tlie promised tenderness, of her faith 
 among the faitliless, her constancy after all affection 
 liad been withdrawn from her, her deep sorrows and 
 sufferin<js as tlie reward of a devoted life — none at all. 
 What are the blows of battle to hnn who engages in 
 the conflict in comparison to the helpless agony of an 
 eye-witness? All thhigs will a man give for his life. 
 Woman gives all for love; deny her this and she is 
 dead indued. A catalogue of Californian infidelities, 
 i»roken vows, brutal treatment, failure to provide on 
 the part of him who took from a happy home a tender 
 loving heart under promise of eternal love and pro- 
 tection, would make one blush for the rjicc. Men 
 1 anie hitlier to rough it, and it did them no harm, 
 hut added to tlieir manliness. For woman, a life in 
 California in early times was [)robabl3' one of tlie most 
 trying positions she could be called upt)n to endure, 
 lier lov(^, her j)ride, her health, and stieiigth, lier 
 honor and reliuion, all being brought under t\iQ crucial 
 test. If she could drudge by day, and 'vithstand dis- 
 comforts by night, and live under it, she could 
 iiuiiiage to get ahmg; but with want and unkindness 
 tills could not always be. Too often her weary life 
 N\ as soulless duty, and death the only recompense ; 
 anfl thus was her gentle spirit crushed and made ripe 
 f' »r heaven. 
 
 Content is godliness; but for a woman to have 
 (outont, she must have something beside wealth ; her 
 
 
 B 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 (■ ;; 
 
 
 1 
 
 : 1 
 
 1 ,. , 
 
 ft 
 
 
 
 
 % 
 
 
 1 
 
 M 
 
 ■i: 
 
 1 
 
 ill 
 
314 
 
 SOCIETY. 
 
 heart knows no alchemy that will turn it into gold. 
 There is a limit beyond which mere mental culture 
 and unaspiring industry, be they never so earnest and 
 patient, cannot broaden or deepen the soul. There 
 must be a little sentiment, a little feminine ambition, 
 a little womanly excitement other than that which a 
 purely money-making husband usually gives ; else the 
 tender harmon}'^ of the heart is silenced, and the deli- 
 cate flower witliers and droops. California was no 
 place for a fastidious woman. She who could wash 
 best, iron best, or cook best, was the most independ- 
 ent, and the one to win fortune, and even happiness if 
 her nature admitted it. Nevertheless, there were 
 many whose hearts nothing but a golden key could 
 unlock. 
 
 It is not to be wondered at that intemperance in 
 business and pleasure should result in social discord. 
 Tliougli the Yankee element predominated, there was 
 in society at the first, scarcely what could be called a 
 recognized or recognizable nationality ; California was 
 then but a geographical expression — Vox et praiteiea 
 nihil. 
 
 The guests of a large dinner or supper party were 
 as varied in character and qualities of mind as amouL;- 
 the rich men of Rome, who had acquired wealth l»y 
 disreputable means in the days of Pliny, though tli 
 San Francisco host did not carry the distinction s 
 fiir as to serve up dift'erent qualities of food and win 
 to the different guests as in Rome. 
 
 10 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FURTHER ABNORMITIES. 
 
 E come gli stomei ne portan I'al 
 Nel fredclo tempo a shiera lartta 
 
 rga e piena; 
 
 Cosi quel fiato gli spirit! mali 
 Di qud, ili Id, di giii, di sii gli mena : 
 Nulla speranza gli conforta mai ; 
 Non (ihe di posa, ma di minor punor. 
 
 -Delt Inferno. 
 
 In Luci; iiV l^ialogues of tho Dead, Charon com- 
 pels all to Soiip before entering his boat; the rich man 
 of his wealth, the M)in man of his foppery, the king of 
 liis pride and kingship, the athlete of his flesh, the 
 partrician of his noble birth and his honors, the phil- 
 ( )Sopher of his disputatiousness, his rhetorical flourishes, 
 his antitheses and parallelisms, and all his wordy 
 trumpery. None may go to the regions of tlu^ dead 
 even with a rag of clothes on. 
 
 Now there are many in California who would like 
 to take with them there all they liave, who are trem- 
 blingly fearful oi dy hip: fv\ci leaving the wealth they 
 love so much ; who cfttuu.t, bear the thought of i)arting 
 with it even aftei d^ atb ; iswA so tliey leave it to be dis- 
 sipated by lawyers unci oxueu.tors, instead of devoting 
 it themselves to some ime il » id noble purpose. Many 
 large estates have, in this way been scattered, which 
 doubtless wrunix the souls ( f their former owners as 
 they looked up, watchful and wistful, at the hapless 
 flow of their dear ducats. After all, there is a not 
 wholly unjust law of compensation applicable to savage 
 and civilized, poor rnd rich, the past and the present; 
 cen the most tori- "^vted in life may find relief in the 
 
 ( 818) 
 
 > I 
 
 If 
 
 M'' 
 
816 
 
 FURTHER ABNORMITIES. 
 
 sweets of death. Let him beware who takes to him- 
 self more than his share of good, for upon him the 
 gods will lay a corresponding quota of evil. 
 
 To a gold-laden ass all doors open. But the wealth- 
 winners of California were not asses, whatever may 
 prove to be some of their descendants, who like an 
 oyster have nmch mouth but no head. Their lives, 
 it is true, were too much like the life of an ass, enticed 
 to drag its load by tlie fodder held before it, and which 
 sees nothing but the fodder. They worked for money 
 as if they had a wolf in their stomachs. Some were 
 made wealtliy by their avarice ; others were made ava- 
 ricious by their wealth. There vere men among them 
 of whom it might be said, as it / " Jeremy Taylor, 
 "His very dust is gold"; there \> others of whom 
 we are compelled to admit, *'Hite> very gold is 
 dust." 
 
 Wealtli does not accumulate in the liands of a com- 
 munity by accident, nor by divhie inter[)ositi()n, neitlier 
 docs literature, art, nor science. Because men will 
 so and so is not a sufficient reason for their doings; 
 all human actions aie the result of cause, and individ- 
 uals will to act, or they act, because of that cause. It 
 was the aj)pli('ati().i of the principles of political economy 
 to social ])liilosopliy, though carried not quite so far 
 as at the present time, that made the Wealth of Nutmis 
 of Adam Smith so long the popular and powerful ex- 
 [)onont of economic principles. 
 
 j^]arly in the sixties there arose a race of bonanza 
 kings with silver souls; silver were their friends, and 
 silver were their enemies, for to be worthy their con- 
 sideration at all, they nmst be of silver; silver was 
 their meat and meditations; their doors were barred 
 with silver, and silver paved their way to the final 
 abode of souls. There was a whiskey demon and a 
 silver demon, and these two demons fought; the silver 
 denum caught the whiskey demon, but the whiskey 
 demon gnawed out the vitals of the silver demon. 
 Great is whiskey, and great is silver, but the greatest 
 
MORAL STANDARD OF THE TIMES. 
 
 317 
 
 of all is the bonanza king who gives his best friend 
 points that direct liim the shortest road to ruin. 
 
 Then spawned speculation, all kinds of gambling 
 being in vogue in saintly circles and rabble congrega- 
 tions — all except the honest old-time games, such as 
 faro, monte, and poker. And there were established 
 among the sand-hills society shops, where the undying 
 reign of fashion set in; and politician shops, wliere 
 fat offices were sold ; and peculation shops, where 
 office-holders might turn an honest i)eiiny, and pay 
 the purchase-money for their place. 
 
 There were some good fellows among the latter-day 
 rich men, but not many. They were generally of tlie 
 Gripus order ; some hard drinkers nnong them, who 
 when in their cups did not always treat witli distin- 
 guished courtesy their guests ; who were well enough 
 satisfied to let Lucullus suj) with Lucullus. Avarice 
 gnawed at their vitals like the parasite in the stomach 
 of a shark. Banks sprang up whose caterpillar was a 
 steamboat or a grog-shop, and dignified dames sat in 
 stately parlors whose grub was the laundry. These 
 later overwhelmingly rich ones were quite difierent 
 from the free-hearted and free-handed of the tlusli 
 times, who, like Ali Baba, would not take the time 
 to count their gold, but measured it. The enormous 
 wealth of the former seemed rather to create a hunger 
 for more money, with a gnawing appetite ever in- 
 creased by what it fed on. Then perhaps they would 
 grow covetous of fame and higher social standing, and 
 so flit about, hither and thither, restless, and perhaps 
 reckless, in search of something which, when found, 
 only added to their unappeased desires. 
 
 5 
 
 Along the pathway of nations, savage and civilized, 
 we see every community with its moral ideal which 
 acts as an individual cohesive force holding society to- 
 gether. It seems of less importance what the ideal is 
 than that there should be one. Theft was the moral 
 standard round which revolved all virtue in the mind 
 
 s 
 
 k If 
 
 
 u 
 
318 
 
 FURTHER ABNORMITIES, 
 
 I 
 
 of an Apache, while the Comanche would probably 
 have placed murder first. In ancient Greece, far 
 above female chastity was patriotism, while with us 
 the relative importance of the two virtues is reversed. 
 Spain's strongest social bond was loyalty, that and 
 its ill-favored companion, religious bigotry. In the 
 days of pious vigils, and self-crucifixions, humility was 
 at a premium, while later boldness and bravery were 
 the highest virtues. 
 
 Now, although tlie chief object of every one pres- 
 ent was money, wealth was not their highest admira- 
 tion. Gold was plentiful. All started on an equality. 
 If in the scramble some filled their pockets while 
 others did not, the former were lucky, and that was 
 all. All of them were still men, good me!i or bad 
 men as they were before, and not one whit changed ; 
 nor were they in the eyes of any there present special 
 objects of adoration. Temperance, chastity, piety, 
 none of these assuredly were the moral ideal of the 
 time, neither was patriotism, asceticism, nor any of 
 the soft amenities of life. 
 
 What then was that paramount virtue worthy the 
 devout admiration of tJiis august rabble? It was a 
 (juality for which I find no single exact expression in 
 any vocabulary. It was a new quality for worshipful 
 jmrposes, and made uj) of several comnum qualities. 
 Take from extravagance its love of display, from 
 })rodigalitv the element which tends to the destruction 
 of its possessor, and from munificence every appear- 
 ance of charity, and we approacli the opposite of 
 what is connnonly called meamiess, which was the 
 exact opposite of the moral ideal of the time. Gen- 
 orosity, open-handedness, large-heartedness, here was 
 the ideal; and if it ran its ])ossessor upon tlie slioal.'; 
 of bankruptcy, or into a drunkard's grave, it was 
 lamentable, but no such black and accursed evil as 
 parsimoniousness, stinginess, niggardliness, or in a 
 word, meanness. There was nothing in the world so 
 mean as meamiess. If a debtor was unfortunate and 
 
CLASSIC OATHS. 
 
 m 
 
 could not pay; all right, better luck next time. It' 
 he was thoroughly competent and honest lie could ob- 
 tain credit anywhere, twice as much as before. But 
 if he was a mean man, if he had resorted to any 
 trick, or subterfuge, or had attempted to cover any 
 cunning; or if he was low in liis ideas, grovelling in 
 liis tastes, close-fisted and contemptible, a mangy dog 
 were better than he. 
 
 As in other abnormal accom})lishments, so in pro- 
 fanity, the miner aimed at tlie liighest excelkincc. 
 The ordinary insipid swearing lie scorned, and so hi- 
 vcnted new terms of blasphemy befitting his more 
 exalted ideas. Since the days i)f Cain God was never 
 so cursed. Profanity was adopted as a fine art, and 
 practised with the most refined delicacy and tact. 
 From morning till ni<jht men mouthed their oaths 
 and then swallowed them. The lanyjuaj^e of bias- 
 pliemy, with its innumerable dialects and idioms, de- 
 veloped into a new tongue, which displayed great 
 depth and variety, with delicate shades befitting tint 
 idiosyncrasies 'jf individual swearers. Tlie character 
 of the man was nowhere more clearly defined than 
 ill the quality and quantity of his oaths; one who 
 ( (»uld not or would not swear was scarcely a man vt 
 all, and but little better than a })ious hypocrite or a 
 woman. Among the most cultivated blasphemers, 
 who made swearhig a study, euphony was first of all 
 regarded; and this was etf'ected by alliteration, an 
 adjiTtive followed by a suljstantive both beginning 
 with till' same letter. The style though studietl 
 might be of the sinq)le or tloritl cast, but it was sure to 
 he l)oth original and etfectivc. 
 
 Xot that all men swore, or that all the swearing of 
 tiie world during this epoch was tlone here; I only 
 < laiiii that it was here original, if not abnormal and 
 arti.^tic. 
 
 Oaths have their nuK)d and tense and number, their 
 individuality, and nationality. There is the sportive 
 
 ' I 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
FURTHER ABNORMITIES. 
 
 oath, light airy and graceful as the limbs of the youth- 
 ful dandy; the earnest oath; the angry oatli ; tlu; 
 frank and hearty oath, indicative of honesty and g<j()d 
 humor; the oath of success, in which the choictst 
 gems of irreverence are thrown off like soap-bubbk-s ; 
 , oaths of time, place, and occupation; the oath of com- 
 mon conversation, the nmrderous cut-throat oath, the 
 business oath, the oath of greeting, swearing when not 
 knowing what else to say; the midnight guttural 
 drunken oath, the clear ringing gladsome oath <it" 
 morning, the orthodox oath, oaths that are not oaths, 
 reluctantly coming from bashful inexperienced li[)s ; 
 tlie scientific doubly-refined oath of the gambhu- ; 
 oaths of nations, the good old round Englisli oatli, 
 racy and mouth-filling as even Hotspur should wisli, 
 the rolling sacre of the Frenchman, the infernal melody 
 of the Spaniard, the whining Yankee cussings, tlu; 
 spluttering Dutchman's swearings, and the imitative^ 
 intonations of the Celestial. The nmleteer relievccl 
 his burdened bosom in outpourings that seldom failtd 
 to convict the most impenitent animal. Approaching 
 the unfortunate mule that had fallen und(>r a heavy 
 load, or had mired in the mud, its driver would pi)ur 
 forth sucli a stream of profanity intc) its ear as would 
 make the dumb beast tremble in everv fibre, and 
 glance around with terrified eye as if expecting the 
 earth to open, or the invoked deity to smite to dust 
 the author of such fiendish imprecations. Under sucli 
 exhortations, native stubbornness gave way, and tlic 
 virtue of profanity was clearly vindicated hi the t^yrs 
 of the driver. 
 
 Indeed, notwithstanding all that has been said n - 
 garding vice and crime, I am not so sure that Califor- 
 nia in her wickedest days was worse than the pseudo 
 ligliteous states of the east and Europe. In the 
 shameful pleasantries of the times there were counttn- 
 balancing virtues, which went far toward preserviii;^ 
 the moral equilibrium. If iniquity here was more 
 unblushing, there was less of cant and hypocrisy, less 
 
IMPORTED WICKEDNESS. 
 
 321 
 
 of covert deceit and pliarisaical humbug, less of that 
 wliite lying and envy and jealousy which constitutes 
 the pabulum of older religious and fashionable societies. 
 Loyalty to an honest and enlightened ideal is, after 
 all, the truest morality. Ill-fitting forms, provoking 
 dissimulation and falseness, keep the social pool always 
 turbid. Experience tells us that wickedness, in greater 
 or less degree, is inseparable from human nature ; to 
 hide away the evil, and cover our wrong-doing with 
 placid smiles, polished bearing, or sanctimonious coun- 
 tenance, may not be, after all, the surest way of 
 eradicating it. 
 
 A world of ideas was here flung into a world of 
 practise, and until right was ready, force nmst rule. 
 
 Like the returning heroes of the Trojan war, every 
 leader has his history and historian, each one of whom 
 sought to outdo the rest in their relation of daring 
 deeds and marvelous tales, all leaving far behuid in 
 this respect -^schylus and Agamemnon. 
 
 Once when evening had stretched the shadows 
 across the street, I saw a man of middle age, robust 
 and proud, pouring into the bosom of a friend a tor- 
 rent of sorrow, accompanied by liashful, agonizing 
 tears. The cause of his grief I know not. It may 
 have been the destruction of his hopes by fire, for on 
 every side were the smoking cinders of a recent con- 
 flagration which had laid hundreds low, and caused 
 many a strong man to weep internally if not in actual 
 tears. And who shall blame them, brave men though 
 they be, for this is the third, or fourth, or fifth ruin 
 with some of them, the third or fifth time fate has 
 S(!nt them forth with only their head and two hands 
 to begin life anew. I did not stop to listen, gaze, or 
 question. With grief such as this, no stranger inter- 
 meddleth. 
 
 Yet to the disappointed man of toil I would say, 
 yield thee not. Yet another blow, and another, and 
 another. As long as thou canst strike, I care not 
 for the result, thou art not overcome. As long as 
 
 Cal. Int Poc. 21 
 
 ,: Wi 
 
322 
 
 FURTHER ABNORMITIES. 
 
 roU)nL!,ti pulsates in the heart it matters not the outer 
 conditions or success, the man hves and nothing can 
 queuf'li his energies. The strokes fall re»jfularly and 
 to the purpose. Better to sow and never reap than 
 not to sow, for in sowing lies the spirit of increu.se 
 more tlian in reaping. He who can always work, I 
 care not ft)r the result, is no failure. Work itself is 
 life, progress, success. But alas I when courage casts 
 off til J man, and coward fear enters in and saps activ- 
 ity, unstrings the nerves and weakens the mind and 
 body, uncaging hope and relaxing the tendons that 
 grapple difticulties, the poor wretch, though he live 
 and oat and sleep happily as ever, is dead already. 
 Work, work I say; never mind what conies of it, 
 work. 
 
 For of such is the kingdom of earth and heaven. 
 For so are we made. Like the Wanderin<jc Jew, we 
 cannot stop. Ever and onward we nmst march, march, 
 march. There is no rest but tlie rest of rotting, and 
 even in this tliere is evermore work, work. Hence, a 
 ni in having lost his hold and become workkss, is neither 
 of this world nor of the next, but floats in a purga- 
 torial abeyance worse than death. 
 
 Weep, my good friend, if you will, there is nothing 
 unmanly in tears. Despair not of him from whosi; 
 sensitive or passionate nature adversity wrings tears : 
 especially if they be tinctured by wrath or bitterness; 
 but despair rather of him who with pointless languisli- 
 nient lives usque ad nauseam. Well directed effort 
 cannot always fail; but if it so appears, still let an- 
 ticipation wipe the brow of labor and triumphal visions 
 sweeten healthful sleep. 
 
 Among many both of citv and country there was 
 no fixed standard of morality. Each had been edu- 
 cated in a different school, that is to say, those of tlu in 
 who had been taught morality at all ; each held a dilf- 
 erent tradition, or no tradition; religion was a father's 
 rod or a mother's tears, and law and justice were in 
 their own right arm, so that, as with the Sophists 
 
BUSINESS AND MORAL COURAGE. 
 
 3i»3 
 
 of Plato's tiino, plcnsiiro and pain, profit ami loss, were 
 about the only criLcTia ot rijj-lit and wrony; and uold 
 and brass wore iIm. only criteria of respoctabiHty. 
 That unblushiiiiT eii<.'rgy which }»ushes men in wliere 
 angels fear to tread, which so obscures the senses that 
 (ino can scarcely see one's own failures, seemed at 
 once, and almost unconsciously, to bear a man onward 
 upon the topmost wave. If he fell he had no thought 
 ot anything but io get on his feet again, surely he 
 would not lie and cry about it like a child. 
 
 "Many of my friends have left me," says the walt- 
 iii':;. working one, "have left me for the states. Of 
 latt , Sam Punches and others. And as they left they 
 pictured me of what they should see at home; of their 
 coniini; friendly meetinL'"s, ioys, and wet-eved ijreet- 
 iiigs, such as my heart had often told me should be 
 mine the day I might again behold the lustrous scenes 
 of vouth. And I wonder if the «>rass will look as 
 • aven, and tlie sun as l)nghtlv shine as fanev now pic- 
 tures. Shall I see the faces that rise before me now, 
 tlie forms and features photogra})hed in my memory 
 years aijo, or will tliey seem stran*'e to me. wry and 
 wii'dvled \ Will I have merry meetings and heart- 
 felt greetings, I wonder? Days are dead and many 
 dark nights have sunk into the tomb since I bade my 
 native hills good-b\-e. I see them as I left them, and 
 tliev are waving me adieus: I wonder if they all have 
 changed, if I have changed. My beard has grown 
 stul)ble, I grant, silver-gray mingles with the brown 
 of my hair, yet my heart has not lost its buoyancy, nor 
 my eye its brightness ; I can still laugh and love 
 though I have felt ^vhat sorrow is. 
 
 "Home shall see me one day, so the inward wl.is- 
 per strikes my ear, and a mother's kiss shall call back 
 childhood. Old of head but young of heart, a motli- 
 ers's kiss shall scatter the silver ijrav hair and smooth 
 and soften the fixed features; in a sister's embrace 
 years of wanderings are lost. Then how soon my ab- 
 
 ilrt 
 
 JUl 
 
 
 
FURTIIEIl ABNORMITIES 
 
 sencc and return both alike will be forgotten. Some- 
 thini:^ tells me I shall see thein. 
 
 •' Will Barry I shall see ; mv old playmate, school- 
 mate, Will, fidus Achates. Will is married now, and 
 he will talk to me of wife and little ones, as he would 
 talk of an extra head, or arm, or leg. Wife and little 
 ones 1 I wonder if Will has changed. Merry meet- 
 ings and suppers; bright eyes, winning smiles, and 
 soul-swelling nmsic I Shall I meet one nearer still 
 than sister or mother; one who, laying her head 
 upon my breast, and tightly clasping me around shall 
 make me swear to wander no more; who breathuig rest 
 into my soul, opens my eyes to beauties hitherto ob- 
 scure, ojiens to my longings a passage outward and up- 
 ward, and who fills the measure of my desires with 
 her own satisfying self — lives she, and for me ? " 
 
 Millions and millions of such floating thoughts 
 hover ever round the brain of the waiting, working 
 one, nerving the arm and sustaining existence itself, 
 filling the dark shaft with bright images, furnishing 
 stuft' for dreams. 
 
 I never thought I should fancy the occupation of a 
 pawn-broker, and yet I cannot see what there is about 
 it that should necessarily render shop and shopman so 
 obnoxious to Christian nostrils. It is said that their 
 ox-eyed, hook - nosed and ugly-mouthed proprietors 
 make their money through the necessities of the un- 
 fortunate and poor. Granted, but who does not? 
 Would you on that account close the comer grocery 
 and the bakery ? Does not your banker acquire a 
 pledge from his wearisome client before he deals out 
 to him the ducats? Curse them for grinding the 
 poor I Curse, then, all the world. Curse fathers for 
 feeding their children bread earned by the sweat of 
 hirelhigs ; curse mothers for pointing the finger of 
 pcorn to those pitiable wretches whose very existence 
 is contamination to their untempted daughters. Is 
 your purse-proud capitalist who would see a poor 
 
THE rAAN'NBUOKER. 
 
 3*20 
 
 Wfu. starve before he would lend her five dollars on 
 a ilead Imsband'a ring, any more the friend of hunum- 
 ity than the grindin|jj Jew who wt>uld ? So it is with 
 many of our popular prejudices — sift them and you 
 fiml no substance. 
 
 Oh, my pro[)hetic soul, mine uncle 1 Many a proud 
 head has bowed beneath the symbolic balls for the 
 first time in California. Could the pled^jes at tlie 
 slio])s of San Francisco pawn-brokers rise up and 
 si)eak, what tales they would tell ; of what sijjfhs, and 
 poverty, and struggles, and despair they would speak ; 
 of what broken vows, of what heartless cruelty, of 
 wiiat devoted love and self-sacrifice, of what agoniz- 
 iiig deaths 1 What touching, silent el(H|uence in tiiose 
 worn and faded articles, many of them once pledges of 
 affection, now pledges of necessity 1 
 
 Nothing smacked more strongly of the topsy turvy 
 times, or was more characteristicallv Californian than 
 tliesc pawn-brokers' shops. Ten per cont. a nioiitli; 
 that was the rate charged, and the interest for one 
 day was the same as for one month. Quick turns 
 wen' likewise the rule, for the sharp-eyed Shylock re- 
 ceived the riglit to sell pledges unredeemed at the ex- 
 piration of one month. What a contrast there must 
 be between pawn-brokers' pledges of different parts 
 of the world. Here you see, scattered about the 
 jvawn-broker's boudoir, the materials for a first-class 
 ouiiosity shop; guns, revolvers, bowie-knives, swords, 
 dress coats, camel-hair shawls, clocks, watches, dia- 
 monds, meerschaum pipes, opera-glasses, books, gold- 
 headed canes, flounced dresses, pictuies, and every 
 conceivable article of value which is not too cumber- 
 some or difficult of transportation. This temple of 
 distress, the necessitous of overs'^ class and caste ap- 
 proach : the unsuccessful adventurer, the ruined game- 
 ster, the bloated victim of dissipation. See that pale, 
 broken-hearted widow approach with tremulous step. 
 She is a novice still proud in her poverty. With un- 
 easy glances at the passing witnesses of her disgrace, 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
326 
 
 FURTHER ABNORMITIES. 
 
 she enters a dimly-lighted, ill-ventilated room, steps 
 up tt) an opening in the barrier of separation between 
 customer and proprietor, similar to a post-office win- 
 dow, and timidly lays upon the board perhaps a dia- 
 mond ring, relic of happy days dejmrted. A dark 
 visaged man in greasy coat and faded smoking-cap 
 froin within seizes the jewel, and through glasses of 
 the greatest magnifying power, critically scrutinizes 
 it as if to read the sparkles of its soul. 
 
 "How much?" at length he asks, peering at his 
 customer over the top of his spectacles. 
 
 "Thirty dollars," replies the applicant, who wishes 
 to borrow as little as possible so that the jewel may 
 be the more easily redeemed. 
 
 " No more than twenty," the man in spectacles 
 briefly responds. The ring had cost a hundred dol- 
 lars years ago when diamonds were not worth so 
 much as now. But taking the coin and certificate 
 which the mati of money as a matter of course pre- 
 sents, the victim of necessity departs, thinking "when 
 and how shall I redeem it?" 
 
 Lines of travel were soon established and every 
 facility offered the impatient gold-seekers for getting 
 from place to place. Good wagon roads were marked 
 out through the valleys which in the summer an- 
 swered every purpose, but after the winter rains had 
 thoroughly saturated the parched and porous soil a 
 loaded wagon once off the beaten track sank to the 
 hubs and must be unloaded and pried out as from a 
 marsh. Through the town the stage thundered out 
 into the valley, over tlie broad plain, up the ascent, 
 through rugged and sometimes more than suspicions 
 defiles, then down by gradual and winding descent to 
 where the half-stripped miners planted their heavy 
 blows through the hot livelong day. The river steam- 
 boats entered into the spirit of the times, and now 
 and then there was strong opposition. Then might 
 be heard opposition runners at the wharf crying "One 
 dollar to Sacramento by the magnificent steamer 
 
STEAMBOATS AND STAGES. 
 
 327 
 
 Senator, the finest and fastest boat that ever turned a 
 wheel from Long Wharf, sound and strong, with nnr- 
 rors, mahogany doors and silver hinges — one dollar to- 
 night — feather pillows and curled hair-mattresses, 
 eight young-lady passengers and not a nigger from 
 stem to stern of her. All the dead languages spoken, 
 and all for one dollar 1" "Low fares and no monop- 
 oly," yells another, "no more rotten bottoms and 
 bursting boilers, and beds with bushels of bed-bugs 
 and fleas 1 " 
 
 In August 1853 the fare to Sacramento by boat 
 was one dollar in the cabin and twenty-five cents on 
 deck. Opposition steamers flaunted their banners, and 
 Long Wharf presented a stirring scene. He was a 
 luckless fellow who fell unprepared into the hands of 
 the runners. Amidst cries of "no imposition prac- 
 tised by this line," and cursings on a\\ sides of combi- 
 nations, monopolies, and oppositions, he is fenced in 
 by the philistines, and nolens volens he is hurried to 
 the boat, whose representatives are for the moment in 
 the ascendant. 
 
 At the various landings along the rivers, stages 
 take up the passengers and whirl them on toward the 
 mines, and when wheeled vehicles are sto})i)ed by the 
 rugged barriers of the Sierra foothills, saddle nmles 
 stand ready to hurry them on to their destination. 
 
 Out of every necessity is born a new phase of 
 diaracter; and the Californian stage-driver — the 
 whip par excellence of early times, now unhappily no 
 more — is not the least origmal and fantastic — of the 
 great conglomeration. Culled from the scum, with a 
 swaggering air, a rough manner, and uncleanly mouth, 
 lie is not without heart, conscience, and deportment. 
 He is a lord in his way, the captain of his craft, the 
 fear of timid passengers, the admiration of stable- 
 boys, and the trusty agent of his employer. He 
 prides himself in being an expert in his profession, 
 to which all other occupations and professions are 
 subordinate; all must sooner or later fall hito his 
 
FURTHER ABNORMITIES. 
 
 ;il 
 
 hands, for to this end towns are built and men and 
 women migrate hither and thither. 
 
 An offer of money as a gratuity would be received 
 as a deadly insult, but he will graciously accept a 
 cigar or a glass of liquor. Stage coaches are levelers 
 of distinction, and the judge or governor on the box 
 beside the driver is his equal, if not indeed his in- 
 ferior; for can a man of law or politics drive a stage ? 
 He who travels by steamer or stage must resign his 
 liberty, and place his destiny for the time being in 
 the hands of the august commander. Meeting on 
 the road, the friendly drivers halt and hold a confer- 
 ence, mingling with their classic speech the most 
 refined blasphemy. In places of danger the stage- 
 driver manages his team with the coolest dexterity ; 
 but he will not go one inch out of his way to save 
 his passengers from the fear of perdition. Sometimes 
 he sees safety in speed, and performs wonderful feats 
 in circumventing obstacles ; again he trims his boat 
 or empties out the cargo. 
 
 Two styles of vehicles were used, the Concord coach, 
 carrying nine inside and two or five beside the driver 
 outside, and the mud-wagon, of larger or smaller di- 
 mensions according to roads and traffic. The best 
 horses, four or six in number, were employed, the stage 
 proprietor, like all others of quick perception and ac- 
 tive energy who came to California, soon learning 
 wherein lies true economy. Over a good road, ten 
 miles an hour were readily made. 
 
 Before the hotel and stage office in Sacramento, at 
 dawn of day, were drawn up side by side, all fronting 
 one way, twenty or thirty coaches, each behind ft)ur 
 restive horses, at whose heads stood grooms hoklini,' 
 them in check. Men of every nation and degree, eacli 
 with a roll of blankets, and many carrying a rifle, elbow 
 their way from a candle-light breakfast through a labyr- 
 inth of horses and wheels, with lighted pipes and bottles 
 of rum, seeking their respective coaches. The driver 
 mounts his seat, casts a critical glance over the rig- 
 
STAGING EPISODES. 
 
 ging, swears at the horses, politely directs his atten- 
 dant to make some change, gathers up the " ribbons," 
 and turning half round bellows to the crowd, "Ail 
 aboard for Brighton, Mormon Island, Mud Springs, 
 and Hangtown I " In times of opposition, the confu- 
 sion was increased ten-fold by runners. " Now, gen- 
 tlemen, this way for Nevada; take you there in five 
 hours; last chance to-day for Coloma and George- 
 town, Auburn and Yankee Jim's I'' 
 
 Soon all is ready, and off they go, amidst shouts 
 and cracking of whips, and clatter of horses' feet, and 
 the rattling of stages, through the town, and out into 
 the fresh morning air, into the vastness of the open 
 sea-like plain, diving through the long grass, under 
 the wide-spread oaks, down into gulches, across 
 streams, and up into the hilly country of the mines. 
 All is exhiliration and mei riment. 
 
 Round the broad streets of Marysville gaily-decked 
 horses before brilliantly painted coaches snort and 
 prance in the early morning, while the office clerks 
 stand beside drivers and shout, "Here ye are for 
 Brown's Valley, Long Bar, Rough and Ready, and 
 Grass Valley." In like manner the Stockton herald 
 proclaims, ** Knights Ferry, Chinese Camp, James- 
 town, and Sonora." 
 
 Before the United States Hotel, Nevada City, one 
 morning in May 1855, stood two rival stages for 
 Forest City. One passenger only had put in an 
 appearance when the agents for the contending lines 
 came up and opened the business of the day. The 
 solitary passenger they found seated in the stage. 
 
 " What fare are you paying in there ? " asked the 
 agent for the opposition. 
 
 " Five dollars," was the reply. 
 
 "Get out, and I'll carry you for four." The pas- 
 senger, thinking it was an easy way to earn a dollar 
 complies and takes his seat in the opposite stage. 
 
 "Here, come back," exclaimed the other agent, 
 " I'll take you up for three." 
 
330 
 
 FURTHER ABNORMITIES. 
 
 The passenger is but fairly reseated in the first 
 stage, when an offer of two dollars tumbles him out 
 atjain, and an offer of one dollar sends him back. 
 But the opposition is not to be beaten m this way. 
 
 " Well, old fellow," he finally puts in, "sorry to 
 make you so much trouble, but get back here and I 
 will carry you for nothing, pay for your dinner, and 
 give you all the whiskey you can drink on the way 1 " 
 
 I will cite one instance showing the behavior of 
 these knights of the whip, under trying circum- 
 stances. Upon the box of the coach leaving Forest 
 City for Nevada the 23d of July, 1855, were seated 
 two men, members of the Jehu brotherhood, one of 
 whom was driving. Passing under the limb of a 
 tree which seemed in some way to have settled and 
 dropped down since the last trip, the top of the stage 
 was torn entirely off, and the driver thrown to the 
 ground. Of the eleven passengers one was thrown 
 upon the root and three jumped to the ground. The 
 crash of the breaking vehicle frightened the horses, 
 which started off at full speed, dragging the driver 
 some distance before they freed themselves from his 
 grasp. The horses were now dashing along tin road 
 at a furious rate, wholly without control, and the in- 
 mates of the stage apparently helpless. • At this junc- 
 ture the man who occupied the seat next the drivei, 
 deliberately got down upon the pjle, walked to the 
 end of it, gathered up the reins, returned safely to 
 his scat, and finally succeeded in stopping the horses 
 without further damage or loss of life. 
 
 It was when the long routes were established across 
 the plains, however, that staging assunjod its most 
 gigantic proportions ; one by the way of Salt Lake 
 and the other through New Mexico and Arizona — 
 two thousand miles in twenty days and nights, stop- 
 ping only to change horses and for meals. The road 
 across the Sierra Nevada was fearfully picturesque, 
 and going down the mountain sides was anythiiitj 
 but quieting to unsteady nerves Lighting a cigar 
 
MULE PACK TRAINS. 
 
 331 
 
 and putting on the break and lashing his snorting 
 licirses to a keen run, the skillful Jehu, with a diaboli- 
 cal leer, would send his coach dashing round precipice 
 and craggy wall on a thread of chiseled-out road, 
 swaying and sliding to within a few inches of death, 
 and dodging the overhanging rocks and trees, diving 
 in and out of ruts and whirling round on the verge 
 of chasms where but for the timely cry of " Sit up to 
 windward," horses, coach, and company would be 
 hurled into the abyss below. Moie than once the 
 thing has happened, when upon a drunken driver, a 
 slippery road, a fallen tree or boulder unexpectedly 
 t iicountered in rounding some sharp turn, was laid 
 the blame. 
 
 At first, between the several towns and camps 
 there were no wagon roads, but only mule trails ; so 
 that among the hills and in the mountains, provisions 
 and other supplies had to be carried to the miners 
 strapped to aparejos upon the backs of nmles. Thus 
 "packing" became a large business, and was one of 
 the features of the times. Mules for the purpose 
 were driven up from Sonora and Sinaloa, and Mexi- 
 cans were chiefly employed as va'queros or nmleteers. 
 ^Making up their cargoes hi loads of from two to four 
 hundred p junds according to the roads and the ability 
 of the respective animals, each load was evenly bal- 
 anced and firmly lashed on. At sunrise or there- 
 ahouts all was ready for the start, when an old horse 
 with a cow-bell at his neck and a boy on his back led 
 otf, and the tinkling of this bell the nmles would 
 follow day and night. Three or five Mexicans on 
 saddle-mules would follow a train of twenty or fifty 
 mules re-adjusting loads, assisting the fallen, and 
 urging on the whole with loud cries of "upal nmla, 
 arribal arribal" 
 
 Tlie Mexicans are the best vaqueros in tlie world. 
 They are as familiar with the habits and idiosyncra- 
 sies of the horse and mule as is the Arab of those of 
 the camel, and they sit upon the saddle as if part 
 
FURTHER ABNORMITIES. 
 
 of the animal. A loaded train will travel about 
 twenty-five miles a day. The favorite camping- 
 ground is a grassy spot near a stream of clear water ; 
 there at night the Mexicans dismount and unpack. 
 Bringing up one mule after another, a blind is thrown 
 over the animal's eyes to make it stand quietly, then 
 with one man on each side the hide ropes are rapidly 
 untied, and the cargoes, consisting of sacks of flour, 
 sugar, barley, and bacon, boxes of tobacco, dried fruit, 
 and miscellaneous groceries, and kegs of liquors, each 
 kept separately, are ranged in a row with the aparejo 
 or pack-saddle in a parallel row, each saddle directly 
 opposite its load, with the girth and saddle-cloth be- 
 longing to it folded and laid upon the top. The 
 mule's back is then examined, and if galled, remedies 
 are applied to the spot, and the tired animal is turned 
 loose to graze. In the morning the mules are driven 
 up and packed in like manner, and on they go. 
 
 On the whole the cunning little animal bears a 
 good character. Though sometimes stubborn, it is 
 as one possessed of the devil or overtaken by a fault 
 rather than willfully wicked, for in his ordinary mood 
 he is very patient and faithful. Though in some re- 
 spects his sensibilities may be somewhat blunted, he 
 nevertheless has a keen moral sense. He guards the 
 load entrusted him with intelligence and faithfulness, 
 being careful not to knock it against the trunks of 
 trees, stooping low to let it pass under an overhang- 
 ing limb, planting his feet firmly in dangerous places, 
 eyeing the rocks that jut out over the trail round the 
 mountain side, lest in an evil moment his pack striking 
 one, he be thrown from the narrow path, and hurled 
 trembhng into the abyss below. The moment tlio 
 pack is loose or anything drops from it he stops, and 
 no matter how hungry or weary he may be he is al- 
 lowed little time to eat until his work is finished. 
 
 Even in those days dreams were dreamed and proph- 
 ecies prophesied of the time when San Francisco 
 
DREAMS AND PROPHECIES. 
 
 333 
 
 should be but five days' journey from New York, and 
 the summer houses of the Gothamites should bask on 
 the Pacific slope ; of the time when the shadows of 
 gigantic trees should fall on mansions glittering like 
 temples; and in the vistas of long colonnades, fringed 
 and rainbowed by countless fountains, should stand 
 statues worthy of Phydias, and should walk a people 
 worthy to have been his models. These new Greeks 
 were the Califomians of the twentieth or thirtieth 
 centuries. Every woman is then to be pure as Diana, 
 wise as the unborn goddess, and fair as she whose 
 beauty awed the judges of Athens. The men are to 
 1)0 thewed like Hercules, shaped like Apollo, and 
 wise as Plato. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 ,^ij-<, called 
 
 The world is full of hopeful analogies, and handsome, dubious e 
 possibilities. 
 
 — Oeorge Eliot. 
 
 Business linos and methods were not definitely de- 
 termined. You might buy butter in a hardware store 
 and drygoods at a liquor shop. 
 
 When Purser Forbes, of the steamer CaJifoimia, 
 sot out to purchase stores, he ransacked the place, 
 picking up here and there what he could find, paying 
 usually a dollar a pound for provisions; whereupon, 
 becomnig somewhat disheartened, he dropped into a 
 restaurant, where, for a mutton chop, with poor bread, 
 and still poorer coffee, and no butter, he was made to 
 pay $3 50. Thereupon he thought it must be a great 
 country, and so went on with his purchases. 
 
 Business was conducted on high-pressure principles. 
 On Long Wharf there was a candy shop, the owner 
 of which, after six months' business failed for $100,000. 
 So quickly after a fire was building begun, that a water 
 bucket would have to be used before the new timbers 
 were laid. 
 
 Since the days of the Medici, who ranked hi'jrh 
 among the class of Lombard money-changers, tlie in- 
 signia of the three golden balls, derived from their 
 armorial bearings, hang over the entrance to the pawn- 
 broker's sliop. 
 
 Frenchmen were the first to raise the occupation of 
 boot-blacking into an art. The cleaning, and damj)- 
 ening, and plastering, and polishing were not done by 
 
 (334) 
 
SPECULATION AND WILD UNREST. 
 
 88ft 
 
 women, as Dibdin, in his bibliographical tour, pictures 
 it all in the streets of Caen. The few women tlitro 
 were in those days were used to blacken characters, 
 not boots. 
 
 Much has been said by a class of persons whose en- 
 thusiasm overshadows their judgment, of the breadth 
 and bigness of everything Californian, as if size were 
 worth, and bigness, greatness. 1 take no special pride 
 in tlie size of California's turnips, nor in the amount 
 of go!)] riddltsd from the placers; I rejoice in Califor- 
 nia's btauties, for beauty is a thing to rejoice in; I 
 bathe in her mellow, misty light, and drink her spark- 
 ling air, and rejoice in her capabilities, in t! k > intelligence 
 of her men and women — all that is good in them ; her 
 frailties have no attractions for me, her sins are hate- 
 ful to me. 
 
 By midsummer, 1850, fifty ships were in port, upon 
 whose cargoes the owners could not pay freight, and jmt 
 up at auction the ship's consignees would buy them in. 
 
 Traffic as here displayed, so loud, so large, so errat- 
 ic, was the very irony of speculation; and for long 
 afterward California was famous for wild ventures, 
 and liigh rates of labor and interest; yet it was clear- 
 ly enough demonstrated that such speculation may 
 prevail unattended by general financial convulsions in 
 a community whose circulation is purely gold and sil- 
 ver. The recuperative powers of the people after a fire, 
 Hood, or drought, were marvellous. An isolated com- 
 nmiiity with a metallic currency tends to the originating 
 and building up of private banks, andthougli a specu- 
 lative inflated condition of things appears at intervals 
 in a rapid spasmodic progress, the failure of any local 
 or incidental element of prosperity, though affecting 
 in some degree every membor of society, involved in 
 ruin comparatively fev.^ Nevertheless, the country, 
 and all about it was old and extravagant, the people 
 and their doings being no less whimsical and bizarre 
 til an tlie streets and the houses of the towns. Over 
 the sudden and wonderful development of wealth, 
 
8M 
 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 commerce in the young metropolis had become crazed. 
 A few actual transactions which I will cite will illus- 
 trate the diversities and vagaries of trade better than 
 any general description. 
 
 There were not lacking men, and a large class of 
 them at one time on California and Pine streets in San 
 Francisco, who were free and frolicking enough. During 
 the height of the mining stock excitement the board of 
 brokers boiled like a geyser cauldron. It was a queer 
 fraternity this brotherhood of air-beating knights; 
 surging and screeching in their struggles for commis- 
 sions, which, when obtained, were pitched hither and 
 thither with the reckless indifference common to all 
 kinds of gambling. The champagne seller, the cigar 
 seller, the jeweller, and livery-stable keeper, all came 
 in for their share. Merrily these brokers made their 
 money, and merrily they spent it. Most innocent 
 were they in their broad and philanthropic egotism. 
 In their eyes the universe revolved round their board- 
 room ; and the man who hammered the anvil and 
 yelled in well-recognized tones of superior discordance, 
 was the Great and only One, the First Cause and the 
 Last. Their creed and catechism were easy affairs. 
 " I believe in the only one and respectable board of 
 brokers," the former began, referring to the "big 
 board," as distinguished from two or three smaller 
 boards, whose members in the eyes of the aristocratic 
 band were vulgar parverms, and bad society ; and to 
 every such question as "Who made you?" and 
 " What is the chief end of man ? " the answer was 
 "A broker," "to be a broker," and the like. Their 
 
 fehenna, which though large was not a veiy hot one, 
 ecause of their uniform kind-heartedness, was filled 
 with that vast horde of unfortunates whom fate had 
 denied the blessedness of being brokers; these and 
 bad members were refused admission to the heavenly 
 hall. 
 
 It was an exceedingly nerve-splitting occupation. 
 The hours of business were few, but the clatter and 
 
THE STOCK BOARD. 
 
 337 
 
 bang of hammered iron and human voices raised to 
 a pitch of wild phrensy made the excitement fear- 
 fully wearing. The calling of a stock was sometimes 
 as the flinging of a carcass to a mixed pack of raven- 
 ous hyenas, wolves, or other bloody or bellowing 
 beasts. Then it behooved them to be quick; for 
 often an instant of time was thousands of dollars for 
 and against certain interested ones. The fashion of 
 their buying and selling was no less senseless than it 
 was infernal ; but such a thing as questioning the 
 manner of their calling never occurred to them. On 
 the contrary it was their pride, their glory. 
 
 •' One of the wealthiest stock-brokers of San Fran- 
 cisco to day," writes one, " formerly peddled potatoes 
 along the same streets where he can now count his own 
 buildings by the dozen. Another well-known resi- 
 dent, then a lawyer, now a judge in one of the courts, 
 worked for several weeks as cook in a restaurant. 
 Overhearing one of the patrons of the place complain 
 that he could not find a lawyer to take up a case he 
 had in court, he proffered his services, took off liis 
 apron and went before the court, won the case, 
 charged a fee of $200, and was retained for two other 
 cases before leaving the court-room. A certain col- 
 lege professor who went out from New York in '4'9, 
 while working with a shovel on the public streets, 
 overheard a Frenchman trying to arrange some busi- 
 ness with a wealthy real-estate dealer. Neither of 
 them could understand the other. The professor 
 leaned upon his shovel and explained the meaning of 
 the Frenchman. The matter was arranged in a 
 moment. * Drop that shovel and take off your over- 
 halls. You 're just the man I want,' bluffly said the 
 real-estate man; and the next morning the professor 
 commenced his career as business interpreter at 
 twenty dollars a day." 
 
 Once in a while a staid old merchant from Boston 
 or New York, braved the dangers and disgusts of the 
 voyage, to look after some consignment or other busi- 
 
 Cal, Int. Poc. 22 
 
BUSINESS. 
 
 ness, when he would be struck dumb with astonish- 
 ment at the reckk'ss whirlpool of business that sur- 
 rounded him. He would see the shop-keeper sweep 
 with his arm into a bag silver coin stacked upon his 
 counter in payment for goods, as not worth the count- 
 ing ; he would see screaming auctioneers crying off 
 goods to whittling, tobacco-juice-spirthig bidders, 
 who between jokes would buy whole cargoes, ship 
 and all with terrible sany: froid. 
 
 Thus the city-builders carried their work forward 
 in wild irregular spasms but ever onward, unceasingly 
 unhesitatingly. Often the arrival of a vessel, the 
 completion of a wharf, or some such excuse would 
 double the price of property within a few days. 
 
 Again and again one wonders how it is that so 
 many of the shrewd and enterprising so soon became 
 bankrupt. With such foresight, such practical com- 
 mon sense, uniting energy, and golden opportunities, 
 all as it would seem wisely applied and earnestly em- 
 braced, it was pitiful to see them later, all there were 
 left of them, or well-nigh all, wandering the streets 
 that they had made, by houses they had built but 
 now no longer theirs, moving silently and sadly ovor 
 long-familiar ground, yet amidst scenes strange to 
 them though fruits of their own untiring energy — 
 wandering thus alone unrecognized skeletons of their 
 former selves, while a new generation of millionaires 
 flaunted its wealth in their faces. It was sad to sic 
 their wrecked hopes reconstructed by men of lessir 
 worth, whose proud argosies bore heavily upon tlu ir 
 slender craft ; to see tlie connnerce of a great metropo- 
 lis, once their own, ruled by upstart speculators; tn 
 see their sand-hill home, with its acres of garden ami 
 barn-yard, become thick with magnificent mansioii>. 
 wJKfse lords were lucky gamblers, whose parvenu mis- 
 tresses flouted and overshadowed their humble wives, 
 while they themselves plodded quietly through thiii 
 declining years, happy indeed if wife, and children, 
 and food, and shelter, might be left to them. 
 
STRIKES; (iOLD DUST TRADE. 
 
 8Se 
 
 Strikes among mechanics began early in California. 
 In July 1853 the carpenters of San Francisco com- 
 plained among themselves of the irregularity of prices 
 for day's work, the rate ruling from t< n dollars down 
 to next to nothing. No one knew what to charge ; 
 each was fearful of asking too much or not enough, 
 und so they fixed wages at eight dollars a day, some- 
 wliat above the average of what they had been get- 
 iing. On the 18th, those determined to hold out and 
 not work except for the wages named, to the number 
 (»f about 400, held a meeting on the plaza, and after- 
 ward formed a procession and marched through the 
 town with banners streaming and nmslc playing. Had 
 wai];> ■- been double, it is likely they would have been 
 just as dissatisfied. Laborer's strikes are a melan- 
 ♦ lioly commentary upon the intelligence of working 
 uit-n, who fail utterly to see that wages are regulated 
 I'V the inevitable law of supply and demand, and that 
 any attempt to forestall this law reacts upon them- 
 selves. 
 
 The 'longshoremen determined to have six dollars 
 for niiu' hours work, instead of five dollars for ten 
 lioura, l^orambulating the wharves to the number of 
 ul)out 300, they forced all who were at work to join 
 tht'in, using threats and violence when entreaty failed. 
 Tho wliarves for the time were almost deserted ; but 
 lu'xt dav the stevedores havinjj acceded to their de- 
 iiiands, the men went to work, happy in the thought 
 of another dollar a day to spend and another hour to 
 spend it in. At the same time the calkers and ship- 
 carpenters demanded and received ten dollars a day. 
 The firemen and coal passers then struck, the former 
 demanding $100 a month, and the latter %7b. The 
 masons of Sacramento also demamled the same wages 
 received by their fellow-craftsmen of the bay, which 
 Nvas ten dollars a day. The hod-carriers of Stockton, 
 ill place of five dollars a day, struck for six dollars, 
 hi San Francisco the system worked so well, that the 
 masons whose wages had just been raised to ten dol- 
 
m 
 
 BUSINESS 
 
 lars, on the I7th of August, paraded the streets in a 
 body, and refused to work for less than twelve dollars 
 a day. 
 
 During the first five years subsequent to the dis- 
 covery of gold, the gold-dust trade underwent many 
 changes. Prior to 1849 the ruling price at San Fran- 
 cisco was fourteen dollars an ounce, and in the mines 
 much less. It was once sold at auction for twelve 
 dollars. Afterward the rate was fixed and maintained 
 at sixteen dollars an ounce. Due attention was not 
 paid by merchants to the quality or cleanliness of the 
 dust, and many miners were not careful to remove all 
 the black sand. The scales used were also not always 
 the nicest, nor the weights most correct. The gold 
 from central California was mostly vii^in gold; 
 but that which was later thrown upon the market 
 from the mines of Mariposa, Kern river and Fresno. 
 was of inferior quality. This gave rise to a system 
 of adulteration, which could not be easily detected by 
 purchasers. In time assay offices were established t< > 
 reduce the mass of the precious dust to a determined 
 value before shipment ; this, together with the stimu- 
 lating traffic by large competing banking-houses, ad- 
 vanced the price of clean dust first to $17, and after- 
 wards to $17 50 an ounce, this being the avera*jft'. 
 The proceeds of some mines were, however, sold as 
 low as $14, and those of others as high as $20. The 
 gold-dust trade finally fell into the hands of four large 
 houses, which a little later shipped only bars witli the 
 true value stamped on them. 
 
 In April. 1851, bankers agreed to receive on deposit 
 no California coin other than that issued by Moffat 
 and Company, who were the only ones faithful in their 
 valuation, and had, moreover, made provision to re- 
 deem the coin issued. Until the establishment of th(i 
 mint at San Francisco, merchants suffered because of 
 the exclusion of California coin from circulation. Tliey 
 could not refuse to receive it without injury to their 
 
COINS AND COINAGE. 
 
 341 
 
 trade, and generally had much of it on their hands. 
 Some foreign coins began to circulate at the value put 
 upon them by the United States government. At 
 last, to obviate difficulties, the legislature passed a law 
 making it a criminal offence, punishable by fine and 
 Imprisonment, for coiners to neglect stamping upon 
 their coin its true value, or failing to redeem it from 
 the holders thereof on demand. 
 
 In October 1852 news came that the federal gov- 
 ernment had ordered that the fifty-dollar slugs or in- 
 gots should not be received for duties at the custom 
 liouse. This was a serious blow, at a time when coin 
 was very scarce. Legal coins at once advanced cwo 
 ])er cent. Though that order was coupled with a 
 liromise to establish immediately a mint, the people 
 were not satisfied. 
 
 The hank failures of 1854 and the political corrup- 
 tion of 1855, hastened a commercial crisis which had 
 heeii brewuig for a year or two y)reviou8. The mone- 
 tary cataclysm of 1848-52, was followed by a reaction 
 resulting from various causes combined, to-wit: in- 
 < reuse of a non-productive population, greater labor to 
 (X tract gold from the earth, high-pressure life and 
 ifckless extravagance, a .succession o}' disastrous floods 
 unci fires, and over-trading. Hundreds of merchants 
 tailt (1 and involved hundreds of others in tlieir fall. 
 Many failed as many as three times and started anew, 
 I'tliirs took subordinate positions ordi-ank themselves 
 t»i death. Not one in ten of the San Francisco mer- 
 (liants of 1841), was doing business in 1855. Fifteen 
 hundred lu^althy men, of every intellectual calibre, 
 tnund themselves without occuj)ation •)r means of live- 
 liliood. California's credit was now at a low ebb 
 iiliioad. The population did not then increase at all. 
 lltal estate was so low that there was scarcely any 
 Hild. Since the fire of 1851, San Francisco saw no 
 j^ldomier day than that foHowing the suspension of 
 Pa,u;e, Bacon, and Company, announced on the 2 2d of 
 February, 1855, 
 
 i! 
 
aia 
 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 The San Francisco branch mint, in 1857, was robbed 
 of ten or fifteen thousand dollars by the coiner's head 
 cutter, William Bein, a Belgian. Bein was arrested 
 the 19th of August, confessed the crime, and gave up 
 to the United States most of the proceeds of his crime. 
 The gold taken was in blanks and clippings, and the 
 circumstance which aroused suspicion was the deposit, 
 by a banking house, of certain small, rough, gold bars 
 of standard mint value. Bein was promptly convicted. 
 Others implicated in mint swindles were arrested 
 shortly after. Isador and Henry Blum were brought 
 up on a charge of conspiracy against T. A. Szabo, in 
 attempting to extort money from him, believing him 
 a mint-defaulter and in their power. Augustin Har- 
 aszthy, melter and refiner of the San Francisco 
 branch mint, on the 19th of September, was indicted 
 by the United States grand jury upon a charge <it' 
 embezzling gold to tlie amount of $15 1,550. He was 
 arrested and released on $20,000 bail. Afterward h< 
 was tried and sentenced to six years in the stat( 
 prison an<l to i)ay a fine of $2,000. 
 
 Californians early determined that as mind aii<l 
 manners were here free, money should be free also. 
 Dante could have found in California a better answ ei 
 to the question why usury offends divine goodness, 
 than the silly one Virgil gave him. It was in the 
 realms below that the two were sagely discoursiiiu, 
 and the sage and master answered that in (:Jenesis it 
 is written that man is to work and multiply, and that 
 the usurer thwarts nature by taking money without 
 working for it. Good reasoning tJuit may be in hadt>s. 
 but itsounds sillyin California, Our first answer is tliat 
 usury does not offend God; our second tiiat nionev 
 like any other commodity is regulated in its price hy 
 the innnutable law of supply and demand, and is 
 worth what it will bring in tlie market. If a person 
 finds it profitable to borrow money at ten per cent a 
 month, why should he not be permitted to do it ? 
 If he can get it for less lie will not pay that ; if h' 
 
INTEREST AND USURY LAWS. 
 
 S43 
 
 cannot make it profitable at that rate he will not 
 borrow it. No greater absurdity stands upon the 
 statute books of civilized nations than laws compell- 
 ing men to loan their money for less than it is worth. 
 Tliey might as well pass laws compellhig merchants 
 to sell their wares for less than their value. 
 
 On the statute-books of all enlightened countries, 
 from the days of Shylock to the present time, the 
 usury law has been obsolete, and the idea of foisting 
 Kuch a piece of antiquated nonsense upon the people 
 of California was not to be thought of. They wanted 
 no laws regulating the price of the use of money, 
 they said, any more than laws regulating the price of 
 flour or city lots. Men are supposed to know their 
 own business best; one, what he can afford to pay 
 for the use of money, and another what rate of inter- 
 est he can afford to loan it at. There is no more 
 reason for a legislature to pass laws regulating the 
 interest of money, than that it sliould frame sumi)tu- 
 ary laws which we all admit would be a step back- 
 ward. At that time particularly, the chief staple of 
 California was the metal of which money was made, 
 and lier business men of all others should know that 
 this as well as any other product is liable to fluctua- 
 tions according to the supply and demand. 
 
 If the mercliant, manufacturer, or miner, can attbrd 
 to pay high wages and high interest, it shows that 
 the country is so prosperous and his enterprise so 
 ]»r()fit{ible that he is justified in paying high for capi- 
 tal and labor. In times of panic or stringency aris- 
 ing from overtrading or extravagance the case is 
 iMHerent; but it is not against such contingencies 
 that a usury law aims to provide. The objc^ct is to 
 invade a man's jirivate afl'airs when lamez fairc is 
 Ix'tter. Besides, admitting the existence of an evil, 
 usury laws instead of curing it only aggravafr it. In 
 till' place of securing the lender a return of his money 
 with tl)e interest agreed on by law, it only forces him 
 to resort to fraud in loaning his money, and by weak- 
 
 m 
 
344 
 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 ening his security to throw a heavier burden upon 
 the borrower. Almost all laws made to protect bor- 
 rowers of money react on the borrower, the lender 
 having the advantage. The suspension of several 
 banks threw the wheels of finance generally off the 
 track. Confidence in other banking houses was im- 
 paired ; the solvency of merchants was suspected. No 
 man felt that his ducats were safe unless he had 
 them in his own possession. 
 
 Likewise the effect upon the people of the suspen- 
 sion of the two great express companies was much 
 greater than that of all the banks combined. There 
 was not a town of any consequonc<^ in the interior or on 
 the coast from San Diogo to Puget Sound, where 
 one, or most generally both of these companies did 
 not have oflUces. There thousands of miners and labor- 
 ers liad deposited their little all, preparatory to remit- 
 ting to their friends at the east; they had there laid 
 by a little for a rainy day, a nest egg, passage-money 
 lionie, in fact their all, the result of years of hard 
 labor— thousands, I say, throughout the length and 
 breadth of the land, saw their money and their hopes 
 thus suddenly cast away. 
 
 And if credits during the flush times were freely 
 givtiu, us u rule debts were prom[)tly paid. Business 
 was done u[)on honor. There was no law ; away 
 from the larger towns there were no [)reteusions in 
 the way of tribunals for the collection of debts. 
 Had there been such they would have received little 
 f>atronage. If the debtor was ill and unable to work, 
 why molest him ? Poverty, there was none. When 
 every rivulet and ravine yielded large nturns to tlu; 
 application of pick and paji, he who was able to wield 
 these implemcmts could not be called poor. If the 
 di'btor was a rascal, and would not pay when he 
 could, a knife would cut the difficulty, or a pistol-ball 
 reach the wrong quicker than the law. 
 
 In the first flush of business upon the new Ameri 
 can high -pressure priiicii)le, after gold had been dia- 
 
 1 1 
 
BUYING AND SELUN6. 
 
 345 
 
 covered but before sufficient time had elapsed for 
 cargoes to arrive from a distance, when money was 
 l)lenty and prices had advanced in some instances a 
 thousand per cent, the trick was to get goods, not to 
 sell them. The two chief rival firms were Charles L. 
 lioss, and Howard & Melius, each of which kept a 
 w til-manned boat ready on the instant to shoot out to- 
 ward the Golden Gate, on the approach of any mer- 
 rliant vessel, so as to forestall competitors in securing 
 stock. To this end a sharp lookout was kept, as we 
 may easily imagine, and every means adopted at once 
 to catch the first view of the incoming vessels and 
 Mind the eyes of the others to the welcome sight. It 
 luippeiied one opaque, niisty morning that the fog 
 lifted for a moment only, just long enough for Ross' 
 sentinel to see loominj; seaward a maijnificont britr 
 wiiose white sails in the vision seemed to fill the whole 
 o(<'aii. Ross and his crew were soon afloat, pulling 
 liard in that direction. So was the rival lioat, for 
 the watchers had been watched, and such movements 
 were well understood. The advantage, however, was 
 witli Koss, who beside havhig the start, knew where 
 the vessel lay; and by pulling stoutly out of course 
 and tlien escaping them in the fog, he threw his com- 
 IK'titors off the scent, found tlie brig, crawled up the 
 sides to the deck, and as coolly as possible after the 
 fancy of Yankee traders, salutt^d the captain and 
 opened negotiations. "What ye got?" demanded 
 b'oss. "Waal," the captain began, "there's some 
 wooji'n shirts, a hundred and fifty or two hundred 
 
 dozen ' "Stop a moment,' Cxclainied Ross who 
 
 I'laiidy heard the sound of oars approaching every 
 moment nearer, "wliat'll you take for everything on 
 Itnard?" " Oh, I guess you are joking," simpered the 
 skipper. "N«>, I am not joking," said Ross, drawing 
 iiom his pocket a handful of yellow goUl. "What 
 advance on your invoices will you take for all the 
 merchandise in your ship?" The skipper |K>ndered, 
 nut faiUng to notice the rapidly increasuig noise of 
 
 i 
 
 1 1 
 
846 
 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 oars, this sharp-witted Boston captain; he pondered 
 as he eyed the New York man thus met on this 
 western aide. It was a long proceeding, carefully se- 
 lecting and laying in this cargo, in which twenty or 
 more shippers were interested, and guiding it safely 
 through divers-tempered winds, over 16,000 miles of 
 ocean, to this very far-away port — it was a long pro- 
 ceeding to be disposed of summarily, for three months 
 would have been a short time ordinarily in which to 
 have sold the cargo. Three months ; and fifty per 
 cent, would have been regarded as a good round 
 profit. " Come, captain, if you want to trade, and I 
 take it that is what you are here for," said Ross, now 
 growing a little nervous, " how much advance, and 
 the money down?" The skipper looked him steadily 
 in the eye, glanced significantly at Howard who was 
 climbing up the side of the vessel, and answered slow- 
 ly, *'one hundred per cent." "I'll take it,' Ross 
 said. "This will bind the bargain," he added, as hv 
 passed over the handful of money. *' And I'll make 
 those woollen shirts pay for all the damned truck 
 here," said the purchaser, as he regahied his boat, 
 swearing thus mildly not through lack of feeling, but 
 because he was in training for a position as teacher in 
 Wheeler's forth-coming Sabbath-school. 
 
 And the gentle Brannan, Sam; he learned to flaunt 
 the Mormon's money bravely at the auctions. Sum 
 delighted in auctions. Never was he so happy as 
 when perched on a high box smoking a long cheroot, 
 and sinking the small blade of his sharp knife into 
 the soft pine. Gillespie was then at the head of tlu; 
 Cliina trade, and the disposal of cargoes by aucti<»n 
 was daily gaining favor. It saved so nmch trouble 
 in the way of handling, and warehousing, and charg- 
 ing, and collecting, and prices were often better thai: 
 when jobbed out. One day, pursuant to notice, Gil- 
 lespie put up a cargo of tea to sell. At the hour, 
 there upon his box sat Sam, smoking, and spitting, 
 and wliittling, thinking perhaps of the extravagant 
 
MANNERS AND METHODS, 
 
 347 
 
 price of wives in the market, and how much it would 
 cost to people Zion at current rates ; thinking of the 
 temple to the living God which he was to rear in the 
 wilderness; thinking of anything except lucre, and 
 tlie price of tea. " Ten chests with the privilege," 
 began Gillespie. " I will sell not less than ten chests, 
 the purchaser to have the privilege of taking as much 
 more at the price sold as he pleases." Around the 
 open boxes merchants were blowing and crushing, 
 and smelling and tasting; Sam sat serene. "And 
 how nmch am I offered ? " Gillespie went on. " Thirty- 
 five cents, thirty-five ; forty ; and five ; fifty ; fifty-five 
 cents I am offered ; sixty. Are you all done gentle- 
 men? Sixty cents, going; sixty cents, once; sixty 
 cents, twice ; third and last time — " " Sixty-one 1 " 
 came from the top of the box. " Sixty-one, sixty-one 
 cents, and sold. How nmch will you take Mr Bran- 
 uan?" Now there was tea enough in that ship to 
 give every grocer in town a good stock, and the bid- 
 ders present had all so reckoned, and had deemed it 
 tolly running it up to a high price when they could 
 just as well buy it low. The tea was then worth in 
 the market one dollar and a quarter, or two dollars 
 and a half, or five dollars, according as it was held and 
 controlled. Brannan was the heaviest buyer there; 
 he miorht take fiftv chests out of the five hundred. 
 So they reasoned, and were content that Sam, tlie 
 ravenous, should first satisfy himself Imagine, there- 
 fore their chagrin as in answer to the auctioneer's 
 (juostion, '* How much will you take Mr Brannan," 
 they heard come from the top of tlie box, where the 
 eyes were still bent on the continued wliittling, in 
 notes like the snarl of a coyote, "Tlie whole damned 
 concern." 
 
 The prices of provisions were exceedingly unsteady, 
 and those accustotned earlv in the morninij to enter 
 the markets with their baskets on their arms, for few 
 delivered what they sold in those days, soon learned 
 not to be surprised at anything in the way of prices. 
 
 I'i 'i. ^ 
 
 VM 
 
 >:4 
 
348 
 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 ■1^ i 
 
 ! 
 
 One day George Eggleston stood behind a box of 
 fine fresh eggs talking with Bob Parker from whom 
 he rented his stand when a customer came up. 
 "How much are eggs?" "Six dollars." "What, a 
 box ? " " No, a dozen." " Give me a dozen." Some- 
 thing in the little trade struck Parker, who delighted 
 in waggery, as a little ludicrous ; probably it was the 
 indifference with which the customer bought eggs, 
 paying as cheerfully six dollars a dozen as six dollars 
 a box. And the plot of a little joke instantly arose 
 in his mind. "George," said he, when the customer 
 had gone, " you will never make anything in this 
 business if you don't keep better posted in prices." 
 " How so ?" demanded Eggleston. " Why, here you 
 are sellinjj egijs at six dollars a dozen, when the regu- 
 lar price everywhere is eighteen dollars," responded 
 Parker. " But I know where I can get all I want at 
 throe dollars," said Eggleston. " That's it," replied 
 Parker. " Yt)U haven't the business sense that tells 
 a man liow to make avail of his opportunities." 
 Parker tlien turned to speak t « a friend ; but one ear 
 was open to Eggleston's doings as a dai)per little man 
 of family stepped briskly up and oegan negotiations 
 "Hello, George, those are nice eggs; how do ye 
 sell 'oni." "Well," replied Eggleston, somewhat 
 slowly and denmrely, "eggs are a little up this morn- 
 ing; those arc eighteen dollars a dozen." "All right, " 
 said tlie little man, " I'll take two dozen." And he 
 laid down the thirty-six dollars far less grudgingly 
 than the average Boston man would have given 
 thirty-six cents for an equal quantity of the same 
 commodity. 
 
 Potatoes were scarce and high at San Francisco 
 during the winter of 1848-9, and as there had been 
 scurvy in the mines they were specially desired. 
 The Hawaiian Islands crop had been bought and 
 eaten, and the ground had been hoed over a second 
 time for what had been left the first ; for prior to this 
 last operation there was not a potato for sale in the 
 
PRICES CURRENT. 
 
 349 
 
 town. The day after the cleaning-up ship had come 
 in from the Islands, some small watery specimens of 
 the root were exhibited in the market, and on the 
 doorpost of one of the hotels was tacked a shingle 
 on which was (Chalked "potatoes for dinner to-day." 
 And early that morning the thrifty burghers of the 
 place were out with their baskets, smilingly asking 
 the market man "How do you sell potatoes?" "A 
 dollar and a half," the rieply would come. "Give me 
 a bushel." "A bushel I They are a dollar and a 
 half a pound." "Oh I ahl I will take two pounds." 
 
 California gold largely increased the importation of 
 silks, velvets, laces, jewelry, and other articles of 
 luxury. It stimulated the building of houses, and 
 carriages, the breeding of horses, but not the rearing 
 of children ; it increased the number of theatres, 
 balls, parties, and concerts four fold, and advanced 
 real estate values, and the prices of all commodities. 
 
 One day a man having 1,500 dozen eggs for sale, 
 brought in by a coasting schooner, hailed a street mer- 
 chandise-broker, of whom there were hundreds in 
 those days, and insisted on his buying them, which 
 the broker finally did, at 37^ cents a dozen. Right 
 away the buyer began to sell at $4 50 a dozen, when 
 the first seller exclaimed " What a fool I have been 1 " 
 and securing the remainder at the last mentioned 
 price, took them to Sacramento and sold them at 
 $6 a dozen. 
 
 When tobacco was down, a man desirous of build- 
 ing a house on made ground tumbled in boxes of it, 
 enough to form a foundation. Before the house was 
 built tobacco was worth $1 a pound, more than a 
 dozen such houses. Wanting a cn)S8 walk one threw 
 in sacks of beans, which shortly after were worth 
 thirty cents a pound. 
 
 At the restaurants of the period. Skinner's chop 
 house on Second street, Sacramento, for example, 
 were heard all the old cries of the cheap eating- 
 houses of Fulton, Ann, and Nassau streets. New 
 
VJf 
 
 ip 
 
 i! 
 
 niji 
 
 880 
 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 York. Blustering waiters in greasy clothes switch- 
 ing filthy towels about the noses of their guests, 
 bawl their orders from morning till night and from 
 night till almost morning, in the honorable effort to 
 fill the stomachs of the great unwashed. Loud of voice 
 and with faces red they cry, through the hole which 
 opens into the fizzing, smoking kitchen, "Hurry up 
 them cakes 1 "" Plate of fish-balls quick 1" "One 
 rare steak ; one hasli ; plate o' fried tripe, with one 
 onion, done brown!" "Come, why don't yer hurry 
 up them cakes ; don't be all day 1 " Thus they con- 
 tinue, through the busy hours of meal time amidst 
 clatter of dishes, and now and then a crash resulthig 
 from a collisi(m of the carriers, varying their stern 
 calls with benign and soothing words to the afflicted 
 customers: " One moment, sir." '• I'll attend to your 
 case, sir." " Now then, sir ; we have as you perceive 
 by the bill of fare everything you can wish, sir." A 
 miner mumbles forth his order, and the next moment 
 is almost lifted from his seat by the shout : " Cakes, 
 sausage, tripe, fish-balls, liver, and tea for one, quick 1 * 
 
 Long Wharf, by which name the lower end of Com- 
 mercial street in San Francisco was known in the early 
 years, was tlie rendezvous for thieves and thimble- 
 riggers as well as for all sorts of peddlers, criers and 
 "givers away" of merchandise. There Cheap John 
 flourished in all his glory, and no matter how hard the 
 times, drove, what appeared on the surface, a lively 
 business. 
 
 •' That feller in thar talks as ef he had his tongue 
 iled ;" remarked an attentive observer, a tall, raw-boned, 
 liatchet-faced individual, one evening. 
 
 "Talking of iles," immediately broke forth the 
 facetious auctioneer who overheard the remark, "I have 
 somethinof here which I ravther think will kinder take 
 you," at the same time holding up as many bottles of 
 hair oil, brushes, and pieces of soap as both hands 
 could contain. 
 
 " Here's a lot of goods, gentlemen, worth in a reg- 
 
CHEAP JOHN AUCTIONS. 
 
 S.'Sl 
 
 ular way five dollars." The crowd smiled audibly. 
 •*Now, I don't want as much as that," continued 
 Cheap John. *' Times is too hard, and if you won't 
 liave 'em for something you may take 'em for nothing. 
 I'll put 'em all at four-an'-a-'a'f. Who'll givenic four? 
 Take 'em along for three, gentlemen, you know times 
 is hard and these goods must he cleaned out of here. 
 There tliey are for two-an'-a-'a'f. Who says two? 
 Down they go at one, and to show you that times is 
 hard and that these goods must be sold, there they 
 lire for fifty cents, and I'll never ask a cent more nor 
 cake a cent less." 
 
 " Well, mister," drawled out the sharp-visaged ob- 
 server, who by this time had worked his way up to 
 the counter, "times is hard, very hard I may say, an' 
 t f you'll jest throw in that 'ar coat an' pants, an' that 
 'ar vest, an' fiddle what's hangin' up thar agin the 
 wall, why dang my buttons ef I don't paternize yer 
 fifty cents worth." 
 
 Sickness was an expensive pastime in those days, 
 and to indulge in some diseases was much more ct)stly 
 than in others. The fee-bill of the San Francisco 
 iiit'dical society, organized June 22d, 1850, gives 
 tlie prices for various visits and operations rang- 
 ing from $16 — one * ounce,' — the lowest, to $1 ,000. A 
 single visit was $32 ; a visit in regular attendance 
 $32; for every hour detained $32 additional; advice 
 $50 to $100; night visits as consulting physicians 
 8100; for various specified operations from $500 to 
 $1,000. 
 
 Doctors flourished, and as a class were no more 
 scrupulous than ministers or minors. At Yeates' 
 raiicho, in 1 841), a man died. He had two yoke of 
 cattle and a large quantity of provisions in hia wagon. 
 Df Sparks took care of him, and when he died claimed 
 the rattle and wagon for the doctor's bill. Dr Sparks 
 was soon taken sick and Dr Clinton took care of him. 
 Sparks died and Clinton took cattle, wagon, pro- 
 visions and all the property Sparks had, for his bill. 
 
 i i 
 
 < <9 
 
 
M BUSINESS. 
 
 A wag published in the Herald of June 6, 1851, a 
 caricature model business-letter of the day, from a 
 California correspondent of an eastern shipper. The 
 receipt of several hundred ship-loads of goods is 
 acknowledged, most of which were sold at half their 
 cost, and the remainder of the invoices were closed by 
 the regular fire of the 4th ult. "Some two hundred 
 of your vessels," continues the letter, "have cleared 
 for China and the Elast Indies; the balance, Hay five 
 hundred, remain in port from our hiability to negotiate 
 further drafts on you. Most of them are less liable to 
 sink, as they now lie on the sand flats, than they 
 would be if sent to sea, and we would advise their re- 
 maining as they are some forty or fifty years. We 
 would advise the immediate shipment of some five 
 hundred assorted cai^oes as the supply in the market 
 is not more than sufficient for fifteen months. Any 
 article quoted at high prices, the consumption of 
 which is limited, should be shipped in large quanti 
 ties, in order to compete with the host of other ship- 
 pers. In shipping dutiable goods, you need never 
 provide for the payment of the duties, as we are at all 
 times prepared to advance the amount required at ten 
 per cent, per month interest ; or, if you prefer it, have 
 the goods stored in the celebrated U. S. fire-proof 
 bonded warehouses, at the trifling expense of seven 
 dollars per ton the first month, and three dollars each 
 succeeding month. An anniversary fire is confidently 
 expected on the 14tli inst., when we hope to close 
 most of our consignments." 
 
 Looking at the fleet of vessels at anchor in the 
 harbor, one wondered how it was possible for three 
 hundred thousand men to consume the cargoes of 
 them all. But these three hundred thousand weru 
 equivalent to a million of mingled young and old, 
 women, children, and men. Cities were to be built, 
 farmes stocked, and mines developed, and all this re- 
 quired immense supplies and material. Little or 
 uothing was then produced ; even lumber for building, 
 
TRAITS AND CHARACTERISTICS 
 
 3S3 
 
 and vegetables and grain, were shipped from distant 
 
 ports. 
 
 The captain of a vessel landing from a small boat, 
 throw his valise upon the shore, and calling out to a 
 ship's porter, "Carry that valise up to the hotel, my 
 l>oy," pitched him a half dollar. Drawing back from 
 the com, which he had permitted to fall upon the 
 ground, with an air of magnificent disgust. Jack drew 
 from his pocket two half dollars, and throwing them 
 over toward the captain, exclaimed as he turned upon 
 liis heel, "carry it up yourself" 
 
 Some long-headed, leathery-brained Boston Yankee 
 i?ent out shot. He had more shot than he could sell 
 av. home, and he had been told that there was consid- 
 eiable shooting among the miners; so he threw into 
 a shipment a large consignment of shot. "Who 
 wants shot in California I " exclaimed the consignee. 
 
 " Nobody," replied a broker. 
 
 " What'll ye give for *em ? " 
 
 " Don't want 'em." 
 
 "Didn't ask if you wanted them. I asked what 
 you would give for them." 
 
 " Oh I ten or twenty cents a bag." 
 
 " Thoy are yours at twenty cents." 
 
 The buyer then rubbed up his wits, and presently 
 sold them at $4, to be run into revolver bullets. Then 
 lie bought a lot of tacks at ten cents a paper; for 
 "wliat do people want of tacks who have no carpets?" 
 ho liad asked. But when they began to tack up can- 
 vass houses, all those tacks went off lively at $2 a 
 pajHT. 
 
 Of the firm of Priest, Lee and Company, at Sutter's 
 Fort, was Christopher Taylor, who went from Oregon 
 to San Francisco in 1848, on the brig Henry, which 
 carried down produce, lumber, provisions, and passen- 
 gers. In company with several Oregonians he pro- 
 ceeded up the Sacramento in the little vessel of Sutter 
 and Hastings, arriving at Sutter's fort in September. 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc 23 
 

 3S4 
 
 BUSIXESS. 
 
 I : mi 
 
 ' I 
 
 There they hired a team to take them to Coloma, at 
 which place they encamped. He whom Mr Taylor 
 calls his partner went over to the middle branch, 
 where he met friends whom he joined, and was soon 
 maiiing one or two hundred dollars a day. Being 
 thus left alone, Taylor returned to the fort, arriving 
 the 25th of September, and having in his pocket about 
 twenty-five dollars. While considering in just what 
 way he would make his fortune, his money being 
 pretty well spent, he was accosted by his old friend 
 Barton Lee. "Chris, what are you going to do?" 
 "Well," said Taylor, "I think I shall go into business 
 here." "You are just the man I want," returned 
 Lee. "Come and dine with me." 
 
 Now neither of these individuals had capital suffi- 
 cient to pay a week's board; yet each thought the 
 other possessed of abundance. Both, however, wore 
 enliijhtened before dinner was over. Lee had a littlo 
 the advantage, as he had begun a large business by 
 renting a room in the fort for a store, though he had 
 nothing to put in it. For this he had promised to 
 pay a rental of $100 a month; the first month's rout 
 was still due. These interesting facts came out 
 gradually between courses, as they might be told 
 without affecting digestion. 
 
 " What do you think of it ?" asked Lee after dinner. 
 " I think I shall go into business," paid Taylor. ' * Whore 
 is the stock to come from?" inquired Lee. "Do yf)U 
 know any one at San Francisco?" "No one," re- 
 sponded Taylor. "But we can get goods enougli; 
 we will buy them." There were at this tiujo con- 
 stantly arriving from the bay small slooi)s, laden with 
 such goods as the miners required. Assuming the 
 attitude of senior partner, although Lee had tlie room 
 rented before him, Taylor said, "While I sweep out 
 the store, you go down to the embarcadero and buy 
 out the first vessel that arrives; buy ever^'thing on 
 board." " But where will I gc^t money with whioli to 
 pay for it all?" Lee wanted to know. "Leave tliut 
 
ifEANS AND MEAWRES. 
 
 Mr 
 
 to me," replied Taylor. Lee did as he had been di- 
 rected, and returned reporting the purchase of a cargo. 
 "What does it consist of?" demanded Taylor. "Ore- 
 gon bacon, flour, and boots and slioes," was the reply. 
 "Exactly what we want," said Taylor. "About tlio 
 ]»av — what arranixemcnt did vou make ? " " Not anv." 
 "Well, in the morning say to him that his money is 
 ready, and he shall have it as soon as the goods aio 
 landed." "That is all very well," said Lee, "but I 
 would like to know what kind of a scrape I am gettiuk; 
 into." "Docs the captain drink?" "He soaks in it 
 all the time." "All right; see that plenty of whisikcy 
 i^ always at hand; as fast as the cargo is dischar«ivHl, 
 send it to me, but do not lot him tjike it out too raj)- 
 idly; tell him our team is worked hard, and that we 
 are so crowded we cannot st«nv it away faster." 
 
 All went on smoothly at the embarcadero. The 
 master of the vessel thouixht Loc one of the best men 
 he had ever met, exceedingly honest and trutliful. 
 Tavlor handled himself livelv about the store. Ha 
 made trade brisk. Some of tliose in the crowd that 
 '.vas coming and going he knew; they and otheis 
 wanted supplies. The goods as they arrived were not 
 put into tlio store, but were piled up outside, thus 
 making a grand display. Such largo merchants nmst 
 surely have largo means, and good credit. The result 
 of it all was the merchandise was sold as fast as de- 
 livered, and when the captain camo for }iis money, the 
 jt.trtners had enough to pay f r the cargo, vessel, and 
 all. 
 
 It happened one day wirh Mr Palmer, in settling 
 oil-hand some accounts with a business acquaintance 
 involving heavy transactions, that he stood near a pile 
 of lumber. There was due the man from i'ahner 
 8-r),000, for which Palmer gave a check on Palmer, 
 C()(»k,and Company, writing it with chalk on a shingle, 
 which was presented and promptly paid. 
 
 The diggers alone produced the gold ; a,s for the 
 rest, all preyed on them and on each other. Even 
 
 
 ^1l 
 
il-li 
 
 i ' Jl 
 
 It 
 
 "m 
 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 the packers and traders were often hard pushed to 
 make both ends meet, as when Shnonton sold his 
 mangy dog for $50, taking in pay two worthless pups 
 at $25 each. 
 
 In the summer of 1851, business was decidedly 
 dull. Everybody comi)lained. Many returned home. 
 Miners had touched bottom ; for agricultural products 
 there would be no demand, and the country was miw 
 a good one to leave. Auctioneers continued to ham- 
 mer off goods at rates which, after paying freight, 
 cartage, storage, and conunissions, if the shipper was 
 not brought in debt himself, he might deem himself 
 fortunate. How like a golden dream the old time 
 came over them — ^the brisk trade, and three and five 
 hundred per cent profits of '49 and '50 1 Alas, but 
 for the fires they might now be at home enjoying the 
 fruits of their enterprise, instead of being obliged, for 
 the third or fourth time, to try it just once more. 
 
 None felt the dull times which seemed to settle on 
 San Francisco in earnest first toward the spring of 
 1852 more than the sporting fraternity. Many 
 gambling-houses did not make enough to pay the 
 nmsic, and gamblers did not refuse to ])lay lor as 
 small a sum as a quarter of a dollar. Fifty-dollar 
 slugs were as common on the dealer's table four 
 months previous as silver dollars were now. The 
 absence of rain about the 1st of March made business 
 men and miners blue. People were just beginning 
 to realize the full effect of the absence of rain upon 
 the interests of the country, and no one had the heart 
 even to gamble. Grand raffles were then started to 
 stimulate the flagging spirits of gambling. Tobin and 
 Duncan, auctioneers of China ^oods, finding them- 
 selves with a large stock, and bidding being slow, en- 
 gaged the Jenny Lind theatre, spread out a brilliant 
 array of prizes, one thousand in number, consisting of 
 diamonds, jewelry, paintings, and China fabrics, and 
 on the (Jth of March, 1852, distributed the whole by 
 lot amoniT the larire audience in attendance. Fi^■e 
 
 among 
 
 Ui'-lBi 
 
RAFFLES AND OTHER GAMBLING. 
 
 hours were occupied in the drawing, which took place 
 under the superintendence of a committee of eiglit 
 persons. The first prize, a diamond watch valued at 
 two thousand dollars, was drawn by one Moses. 
 
 Duncan's Chinese salesrooms, thrown open the 5th 
 of April, 1853, made a finer display of Oriental mer- 
 chandise and curiosities than any similar establishment 
 in Europe or America before or since. Spacious 
 rooms, tastefully fitted up, were crowded with costly 
 Asiatic goods, })rescnting the appearance more of a 
 magnificent museum than a shop. The wealth and 
 splendor of the Indies were spread out in tempting 
 array for the benefit or ruin of purchasers — shawls 
 from Thibet and Cashmere, silks embroidered bv pa- 
 tient Hindoos, Chinese robes, ornaments in wood and 
 ivory, work-boxes of Bombay, scented sandal-wood, 
 grotesque carriages from Japan, porcelain ware, and 
 paintings. 
 
 Beside the elaborately wrought silk and crape 
 shawls, which were very popular at first, but which 
 soon we it t ni of fashion, the Chinese shops in San 
 Francisco ottered many curious articles. Carved 
 ivory, representing auunals, cities, pagodas, junks; 
 puzzles, fans, chess and checker-men in wood and 
 ivory ; sandal-wood, roots twisted into peculiar shapes; 
 gorgeous but flimsy silks, satins, and velvets; hila'id 
 l.uMjuered ware and china, silver filigree work, pictures, 
 jDid a thousand other things, displaying the a3sthetic 
 shades in the minds of those half-civilized heathen. 
 
 Business at the beginning of 1854 was pronounced 
 (hill ; everybody was complaining. The minors lacked 
 water, tire country traders money, and so the ware- 
 In >uses of the city must groan with goods and their 
 owners with mnui 
 
 It. would, indeed, have been very strange had not 
 sonio become <liscouraged. One man landed in San 
 Kniucisco in January, 1851, with $150,000 worth of 
 troods. The first fire after his arrival destroyed half 
 ot tliom, the next swept away the remainder, and 
 
! Ill I 
 
 :- ^ 
 
 f/0 BUSINESS. 
 
 after a six months business career in California, he 
 returned home ruuied and well-nigh heai"t-broken. 
 No wonder that some, their fortunes smitten to dust, 
 predicted for the city the fate of Babyh)n, and fled 
 from its portals as from the gates of Sodom. But 
 notwithstanding the rapid succession of disasters, 
 ^vhich in any other country under heaven would have 
 sri'nied fatal, again and again the city rose from its 
 aslu'S, and its people buckled on anew their battered 
 armor. 
 
 Yet the spring trade of 1854 was good. It fell 
 olT as usual toward summer, when there were great 
 complaints against insane and avaricious eastern 
 shii)i)ers for glutting the market with goods. In 
 August there was a revival in business and general 
 pr<»spi'rity throughout the state. Notwithstaiidhig 
 the many destructive fires, building was active, and in 
 the interior tt)wns a better class of liouses were 
 erected than ever before. Marysviile was specially 
 lively at this time, and the coast towns fiom Ban 
 Diego tA Puget Sound — San Pedro, Santa Barbara, 
 Santa Cruz, Monterey, Eureka, Trinidad, Crescent 
 City, I\jrt Orford, and others began to show signs of 
 progress. 
 
 At tine of the sales of the state's interest in the 
 city of San Francisco water lots, in October '854, 
 1;12 lots wen; bid oil' to a certain person who bubst- 
 (juently made two payments on account of tlie same 
 ill accordance with the terms of Siile. At the proper 
 tiniG the purchaser presented himself before the auc- 
 tioneers, the agents of the board <*f commissioners, 
 pr< j)ared to make the third and iiaal ])ayment, tt>- 
 getlier with the usual commissions and a fair price fer 
 drawino; ui> the deed. The Rircnts for tlio sale nt' 
 the state s interest refused to receive this last install- 
 ment, unless the purchaser would pay them in addi- 
 tion to their legal connnisslons $1,1)80 for making out 
 the deed, liehig at the rate of fifteen dollars a lot f<r 
 the 132 lots. AlthoUirh but one deed for the entire 
 
CHANGE AND REGENERATION. 
 
 359 
 
 purchase was necessary, the auctioneer claimed the 
 right to cliarge the same as if 132 dift'erent deeds 
 had been drawn up. This exorbitant demand the 
 purcliaser refused to pay and the lots were resold by 
 the commissioners' agents. 
 
 Thus matters progressed. From a savage wilder- 
 ness there soon emerged a settled community ; fortunes 
 were made and lost ; cities arose like magic and were 
 destroyed by fire or flood in a breath ; one day the 
 noisy industry of a busy population echoed through 
 the liills and ravines, and the next all was deserted as 
 if smitten by the plague ; speculative excess, gamb- 
 ling, and debauchery ran riot, while decency stood 
 l)y helpless to restrain. Unworthy and unprincipled 
 men usurped the highest offices, and by tlieir nefari- 
 ous schemes filled their pockets and those of their 
 abettors with the ill-gotten gains of pilfering and dis- 
 honesty, and all this time tlie press was either silent 
 through fear of })ersonal injury, or basely sold itself 
 to uphold iniquity. Then can)e a change for the 
 better. Vice was compelled to retire from ]>ublic 
 gaze; the gambl(;r and the harlot were no longer 
 allowed to ply their trades on the most public 
 t!;orough fares in the broad light of oixiu day, and 
 the beu'/li Itecame in a measure purified. 
 
 Yet public and private enterprises of a substantial 
 aiul permanent character were projected and cairied 
 out in greater numbers and more rapidly than hith- 
 erto. Formerly, such only were attempted as would 
 immediately }'ield a ricli rew'ard, and these wcni ac- 
 < oiiiplish*!*! with the least possible expense, and in such 
 a manner as to last only for the time being. T(>nts, 
 liuts, and log-cabhis were the h(mies of the ndner, a 
 raft was his ferry-boat, and a scratch upon tlie hillside 
 liis water-ditch. The towns and cities were of nmsh- 
 rooni growth, merchants cooked and sKpt in their 
 ;'!)lit-board stores, find guarded their goods and tri'as- 
 urcs from thieves and fires. Farming life was no bet- 
 ter, and exhibited ft w evidences of that spirit of 
 
1 '» 
 
 360 
 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 content and permanence which now began to appear 
 m well-tilled lands, with fences pnd drains in hand- 
 some dwellings with cultivated j^urdens and commo- 
 dious outhouses. Culture and improvement began, to 
 be seriously considered; institutions ..ore organized 
 devoted to morals, religion, temperance, and the ini 
 provement of the mental and physical condition of tlit 
 young. Plank roads were made, and substantial 
 bridges built across the principal streams. 
 
 Some eastern men made money in California, but 
 more lost heavily. If from sickness, fire, flood, or 
 any other cause, the extravagant ideas of eastern 
 speculators failed to bo realized, agents were accused 
 of frcaud, and the reputation of the whole country 
 called in question. A loss is mourned in louder tones 
 than tell a profit, and as, owing to the chaotic state of 
 aflairs, venture after venture was lost, and men wlio 
 had been known and trusted from boyhood slipped 
 from tlio fingers of rectitutle, the world was filled with 
 complaints of California, and it was thought that goM 
 and its corrupting influences had so undermined tic 
 principles of its votaries that the atmosphere! of the 
 Pacific slope was tainted with moral contagion. How 
 manv of those men labored true to their trust amidst 
 the most disheartening reverses, their friends at home 
 never knew Rushing liither, blind to all before them, 
 they fouTtd u condition of afl^airs xery dift'erent from 
 what tliey ha<J anticipated. The mart was crowded 
 with artiel<H unauited to the nujuirements of the 
 country, and lacking what it needed most. The mines 
 did not yield inevitable and immediate wealth, but 
 severe labor was there rewarded by fluctuating suc- 
 cess, so that the most faithful to their trust wiiv 
 sometimes forced to annul contracts and diHa|)}M)iiit 
 expectation. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF LIFE AND CHARACTER. 
 
 Al mondo mal uon e senza rimedio. 
 
 — Sanncaaro. 
 
 In newly-settled regions rural siujplicity is rare. 
 Igntiranco, stupidity, bigotry tluTo may be in abund- 
 iUH'o, V>ut tbat innocence which arises from isolation, 
 fn>m the absence of the contaminating influences of 
 fusil ion, frivolity, falsity, from the arts and humbug 
 of liigh life, and from the demoralizing tendencies of 
 social intermixtures, leading to deceit and dissipation, 
 is seldom ft)und in rural districts recently occupied. 
 For the harassing cares, the asj)critics, the trials of 
 ttinpcr attending family migrations, the clearing of a 
 wilderness, and the planting of a home are not such 
 as foster single-mindedness, domestic religion, and the 
 tenderer graces. 
 
 As time went by, the moral and social condition of 
 tlie mining towns greatly improveil. There was an 
 industrious, orderly, and intelligent population, with 
 wives and sisters; there were churches, and schools, 
 and libraries, and newspapers; there were well-filled 
 shops, and money enough to patronize them, but yet 
 tliey were far from being like the clean ipiii't villages 
 of New York or New England. The stoics were 
 o|>eii on Sunday, and the saloons were better filled 
 than the churches. The door of the harlot opened 
 upon the most public thoroughfare, and from within 
 mi^ht be heard by the passer-by the ribald oath and 
 oltscene jest, and the chinking of the gambler's che< ks. 
 
 <3f.l) 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF LIFE AND CHARACTER. 
 
 II '! 
 
 Houses, streets, and society, and life in general, ap- 
 peared crude and raw, as indeed they were. 
 
 Immigration, though decreasing in numbers, gained 
 in quality. The character of its composition changed. 
 Men now came to stay, bringing with them their 
 families, their lares and penates, and sufficient money 
 to establish themselves in some industry tending to 
 the increase of conuncrce, or to the development of 
 the country. The fitful and irrational passion which 
 
 {)rompted earlier innnigration was less indulged in by 
 ater comers, who sought success where success is 
 usually found, in permanent plodding rather tiian in 
 sudden acquirement. There were new avenues of 
 industry opened, and plains and valleys were orna- 
 mented with homes, made attractive by cultivation 
 without and endearments within. 
 
 Immiijration was wanted: but not that kind of 
 immigration which characterized the first settlement 
 of this country, and of many new countries ; not the 
 lowest and vilest from the purlieus of cities, nor 
 gamblers, nor ephemeral speculators; but earnest, 
 honest, hard-working and law-abiding men and women, 
 who should comeacrossthe plains with their ox-teams, 
 their household goods, and their little ones; or cross- 
 ing the water, should come to plant themselves in a 
 new soil, and there remain and build up for them- 
 selves and their posterity a new home. The daN's of 
 the adventurers were past; in coming they fulfilled 
 their destiny, acted their part in the great social up- 
 heavals which, in their coalescing, outlined the config- 
 urations of future institutions, gave boundaries to 
 thought, and color and cHmax to ideas; but now tlu ir 
 work was done, and the slower process of disintegia- 
 tion and alligation must be accomplished by otlirr 
 
 agencies. 
 
 Three years had scarcely passed before it was dis- 
 covered that California possessed charms as powerful 
 to retain as to attract. It was a proud thing for the 
 young villager to visit his old home with well-lined 
 
THE RETURNED CALIFORXIAN. ||t 
 
 pockets, the admiration of the girls, the envy of his 
 former companions, and the special object of interest 
 of the old folks. It was grand and hertuc to be of 
 California. Tamely to settle in the slow old home 
 after participating in the glories of gold-digging, 
 gambling, and free fighting wa.s out of the (|uestion. 
 Nor were home and friends and occupation to the more 
 enliglitened from the larger cities, ever again the same 
 after a residence in San Francisco. Speculation and 
 conmiercial pursuits after the old fashion oH'erod no 
 attractions after having made three or four fortunes 
 with lightning rapidity one after another, though 
 they were swept away by fire as fast as made. So 
 gradually the contemplated brief sojourn lengthened 
 into a fixed residence, the family was sent ft>r, and 
 tlicn apparently for the first time the husband and 
 father opened his eyes to the iniquity around him 
 and went to work in company with wife and daughter 
 to bring about a better state of things. And this 
 moral morass was reclaimed almost as speedily as it 
 was formed. Healthy plants could not grow in a 
 swamp of festering corruption The question was 
 simply should the country be reclaimed to virtue or 
 should vice prevail. And now the easy citizen and 
 loose moralist becomes a reformer. If the country is 
 worth making his home in — and do his best he can- 
 not live away from it — then it is worth purifying and 
 directing in its young growth. So public gambling 
 is suppressed, prostitution driven from the more promi- 
 h' nt thoroughfares, libraries are founded, churches 
 l>uilt, and schools established; charitable institutions 
 spring up, and the ocean air, as it passes through the 
 streets of the city and over the bay, towaril the labor- 
 ers in the valleys and in the mines, carries with it less 
 of pollution and blasphemy than formerly ; a long 
 breatJi of it may now be taken without suffocation. 
 
 Enough sudden fortunes were made' enough rich 
 deposits unlocked, to keep alive the flame of expecta- 
 tion. Who knows, thought the patient unsuccessful 
 
i 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF LIFE AND CHARACTER. 
 
 delver but that my turn may come next, and my lifo 
 be illuminated by the roseate tints of gold, warm 
 mellow metal, transcendent gold. Take for example 
 the tunneling operations which in 1854-5 dissected 
 every hill. Without capital, without means even to 
 buy bread, four or six or ten men form themselves 
 into a "ompany and coolly begin a work requiring 
 years of irbor and thousands of dollars to complete. 
 Buoyed by faith hi theories of world-building you 
 hear them talking of ages past as other men talk of 
 yesterday, reasoning of the time when channels of 
 rivers wound round the lofty hills, when through a 
 silent world tenantless streams rolled into a saltless 
 sea. 
 
 Thus strong in faith,hope feeds and clothes the phil- 
 osophic miner for months and years. He lives and la- 
 bors, he scarcely knows how. Time passes ; the end 
 approaches; the last blow is struck; the point is reached 
 which marks success or failure. Round him who 
 washes the first i)rospcct-pan on reaching the end of the 
 shaft or tunnel, agroup gathers breathless with anxiety. 
 One with furrowed brow, and silver-sprinkled hair, and 
 features fixed and immobile from care and toil, thinks 
 of her who with him has started down the limitless 
 decline, whose days will soon be past brightening 
 with gold, and whose fate for life with that of others 
 dear to him, the next five minutes may decide. An- 
 other, a young sire, forgotten of his children, scours 
 into a fiery glow the hairy skin above the heart, calls 
 back his flitting fancy from the heaven of the old 
 home, and peers into that pan of dirt as into an oracle. 
 Yet another, little more than boy in years, though old 
 enough in experience, delicately featured and boarinLf 
 signs of good breeding, the small hands hardened, and 
 fingers cramped by crowbar and pickhandle, yet not 
 so stltf but they can renew by every steamer the story 
 of unchanged love to her whose image fills his heart, 
 ah t What means the product of that pan of dirt to 
 him? 
 
SLAVES AND SLAVEHOLDERS. 
 
 3r>5 
 
 Less and less become the contents, until at last the 
 result is known — two ouiicos they think it is, but call 
 it an ounce, and their fortunes are made. Yet for 
 ivery one who wins, let it be remembered, ten fail. 
 And what means failure such as this? It means a 
 slice (►f life thrown to the dogs, a measure of capabili- 
 ties emptied upon a dunghill, capal)ilities of enjoying, 
 (if improving; it means grayer hairs, deeper furrowed 
 lineaments, and stiH'er limbs, with no results in ac(iui- 
 sition worth living for. And besides this loss of 
 time, of hope, of energy, it means bankruptcy, a long 
 unpaid and unpayable score at the butcher's and a 
 dozen other like places; it means in the man and all 
 iiis affairs demoralization, if not Indeed dissipation and 
 death. 
 
 The absence of cant and fanaticism, and the liberalized 
 views of the people on all subjects saved California 
 from most of those festering disputations and argu- 
 iii'-nts to which the question of slavery gave birth in 
 other states of the confederacy. Here all the world 
 met as on neutral ground, ignoring bootless argument 
 (»ii topics foreign to their immediate purp(»se. Ques- 
 tions of social policy were based for the most part on 
 utilitarian ])rinciples ; doctrines and dogmas were left 
 to those who had more leisure to discuss them. While 
 m;uiy were in favor of the admission of California as a 
 slave state, the majority were decidedly opposed to it; 
 yet northerners were not disposed to quarrel with 
 slaveholders for bringiny: with them their servants, 
 and permitting them to work for their masters as long 
 as they pleased. In the mining districts and in the 
 towns tnere were many slaves, who of course could 
 leave their masters at any moment, and did in tlie end 
 leave them, yet for the time and midst the hubbub of 
 eontonding events they preferred bondage to a sever- 
 aiiec of old ties. 
 
 In this pandemonium plunge, ten centuries of cul- 
 ture and superstition were flung to the winds. There 
 were new thoughts, new hearts, new dress, new 
 
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ILLUSTRATIONS OF LIFE AND CHAnACTER. 
 
 speech, and new names. Conventionalisms, creeds, 
 and politics were left at home in coming hither; here 
 were new conditions for a fresh unfolding. New con- 
 ventionalities arose, crude and strange, born of the 
 necessities of the new society; for intellect, volition, 
 and passion must of necessity develop form and 
 fashion. 
 
 Some trivial circumstance — anything which hap- 
 pened to strike the fancy of the dominant spirits 
 anionff his new associates — as likelv as not fastened 
 upon each new comer an appellation which adliercd 
 to him through life. Thus the dress of one suggested 
 the name of Frippery Jim, the complexion of another 
 that of Black Bill or Red Rover. 
 
 Almost ev^ery mining camp had its Yank and Sandy, 
 its Little Breeches, Pike, Boston, Mississippi, Mis- 
 souri, Bricktop, and so on, names significant of pecu- 
 liarity or place. There was no one to vouch for the 
 truth of the stranger's statements concerning himself. 
 It was scarcely to be supposed that he would give liis 
 past character exactly according to the record; and who 
 knew but that he might also have changed his name ? 
 "Who are you?" in a tone by no means likely to ])lacc 
 a timid man at his ease, was the first question. 
 "Sturgis, Deacon Sturgis, they used to call me in 
 Connecticut, where I came from." "You a deacon," 
 with an ominous step forward, "Hell is full of sucli 
 deacons 1" Another quick survey for a salient point, 
 and a sanctimonious air seems predominant, which 
 together with the report given of the new arrival de- 
 termines the matter. "This is Pious Pete," and if 
 the christened one was wise, he would gracefully ac- 
 cept his new name, and invite all hands to partake of 
 the new communion. 
 
 San Francisco, as well as Athens, had its Diogenes. 
 Philosopher Pickett was his name. Between Picket t 
 and his Athenian prototype there existed certain dif- 
 ferences incident in some measure to differences in 
 age and country. For example, instead of rolling in 
 
A SAN FRANCISCO DIOGENES. 
 
 367 
 
 hot sand, and clasping snow-clad statues, the Califor- 
 iiian philosopher sunned himself on the piazza of liis 
 hotel, and drank iced juleps. His tub stood in the 
 lobby of the legislature, where he practised the pro- 
 fession of connnanding men. 
 
 However at heart a cynic, the surface was charm- 
 inirly bland. So it always was with Californian 
 philosopliers. Of whatsoever school, the very first 
 requisite was a free and easy demeanor. This, with 
 always a readiness to drink at some one else's expense, 
 and a hajipy faculty of impelling the hands of listeners 
 into their pockets for the benefit of a bar-room com- 
 jiany, were qualities in obtaining an ascendency over 
 tlie mind more fruitful than flagellations, chastity, 
 })()verty, or any species of antics or asceticism. 
 
 (jffice-seekers were not slow to perceive that Phil- 
 osoplier Pickett was endowed with qualities of great 
 value to every one except himself It is enough fov 
 a jthilosophcr to be a philosopher. The moment he 
 seeks wealth or political preferment the pedestal 
 crunil)les, and he becomes like other men, earthy. 
 
 Once a candidate for a legislative clerkship, noticing 
 the extended acquaintance and easy influence of the 
 pliilosopher, determined to approach him. The little 
 man was courteous, and verj"" free with his half dollars 
 about bars and billiard-tables. In due time the appli- 
 (ant for office broached the subject nearest his heart, 
 and begged the philosopher's influence. Pickett 
 turned to him in apparent surprise, as if the man's 
 every movement for the past three days had not dis- 
 covered his ambition, and straighteninii his slim fiijure 
 to its full height, fixed upon hmi a pair of glittering 
 yray eyes, and spake : 
 
 " Sir," said he, " I am the last man outside of Plato's 
 n{)ublic from whom you should solicit aid. Should I 
 advocate your claim, the meudjcrs would suspect you 
 lionest; and surely you nmst know that an honest 
 niiui stands no more chance before a California legis- 
 lature than a cat in hades without claws." The laa- 
 
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 368 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF LIFE AND CHARACTER. 
 
 guage of Californian philosophers, it will be observed, 
 is more forcible than elegant. " If you want office," 
 continued Pickett, "cheat at poker, brawl o' nights, 
 murder a man or two, show your breadth at bribery, 
 — anything rather than display such weak imperfec- 
 tions as honor, honesty, and good character. Our 
 legislators will none of these." 
 
 Many a walking romance, many an epic in flaunt- 
 ingr robes or rags has wandered these hills. Far be- 
 yond the limits of human habitations, on the top of a 
 mound surrounded by what was called the Doomed 
 valley, there once lived a personage known as the Old 
 Man of the Mountain. No one knew his name, or 
 who he was, or whence he came. He was absent all 
 day, no one knew where, returning regularly at night, 
 and he was never seen to cook or eat anything. The 
 scattered cooking utensils appeared never to have been 
 used by him. Finally he vanished as mysteriously as 
 he had come. How many hermits have walked the 
 streets of this strange city, and how many hermitages 
 have there been in unfurnished rooms and boai'ding- 
 house garrets 1 
 
 In common with men true to themselves, the intel- 
 ligent, the honest, the faithful of every nation, 
 California became the rendezvous of prize-fighters, 
 thieves, gamblers, and murderers. Convicts came 
 over from Australia, bold desperadoes of the order of 
 Saint Giles, and outlaws from various parts. It was 
 the paradise of the disgraced, the bankrupt, the de- 
 faulter, the felon. But happily these were a short- 
 lived race, and there was enough of a different element 
 at first to leaven the mass, and finally, in the shape of 
 vigilance committees, to purify it. Then there were 
 numberless intermediate and less influential grades, 
 such as would-be leaders of cliques, who conceived it 
 their mission to enlighten mankind and exalt them- 
 selves; exquisites, gentlemen by profession, and by 
 profession only, whose feathers were speedily plucked 
 by humbug-haters, who grew apace in the congenial 
 
UNITY IN VARIETY. 
 
 369 
 
 atmosphere ; the excessively prim and puritanical, who 
 when they fell never stopped mitil they reached bot- 
 tom; godless young men, of rich and honorable parent- 
 age, who preferred the woollen sliirt and unkempt 
 beard of the miner with immediate independence to 
 the more sedate and less venturesome life of plodding 
 ros[)ectability, with the crowning honor of church 
 dcaconship or bank director to gild its latter days. 
 
 Notwithstanding the diversity of character here 
 displayed, diverse in thought, customs, beliefs and 
 tongues, there was almost immediately apparent — in 
 tlie Caucasian portion of the society at least — a re- 
 markable homogeneity and oneness in adaptation to 
 the new order of things. Strangers to each other's 
 faces, to each other's hearts, to each other's idiosyn- 
 ( rasies, come from strange lands into a land strange 
 to all, and there at once fit themselves to strange and 
 improvised ways never before heard of by any. The 
 facility with which the several elements coalesced may 
 be attributed to two causes. First, although the up- 
 rising was general and proceeded from nations distant 
 and diverse, the exodus was one of certain homogene- 
 ous elements, no less individual and distinct than other 
 migrations of peoples. Human nature the world over 
 is framed on one model, and the component parts of 
 au individual society, though widely scattered origin- 
 ally, may be collected and fused into recognised metal 
 wliich shall pass current in all societies. Certain 
 qualities and classes throughout all the contributing 
 nations, were alike touched by the knowledge of the 
 gold discovery, and rose up in answer to one common 
 impulse. Secondly, being thus brought together obe- 
 dient to common promptings for the accomplishment, 
 eacli for himself, of a common object, there was a sympa- 
 thy of interests and a connnunity of thought and action 
 never displayed by characteristics and nationalities so 
 varied and extended since the crusades. The fact is, so- 
 ciety here was at once so unique and abnormal, that it 
 was impossible for anyone thrown into it not to con- 
 
 • i 
 
 I Iff >s 
 
 Cal. Int. I'oc. 24 
 
p 
 
 870 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF LIFE AND CHARACTER. 
 
 form in some measure to its demands; and this necessity, 
 which hes at the foundation of all progressional law, 
 threw over the moral and physical aspect of the peo- 
 ple the same general tint. All had C(mie hither t<> 
 achieve gold; sudden acquisition of enormous weaitli 
 was the one idea, and all those social fictions which 
 connnon sense vainly seeks a reason for were thrown 
 to the winds. High and low, educated antl ignorant, 
 polished and rude, are all confounded in an all-absorb- 
 in<>- fraternitv of labor. Under the woolen sh.irt and 
 grizzled beard the former dandy may scarcely be dis- 
 tinguished from the blacksmith, or the master from 
 his man. 
 
 How sadly has the world degenerated ! See that 
 ragged blear-eyed tailor. Twenty years ago he was 
 a white-shirted, shaved and nmstachioed gambler, 
 with his monte bank, his mistress, and his mule, all 
 the gayest of the gay. The songbirds were not 
 liohter-lieartedthanhe,ashe went home in the mornini; 
 and turned into bed for a sleep after a successful nigl it 
 of it. Then how professions have changed and mixetl 
 themselves up since then. There are mechanics 
 turned preachers; preachers turned politicians; edi- 
 tors turned lawyers and lawyers editors; a whilom 
 bartender now practises medicine, and yonder scrawny- 
 featured, shaggy-headed individual in Sam Slick cos- 
 tume takes photographs — very bad ones — in the 
 mornings, and sits upon the judicial bench dealing- 
 out justice, too often as blurred as his pictures, in tlie 
 afternoon. Dram-sellers have become millionaires, 
 and millionaires and paupers alike have passed down 
 the dance of death to the time-racket of delirium tre- 
 mens. Ancient washerwomen are drawn through 
 the streets in satin-lined carriages by caparisoned 
 horses, and attended by liveried servants, while these 
 who have known better days sit pale and sad of heart 
 sewing from early till late for bread. 
 
 Yet, with all their Acherons and rivers of sorrow 
 rolling over them, conscious always of sowing hero 
 
THE LAND AND THE MEN. 
 
 371 
 
 liun 
 
 the eternal seeds of misery, despair and death ever 
 gnawing at tlieir heart-strings, tlie unsuccessful ones 
 carrv a bold, brave front, treating lightly misfortune. 
 Melpomene's tragic face is wreathed in laughing ivy. 
 They are not the men to groan over sickness and mis- 
 fortune. They toil on, bankrupt in everything but 
 li()])(\ doul)t contending with expectation as the pick, 
 blow after blow, shiks among the boulders, with no 
 more thought of giving up than the gambler who 
 loses a bet. Their life has been a ha [>py -go-lucky 
 one ; every bh)w they struck was a wager. No won- 
 der tlicy used to bet at the gaming tables, it being so 
 iiiucli easier to ofamble thus than to bet a hard dav's 
 work against the ten dollars that tlu^y would get or 
 iii>t get. Thus we see how money which comes freely 
 tVoiii river bank or faro bank would go freely ; we see 
 Low it was that prodigality would follow so closely 
 ujion the heels of avarice; we see liow infidelity 
 springs from Impulse, until only one prayer is left to 
 tile miner. "Give us, O God, with the appetite, the 
 ijold to satisfv it. 
 
 In a general analysis of character prevailing in 
 Californian societv in its nascencv, we must not lose 
 siojit of its composite and heterogenous qualities. 
 Each individual member of societv was a particle, 
 independent of and in a manner antagonistic to every 
 otlier particle. Notwithstanding the general homo- 
 geiieitv of material, there were antagonisms of inter- 
 est, of disposition, of morals. Final concretion had 
 not yet set in. There was then an absence of those 
 (Tu|ue-formations, political coalescino's, and little society 
 or\ stalizations which have since become so marked a 
 fratiire in the connnunitv; and when orixanizations 
 came, one of the first was a banding of villians for 
 ])inposes of depredathm. Every honest man's mind 
 was intent upon its own aftairs, and dwelt littl<> on 
 tlios(^ affecting others or the public weal, except where 
 s;if('ty or greater gain made closer connnunion neces- 
 sary. All were strangers to each other; of their past 
 
 ' 
 
 
372 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF LIFE AND CHARArTER. 
 
 lives tliere was no record nor current report ; men of 
 tastes and habits the most opposite, such as the phil- 
 osopher and the charlatan, the missionary and mur- 
 derer, the merchant and the highwayman, were forced 
 together in one incongruous mass. Nevertheless, 
 there were traits common to all of them, promhient 
 among which were extraordinary energy^ and acute- 
 ness. It was a land of romance, the natural atmo.?- 
 phere of youth and inexperience, a land devoid of 
 the dull sameness that overshadowed the lands all had 
 left behind. 
 
 It was curious to see how proud were the success- 
 ful Californians of the country. The man wlio had 
 spent but three months here was entitled to the honor 
 of calling himself a Californian — on returning iiome. 
 Whatever his opinion of California while there, and 
 howsoever nmch he had lonjjed for home, once bark 
 among his friends and words could not express his 
 admiration for the land and the people. It was tlie 
 only place fit to live in, the only place where peopli^ 
 knew how to do business, the only place where mcii 
 filled the ideal of manhood, and as a matter of course 
 he was going back. In everything Californian lie 
 took a keen interest. First of all he was proud of 
 himself for having gone there, proud of the old clothes 
 and shaggy beard and gold dust which he had brouglit 
 back, proud that his eyes had been opened so as t(» 
 take in a view of the world. He regarded with pity 
 his old comrades who still plodded along at the rate 
 of a dollar or two a day. 
 
 Never since the great Egyptian exodus have tlie 
 Hebrew ra«e found a soil and society better suited to 
 their character and taste, better adapted to their pros- 
 perity and propagation than California. All nations 
 having come hither, shades of color, of L»elief, pecu- 
 liarities of physique, of temper and habit were less 
 distinctly marked. Gold was here, and in common 
 with the gentiles the Jew loved gold. Foi' the rest, 
 
 all 
 
 I 
 
THE HOME OF THE ISRAELITE. 
 
 373 
 
 all he asked was to be let alone, and here that bless- 
 iiiuf was granted him more fully than in any country 
 he had ever seen. Gold and golden o[)portuniti('S, 
 money-making and freedom of thought, speech, and 
 action, these were here, and these were the Jews' 
 eartlily paradise. 
 
 So Jeshurun waxed fat and kicked. He did not 
 love work, so he carefully kept out of the mines; but 
 in every mining town was found his clothing store, 
 his fruit and trinket shop, his cheap John establish- 
 ment. And in the cities he built him a synagogue, 
 ill id warehouses upon the streets devoted to niercjian- 
 dise, and dwellings in the choicest suburbs. Hotels 
 and watering-places were filled with his presence; 
 secret societies felt his influence; but otherwise, save 
 ill his trafficking, he held aloof from gentile associa- 
 tions. 
 
 Liberalized by environment the Jews cared little 
 f( )r the tenets of their faith ; many of them forsook 
 Ood; few closed their shops on a Saturday; some 
 sacrificed unto new gods; few took to themselves the 
 daughters of gentiles to wife. Nevertheless they j'et 
 retained their ancient rites, which proved as bands 
 holding them in one brotherhood. 
 
 True they shared with the Asiatic and the Ameri- 
 canized Spaniard the antipathy of the dominant race, 
 with this difference : the antipathy manifested toward 
 tlic Jew was perpetual and unattended by violent 
 demonstrations, while repugnance to the Chilean and 
 Chinaman broke out into occasional bloody encounters. 
 Ill this inspiring of dislike they excelled all other 
 lieople ; though they did not seem to take it greatly 
 to heart, and disliked as evenly and serenely in return, 
 ^[oney was the humanizing bond however; Christian 
 and Jew loved money. 
 
 Here, as elsewhere, they mingled freely with the 
 pet)ple, more freely, perhaps, than anywhere else since 
 the days of Abraham, though they mixed with them 
 as httle as ever. Though crafty and cunning, and 
 
 
374 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF LIFE AND CHARACTER. 
 
 oftentimes dishonest in their dealings, they were not 
 more so than otlier men, and they usually manajjjod 
 to escape detection and punishment. Seldom a Jew 
 was seen in jail, or in a mob, or intoxicated, tliough 
 upon the slightest pretext many of them would fail in 
 business, and compromise with their creditors. 
 
 Like the Chinese, they lived and accumulated 
 wealth where more lax or lavish gontil !S starved. 
 This was to their honor, and to the shame of the 
 spendthrifts. Often in early times in mhiing districts, 
 for«jettini; their fathers and their fathers' faith, thev 
 drank, and gambled, and raced horses, and swore, and 
 frequented houses of prostitution. Then they were 
 fine fellows, and the noble American miner voted tlie 
 Jew as good as the white man. Then the finger of 
 scorn was removed, and ostracism no longer talked of 
 in the charmed circles of commerce. 
 
 The Pike county man — which term was finally ap- 
 plied indiscriminately to emigrants from the wi!stoni 
 states — could not mingle with the mixed po[>ulation 
 of California without becoming in some degree tonod 
 down: tlie angles of the New Englander were in like 
 manner rounded ; even the Jew, eschewing old clotlies, 
 was often less mercenary than his neighbor, and at- 
 tained a fair degree of manhood. Indeed, there are 
 many Jews in California to-day who are far above tlie 
 average American or European in liberality and higli- 
 minded public spirit. But notwithstanding the tincture 
 given to society by the Englishman, the Frenchman, 
 the German, Irish, Scotch, Swiss, Spaniard, Italian, 
 and even the Chinaman, the Anglo-American has 
 ever been the dominant mind. An intermixture of 
 European, Asiatic, and African elements alone never 
 would have made a Califomian. It may have been a 
 staid English colony like Australia, or the field of 
 unprogressive fiery revolutions, like Spanish America, 
 but it never would have experienced that season of 
 speculative energy which has driven it so swiftly on- 
 ward. The European is sedate, conservative, method- 
 
 m 
 
ABSENCE OF (JOVEllXMEN'T. 
 
 :iT5 
 
 ical, plodding, and contented ; the Anijjlo- American is 
 versatile, venturesome, cuiming, dissatisfied, and cap- 
 tious, 
 
 California, naturally, with her sudden and wonder- 
 ful appeariniLj, demanded innnediate recognition from 
 tlio United States government as a full-fledged 
 state. Was it not right and proper that she should 
 bo so recognized, and that the mantle of })rotection 
 and the benefit of law should be extended over her? 
 And 3'et, month after month of the year of l(S4t), 
 she waited, now buoyant with hope, now sunk 
 in despair, wondering if ever the time would come 
 wlien party bickerings on the eastern side of the 
 llocky Mountains would give place to the inter- 
 ests of the people. A most anomalous position was 
 that in which the inhabitants of California found 
 themselves. They were part of a great nation, ar.d 
 yet were without government ; a country rich in min- 
 eral and agricultural wealth was theirs, but they had 
 only a limited control of it. Regulations for the ex- 
 traction of its treasures were wanting. Titles to ag- 
 ricultural lands, which nmst be in^proved at the set- 
 tlers* risk or not at all, were also wanting, and the 
 national congress had failed to provide them. 
 
 By transient visitors, and writers on California, 
 nmeli more was said than was ever understood of 
 the peculiarities of Californian society. As a rule phil- 
 osopliers and wise men coming hither can learn fully 
 as much as they can teach. Though they can tell us 
 many things we do not know, we can tell them many 
 things we know, as well as many things we do not 
 know, things they never met or are likely to meet 
 elsewhere. The appearance which California pre- 
 sented to them, with frequent exaggerations and 
 epithets denouncing all, was early heralded b}- hare- 
 brained writers in the various languages, and Califor- 
 nia made to appear in the most diabolical light, giving 
 this as the normal state of American society. 
 
 There were always present alarmists and croakers 
 
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 ILLUSTIIATIONS OF UFE AND CTIARACTER. 
 
 enough, who saw nothing but disastrous torniinatlons 
 of a social organization begun on such a low and sor- 
 did basis; who were always pointing to haunts of li- 
 centiousness, to drinkinjr and gambling saloons, to 
 ballot-box stuffing, public debt, political wickedness, 
 and vigilance conunittees, to police reports and all the 
 dismal paraphernalia of vice, as if these were Califor- 
 nia and the basis of Californian society. 
 
 Thus it was thai, for a quarter of a century in 
 foreign parts and on our eastern seaboard, California 
 was but inji)erfectly understood. After all the toning 
 down and polishing up which society was destined 
 here to undergo, in the minds of the distant nmltitude 
 we were still the same lawless, godless crew that 
 enacted the Inferno of 1849. And we asked how 
 louix we were to suffer the stijjjma and lie under the 
 cloud ; how long our elastic eneri^ies must tuni and 
 overturn before our foreign friends could see us as we 
 were ? We asked the question in the fifties and received 
 our answer in the eighties. In this continued mi.scon 
 ception of our character we may, however, more fully 
 recognize how deep was the impression made by the 
 discovery of gold. Roused to its remotest corners by 
 the mill-race diggers* shout, the world in one glance 
 fixed in its stolid brain the shocking nightmare that 
 followed, a i there the impression remained. And in 
 truth enough even now remains of the old sulphuric 
 smells and pitchy infirmities to modify somewhat our 
 pride ; but in that great day when our friends across 
 the Atlantic and across the Pacific shall have madi^ 
 white all their robes, even as those of the daughters 
 of -zEger and Rana, may not the children of pioneers, 
 and the survivors of the early pandemonium hope to 
 have achieved in their eyes a change of raiment? 
 
 We have much to say of life in California ; not so 
 much of death ; and yet all Californians die. In early 
 times rum, exposure, and disease not being sufficient, 
 they all used to carry revolvers to kill each other 
 with. Ask them why they carried the man-killing 
 
A COMMUNITY OF rLAfK-IlUNTERS. 
 
 ^71 
 
 iniplenuMits, aiul tlioy would say to <l(f('ii(l tlicir lives. 
 Y"t ill n-ality the anna which the miners displayetl on 
 all occasions for protection, impliedly from their com- 
 panions, only invited attack and added to tluir danger. 
 Though they thou<;ht, that like the belt of Thor, the 
 Scanilinavian war-god, these implements doubled 
 their strenjjfth whenever they put them on, in reality 
 they were weakened by them to that same dej^ree. 
 They could die pretty well, die coolly, die with their 
 hoots on, as they called violent death, but theirs was 
 not the coolness of wisdom and philoso])hy. Theirs 
 was not the death of Socrates, for example. "Crito," 
 he said, as the circle of the subtle })oison narrowed 
 slt)wly round his heart, "Crito, I ov/e a cock to Aa- 
 dopius; will you remember to pay the debt?" "The 
 debt shall be paid," said Crito; "is there ajjything 
 else ?" And so he died, the- ' being his hijt words. 
 
 There was a class of young mea who came to Cali- 
 fornia in those days, by no means a small one, that 
 commanded our special sympathy. They were mostly 
 from schools and colleges, of fine abilities and hiii^h 
 l)romise, well read, and many of them leaving pleasant 
 homes and affectionate friends. Possessing a high- 
 strung, delicate organization, their young ambition big 
 with enthusiasm, they came hither with mhids half 
 formed, and with vague ideas as to their future. They 
 only knew that here of all places in the world was 
 their opportunity; that in this arena there was for 
 every man a career, and distincticm to him who had 
 the nerve to win it. They felt in themselves the com- 
 pressed energy of youth, the smothered fire of yearn- 
 ing aspiration. Lured by golden hopes, they joined 
 tlie El Dorado argonauts and came to California. On 
 reaching San Francisco, they found thousands of 
 others, who, like themselves, had landed without 
 ]iionoy and without friends, and were looking for 
 something to do. The professions were over-crowded, 
 and all the avenues of trade thronired. 
 
 '., 't 
 
 11'' V 
 
378 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OP LIFE AND CHARACTER. 
 
 One of these waifs would start out in the mominor 
 and \^isit all the law offices ; then he would hang 
 around the courts and public offices ; or he would go 
 from shop to shop begging a situation. Only give 
 him something to do, something on which to feed the 
 fire (jf his ambition, and no matter how hard the 
 work or how small the pay he would gladly under- 
 take it. Give him a trial ; he was apt and honest, 
 and he must soon have work or starve. Day after 
 day, from morning till night, and every day for weeks 
 and months, with heart in his throat, and big shame- 
 faced tears now and then slipping out from under his 
 eye-lashes, his very soul sinking within him, he would 
 make his mournful rounds. All was life and bustle, 
 and merry money-making; fortune's favorites jostled 
 him as they hurried past ; only he with stifled long- 
 ings was doomed to walk the streets like a beggar 
 and an outcast. Yet not alone, for there were hun- 
 dreds of others like him, every steamer emptying out a 
 fresh supply, and the merchants could not furnish places 
 for twenty applicants a day. Often a hundred of 
 these sad earnest faces might have been seen stand- 
 ing at one time, at seven o'clock in the morning, be- 
 fore a store waiting for the door to open in order to 
 answer an advertisement for a bookkeeper. At 
 length heart-sick and disgusted they would scatter 
 off, some finally to do the work of porter or day- 
 laborer, or to drive a cart or milk- wagon, or to work 
 on a farm ; others, and by far the larger number, go- 
 ing to the mines. There the wanderer, standing in 
 the cold running snow-stream of the Sierra, working 
 in the river-beds or on the canon-side until his limbs 
 are immb and sharp rheumatic pains shoot througli 
 his shoulders, at night tossing in sleepless unrest on 
 his hard bed, or gazing in heartful self-pity on the 
 stars thinking of home, with crushed enthusiasm frets 
 his days and nights away, at morning wishing it were 
 night and a j night wishing the morning were come, 
 brooding over his lost estate and the unrev/ardcil 
 
EVER-FLITTING FORTUNP- 
 
 W^ 
 
 drudgery which has befallen him, over visions of 
 departed promise that rose so flush in his youth- 
 ful manhoixl, now all fled, leaving him but the one 
 hope of final rest. So time slowly drags along, 
 while fortune flits before. Talk to the unfortu- 
 nate of bearing up, of the folly of despair, of the 
 greater difficulties conquered by the heroic struggles 
 of others, and he will point you to years of unrequited 
 toil, to the bright yellow ignis fatutis that ever eludes 
 his grasp, to the many times when undismayed he rose 
 after a fall, and applied himself with new energy to 
 new tasks, until bruised in heart and bleeding he can 
 rise no more. He asks not your sympathy ; for his 
 failure he makes no defence ; he will never return to 
 his friends humiliated; leave him alone to die! 
 
 It is sad to see dead hope entombed in a sound 
 body, to see the vigorous mind cramped as in a cruel 
 prison-house, and the guide of young manhood brought 
 low. To him who was thrown upon himself in youth, 
 and accustomed to the rough cares of life, it makes 
 little difference where or how his lot is cast. If he 
 cannot be cook he can be scullion, line his stomach 
 with satisfying kitchen grease and be happy. But 
 with those who have been carefully guarded in their 
 youth it is not so. Crush the enthusiasm in an am- 
 bitious sensitive heart, put out the fire that drives 
 tlic machinery, and you may bury what is left. Work 
 is not the well-bred vounoj man's misfortune; with an 
 object he will work his fingers to the bone, he will 
 work his brain until the veins on his hot forehead 
 swell almost to bursting ; he will leave behind him 
 dead half a score of your mechanical drudges at 
 Work. Poverty is not his misfortune; to be well 
 housed, well fed, and well clothed are trifles to him 
 who has a purpose in hand. His misfortune is to 
 have his intuitions stifltxl, his talents choked, his 
 mind withered for want of development; this it is that 
 makes him sour and misanthropic, all worth living 
 for, growth, development, culture, an intellectual life, 
 
 m 
 m 
 
 II 
 
 I 
 
 ^^1 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF LIFE AND CHARACTER. 
 
 
 a nobler manhood, or the hope of attaining these, 
 forever lost. Perhaps it would be well for such a 
 one to ask himself if it were not possible to find hap- 
 piness in something short of the full realization of 
 his original plans. 
 
 Success often springs from failure ; at all events, it 
 lies in the discipline wrought by noble efforts rather 
 than in the end of wealth and luxury. Many a heart- 
 sick wretch in San Francisco has wandered over these 
 sand-hills, out around by the Presidio hills to the 
 Golden Gate bluffs and the ocean, and there gazing 
 forth on the broad waters, or watching the tumbling 
 waves come in and break in silvery surf at his feet, 
 thought of the dead past, of blasted hopes, and a 
 black future; thought in self-pitying woe of home and 
 the loved ones there; thought of the great gulf of 
 separation here, and the dismal blank of the hereafter. 
 " Why, O God ! why is it?" he would ask. " Dost thou 
 delight in breeding men to misery f 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 AMONG THE MINERS. 
 
 Mensura juris vis erat. 
 
 — Lucan. 
 
 The miners of the flush times, their characteristics 
 and quality, their idiosyncrasies and temper, are as 
 far beyond description as the wind and weather of 
 CaUfornia, where the twenty sides of twenty thousand 
 lulls, and the twenty turns of twenty thousand ravines 
 have each an individual climate. Twenty life-times 
 might be spent and twenty volumes written before the 
 story of one mining-camp in all its ramifications could 
 bo told. The story of one mining-camp was the story 
 of mankind; and to follow it after death was the 
 story of the gods. 
 
 Each man of them should be enriched with heaped- 
 up grains of gold brought down by the streams of the 
 Sierra, as Croesus was enriched by the golden sands of 
 l^actolus. 
 
 Soon many of the camps could boast their church 
 and schoolhouse, and temperance hotel, and express 
 office atid bank; the scattering huts and cabins, and 
 sj)lit-board one and two-story houses, and squares 
 of shabby shanties, with a block or two edged on one 
 side with red brick or rough stone stores, all cluster- 
 ing beside swift-running streams, and the now stumpy 
 hillsides, and taking on the dignity of town. 
 
 As out of rough stones a smooth even wall is made, 
 so from these sometime uncouth characters, these 
 hairy and woollen-shirted men, were formed staid 
 
 (381) 
 
 ,1;: ii 
 
882 AMONG THE MINERS. 
 
 communities, with happy liomos and virtuous environ- 
 ment. 
 
 Their reading was mostly of tlie English Reynolds 
 type, and the Frencli Faublas' Lia'mms danfjereuses 
 order, "wliere," as Lamartine says, "vice parodied 
 virtue, and riotous liberty, love." Their books were 
 not always as full of charming villainy even as Rous- 
 seau's Confessions, 
 
 Alexander the Great, manslayer, was a small man; 
 Alexander Small, miner, was a great man. Anyone 
 with men enough could conquer any nation or kill any 
 number ; it requires no quality of greatness to do this, 
 and surely no one but a fool would drink himself to 
 death ; but I do not know that any great man pre- 
 tends to deny that he is a fool. On the other hand, 
 he who accomplishes nmch with little; he who can 
 deny himself, rule himself, is greater than he who can 
 only riile others. Alexander the Great had ambition 
 of which no medicine on earth could physic him; but 
 force was greater than ambition, greater than all glory 
 and all gods. Alexander the Great, dram-drinker, 
 man-killer, and gambler in ordinary to his Satanic 
 majesty, the world has known these two or three 
 thousand years; Alexander Small, gold-digger to tlie 
 gods, and the greater of the two, the world has never 
 known at all. 
 
 Many great men have been underrated during tluir 
 lives, many small men have been overrated; many 
 small in some things and great in others have been 
 rated small or great in everything. Ralston,* as the 
 California bank's president, sitting behind other men's 
 millions, was great, as Crcesus was great; Ralston, ;i 
 week later, dead, self-drowned, out of all his troubles, 
 was a small man indeed. 
 
 Evil results sometimes flow from good qualities ; 
 some are generous because they are weak, and some 
 are weak because they are generous. The sweep- 
 ing winds of passion palsj- the heart, jaundice the eye, 
 and dry of its freshness all the gentler qualities of 
 
GLADDENING GOLD. 
 
 383 
 
 their nature. Sometimes it became necessary for 
 every member of the community to watch every other 
 member, lest by some evil act the gods would be of- 
 fended and send down vengeance on all. 
 
 Nevertheless, out about this wilderness, among 
 comrades, partners as tliey frequently called eacli 
 other, in times of sickness and death there were deeds 
 performed such as hew mountains into statues in honor 
 of the dbers, while sea and solemn pines unite to sing 
 tlicir praises. And grotesque as niiglit be the miner's 
 burial as all knelt round the grave, old-time habit and 
 the liberal potations drank in honor of the departed, 
 aiding their genuflexions, there was as much heart as 
 iu l)rass bands or priestly palaverings. 
 
 Thousands tliere were who came and saw, but did 
 not conquer. Coming for wool they went homo shorn, 
 l^et the clouds write in dismal sliadows on the red 
 earth now abandoned of this swarthy society — fiiiniKS, 
 we have been 1 Complaint was of no avail ; roast 
 beef, plum pudding, and chanqiagne were not with 
 tliem in reason. Verily, it seemed if ever in this 
 bustling, breathing world times were out of joint, it 
 was these Californian times of 184D. Wickedness 
 prospered; virtue and merit appeared to be the ene- 
 mies rather tlian the friends of fortune. 
 
 Many a sparkling mountain stream has proved to 
 many a lusty digger an Acheron, a river of sorrow. 
 Ifis destiny had seemed to him as surely predeter- 
 mined as was that of Achilles, foretold by his goddess 
 mother. Stay at home and a long life of inglorious 
 ease crowned by wealth and progeny awaited liini ; go. 
 and a glorious death should swiftly follow a career of 
 victory. 
 
 And now, round his bronzed visage, coarsely streaked 
 with corroding care, hung grizzled locks wildly matted 
 as by the heavy pressure of inexorable environment 
 u[)()n the brain. Under the Sierra's feet is gold 
 enough for others but none for me. Bushels of it from 
 all parts pile themselves up at the metropolis, and 
 
I 
 
 1 
 
 384 
 
 AMONG THE MINERS. 
 
 thence is scattered to every quarter. Sent to the east, 
 sent to the west, sent to Europe, to Asia, there to 
 gladden thousands, why should not some of it gladden 
 me by gladdening mine? There is gold enough for 
 others but none for me. I have drank of Acheron, 
 let me now drink of Lethe. My past let me consign 
 to oblivion, and regenerate once more take my place 
 among the honorable of the earth. Brinij forth the 
 
 • • • t • A 
 
 divining-rod, the witch-hazel of the epidemic demono- 
 pathy, and let its subtleties become so clearly percep- 
 tible to the sublimated brain of the bearer, that the 
 arch-witch gold may be found, aye, gold I aye, gold 1 
 
 Hundreds went mad. Lunatics roamed the streets 
 at large ; indeed, it sometimes seemed as if all were 
 lunatics. Horrible is the disordered laugh of mad- 
 men and fiends ; and so is the hollow mournful mirth 
 of rioting starvelings, making dismal with their half- 
 ghostly orgies the lonely canon. But they were not 
 all as insane as they seenied. Should any object dear 
 to them be laid in their pathway, they would turn 
 aside the evil influences of their avarice or morality, as 
 Ulysses, who affected madness to escape the Trojan 
 campaign, turned aside his plough when the infant 
 Telemachus was laid in the furrow. 
 
 Prostrate in blank despair, oblivious from drink, or 
 battling undismayed, the life struggle still continues. 
 Walk round the arena, pass by the fortunate — they 
 are the exceptions, and can care for themselves — but 
 glance at some who have fallen. The old white-whis- 
 kered bell-boy who answers your summons at the 
 hotel was once a wholesale grocer, with a business of 
 six millions a j'^ear ; that waiter in the restaurant was 
 6nce colonel in the Austrian service ; an aide-de-camp 
 to Larmorcier hires himself to a paper-hanger; there 
 is a doctor driving a dtay, here a graduate of Trinity 
 college, Dublin, tending bar, and so on. 
 
 As the development of the country increased its 
 classical abnormities, with some of its greatest channs 
 diminished, and with the glamour of unreality origin- 
 
ONE OF SINCLAIR'S FANEGAS. 
 
 385 
 
 ally thrown over all removed, pioneers began to look 
 back upon it as a dream. 
 
 Time rolls on, and between the river banks and 
 wooded hills smile little garden spots, enclosing 
 neat white cottages, to which distance lends the flavor 
 of the old-time home, where wives so long and anx- 
 iously waited the return of their rough darlings. And 
 here they are still, far from the land of their birth, 
 youth's hopes perished, hastening to untimely graves. 
 Hatefully shines the new-minted metal, the price of 
 conscience, of love, the reward of life's failure 1 
 
 Slumber now is wooed not by the soft low tones of 
 wife and children; the care-heated brain is soothed 
 not by the magic touch of fairy fingers, nor is the 
 roused heart calmed by the uplifting and out-going 
 influences of family prayer and praise. Mingled with 
 the coyote's howl comes the sound of revelry from the 
 adjacent camp, while the panting river and the sigh- 
 ing wood sing their lonely lullaby. 
 
 And to the man of merchandise in the busy city's 
 marts arise visions of home, of the native village, of 
 friends beloved, of childhood scenes ; rocks, hills, and 
 wood; meadow, orchard, and the clear running stream; 
 garden and barn; pets and playmates, — these, and a 
 thousand like things, haunt them in their leisure hours, 
 intrude themselves during the hot perplexities of busi- 
 ness, and mingle with their midnight dreams. Time 
 was when there were hours, blessed hours, uncursed 
 by any burning desire. 
 
 Carelessly standing in one corner of Sinclair's house, 
 in the autumn of 1848, half covered by the old lumber 
 wliich had been thrown upon it, was a fanega measure 
 full of gold, all but half an inch. Now a fanega holds 
 a bushel and a half. One day came along Patrick 
 McChristian, happy in charitable peace with the 
 world, being himself in those days a prince among 
 the diggers, for his pockets were always stuffed with 
 his several thousands. 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 25 
 
 
386- 
 
 AMONO THE MINERS. 
 
 "What ye got there?" demanded Pat, as his sharp 
 eye caught the glorious color beneath the rubbisli. 
 " O, nothing much," Sinclair replied, "my men brought 
 it in." "Ain't ye afraid somebody will steal it ? " asked 
 Pat, as he threw off the articles that covered it, and 
 took a long and deep look into it. " I don't lie awake 
 nights about it," Sinclair said. "You may have it, 
 Pat, if you will carry it away ; yes, if you will lift it 
 but three inches from the ground." Sinclair was a 
 man of his word, but McChristian knew well enough 
 the feat to be impossible. Nevertheless, he could not 
 resist the temptation of plunging his hands into it, of 
 stirring it up and smoothing it down, and finally, just 
 for the fun of it, of taking a tug at it. "Only three 
 inches from the ground," again Sinclair quietly re- 
 marked, "and it is yours, so help me." 
 
 Pat lifted, straining himself into seriousness, strain- 
 ing until he saw sky-rockets and shooting stars. It 
 was of no use. The measure clave to the ground as 
 if riveted there. It would not leave it a hair's 
 breadth, and Pat was obliged to go forth and content 
 himself with increasing his fortune by slower degrees. 
 
 The quality of their fellowship was rare indeed. 
 Not more singular and hearty in verse was the wel- 
 come Horace gave Lucius Varius, his friend and 
 fellow-student at Athens, and the fellow-soldiers at 
 Philippi, than that given in reality by these rough 
 digging men to a returned comrade. 
 
 " Pour till it touch the shining goblet's rim, 
 Care-drowning inasaic; let rich ointments flow 
 From amplest concha I No measure we shall know I 
 What 1 shall we wreaths of oozy parsley trim 
 
 Or simple mjrrtle T Whom will Venus send 
 To rule our revel? Wild my draught shall be 
 As Thracian Bacchanals', for 'tis sweet to me 
 To lose my wits, when I regain my friend." 
 
 Under the shaggy uncombed locks were finely 
 tempered brains puzzling over the body's destiny; 
 and beneath gray woolen shirts were hearts, some 
 large some small, beating to the measures now of 
 celestial songs and now of Abaddon's wing-flaps. 
 
THE GOLDOMETER SUPERSTITION. 
 
 387 
 
 Behold the bummer I An unlearned man of modest 
 bearing, but fathomless cheek. Or if he be a legal 
 or political bummer we call him brick. He, too, may 
 sicken you with nauseathig words, or be as quarrel- 
 some, indolent, insolent, vicious, gambling, drink- 
 ing, fighting, and dandified as any member of the 
 Macaroni club that cursed Vauxhall gardens. This 
 man never did a day's work hi his life, never did a 
 useful thing, never earned an honest dollar, never 
 drew an honest breath. What he eats is not his own ; 
 his own flesh and blood does not belong to him. 
 And when invited to partake, such invitation being 
 the ever-present hope and aim of earthly existence, 
 he takes from his mouth his tobacco quid, as the ser 
 pent vomits its venom before drinkmg for fear of 
 poisoning itself. 
 
 The godless miners were not more free from super- 
 stition than papist or puritan fanatic. Once a Texan 
 charlatan, a tall, broad-shouldered, sallow-faced, livid- 
 looking fellow, Fletcher by name, dropped down on 
 Murphy's, and the worldly wise and cunning of that 
 camp were caught as easily as mediajval Christians. 
 Ho professed to have discovered or invented a gold- 
 onietcr which would direct the possessor unfailingly 
 to gold deposits, and enable him to trace unerringly 
 tlie precious vein through all its dips and curves and 
 angles, backing his statement by an offer to bet one 
 hundred dollars that in ten minutes he would find a 
 purse of gold hidden within the limits of an acre of 
 ground. No one cared to waste time over such 
 trifling ; surely he should know of what he was talk- 
 ing; show them where the undug gold lay, and he 
 should have his pay. Every man there had indulged 
 in some little pet necromancy of his own conjuring 
 which had cost far more than this ; they could but 
 lose. And so the Texan wizard bled them. Taking 
 his magical instrument, which consisted of a metal- 
 ninunted wooden pointer split at one end so as to take 
 in the man's waist, he proceeded to the diggings be- 
 
 "j| '.IP.'i 
 
 » H 
 
AMONG THE MmKRS. 
 
 yond the town, followed by a concourse of eager ex- 
 pectants. Arrived on the spot, after certain incanta- 
 tory preliminaries which would have put to blush a 
 Kadiak Shaman, he began to grope about as if in 
 darkness, then suddenly starting up he struck out a 
 zigzag course as if following a vein. Round the sjmr 
 of the hill and down the opposite slope, over claims 
 and through gardens the talisman-directed Texan 
 went, while the crowd rushed for pick and shovel 
 with which to mark out the line and unearth tlie 
 treasure. Down they went, digging with a will, five, 
 ten, fifteen feet, and no vein was struck. Deeper said 
 the sa^e, and a crevice twenty-five feet in deptii, 
 whi^h let the sunlight strike subterranean waters, was 
 opened without result. A sense of swindle began to 
 steal over those diggers and tliey went for the Texan 
 ffoldometer man. But the end was not yet. Select- 
 mg one from their number he seated him on an empty 
 whiskey keg, and began to mesmerize him and breathe 
 into him the spirit of prf)phecy. Shortly the spirit- 
 ualized miner began to talk, and he informed his eager 
 listeners that gold was surely there, but that it lay ten 
 feet deeper than they had yet dug. Satisfied by tliis 
 voice from another world, they continued their work, 
 but now with much greater difficulty, for besides be- 
 ing obliged to hoist their dirt they must pump out the 
 water which constantly flowed in upon them, so tliat 
 before they had reached the required depth the 
 Texan had ample time to make his escape. 
 
 It was in the winter of 1849-50. Two men whose 
 claims had yielded, every working-day during tlie 
 winter not less than $140, and from that to $320, 
 abandoned it early in the spring in order to hunt f<»r 
 something better. After a dangerous and fatiguing 
 tramp over the yet covered snow-ridges, spending sev- 
 eral months turning the channel of a stream which 
 yielded nothing, they turned their faces backward and 
 entered the nearest mining camp, without a dollar, and 
 with nothing that would buy bread, unless it was a 
 
WORTH AND WORTHLESSNESS. 
 
 389 
 
 double-barrel sbot gun. The weapon was worth fifty 
 dollars, but no one would buy it ; the traders had 
 stacks of old guns, which they could not dispose of, 
 ai»d no one just then happened to want such an arti- 
 cle. Their case was becoming desperate ; night was 
 coming on, and the empty stomachs called loudly for 
 food. Taking the gun in his hand, one of them stepped 
 up before a store and called out, "Who'll give me five 
 dollars for this gun?" One smiled, another shook his 
 head, no one wanted it. At length the store-keeper 
 reached out his hand and said, " Let me look at it." 
 After examining it, said he, " I'll play you five dollars 
 worth of pork against the gun." ** Agreed," replied 
 the impecunious miner. The miner won. "Now I'll 
 play you five dollars worth of flour against the gun." 
 The miner agreed, played, and won again. This was 
 too much for the speculative proclivities of the crowd, 
 and one of the lookers-on immediately bantered the 
 lucky owner of the gun to play him five dollars in 
 money against it, which was promptly accepted and 
 Wf)n. "Now boys," said the miner, again holding up 
 the gun, "I've made a raise; that let's me out; any 
 of } u can have the gun that wants it." Of course 
 no one took it, and the miner then rising and picking 
 ii]) his pork, flour, money, and the gun he could not 
 sell, but which had, nevertheless, served him a most 
 fortunate turn, joined his comrade, when the two 
 hastened to satisfy their hunger. 
 
 Some appeared blindly to stumble from one piece of 
 good fortune upon another. A nasal-voiced New 
 Englander in 1849, thought he would try California 
 in a small way for a short time. So buying a ticket 
 for $395, he sailed lazily down into the tropics and 
 crossed the Isthmus. That, however, was a dull busi- 
 ness ; besides he was making nothing. Arrived at 
 Panamd, he scratched his head, went to bed, and rose 
 ill the morning and rubbed his eyes. Then he went 
 out and sold the remainder of his ticket which yps to 
 
 I' 'II 
 
 
 1' 
 
 ;!N 
 
300 
 
 AMONG THE MINERS. 
 
 carry him to San Francisco for $700, hired himself as 
 butcher to the steward of the banie steamer for ^ 1 00 
 the passage, bought a pick in San Francisco, and fol- 
 lowed the crowd to the mines, turned up gold the first 
 blow he struck, took out $9,000 in the course of a 
 few days, sold his claim for $2,000, and returned 
 home to marry Hannah and set his traps for a 
 deaconship. 
 
 Probably there never existed a community more 
 prodigal in their generosity, and more munificent in 
 their charities than the fortune-hunters of California. 
 It is nothing new, it is nothing paradoxical, to sec 
 lavish expenditures attending successful ventures ; and 
 often it is that the more men risk for money the freer 
 they will spend it. With Spanish conquerors human 
 life was held in low esteem as compared with gold, 
 which once obtained was flung about as a thing of 
 little value. Winning gold with sword, shovel, or 
 cards, does not breed economy. 
 
 Few camps at the first were without their quarrel- 
 some cut-throats, who, like Achilles, preferred an 
 early death with glory to a long and quiet fameless 
 life. It was the assassin's paradise. In the faces of 
 some were painted the colors of debauchery. Rude- 
 ness was their rule of courtesy. 
 
 The sun contains neither gold, silver, tin, lead, nor 
 mercury, and yet the lusty diggers loved the sun. 
 They slept on the gently sloping hill-side, or down in 
 the dry beds of the rivers, roofed only by the timbered 
 banks, and lighted only by the dim cathedral light of 
 the stars,- which slid their rays through the rents in 
 the foliage overhead. Chaste as Diana, the yellow 
 metal seemed to possess her power, and turn intrud- 
 ing Acteons into stags. Boys still in feeling, their 
 locks began to silver, and soon they were old men. 
 
 As regards gold, for which these men had come so 
 far, and toiled so hard, and sacrificed so much ; gold, 
 for which loved ones far away were even now sutler- 
 
LEGEND OF NEGRO lULL. 
 
 301 
 
 ing, waiting with fond and faithful expectation the 
 wanderer's return, surely every grain of it should bu 
 dearer than his life's blood to the finder, and hoarded 
 as miser never yet hoarded wealth. Let us see. Says 
 tlie alealde of Monterey: 'My man Bt)b, who is of 
 Irish extraction, and wlio has been in the niinis about 
 two months, returned to Monterey four weeks since, 
 bringing with him over two thousand dollars as the 
 proceeds of his labor. Bob, while in my employ, re- 
 quired me to pay him every Saturday night in gt>ld, 
 which he put into a little leather bag, and sewed into 
 the lining of his coat, after taking out just twelve and 
 a lialf cents, his weekly allowance for tobacco. But 
 now ho took rooms, and began to branch out; he had 
 the Lv;st horses, the richest viands, and the choicest 
 wines in the ])lace. He never drank himself, but it 
 filled him with delight to brim the sparkling goblet 
 for others. I met Bob to-day and asked him how he 
 got on. 'O, very well,' he replied, 'but I am off 
 again for the mines.* 'How is that. Bob? You 
 brought down with you over $2,000 ; I hope you have 
 not spent all that ; you used to be very saving — twelve 
 and a half cents a week for tobacco, and the rest you 
 sewed into the Hning of your coat.* 'O, yes,' reimed 
 Bob, * and I have got that money yet ; I worked hard 
 for it, and the devil can't get it away, but the $2,000 
 came asily by good luck, and has gone as asily as it 
 came.'" 
 
 A negro, finding himself adrift in the gold-land, 
 thought to lay in a store, so striking out with the rest, 
 lie began at once to realize his hopes. He had not long 
 been at work when a rusty miner, bristling with bowie- 
 knives and revolvers, came down u[K)n liuu. 
 
 "Hello, you black scoundrel, what are you doing 
 in niy claim ? ** 
 
 "Beg pardon, massa; didn't know dis yore claim.'* 
 
 Glad to get away with his black skin unpunctured, 
 ho next essayed an empty hole at the foot of the hill, 
 
 ,r 1 
 
 i 
 
392 
 
 AMONG THE MINERS. 
 
 but no sooner was he fairly at work when he was 
 greeted with : 
 
 "Get out of there, you infemel nigger, or I'll blow 
 your head off I" 
 
 " Good Lord, massa, is dis yore hole ? Where, then, 
 shall I dig?" 
 
 '*Go up on top of the hill and dig, and bo damned," 
 was the reply. 
 
 The negro went, not dreaming that he had been 
 directed thither as the most unlikely place to find 
 gold in the whole district. Nevertheless, he sunk a 
 shaft, at the bottom of which he found gold, which he 
 took out to the value of $4,000. The place was named 
 Negro hill, and prov-ed to be the richest diggings in 
 all that region. 
 
 Labor was the only honorable occupation, and labor 
 was essential to manhood. He who did not work was 
 a social bastard, and a shirk. Lodging-liouscs in 
 early times consisted of a shanty, with walls lined 
 with standing berths, having coarse beds always ready 
 made, so that the proprietor had little else to do than 
 to sit on a stool and take the money. A mincer once 
 havivig occasion to occupy such a bed in San Francisco 
 seemed troubled in mind as he weighed out the dust, 
 and finally broke out with : 
 
 "Say, stranger, do you just sit thar and take a dol- 
 lar from every man that sleeps on them beds?" 
 
 "Yes, that's my business," replied the keeper. 
 
 "Then," said the troubled miner, slowly, as if talk- 
 ing to himself, "its a daumed mean way to make a 
 living, that's all I've got to say about it." 
 
 See that fortnightly steamer, proudly furrowing her 
 way through the great deep from Pananul to San 
 Francisco I To the scattered inhabitants of tliis vast 
 Pacific slope she brings intelligence from the old busy 
 east. Here is money and merchandise; here ])r(>fit 
 and losses; here germs of fortune and seeds of bank- 
 ruptcy. This, however, is not all. This ocean- 
 
 Th 
 and ui 
 disgrat 
 iiidu](>( 
 "lie loij 
 ^V(To ti 
 
 tirs. 
 
THEORY OF EXTRAVAGANCE 
 
 393 
 
 ,aoi- 
 
 plougher, a thing of life, comes freighted with high 
 tlestiny. Laden with how many tons of joy and sor- 
 row comes she ? How many bundles of love and hate 
 brings she ? How many thousands of little packets of 
 happiness and misery are to be distributed from the 
 mass of mail-sacks in her hold ? 
 
 Many were the men coming from the mines with 
 their little bag of hard-earned gold-dust, just enough 
 to carry them home, and perhaps a little more, who 
 f(^ll victims to the glight-of-hand sharks of Long 
 Wharf. It is strange that so many simple ones with 
 beards and brawny arms and wrinkled faces should be 
 found among those who had spent a year or more in 
 the country. It certainly speaks well for their asso- 
 ciates in the mines; but most of the weather-beaten 
 innocents were western men who came across the 
 plains and had never seen New York, San Francisco, 
 or any other large city, and the professionals of Long 
 Wharf were adepts, and very shrewd. Numberless 
 were the complaints of these old infants before the re- 
 corder, of having been inveigled under some pretext 
 into a low den, and there robbed, or induced to bet on 
 some sure thing. The cappers for these houses could 
 put their hands upon their victim among a thousand ; 
 usually in some way they professed friendship for 
 the countryman, and gained his confidence — he was 
 from the same state, was likewise going home, was 
 just about to procure his ticket, would show his friend 
 tlie way, stopping, accidentally of course, at the house 
 of his thieving associates. 
 
 muB 
 
 her 
 
 San 
 
 vast 
 
 Ibusy 
 
 i)rot\t 
 
 )anl<- 
 
 Iceau- 
 
 Tlus in the mines were elements instinct with riot 
 and unrest, while in the cities immbcrloas were the 
 (lisj^raceful bankruptcies attributable to foppery and the 
 inilulgenco of the palate. Such as these, enn)tying at 
 one long draught the Circe-prottered cup, straightway 
 ^\ (Tc turned to swine, retaining yet their human facul- 
 ties. To some it seemed as if a ]>remium was laid on 
 indulgence and extravagance. Fires were sweeping 
 
 i'^i 
 
894 
 
 AMONG THE MINERS. 
 
 away cities and their contents ; floods spread periodic 
 desolation over the land, mining and business ventures 
 were like staking money — or what was worse, time, 
 sinew, health^jnly from the falling of the dice, and 
 from that which a man spent could he expect to re- 
 ceive benefit. 
 
 Every mining-camp had its Anacreon, its jovial and 
 musical toper, who drank and sang in praise of wine 
 and love. Every camp had its ruling spirits, careless 
 of the morrow if only they might by the magic of 
 their gold, ardently spiritualized by drink, be perfectly 
 happy for to-day. They were as wild in their beliefs 
 and theories of gold-deposits as was Samuel Lover's 
 fairy-finder. Darby Kelleher, who threatened to make 
 mincemeat of little drunken Doctor MacFinn, whom 
 he mistook for a Leprehaun, if he did not straightway 
 fill his chest with gold. 
 
 It was a matter of no small pride to go back home 
 successful, and thousands remained and died rather 
 than be seen by their friends as poor as when they 
 went away. "Home or the mines I" was the watch- 
 word of more than one gambling venture. There was 
 an Englishman who, having secured a bag of gold-dust, 
 the result of a summer's work in the mines, reached 
 anchorage at Liverpool with Lis treasure in safety; 
 but on going ashore, the gang-plank gave way, and 
 he wa.^, precipitated into the water. To save himself 
 he dropped his bag of gold, and was never able to re- 
 cover it. Happening to have about him just enougli 
 to pay his fare to California, he immediately purchased 
 a ticket, and returned to the mines without ever once 
 casting eyes on his old home, or grasping his friends 
 by the hand. 
 
 But the lucky ones I How forever after by all the 
 villagers they were held in reputation as the bravest 
 and wi^^est of men, even as was Haddad Ben Ahab, 
 who journeyed to the wall of the earth's end, and 
 from its top gazed on the mysteries beyond. Yet 
 there were some who, after a weary search for great 
 
SMALL AND GREAT. 
 
 "m 
 
 things, returned to their homes, only to find their des- 
 tiny in village labor, their fathers at first seeming in 
 tlieir eyes old-fashioned, fossilized, non-progressive 
 men of la vieille roche. 
 
 The stories told by returned Californians were to 
 their hearers fabulous ; and they were, indeed, too often 
 as little worthy of literal belief as the wonders Rabelais 
 narrated concerning his hero — how seventeen thousand 
 cows and more scarcely supplied the babe with milk ; 
 how the mare on which he rode was as large as six 
 elephants ; how he cut lettuce as big as walnut trees, 
 used for his hair a comb nine hundred feet long, and 
 for a toothpick an elephant's tusk, 
 
 ■'' 
 
 f 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 SQUATTERISM. 
 
 Some suffer them selfe for defaut of aparannce, 
 To be outlawyd, and other some suspendyd, 
 Out of the churche for hys mys goueranunce, 
 And yet nought caryth, therfro to be defendyd, 
 Howe beit they myght: and haue theyr mater endyd, 
 Suche assay by falshode to prouoke the lawe, 
 And than it He, and them therefro with drawe. 
 
 y/tc Ship of Fools. 
 
 Squatterism is the doctrine or system which has 
 for its base the maxim eminently American that all 
 citizens have equally the right to share in the com- 
 mon property of the country, particularly in the public 
 domain. The terms squatter and settler are often 
 used synonomously, the former being no more a word 
 of opprobrium than the latter. A squatter is one 
 who takes possession of and settles on unoccupied 
 land. He may do so legally, taking possession of 
 lands belonging to the government, and in accordance 
 with all the requirements of government, or he may 
 plant himself on lands belonging to another or 
 on lands in dispute, or on lands covered by ISIexi- 
 can grants of which he had no knowledge, or in the 
 validity of which he had no faith. The term settler 
 is rather the more respectable of the two, as that im- 
 plies simply one who makes his home upon a piece of 
 ground formerly either public domain, or land held by 
 another and acquired by purchase. Thus we see a 
 squatter may be a settler, and a settler may be a 
 squatter. There is this distinction, and this only : a 
 settler is seldom intentionally a fraudulent squatter, 
 although a squatter may be a respectable settler. As 
 
 (396 
 
LAND-CLAIM COMMISSION. 
 
 397 
 
 a rule, however, the terra squatters is applied to those 
 who settle upon the lands of another, or upon lands 
 in dispute, while the settler is one of that worthy and 
 enterprising class who enter upon and subdue unap- 
 propriated public domain, and thereby establish a 
 claim, by virtue of first actual possession, to the right 
 of purchase or of title in conformity with law. Of 
 course a man may settle himself in town or in a 
 thickly populated district; but the term is usually 
 used as I have said. Between the honest settler and 
 the unprincipled squatter there was a marked differ- 
 ence. The one was contented with what land he 
 could use, and willing his neighbor should have 
 as nmch; he did not oppose monopoly in another 
 while practising it himself; he was not unjustly agra- 
 rian, but ready to respect the rights and titles of 
 others, as he would have others respect his. If the 
 large grant-holders came into possession of their lands 
 justly and in accordance with law, the land was theirs. 
 If our government promised to respect those rights, 
 it should do so, at whatever cost to its citizens. With- 
 out going back to the time when these grants were 
 made, when the Mexican authorities could not give 
 their lands away, and regarded every loyal settler an 
 acquisition compared with which a few leagues of 
 land were as nothing ; without taking into the account 
 the necessities of these grant-holders for broad lands 
 for grazing purposes, their risks of life and property 
 among the wild natives, their isolation, and their 
 cliances of never again living in civilized society, — 
 which indeed, but for the accidental discovery of gold, 
 tliey would not, nor scarcely did then, — without tak- 
 ing these and the like into consideration at all, the 
 holders of large land grants righteously obtained are 
 as much entitled to protection as any other class of 
 men in their possessions. 
 
 The squatter of the California flush times was one 
 who assumed the name of settler without being en- 
 titled to it. He was a professional gull, ever hover- 
 
 I 
 
 M 
 
398 SQUATTERISM. 
 
 ing about some oroad-acred pelican, which had dived 
 into the depths for its possessions, and held them 
 rightfully. He it was who speculated in town lots, 
 staked off fa ming lands, jumped mining claims, and 
 stole the nest of another rather than build one of his 
 own ; waiting and watching for opportunities to pounce 
 upon the property of others if so be he might escape 
 the law's penalty. 
 
 The squatters of Sacramento, affirming that the 
 lands of Sutter belonged to the United States, re- 
 solved, in July 1850, to hold possession of that which 
 they had seized, peaceably if possible, forcibly if neces- 
 sary ; and if the bail of an arrested squatter should be 
 refused simply because the bondsman was not a land- 
 holder under Sutter, all executions issued in conse- 
 quence thereof should be deemed illegal, and the 
 associated squatters should "act accordingly." 
 
 A commission was appointed by act of congress, 
 early in 1851, for the purpose of ascertaining and set- 
 tling private land claims in California. It was to 
 consist of three commissioners appointed by the presi- 
 dent, a secretary skilled in the Spanish and English 
 languages, and not to exceed five clerks; it was to 
 continue for three years, unless sooner terminated by 
 the president. An attorney was to be appointed to 
 attend the meetings of iiie board, and guard the inter- 
 ests of the United States in the premises. The com- 
 mission might summon witnesses, and administer 
 oaths; and every person claiming lands in California 
 by virtue of any right or title derived from the Span- 
 ish or Mexican governments, should present the same 
 to the commissioners when sitting as a board, together 
 with such documentary evidence and testimony of 
 witnesses as the claimant relied upon in support of his 
 claim. Appeals from the commission might be made 
 to the United States district court, and thence to the 
 United States supreme court. Three tedious tribu- 
 nals, attended by harassing and expensive litigation, 
 were thus to be undergone before the land-holder was 
 
SORROWS OF THE SETTLER. 
 
 399 
 
 secured in the peaceable possession of what in the be- 
 ginning was his own. 
 
 In deciding upon the vaUdity of claims, the com- 
 missioners and courts were to be governed by the 
 treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, the laws of nations, the 
 laws, usages, and customs of the government from 
 which the claim is derived, the principles of equity, 
 and the decisions of the supreme court of the United 
 States so far as applicable. A. patent should issue to 
 claimants for all claims finally confirmed ; those finally 
 rejected should be considered as part of the public 
 domain of the United States. Land granted by the 
 Mexican authorities for the establislimcnt of a town 
 in existence on the 7th day of July, 1846, and town, 
 farm, or pasture lots held under a grant from a cor- 
 poration to which lands were granted for town pur- 
 poses, did not come under the jurisdiction of these 
 commissioners ; and the fact of the existence on the 
 above mentioned day of any town or city being duly 
 proved was prima facie evidence, either of a grant to 
 the corporate authorities or to the individual, under 
 which holders might claim. It was the duty of the 
 commissioners to ascertain and report to the secretary 
 of the interior the tenure by which the mission lands 
 were held, and those held by tame Indians, agricul- 
 turalists, rancheros, and pueblos. 
 
 It was hoped that when California became a state 
 the uncertainty in regard to land titles, which exer- 
 cised so fatal an influence on agriculture and settle- 
 ment, would be quickly terminated ; but it was about 
 a year after congress had created a commission, whose 
 duration, as I have said, was limited to three years, 
 that the commissioners presented themselves in Cal- 
 ifornia. 
 
 Many of those who emigrated to California were 
 informed, and undoubtedly believed, that the vast 
 territory ceded by Mexico, and whose beauty and 
 fertility had been so extolled, was at the time of its 
 cession the public property of Mexico, and as such, 
 
 « 
 
 ■•}\ ^ 
 
 '■■■•■■■ Xi\ 
 
 III: 
 
 Uy^ I 
 
 m 
 
400 
 
 SQUA'iTERISM. 
 
 with the change of sovereignty, became the public 
 property of tlie United States. Under that belief 
 they oanio with their families, household goods and 
 catth;, feeling certain that an abundance of valuable 
 agricultural land was to be had for the taking. 
 TluTcfore, when on arrival they found all the best 
 arable lands covered by enormous grants to the Mexi- 
 cans and otliers; that their government had neglected 
 to carry out treaty stipulations to determine the valid- 
 ity of those claims; that the lands of native Cali- 
 foniians even were daily wrested from them by com- 
 binations of squatters and thievish lawyers, tliey were 
 greatly disappointed and naturally indignant. Then 
 it was that breaking down all hedge-rows of law and 
 logic, they struck the bold decision that these preten- 
 tious ten-league land-holders were usurping monopo- 
 lists, who, like savages, unjustly held from advancing 
 civilization brt)ad areas of God's earth for which they 
 had paid nothing, had no use, and t<i which they had 
 no right. Nor were there lacking lawyers and politi- 
 cal demagogues ever ready at hand to feed the 
 fire of their unjust anger and prey upon their pre- 
 judices. 
 
 The immigrants complained in a memorial to con- 
 gress, forwarded in December 1849, when social quitt 
 was most disturbed by the squatter excitement, th;it 
 tliey had come hither in the belief that their govern- 
 ment had purchased this territory from Mexico, and 
 that they had the right to preempt and settle upon 
 lands here as in any other part of the public domain. 
 But, instead of possessing that right they had found 
 themselves to be trespassers, subject to the extortion- 
 ate demands of pretended owners. Denied them was 
 the privilege to pitch a tent, to plant, to build, to 
 occupy. There is scarcely a spot fit for a settlement, 
 town-site, or farm, said they, that is not crossed with 
 Mexican titles or Spanish grants, and held by the 
 possessors for speculative purposes, greatly to the in- 
 jury of bona fide settlers. Thirty miles square in the 
 
 JK-OJI 
 WliH 
 
 noun 
 more 
 JioJdc 
 in th| 
 
 ihvx 
 hireh") 
 f^tand.v 
 like 
 
 filf'O O 
 
 sense, 
 •'•s the 
 *iisput£ 
 under 
 its su 
 turning 
 j"g a 
 ^>r the 
 tonance 
 practise 
 CaJiforri 
 Low 
 
IIIISII, AFRICAN, AND CHINESE. 
 
 401 
 
 Sacramento valley are claimed by two persons, who 
 jiarcol it )ut to gambling speculators for the purpose 
 of obtaining high prices from actual settlers, and this 
 was but a snigle instance. 
 
 There were not wanting men to espouse the cause 
 of law and order, in its relation to squatterism, as 
 t'lsdwhcre, and to cry loudly against the violation of 
 the sacred principles that constitute the fran?e-work 
 of scK'iety, whenever such violation stood between 
 tlieni and titles to lands held or coveted. On the 
 otlier hand, if law and order stood between them and 
 tlu'ir interests, they were the foremost to es})ouse 
 scjuattorism and brute-force title. The Herald, at 
 first tlie great champion of reform, the leader of the 
 people, and the instigator of committees of vigilance, 
 was denounced by its contemporaries, as later it de- 
 nounced the leaders of the reform of 1856. ** Nothhig 
 more plainly proves the real opinion of many land- 
 lioltlors and speculators in the city," says one, writing 
 in the autunni of 1850, "regarding the validity of 
 their titles, than the reckless and desperate course 
 tliey are now pursuing, as expressed througli the' 
 hireling newspaper organs, at the head of which 
 stands the Herald. If the present judges cannot, 
 like most of our old alcaldes, be bribed to uphold 
 the existing «ystem of land-ownership, and in the 
 face of all law, equity, reason, honesty, and common 
 sense, decide that the beach and water lots, as well 
 as the greater portion of the rest of the city, are in- 
 ilisputable titles in the names of those holding them 
 under such a system, I would ask the Herald and 
 its supporters what they expect to gain b}'- over- 
 turning these courts, murdering the judges, and rais- 
 ing a civil war to destroy the very government which, 
 for the time being, alone gives any support and coun- 
 tenance to the dishonest and fraudulent land robbery 
 practised not only in this city but in all parts of 
 California." 
 Low indeed lie the social sewers through which 
 
 Cal. Int. Foe. 'J& 
 
402 
 
 SQUATTERISM. 
 
 flow our party politics. Out of the depths, all whiskcy- 
 Boakcd and in ignorance drenching, were brouglit 
 Erin's exiles to be made kings. Then the down -trod- 
 den African was lifted to tlie bosom of northern re- 
 publicans, and borne tenderly to the polls. Next in 
 turn come the Chinamen, now called pig-tailed, and 
 turned into social swine, grunting under the blows of 
 the lordly Irishman; but when needed by a political 
 party every one of them should be a sweet John, 
 and a lovely almond-eyed American voter. The 
 squatters of California were at first denounced by the 
 officers of the law, who called them outlaws, murderers ; 
 but when these same office-holders desired reelection, 
 and squatterism had become a power in the state, 
 then candidates of every party vied with each other 
 in grovelling prostration. From their vocabulary 
 the term "squatter" was stricken, and every land- 
 robber was an honest settler. 
 
 The immigrants were undoubtedly much disappointed 
 at not being able to step in and take possession of the 
 choicest morsels of the new domahi, and thereupon 
 induljxed their disjjust with all the senseless bombast 
 common to enraged, free-born citizens of the great 
 American republic. With wagons, tents, and equip- 
 age, with guns, knives and pistols, they swarmed up- 
 on the lands of the grant-iiolders, threatening death 
 to any who interfered, and even went so far as to ap- 
 proach the verge of growing towns and stake off upon 
 the principal streets, beyond the limits of the occupied 
 portions, town lots at intervals of forty feet, markiiiL!; 
 the stakes with the names of the claimants, and the 
 time from which such possession dated. 
 
 Thus it was that very early in the history of Ameri- 
 can occupation in California, squatterism became an 
 evil. It was indeed only a phase of mob law, but with 
 this important difference. A resort to popular, arbi- 
 trary administration of justice might, under certain 
 circumstances, be excusable in criminal cases, where 
 tlie vital principles of social good conduct were at 
 
 wao 
 
 woni( 
 
 not 
 
 tics 
 
 Kinc( 
 
 Was 
 
 '^nit( 
 
 her, V 
 
 "f Fc 
 
 UU'll o 
 
 or vac 
 
 sidio, 
 
 iiioJislj 
 
 squatt 
 ^aptaii 
 court. 
 
THE EVIL AT SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 408 
 
 liicn- 
 Ic an 
 
 lai'V>i- 
 irtaiu 
 /here 
 Ire at 
 
 sialic ; but in civil differences, wliicli by no possi- 
 bility can a resort to arms in any wise lessen, and 
 Avhich must ultimately be determined by arbitration, 
 by tiic courts, by common sense and reason, and by 
 nothing else, fighting is brutish. In squatterism the 
 existence of courts is ignored, not because, us is tli(3 
 case with vigilance connnittees, justice cannot bo ob- 
 tained and the guilty escape, but because justice is 
 tardy and claimants are impatient. And then tho 
 men of California had so long been thrown upon 
 themselves for the redress of grievances, that they 
 liad acquired the habit of fighting their own battles, 
 deeming a resort to law contemptible petty-fogging. 
 No 1 tlie first, the brawny arm, the knife, tlie re- 
 volver, these were the tools for them 1 Away with 
 law and title deeds; we want not reason, we want the 
 [iroperty 1 
 
 Swarms of squatters settled on every available spot 
 about San Francisco, whether already claimed or not. 
 The sand hills were so fenced in, without regard to 
 roads or regularity, that it was with difficulty a 
 wagon could nicike its way beyond the suburbs in any 
 (iHvction. Fights between claimants were fn quent, 
 women joining the men in their shooting scrapes, and 
 not infrequently officers in the discharge of their du- 
 ties would be threatened. Most of the land at El 
 liincon, that is to say Rincon Point, or Kincon Hill, 
 was held by the government as a reserve. The 
 rnited States leased it for a time to Theodore Sliilla- 
 bcr, who, upon attempting to take possession the 28th 
 of February, 1850, found it covered with squatters, 
 men of Sydney and that class, who refused to pay rent 
 or vacate. Captain Keys tlien in charge at the pre- 
 sidio, detailed twenty soldiers to the place, who de- 
 molished the tents and shanties and drove off the 
 squatters. One of them brought suit against the 
 captain for damages which was dismissed by the 
 court. In July 1853 the sheriff, Johnson, was shot 
 by a squatter while placing in possession the rightful 
 
404 
 
 8QUATTERISM. 
 
 owner of a lot on Mission street ; Union Square was 
 fenced in, and when by order of the niayor the street 
 commissioner attempted to remove it, the claimant 
 drew a pistol but was disarmed before he could use it. 
 It was in a quarrel over a lot on Greenwich street 
 tliat John Baldwin, an old and respected citizt?n, was 
 shot dead by one Hetherington. There was a multi- 
 tude of affairs of this nature, many of which resulted 
 fatally. 
 
 Samuel Brannan in 1851 had deeded the Odd Fel- 
 lows' ground for a cemetery, and by mid-summer 1853 
 squatters swarmed on it. In certain quarters there 
 appeared something like systematic organization with 
 wealth behind appearances. 
 
 It appears that Captain Folsom experienced no 
 little trouble from the squatter. He repeatedly cm- 
 ployed armed bodies of men to clear his property, 
 tear down fences, demolish houces and drive oft' claim- 
 ants. This was a rather arbitrary practise for a 
 whilom government officer; but the courts were slow, 
 nmch slower than gunpowder; and when property was 
 rapidly appreciating and depreciating, lengthy litiga- 
 tions would entail loss even to the winner. A lot on 
 the corner of Mission and Third streets was the scene 
 of a fatal squatter riot about the first of June 1854. 
 Some ten men were engaged on either side. The 
 police were rather inclined to favor the squatters, but 
 they were finally ejected. In this disgraceful aftair 
 two men were killed and five wounded. 
 
 So rank had become this evil that holders of prop- 
 rty under title derived from the city, and others, 
 
 
 )ld a meeting on the 5th of June, 1854, at the offi 
 
 Vi) 
 
 of Theodore Payne and Company, and steps were 
 taken toward the appointment of a special police for 
 the protection of their lots, or in other words, for the 
 organization of a band of fighting men to drive away 
 the squatters. Something of the kind was needed, 
 and, indeed, justifiable, for the squatters had entrenched 
 themselves on Mission street; and threatened havoc 
 
 and def 
 bo mad 
 c'aiJod, i 
 of a sa 
 boon ph 
 ^>oking 
 dated sJi 
 tlius asp 
 '"^' poss( 
 "lootinir 
 at Musici 
 More I 
 street be< 
 tahiing p 
 spread raj 
 ^ lot tliat 
 I'ghtfu] o^ 
 ently squa 
 t^acJi otiicr 
 i^owell, Jfl 
 claimed si 
 coiitendin 
 ^'•iimant. 
 «thor side s 
 and a wom^ 
 loss active 
 and formini 
 promises on 
 ^v'ho march 
 *inels. Th« 
 ^ml drove t 
 «jght before 
 s'on, and na 
 tJiey were ^ 
 ^v'ore then p 
 "Pon the sai 
 It Was th 
 stake ofl^ the 
 
 'g 
 
FIGHTS AND LAW-SUITS. 
 
 and death, fire a!id extermination, should any attempt 
 bo made to expel them. Fort Larkin the place was 
 called, in honor of one of the riniiloaders. The jxallev 
 of a sailing-vessel, perforated with port-holen, had 
 l)oon planted as a fortress on the disputi-d lot, over- 
 looking which, on a sandy eminence, stood a dilapi- 
 dated shanty, the headquarters of the belligerents who 
 thus aspired to become owners of lots by merely tak- 
 ing possession of them. The next day a nmch larg«>r 
 meeting for the suppression of squatterism was held 
 at Musical Hall. 
 
 More and more audacious the squatters t>f Mission 
 street became every day. And the infection for ob- 
 tauiing property without rendering an equivalent 
 spread rapidly over the city. Soon there was scarcely 
 a lot that was not fenced in and guarded, either by its 
 rightful owner or by some wrongful claimant. Pres- 
 tMitly squatter rose up against squatter, and fought 
 each other. On Green street, between Stockton and 
 Powell, James Lick owned a lot which two squatters 
 claimed sinmltaneously. Murphy and Duffy being the 
 contending claimants, and each backed by a sub- 
 claimant. One party erected a fence, and when the 
 other side attem})ted to pull it down, pistols were fired, 
 and a woman and a man shot. The squatters were no 
 less active than their opponents in holding meetings 
 and forming secret associations. Before the dispute*! 
 premises on Mission street armed men were stationed, 
 who marched back and forth night and day like sen- 
 tinels. The authorities at length took the matter up, 
 and drove them away ; but scarcely were they out of 
 sight before the squatters were back again in posses- 
 sion, and nailing up their demolished fences. Finally 
 they were effectually dislodged ; the rightful owners 
 were then placed in possession, and peace again smiled 
 upon the sand-hills. 
 
 It was the fashion of purchasers of water-lots to 
 stake off the limits of their submerged lands and fence 
 them in by means of pile-drivers, paying little regard 
 
 vji 
 
 
i06 
 
 SQUATTERISM. 
 
 to the necessities of sliii)ping or the rights of other 
 claimants. Tiiis custom led to nuiny fights ahnig the 
 city t'nmt, and numberless injunctions and coniplahits 
 in the courts. 
 
 Possession was generally regarded the best title, 
 and to obtain or hold possession a resort to arms was 
 of daily occurrence. In acquiring or maintaining title 
 to the water-lots of Yerba Bucna cove, the pile-driver 
 was an imi)ortant agent; superseding Irishmen, it 
 fenced city blocks in the bay, and if dispossessed, fell 
 back u\Mni strategy to maintain possession. Ac(!rtain 
 block, for example, was wholly enclosed on three sides, 
 and on the fourth the fence of piles was open only 
 sutHcient to admit a vessel. Just within this entrance 
 were stationed two store ships, green water-dragons 
 guarding possession, and keeping the ])ile-driver away 
 from what it had with so nmch difficulty enclosed. 
 Either the vessels nmst be carried by a ptorming party, 
 and the aperture closed by the pile-driver, or they 
 nmst be cut loose and turned adrift hi the dead(»f tlio 
 night. In this instance both devices were used and a 
 loiiii' list of fi<;hts and law-suits followed. 
 
 Hiram J?earson and F. Lawson were, on the 21st 
 of September, 1853, accused before the recorder of 
 assault with deadly weapons while attenn)ting to take 
 possession of a water lot. Pearson was discharge*! 
 and Lawson held for trial. The contending parties, 
 it appears, had fought in boats, one of which, an old 
 hulk called the Bethel, Lawson scuttled, intending to 
 sink it t>n the lot and so maintain possession. Shots 
 were freely fired on both sitles, and attempts made to 
 thn)W each other overboard; but no lives were lost. 
 
 One Pinkham, living in April 1864 at the Potrero, 
 thought to enrich his posterity by driving piles so as 
 to enclose a number of overflowed lots in front of the 
 glass-works. Others caught the infection; lines of 
 piles were driven, and lots enclosed at intervals, from 
 Potrero point halfway to Steandioat point, and again 
 nearly to the mouth of Mission creek. The desire 
 
AFFAIR AT SAN RAFAEL. 
 
 407 
 
 2 1st 
 'X of 
 take 
 
 'ties, 
 old 
 
 [IT to 
 
 lihots 
 Ic to 
 
 ll)St. 
 
 trert), 
 ls(» as 
 If the 
 Ics ot' 
 
 I frolic 
 lira ill 
 lesivo 
 
 for free suburban bomestoads, and water-lots witbout 
 ]tiiy, was always prevalent among tbe land-bungry of 
 San Francisco, and recent grants made by tbe legis- 
 lature seemed to bave fired afresb tbeir insane desires, 
 Tbe water-lots tbus seized belonged to tbe state, and 
 many piles were driven along tbe city front for wbicb 
 tbe greedy grabbers never received visible compensa- 
 tion. 
 
 Tberc was a difficulty in Marin county in August 
 I8r)4, wbicb tbreatened to assume a serious aspect. 
 Ceitain mission lands near San Rafael, wbicb bad 
 been set apart bv^ tbe Mexican autborities for rellijious 
 purposes, were seized and staked oft' by an oi'ganized 
 band of squatters, wbo determined to bold tlie i>rop- 
 crtv tie et ar)nis. One winyr t)f tbe mission buildino;s 
 at San Rafael was, in 184!), used as a cburcb, and tbe 
 «»tlier as couit and jury rooms ; otber apartments were 
 occupied by Mexican families witb tbeir dogs, ]u)gs, 
 and <attle. By order of tbe alcalde, William ]iey- 
 iiolds, tbe city was suiAeyed in 1850 and laid oft' in 
 town lots witb a Mexican title. Tbe price of b)ts was 
 fixed at tbirty dollars eacb, and a day aj)pointed by 
 the alcalde for tbe sale, tbe first a])plicant to receive 
 the first cboice. A great rush was made for lots by 
 tliose wbo bad failed to make tbeir fortunes in San 
 Francisco sand-bills; but tbe town, developing more 
 slowly than was anticipated, many of tbem were al- 
 lowed to fall into tbe bands of tbe tax-»jatberer. Tbe 
 land in dispute bordered upon tbe town, and was j)ait 
 of tbe old mission orcbard and vineyard, wbicb bad 
 been neglect d by tbe cburcb and by its rightful own- 
 ers for niiiuy years, and bad at length fallen a prey to 
 l)ivemi)t(»rs. On the 7tli of August tbe cbuivb party, 
 to the number of al)out twenty-five, apjx^ared against 
 the squatters witb sticks and staves, and drove tbem 
 from tbeir sbores. 
 
 So habituated bad tbe people of California l)ecomo 
 to trusting only to themselves for tbe accomplisbment 
 of their purpose, that mob law became tbe too frecjuent 
 
I 
 
 408 
 
 SQUATTERISM. 
 
 ' 
 
 «: 
 
 ]■' 
 
 arbiter of important civil cases, especially in the set- 
 tlement of squatter disputes, and in swindles affecting 
 the general public. Whatever was wrongfully accom- 
 plished by law, the people who had learned to look 
 upon themselves as above the law, deemed it incum- 
 bent upon them to make right, and this they did in 
 the surest and most direct manner. 
 
 The town of Oakland was thrown into a state of 
 great excitement on the 27th of August, 1853, arising 
 from the claims of Carpeiitier, !Moore, and others t(j 
 the long line of water property along the front. A 
 meeting was held and resolutions passed repudiating 
 these claims, and determining to divide such pro[»crty 
 equitably among the people. This, with the assist- 
 ance of club and pistol, they proceeded to do. Two 
 hundred and fifty citizens signed a pledge Jo ; I 
 by each other at all hazards. Then at it thvy went. 
 Business was suspended; fighting was free to ail; and 
 the result was that Carpentier's men were beaten and 
 ignominiously driven from the field. 
 
 Nowhere did the energy and audacity of the squat- 
 ters assume greater proj)ortions than on the lands of 
 John A. Sutter, in the Sacramento vallev. Sutter's 
 claim was beyond all question valid. He was the j)io- 
 neer in this rej^ion. He had r< reived from the Mex- 
 ican autliorities a genuine grant, m due time confirnud 
 bv tlie United States ijovernment He built a fort, 
 cultivated the soil, and raised flocks and herds. If 
 there were anywhere rights and conditions entitled to 
 res[)ect by innnigrants, they were here present. 
 
 The 14th of August, 1850, witnessed a serious 
 aflra J' between the citizens and an organized band of 
 squatters composed of emigrants who had taken ui> 
 claims on unoccupied lands in and adjoining Sacra- 
 mento. It apjwars that a case had lately been tried 
 and decided against the squatters, the judge denying 
 an appeal. This decision, together with what they 
 deemed an illegal attempt on the part of an inferior 
 court "^o make it final, fo exasperated the squatte ^ 
 
 that 
 gove 
 obey 
 witJi 
 tJie d 
 inouii 
 to th( 
 ]'risor 
 one ()) 
 An 
 a ]arg( 
 demon 
 cials u 
 Jace, tJ 
 assesso 
 iiiortali 
 his su] 
 TJie les 
 fiiialJv ( 
 Xext d 
 in tJie c 
 i"g sue] 
 saloon t 
 f^quattor 
 eral nx 
 sJierifi 
 tors tak 
 governo] 
 iiiihtia t< 
 tlie riot, 
 deinned ( 
 inir.st uj 
 taking u 
 ^JiiTo a]) 
 f"i'Mia wa 
 and Hex; 
 to arijis V 
 SucJi, I 
 ^••ot of I 
 
 )( 
 
 ^1 if' 
 1 I 
 
BLOODY AFFRAY IN SACRAMENTO. 
 
 409 
 
 that they held a mass meeting, and declared the state 
 government unlawful and the authorities not to be 
 obeyed. Two of their number were arrested, charged 
 with rebellion, and lodged in the prison brig. On 
 tlie day above mentioned forty armed men, under a 
 mounted leader, marched through the streets down 
 to the prison brig for the purpose of releasing the 
 lirisonors, and also to recover certain lumber of which 
 one of their number had been dispossessed. 
 
 Arrived at the levee thev found close at their heels 
 a lanjce crowd hooting at them, and makin*; warlike 
 demonstrations. The mayor, sheriff, and other offi- 
 cials were on the spot. Closely ])ressed by the j)opu- 
 lace, the squatters wheeled and fired. Tlie mayor, 
 assessor, and a dozen others were struck, several 
 mortally. The fire was returned by the sheriff and 
 his supporters, and continued for about an hour. 
 The leader of the squatters was killed and the band 
 filially dispersed. Thus far five or six only were dead. 
 Next day the sheriff with about twenty men set out 
 in the direction of the fort f«)r the purpose of arrest- 
 ing such squatters as they could find. Stop})ing at a 
 saloon to drink, the sheriff's party was fired upon by 
 scjuatters concealed in an adjoining room, and a gen- 
 eral melee ensued, in which three, including the 
 slieriff, were killed, several wounded, and four squat- 
 ters taken prisoners. On receipt of the news, the 
 gfjvernor, then at San Jose, ordered a brigade of 
 militia to proceed to Sacramento and assist in quelling 
 the riot. This uprising of the squatters was con- 
 demned on all sides; a torrent of pul>lic indignation 
 !»urst upon them from all })arts of the state. For 
 taking up arms against the constituted authorities, 
 there appeared no justification, no palliation. Cali- 
 fornia was not yet a state; the titli'S to })ublic lands 
 and Mexican grants were ill understood, but a resort 
 to arms was not the way to settle them. 
 
 Such, briefly, was the great Sacramento s([uatter 
 riot of 1850. The squatter party was composed 
 
 ill 
 
 il il 
 
' 
 
 I. i 
 I I 
 
 410 
 
 SQUATTERISM. 
 
 chiefly of iininigrants f.'orn the western states, where 
 Spanish grants were unknown. Schooled in the cl(x?- 
 trine that all unoccupied American soil is free, they 
 knew and cared to know nothinij of the land laws 
 other than the laws of preemption ; and to be driven 
 from their lots by speculators claiming under the 
 Sutter title was unbearable tyranny. 
 
 The trouble had long been brewing. Much feeling 
 prevailed during the winter of 1849-50, and the 
 squatter element then lacked only a leader openly to 
 resist Sach a spirit at length appeared under the 
 name of Dr Robinson, who was seconded by one 
 M ihoney. One of the squatters had bec^n ejected 
 ti\e authorities, and two arrested as before men- 
 ti./ned. Meanwhile the squatters had been collecting 
 army and ammunition with which to oppose the exe- 
 cution of the law. Robinson was arrested, passed 
 the form of trial, and was released. Not h^ng after 
 he was elected to the legislature from Sacramento 
 county, an act on the part of the people significant of 
 their sj-mpjithy. 
 
 An organized band of squatters, some eighty in 
 number, who had taken up claims on an island in 
 Feather river, kno vn as the Jimeno grant, told the 
 deputy United Statos marshal, who in May, 1853, 
 was attempting to sei ve certain summons, that they 
 had contributed $3,000. with which to defend the 
 suit, that they were now carrying it to the supronu' 
 court, and if they lost it there they should then fight. 
 They told the officer, moreover, that if he attempted 
 to serve his summons they would kill him. The mar- 
 shal retired and took the boat for San Francisco. 
 Stop])ing at a wood-yard, he learned that the proprie- 
 tor, Holiday, was one of the persons for whom he had 
 a summons. The marshal delivered the writ and be- 
 gan to read the summons, when he was interruptt d 
 with, "Waal, I suppose I may as well kill you now as 
 any time," at the same time receivhig on his arm, 
 which he had thrown up to protect his head, a blow 
 
SANTA BARBARA AND HEALDSBURO. 
 
 411 
 
 which, had it not missed its aim, would have killed 
 him. Being unarmed, and unable to pnjcure a 
 weapon on board, the officer was obliged to return 
 without having accomplisiied his purpose. 
 
 In May 1853, one of the frequent disputes arose as 
 to the possession of a certain piece of land at Santa 
 Barbara. Jack Powers had settled upc^n a tract 
 about two miles from town, which Nicholas Den 
 claimed to have leased for a number of years from the 
 government. The case was decided in Den's favor in 
 the district court, and afterward in the suprcn;e court. 
 Nevertheless, Powers refused to give up possession, 
 claiming that as it was government property, it was 
 free f:o all American citizens. Sheriff Twist deter- 
 mined to eject him by force. Powers then collected 
 fifteen of his friends, and formed a sort of barricade 
 on the rancho, by felling trees, piling up logs, and ar- 
 ranging wagons for the purpose. They had liquors 
 and food provided for a number of days, and several 
 |)ieces of nmsic to enliven the time. Well armed 
 with revolvers, rifles, and shot-guns they were pre- 
 pared to resist the officers. Three of Powers' adher- 
 ents, on the way to his place, encountered the sheriff 
 and others, who were trying to take out the spikes 
 that had been put in the cannon the previous night. 
 Words ensued as to their intended use of the cannon, 
 which resulted in a serious melee with several 
 wounded and some killed on both sides. 
 
 Not less than 200 men, squatters on the Fitch, the 
 Pena, and the Berreyesa grants, situated about 
 Hcaldsburg on Russian river, banded for mutual pro- 
 tection in movements defensive and aggressive. 
 Sonoma and Santa Rosa valleys in common with al- 
 most all parts of the state covered with Mexican 
 grants, have been the scenes of repeated assassinations 
 and outbreaks, of which I give n instance. In April 
 iS58 fifty armed men attacked the government sur- 
 veyor, Tracy, then acting under instructions issued 
 by Mandeville, surveyor general, seized and tore in 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 
 5 1,1 
 
i 
 
 412 
 
 SQUATTERISM. 
 
 pieces his papers, and informed him if he valued liis 
 life he would drop that business and go home, which 
 Tracy was very glad to be able to do. The band then 
 rode to the house of Pena, where Lugo, one of the 
 owners of a large tract, was stopping and forced him 
 under threats of han<xinir to siijn an article of release 
 of title to certain lands, and also to innnediatelv and 
 forever retire from those parts. Next the mob i>n)- 
 ceeded to Healdsburg, distant from the former frolie 
 about six miles, in search of Dr Frlsbie, a landholder 
 whom they proposed to force into the relinquishment 
 of his title to a portion of his lands. The citizens 
 rallied to the support of law and government, and 
 though the squatters threatened to burn the town, 
 held their ground, and the free-land men retired. 
 
 At Suisun in December 1862 certain squatters 
 against whom John B. Frisbie had obtained judg- 
 ment, and a writ of restitution, refused to vacate 
 when ordered to do so by the sheriff; whereupon that 
 officer summoned to his aid a posse, and marched 
 against them when they yielded. 
 
 The original proprietors of Boise city, Idaho, 
 bought the town site from ranchmen who had settled 
 there, surveying it and laying it out in town lots ; to 
 every one who wished to build a dwelling they gave 
 a piece of ground. Busuiess lots they sold. All 
 went well until in the autumn of 1864, a judge and 
 two lawyers dropped upon the place and then l)egan 
 lot-jumping and litigation. 
 
 In some way the sentiment got abroad that the 
 proprietor's title was valueless, that the ground on 
 which the city was built was public domain, and that 
 any one might settle on an}' unoccupied spot. Then 
 the two lawyers revelled in fat. Those who had 
 taken possession of their neighbor's property, hoping 
 to get something for nothing, after submitting to ex- 
 pensive litigations were obliged to step down from 
 their position and leave the land to its original occu- 
 pants and their successors. 
 
 Lov 
 
 saiiit. 
 other ] 
 eccentr 
 '•le enc 
 Was gi\ 
 
 T 
 , ( 
 
 I'lanci.s 
 nestle t 
 witli P 
 'SpanisJi 
 'is proi 
 self to 1 
 tile chuil 
 isli crow 
 "f Quin 
 tin, like 
 Mas ver\ 
 other ii 
 killing f( 
 It has 
 Quintln 
 ^Spaniard 
 'ity of SI 
 durum; 
 iinr for 
 
 Jjhorigina 
 
 ( 
 
 I 
 
1;^ 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 PACIFIC COAST PRISONS. 
 Such prisons are beyond all liberty. 
 
 — SnrMituj. 
 
 Lovely San Qucntin 1 Saint thief I Thief and no 
 srtiiit. Saint and the dwelling place of thieves and 
 otlicr malefactors. The name and the naminij were 
 (Hcontric and mongrel, though, as it turned out, suita- 
 lilr enough, even considenng that to Spanish "San" 
 was <civen a foreijin " Qucntin." 
 
 To explain. Round that bright corner of San 
 Francisco bay, where under the shadow of Tanialpais 
 nestle the coves of Corte de !Madera and San Rafael, 
 witli Punta de Quintin, as the point was called in 
 S])an*ish times, bet^yeen them, there once roamed with 
 his ])eople a native chieftain, who, on allowijig him- 
 self to be sprinkled on the head, and made a son of 
 tlk' church, as well as an humble vassal of the S[)an- 
 isli crown, was honored by the padre with the name 
 if Quintin, after one of the saints. Now, this Quin- 
 tin, like others we luivc known possessing Christianity, 
 was very far from a Christian's ideal in his raids and 
 dtlier innnoral practises, inasmuch as stealing and 
 killing formed parts of his programmes. 
 
 It has been clahned that the point was called San 
 Quintin in remembrance of a victory won by the 
 Sjumiards over the French in 1547, in front of the 
 city of San Quintin, the ancient Augusta Veroman- 
 d< "rum ; but there is no evidence of that being a fact ; 
 nor for placing San before Quintin. It was the 
 aboriginal non-sanctus after whom it was named. 
 
 (413 J 
 
 if 
 
 .it 
 
 
 irii 
 
 t 
 
 SJ /'i 
 
414 
 
 PArlFIC COAST rRlSONS. 
 
 Woird and hobgoblin were the uses and purposes, as 
 "Well as the name and naming of the enchanted spot. 
 From the ocean tlie rough breezes como tcmi>cred by 
 warm airs rising from sutmy meadows, while the fog- 
 banks, filtered by the wooded slopes, wrap the tnirsty 
 earth in gentle moisture. Glorious indeed the view 
 toward the east; the pliant sparkling water, the 
 smooth billowy hills, and the shoaled and islotcd 
 shore winding between; while beyond, old Diablo, 
 winks and blinks and nods as in uncouth wooing of 
 the gorgeous wealth of beauty at its feet. 
 
 A rare retreat, truly, for those whose lives are de- 
 voted to the laborious occupation of unjustly appro- 
 priating to their own use the property of others. 
 Alasl that man should be obliged to shackle his 
 fellow-man ; that society after feeding and clothing 
 from boyhood scoundrels who never in all their lives 
 did one blow of honest or beneficial work, after pro- 
 nouncin<j: a formal condemnation should be obliijcd to 
 lodge and feed and clothe them, in lots of hundreds 
 and thousands for years and often for the remainder 
 of their lives. Yet they would say how hard the 
 devil drives his servants! 
 
 Before San Quentin was, there were villains ; but 
 never have they been so well housed on these Pacific 
 shores; that is to say, those who have been publicly 
 housed at all. Time was when this charmed shore 
 of California played its role as a sort of penal settle- 
 ment for a society rich in rascality. Mexico sent 
 hither her criminals with the double intent, as lur 
 authorities had the assurance to say, of improving 
 their morals and increashig the population of Califor- 
 nia ; and to the petition for a lessening of the evil, to 
 send only useful convicts, since California had no 
 jails, no heed was paid for several years. Then, and be- 
 fore, and since, were presidios for prisons, and mission- 
 ary buildings for guard-houses. In those days class, 
 and caste, and character entered largely into prison 
 etiquette. Some convicts enjoyed the liberty of a 
 
PRISON BRIOS. 
 
 415 
 
 free citizen, living on a ranclio or in the pueblo; others 
 were restricted to certain districts, or ct)nfined within 
 l)()undaries; while yet others were doomed to shackles 
 and liard labor under su^iervision of the garrison. 
 In tliose da_y8 it was small pain to be a great villain, 
 though woeful to sin lightly. 
 
 Among the gold hunters, the ships that brought 
 tliein out were sometimes turned into jails and peni- 
 tentiaries under the name of prison brigs. San Fran- 
 cisco boasted t)ne of these, as likewise did Sacramento. 
 Tlic Enplicmia, as the pristm brig of San Francisco 
 was called, was purchased about the first of August, 
 1841), with the first money appropriated In' tlie town 
 council, elected by order of General Klley. This 
 was tlie first regularly appointed place of confinement 
 where rogues and convicts were kept in custody. 
 
 When the old Euphcinia proved inadequate to the 
 rapidly increasing demand for prison facilities, other 
 liulks were added to the prison service; and thus 
 matters stood when in April, 1851, an act was passed 
 l>y the legislature appointing a board of inspectors 
 and giving James M. Estill, with wliom was associated 
 ^[. G. Yallejo, a contract for the control of the state 
 jiison, prisoners, and hulks for a term of ten years. 
 
 The time was one of dear labor and eccentric en- 
 terprise ; and it was thought to be a grand thing if 
 tl e institution could be made self-supporting, and 
 tlie prisoners be obliged to work for their bread. In 
 this way the state would be relieved from the expense 
 of cjuardiuij and mahitaininij its felons. But the 
 government soon saw that it had committed a most 
 egregious error. The abuses were manifold and fla- 
 grant. Public weal was soon dropped out of the 
 management, and innnediate j)tcuniary profit became 
 tlic dominant purpose. Such of the prisoners as it 
 was found profitable co keep at work, were kept at 
 hard labor from daylight till dark, Sundays and other 
 (lays, chopping wood, making brick, or performing 
 contracts m which such kind of servitude was found 
 
 1 
 
 ' ,)i 
 
 \^^\\ 
 
4ie 
 
 PACIFIC COAST PRISONS. 
 
 remunerative. The rest were permitted to escape. 
 On one occasion, while a prison brig was lying at 
 Angel island, the men at work and their guardians 
 lolling in the cabin, the convicts quietly turned the 
 key on them, and escapnig to the adjacent mainland 
 betook themselves to the woods. 
 
 It soon became aj^parent that the hulk system failed 
 to meet the requirements, and that ground nmst be 
 selected and substantial buildings erected. The year 
 following, namely, in A})ril 1852, a bill passed the 
 legislature providing for the erection of a state prison 
 on the site purchased at Point Quintin. 
 
 Even then the stone building which soon arose 
 failed to accommodate all, nor would the interests of 
 the contractors allow prisoners to be confined to one 
 locality. Hulks were still used at diH'erent points. 
 Men were likewise sent in squads under feeble guards 
 to farms and woods ; many convicts were even dcs- 
 ])atched unguarded to distant places. Great partiality 
 was shown, thereby facilitating the escape of many a 
 scoundrel. 
 
 Still matters were for from prosperous ; and so clam- 
 orous became the public, that in 1855 the legislatun^ 
 revoked the contract with Estill, and declared his 
 lease forfeited. The state then assumed the manajxe- 
 ment. A board of directors was appointed, and a 
 strong wall twenty feet high, was thrown round the 
 j)rison premises. In 1856, politics being more power- 
 ful than public weal, and as a reward for his for- 
 mer unfaithfulness, a fresh contract was made with 
 the same Estill, with new restrictive conditions. He 
 was to safely keep and maintain the state prisoneis 
 for the term of five years at a compensation of $10,000 
 a 3'ear. So favorable to the lessee was this contract 
 that Estill was enabled almost immediately to assign 
 it to one McCauley at half the compensation allowed 
 him. 
 
 The principle was now a grinding one ; prison man- 
 agement meant simply money. Abuses were ranker 
 
rENITENTIARY msCirLINE. 
 
 ill 
 
 tlian ever ; so much so that in 1858 govoriiniont nn;aiii 
 (K'claivtl tlio contract aiiuullcd, and took forcible jtos- 
 si'ssion of tlic promises. Tlie lieutenant-governor was 
 iiiaile ex-ofticio warden, with a full staff, and the keys 
 delivered to him. The assiL'nee broujxht suit for dam- 
 ages which was sustained by the supreme couil. A 
 compromise was agreed U[)on, but the statt; failed to 
 meet its obligation. At last, in 1800, to get rid of 
 him. a bonus was paid the assignee, since which time, 
 if we except several extensive escai)es, state-prison 
 iiiaiiagement has steadily improved. 
 
 Prison discipline, penitentiary science, uniting with 
 tlie system of reformatory efforts, are of late begin- 
 ning. The castle donjons of the feudal barons had 
 improved but little when civilization had largely ad- 
 vanced hi other directions. The eigliteenth century 
 had well-nigh gone before Howard made liis fanums 
 ('X|ioso of the wretch(Kl condition of prisons in England 
 and Wales, and the great Millbank penitentiary, mod- 
 oli'd by Jeremy Bentham, had not been built more 
 than tliirty years when the grounds at Quintin Point 
 wt'ie laid out; so that California, although the young- 
 est of the great societies, is not so far behind the rest 
 of the world in this regard as might be imagined. 
 
 In almost all modern prisons industrial labor lias 
 taken the place of purely ]>enal labor, such as the 
 crank, shot-drill, and treadmill. All well-managed 
 juisons are now self-sui)porting, or more than self- 
 sui>i)orting Each prisoner, immediately he is 
 incarcerated, whether in a state " penitentiary or 
 a county prison, should be put to work. Jails 
 should not be conducted upon the free-boarduig- 
 lunisi' principle, but convicts s-i' nJ.d be made to earn 
 their living, or as nearly so as possible. There are 
 things useful that even children can do; and if the 
 fodil of the prisoner depended somewhat upon his 
 earnings, it might tend to sharpen his wits over use- 
 ful work. 
 
 Cal. 1st. I'oc. 27 
 
 , '4\ 
 
418 
 
 PACIFIC COAST PRISONS. 
 
 Thero arc different systems of on mannircniriit 
 ill the United States. In all state-prisons tlie cnn- 
 tract system prevails, with .some half d»)zen exceptions ; 
 some are under state manat^ement, and some niixcd. 
 Several states show earnint^s amounting to more tlian 
 expenses. In North Carolina the averai^e cost of 
 inaiiitahiini; prisoners per capita in 1 875 was about !?:m). 
 while in Oregon it was over $300, and in Nevaila 
 nearly $400. 
 
 In the average number of prisoners San QutMitiii 
 with 1>00 or thereabouts, stands sixth. Sing Sing, in 
 New York with 1300 being first, Auburn, New Yoik. 
 and Joliet, Illinois, with a few less, behig second and 
 third. Nevada can scarcely boast of 100, while the 
 average of Oretjon is but little more. 
 
 The prison managers of 1877 complain that Clii- 
 nese cheap labor is ruining the penitentiary ! TIic 
 law permits convicts to be hired out at the rate of 
 fifty cents a day. At twenty-five cents a day cnn- 
 tractors could employ them, but not at more than 
 this, as otherwise Ch' • labor is preferable. There 
 is a state prison at 1 a\. More facilities are re- 
 quired either at San Quentin, Folsom, or elsewluio. 
 
 The prison tract at San Quentin com)>riscs i;)0 
 acres. The situation is extremely favorable ; the 
 soil first recommended it, being good clay for bricks. 
 The prison itself covers a square of six acres, enclosed 
 bv a wall now twenty-five feet high. Outside are a 
 number of buildings for offices, stables, and outhouses. 
 with a few ijarden patches. The warden's villa lies 
 on an elevation near by. Inside the wall are three rell 
 buildings of several stories, parallel to one anothtr, 
 and twenty feet apart. Two are of brick 124 by -''' 
 feet, and erected in 1864 at a cost of $60,000 eaeli. 
 There was $200,000 appropriated by the legislature 
 of 1876 for new buildings, and a four-story l-rick 
 structure 50 by 400 feet was the result. 
 
 With the exception of the lower story of the storo 
 buildhig, which is divided into seven large rooms, 
 
 with r 
 
 lioned 
 
 l»y fou 
 
 passage 
 
 tiek. t\\ 
 
 '•(■sides, 
 
 tides, a 
 
 The I 
 
 rics. oiie 
 
 whole h 
 
 the irrcj 
 
 tlie cent] 
 
 ♦It'll, wit 
 
 desei't. 
 
 A nun 
 
 )dt; sen 
 
 "ig muzzl 
 
 tions. \1 
 
 narrow ti 
 
 i^iiard Jioi 
 
 «i'«o situ 
 
 J,'all()ns. 
 
 Convict 
 
 •UK I to JU( 
 
 ^^ rather i 
 
 new arriv, 
 
 measured, 
 
 agination 
 
 case (,f es 
 
 i^"'form, ai 
 
 A. secom 
 
 ^^ the ha 
 
 ''''">lvct-tos 
 '■^'xl iiijign 
 
 Illeiit. fh( 
 
 •''"^"1 release 
 ^vlio shows 
 '^if;'ravated 
 ^^'in not say 
 
SAN QUENTIN. 
 
 419 
 
 witli rows of bunks, the rest of tlio floors arc parti- 
 tioiK'cl into (loul)lo lines of cells, chieflv nine feet loiiir 
 Itv four wulo, and eijjfht high, opening tui a central 
 passago. The cells eontiiin ono to two bunks, a straw 
 tick, two pairs of blankets and a bucket. Many are, 
 lit sides, neatly furnished with tables, stools, toilet ar- 
 ticles, and ornaments made or bought by the inmate. 
 
 The block also contains workshops of several sto- 
 ries, one costing $130,000, and a number of offices; the 
 wliole having rather a patchy appearance owing to 
 the irrciLiular additions made at various times. In 
 the centre Is an open space cultivated as a Hower gar- 
 bled, with a hewn stone fountain — an oasis in the 
 desert. 
 
 A number of yjuards arc on the watch atjainst re- 
 volt; sentinels patrol upon the walls; and the frown- 
 iii;jj muzzles of primed guns api>ear in different direc- 
 tions. Upon the two parallel hills which enclose the 
 narrow tract tKere are, besides, several stations or 
 ;iuard houses with grape-charged cannon. There are 
 also situated the prison reservoirs, one of 250,000 
 gallons. A large l)rick yartl borders on the bay. 
 
 Convicts are brought hither by country sheriffs; 
 and to judge by the mileage allowed, the task nmst 
 be rather attractive to the more di.stant otticials. The 
 new arrival is conducted to the turnkey's office to be 
 measured, and to undergo a physical and moral ex- 
 amination for fitness, for place, and identification in 
 case of escape; whereupon he receives the striped 
 uniform, and his hair is clipped very short. 
 
 A second and less agreeable initiation awaits him 
 at the hands of the old residents, consisting of 
 hlaiiket-tossing, rail-riding, and other persecutions 
 and indignities, regulated according to his tempera- 
 ment. Those who take the fun in good humor are 
 scxtn released and become favorites. But woe to him 
 wlio shows obstinacy or cowardice ; his sufferings are 
 aggravated and prolonged in proportion ; complaints 
 will not save him. 
 
 I 
 
 ' ri\ 
 
 I. 
 
420 
 
 PACIFIC COAST PRISONS. 
 
 The life of prisoners is not so severe as might bo 
 expected. The bell rouses them at five to seven a. m., 
 according to the season, and ten minutes later tlie 
 cells are opened by the turnkey, permitting the nun 
 to roam in the yard for half an hour. Fifteen niiu- 
 utes are allowed for breakfast, and then on to work- 
 shops, brickyard, or offices. 
 
 The signal for dinner is given at half past 11 o'clock. 
 Those who possess tea or coffee are given facilities to 
 prepare the beverage, and at a sign the men fall into 
 line for the dining-room, where two rows of tables 
 groan under the abundant rations of meat and bread, 
 with soup ad libitum. The turnkey overlooks the 
 hungry army from behind an elevated desk, and gives 
 the order to be seated. All are now on the qui vive 
 for the next signal, to begin eating, which is obeyed 
 with a will. Silence prevails, broken only by the oc- 
 casional clatter of spoons, with which the more par- 
 ticular have provided themselves, for the dangerous 
 knives and forks have been replaced by the more nat- 
 ural implements of the paradise era. A last rap 
 closes the banquet, and the convicts march out wUli 
 abated eagerness, removing the glossy evidence of the 
 tooth and nail combat by a complacent wrist 
 movement. 
 
 The supper call is at half-past four, after which all 
 are locked in. Those who have lamps or candles may 
 read, play, or work, till nine, when lights are extin- 
 guished, except on the lower story, where they burn 
 all night to reveal any attempts at boring the wall. 
 
 The work was largely in the hands of contractors, 
 manufacturers of furniture, saddles, shoes, clotirui;,^ 
 cigars, barrels, bricks, etc., each of whom emi^^loyt'd 
 from 25 to 200 men. The prison provides all tlie 
 needed shops, power, and guard. The custom of 
 sending gangs to work outside the prison has been 
 much restricted. 
 
 Task work is most common, and on completing his 
 share the convict may while away the time, cr, l>y 
 
 f( K )i 
 
 SUV 
 
 1 
 
 ch.ij 
 
 men 
 
 ea-jft 
 
 rout 
 
 orn^a 
 
 A 
 
 some 
 
 educ£ 
 
 sever 
 
 fees o: 
 
 anion 1 
 
 visitoi 
 
 TJli; 
 
 soniew 
 
 its moi 
 
 •iiid thj 
 
 some 
 
 ^e:,^1rd( 
 
 aithouf 
 
 taMisb 
 «in(l wa 
 
 TJlO UK 
 
 teraet 
 cniui;, 
 must 
 tJio jiun 
 prisons 
 Won,,, in 
 Calif; 
 
 a Veiy |. 
 
 cuous in 
 
 <'e(le(| 01 
 
 J,''"nMini 
 
ROUTINE AND ATTRACTIO^'^S, 
 
 m 
 
 extra work, earn money wherewith to purcliase better 
 food, and articles of luxury, even daily papers. Many 
 save considerable sums. 
 
 The upper floor of one of the buildings forms the 
 chapel, where sabbath service is conducted by clergy- 
 iiKu volunteers to audiences of 300 to 500 men, who 
 eajjjerly welcome any change in the monotony of their 
 routine. Among the attractions are a fair choir, and an 
 organ purchased by contributions from the prisoners. 
 
 After service a few of the talented convicts instruct 
 some 250 companions in rudimentary branches, an 
 educational process which is fostered by a library of 
 several thousand well-thumbed volumes, and by the 
 fees of visitors. Literary entertainments are arranged 
 among them, and, at times, lectures are delivered by 
 visitors. 
 
 This is not a very repulsive picture of a prison, 
 somewhat different from the Labyrinth of Cnosus with 
 its monster and starvation, or the dreary eryastula, 
 and tlie Jullianum with its deadly fumes, or the loath- 
 some dungeons of the middle aijes. Yet the ancients 
 regarded prisons merely as places of detention, and, 
 altliough Plato advocated penal and penitentiary es- 
 tahlishments, the second phase developed very slowly, 
 and was accepted in France only after the revolution. 
 Tlie more recent knowledge of the necessity to coun- 
 teract the tending of prisons to become schools for 
 crime, and the introduction of reformatory systems, 
 nmst be traced to the noble efforts of Howard, and 
 the Immane crusades of Fry, while the idea of making 
 prisons self-supporting finds its origin in the political 
 economy problems of our era. 
 
 California has not yet had time or moans to develop 
 a very perfect system. The one great evil is promis- 
 cuous intercourse, whereby the young and less corrupt 
 are exposed to the contagious influence of the har- 
 dened criminal, and the want of an efficient check on 
 gamhlnig and other vices, as maybe learned from the 
 roi»orts of the connnittees. 
 
 
'0lt' 
 
 PACIFIC COAST PRISONS. 
 
 Good conduct is promoted by a credit of five days 
 in the month to every prisoner, witli an hicrease of 
 one day every two years, till the allowance reaches 
 ten days. This is deducted from his term of ser- 
 vitude. Pardons are also held out besides other 
 rewards. 
 
 Punishment has become more humane, and consists 
 mainly in reducing privileges and good -conduct time. 
 IJesperate characters wear chahi and ball, and are 
 prohibited from holding intercourse. The lash which 
 was once applied for all offences, and periodically to 
 captured fugitives, has almost fallen into disuse, and 
 so has the dark dungeon, although both remain to 
 inspire a salutary terror. Flogging was also admin- 
 istered with a long paddle-formed board, with perfora- 
 tions, through which tlie flesh was forced by every 
 blow. Even more feared than this was the torture by 
 water, which consisted of a jet played upon the 
 mouth and nose of the victim. So severe was tliis 
 punishment that if the same jet were let fall upon 
 the stomach it would cause death. 
 
 Tlie numerous attempts at escape form interesting 
 episodes of prison history. The thought of liberty 
 here swallows all other thought, and life itself appears 
 the inferior gift of heaven, as Drydcn puts it. The 
 great leisure enjoyed allows the mhid ample time to 
 fondle the alluring hope ; to dwell upon the many 
 records of fellow-prisoners who have with varying 
 success scaled the walls, filed bars, undermined cells, 
 assumed disguises, or otherwise hoodwhiked the 
 guard ; and to evolve plans worthy of a Dtedalus, 
 attended by equally daring exploits. 
 
 The most famous stampede was that of Jul} --, 
 1862, when a general outbreak took place, owing 
 immediately, it was claimed, to the starvation regime 
 of Commissary Jones. 
 
 Nothing occurs to arouse suspicion although the 
 plot muat be widely known. The dinner hour has passed 
 
A SAN QUENTIN ESCAPE. 
 
 423 
 
 and a gang of over 100 convicts is marching through 
 the gate in the rear of the prison, when sut!denly some 
 fifteen separate from the rest and rush for the front 
 ^ate, securing the guard. Lieutenant-governor Chel- 
 lis notices the movement from his office, and hastens 
 for safety to the adjoining bedroom, but the door is 
 broken in, and he is brought forth to give orders to 
 the gate-keeper to surrender the keys. The order is 
 given but the keeper bravely refuses to comply, as- 
 sertuig that they are not in his possession, but the 
 convicts are not to be deceived ; a struggle ensues ; 
 tlie keys are snatched fr-nn him and the gates thrown 
 <>l)cn amidst shouts of liberty. The cry is echoed by 
 the crowd, amidst a general rush to join the leaders 
 regardless of the volleys from the guards. The men 
 from the workshops bring their axes, files, and other 
 tools, while others storm the armory, overlooking a 
 case of sabres in their hurry, and obtainnig only one 
 loaded revolver, besides uncharged pistols and some 
 other arms. 
 
 Two to three hundred convicts have now passed 
 tlie gate bearing the governor of the prison with 
 thorn, but of these fifty are quickly secured by the 
 captain of the guard, while the rest proceed in a body 
 along the wall to station 5 on the hill. The guard 
 stands ready to sweep th«ir column with grapi - 
 shot; but the convicts are prepared; the captured 
 goverFior is placed at the front to serve as shield, with 
 a loaded pistol at his head to remind him of the func- 
 tion. "For God's sake don't shoot 1" exchiiins the 
 victim with uplifted hands. There is no time for hes- 
 itation ; the guard turns the gun, discharges it into 
 the water, and spikes it. This is more than they had 
 expected, for the gun had been counted upon to silence 
 the next one upon the adjoining hill. In thei» oxas- 
 l»eration they reproduce the Tarpeian tragedy, and 
 Kun with carriage follow the guard m his whi'-iiiig de- 
 
 SClMlt. 
 
 Their path now lies across the brickyard to station 
 
 
424 
 
 PACIFIC COAST PRISONS. 
 
 10. Several volleys flash against them from the guns, 
 but pass over their heads, so directed, no doubt, out 
 of regard for the governor. The guard in pursuitare 
 almost equally discriminating. 
 
 In this way the main body advances along the Corte 
 de Madera road, toward Mouiit Tamalpais, plunderiui; 
 the houses in their way of every thing portable, although 
 not without expressing regrets at the unavoidable ne- 
 cessity. Indeed, they are polite enough to leave the 
 governor his watch, remarking that it would be too 
 mean to commit detailed robbery after stealing his 
 whole person. Their patience, however, is sorely tried 
 by his corpulency, which is becoming an obstacle to 
 progress, despite the frequent reminders api)lied to 
 his body in the form of knife-prods. A wild, bare- 
 backed pony is produced to accelerate his motion, but 
 either the weight or earnest entreaties of the governor 
 save him from the dreaded ride. 
 
 At four p. M. a slough is reached, and the panting 
 hostage is compelled with the rest to wade chin-deep 
 in the miry water. On gaining the high fence beyond, 
 his slimy corpulency is found too heavy to be hoisted 
 over, and is released. This act is suicidal, for the 
 guards are no longer restrained by his presence, and 
 resume firing with telling eft'ect. 
 
 By this time the news of the outbreak hai spread 
 far and wide, and aware of the danger to life and proi)- 
 erty, every able-bodied man in the San Rafael district 
 who can lay his hands upon a weapon and a horse 
 musters for the chase. About 200 well-equipped men 
 close in upon the gang. Behig comparatively unarnud 
 the convicts find resistance useless, and the affair be- 
 comes a ixanio of hide and seek. Bv twiliijht nearly 
 the whole nundier is secured, and at eiyrht p. m. the 
 prison gate closes behind them. 
 
 ^Meanwhile a side-play lias been performed on the 
 bay. A party of a dozen fugitives or so, whose dilut(<l 
 Viking blood still tingles to the harp of Necken, liavf 
 boarded the prison sloop Pike Coiinty. The hawsers 
 
ANOTHER ATTEMPTED ESCAPR 
 
 425 
 
 are cut amid a whiz of bullets ; the distance from the 
 wharf is rapidly increasuig, and so are their aspira- 
 t i< >ns ; but, alas 1 one thing has been left out of account ; 
 tlie non-consulted mistletoe proves in this instance to 
 1)0 a treacherous mud-bank, and hope, their Baldur, 
 fulls. 
 
 The first roll-call showed over thirty missing but 
 this imnibcr was reduced to less than a dozen by sub- 
 sequent captures. Ten were killed and thirty wounded. 
 
 On receiving the first exaggerated accounts, the 
 chief v>f police at San Francisco obtained full powers 
 from the governor. He engaged a steamer, and 
 arrived on the sjx)t at five o'clock the following morn- 
 ing, with a body of armed citizens, but nothing re- 
 mained to be done. The Sacramento Ranjiers were 
 also turned out for the pursuit. A reward of fifty 
 dollars was offered for each fugitive. 
 
 On Saturday April 2, 1864, a determined attempt 
 at flight was made by a gang composed chiefly of 
 Mexicans, under the leadership of Tom King. One 
 jiar+y, engaged in unloading, broke from the work 
 ckiring the afternoon, ami began to scale the wall. 
 The guard fired, but twenty -three succeeded in gain- 
 ing the brick-yard, where another party joined them. 
 The fu<j:itives armed themselves with stones and 
 bricks, and attacked station 4, evidently with a view 
 to (•a})ture the gun and turn it to account. The 
 four guards at this point found that the guns would 
 iutt work, spiked it, and rushed for the guard-house; 
 hut only two reached it, for the next moment the 
 convicts had possession of the place, and sent the 
 other two whirling over the embankment. The ad- 
 vantage was momentary onl}'; the gun on the otlier 
 side opened fire, and the guard came charging on 
 lioise and foot. In twenty minutes the capt(»rs 
 of the Imttery surrendered and were conducted to 
 tlioir cells, with a loss of five killed and a number of 
 Wounded. 
 
 Many ingenious individual attempts have been 
 
 ! II. 
 
426 
 
 PACIFIC COAST PRISONS. 
 
 made at various times to escape, notable among them 
 being that of E. A. Strickland from San Mateo, who 
 after three months devoted labor upon his lock, and 
 having in readiness a scaling-hook and rope, stepped 
 from his cell only to encounter the six-shooter of the 
 officer who for several days liad been watching him. 
 Ten days in the dungeon and a severe whipping M'as 
 the penalty for this attempt. 
 
 The prison commission of Nevada took possession 
 of the six-cell jail with twenty acres of land, and a 
 fine inexhaustible quarry near Carson, purchased for 
 $80,000 on the 1st of March, 1864. The same year 
 another building with thirty-two cells was constructed 
 by the convicts at an outlay of only $4,000 besides 
 their labor ; and several other structures rose during 
 the following years. 
 
 Still more cxcitnig than the escapes at San Quentiii 
 was that which took place at the I\evada state prisiMi. 
 Carson, on Sunday September 17, 1871. A well 
 arranged plan had been formed with the aid, it was 
 rumored, of several outside and powerful coadjutors. 
 
 The projector was a young horse-thief nanud 
 Clifford, who, in conjunction with a numerous staff, 
 had for some time been gathering information oi' 
 routine and Imildings to guide tlio operations, and had 
 Collected all available scraus of iron and other material 
 for tools and sluiig-shot. 
 
 It was the custom to allow prisoners the use of tlie 
 western-cell room on Sundays, free from direct super- 
 vision, and of this they had availed themselves on 
 two preceding Sabbaths to cut through the ceiling 
 into the loft, and thence through the wall hito the 
 adjoining building on the east. A signal had been 
 agreed upon, and shortly before six o'clock, when tlm 
 cells were to be locked for the night, the plotters haJ 
 nearly all crept through the ojiening, and had takm 
 up positions in the adjoining loft, sixty feet distant, 
 over the room of the deputy warden, while a few tlo- 
 termined fellows waited below for the captain of tlio 
 
 anii.v 
 B, 
 
 guar 
 
 '•atli 
 
 ei-.s 
 
 (unfr 
 
 took 
 
 tlirou 
 
 witJic 
 
NEVADA PRISON ESCAPE. 
 
 m 
 
 guard. Soon the jingle of keys called to action ; and 
 as the captain and his attendant entered they were 
 stunned, one with a slungshot, the other with a bottle. 
 Several more jx)unced in to deal the coup de griice, 
 but merciful sentiments prevailing, they were thrown 
 into a cell and locked up. The next moment the 
 convicts were climbing the cell tiers, for the hole, to 
 join their companions who had already broken through 
 the ceilinj; in the east buildinjj and were tumblinij 
 down upon tJie deputy warden. This startled func- 
 tionary was awed into submission, but soon made his 
 escape to securer quarters. The noise had caused 
 no loss consternation on the lower story, where Lieu- 
 tenant-governor Denver was entertaining a party of 
 hulies at dinner. Seizing a pistol he rushed out to 
 meet the crowd as it came pouring down the stairs, 
 led by ClitFord. The first shot almost crippled the 
 leader, but the mass pressed onward, overpowering 
 him, and makhig him the target of his own pistol. 
 At this critical moment, Deadman, a life convict, who 
 acted as servant to the officers, and had followed his 
 master faithfullv, seized a chair, and whirlintr it with 
 savage fury stretched several convicts on the floor and 
 l)itchod one over the balustrade. This act diverted 
 attention and saved the life of the wounded governor; 
 l)ut his heroic champion had also to succumb to num- 
 bers, and fell senseless after demolishing another chair 
 upon the assailants. Meanwhile the bleeding Clifford 
 led on to the armory, wrenching open the lock with 
 suspicious ease, and soon the firing aimounced that 
 arms had been secured. 
 
 Believing the prisoners safe under lock and key, the 
 guard had abandoned itself to the leisure of the Sab- 
 hath, leaving no sentinel on the wall. As the i)rison- 
 ers entered the guard-house, there were none to 
 confront them except the guard Isaacs, who fearlessly 
 took his stand in the yard with a six-shooter, firing in 
 through the windows and receiving the return fire 
 without flinching. His right knee being shattered by 
 
 1 
 
 lull 
 
 "■ til 
 
 fai 
 
PACIFIC COAST PRISONS. 
 
 a bullet, he coolly leant over upon the left leg, and 
 continued to fire until a shot in the hip brought him 
 down, fatally wounded. Struck with admiration at 
 his courage, the prisoners refrained from doing him 
 further harm, and merely secured his pistol. The 
 resolute stand of the guard had caused many irreso- 
 lute convicts to return to the shelter of their cells, and 
 soon a reenforcement of three ijuards and two citi- 
 zens came up. Two of the guards were speedily 
 placed hors de combat, while a citizen, whose rash- 
 ness led him too near the windows of the guard-house, 
 received a bullet in the head from which he did not 
 recover. 
 
 During the confusion Denver's little daujfhter found 
 her way into the yard, and ran heedlessly into the 
 range of the fire, as if to shield the brave Isaacs. A 
 French prisoner, employed in the guard-room, rushed 
 forward on seeing the danger of the little one, and 
 bore her off, leaving the terrified mother in an 
 agony of doubt whether her child had not escaped 
 one danijcer only to encounter another. A youni; 
 woman had also noticed the child, and impelled by 
 feminine devotion, she had followed, only to flutter in 
 bewilderment over the blood-stained ground before 
 the windows with the belclihit; guns. Once more the 
 gallantry of La Grande Nation was displayed as the 
 Frenchman dashed to the rescue. Of the reenforce- 
 ment one citizen alone remained unscathed. 
 
 A man with a buggy who happened to be at tlie 
 prison when the firing began, hurried to town to give 
 the alarm ; but before the sheriff and his dozen f dlow- 
 ers arrived, twenty -nine of the most desperate con- 
 victs had escaped, some badly wounded, leaving 
 behind forty -three comrades who had been restrained 
 by force and fear, or whose term was nearly expired. 
 A large force of citizens also appeared equipped from 
 the state armory, followed by two militia comi)anies 
 from Virginia city, who were already in pursuit in 
 different directions before midnight. 
 
FUKTHER NEVADA ESCAPES. HI 
 
 Guided by a big negro the majority of the fugitives 
 sought the mountain range to the east, but shortly 
 after, small parties were reported at various points, 
 demanding food and clothes, or obliging some black- 
 smith to remove their irons. Some appeared at an Ind- 
 ian camp, where two assumed the dress of the warriors, 
 and a third donned the habiliments of a female 
 aboriginal. The conuniseration of a ranchero was ex- 
 cited by meeting a man devoid of all clothing save 
 his drawers, shivering before the piercing wind which 
 swept the valley during the night. A l»arty of six 
 came upon a German charcoal burner, and tying him 
 to a tree they made off with his four horses. In this 
 position he was found six hours later by pursuing citi- 
 zens, muttering vengeance loud and deep. 
 
 Despite the pressure of hunger and weakness from 
 long confinement the convicts baffled their pursuers 
 for a long time, while reports of robberies and nmrders 
 poured in from all directions. After a reprehensible 
 delay of eight days a reward was offered of $200 or 
 8300 per head. This proved an incentive, and sev- 
 eral captures were made, although not without desper- 
 ate encounters wherein three citizens lost their lives. 
 In one place three ranchmen followed four armed con- 
 victs, and watching their opportunity they covered 
 them with rifles. The prisoners offered the tempting 
 bribe of $2,500, to be released, assuring the captors 
 tliat a secret message to a certain person would be re- 
 sponded to by a masked man who should pay the 
 money. Although tempted to secure this accomplice, 
 and j>erhaps the money, the captors preferred the 
 surer reward of $900. The story was connnented 
 upon as indicating powerful coadjutors, and the inac- 
 tioji of the deputy warden during the melee was se- 
 verely criticised. 
 
 At 3 o'clock p. M. the 28th of October, 1877, an- 
 other break occurred in the Nevada state prison 
 which narrowly esca|ied being a serious aft'air. A 
 deputy warden, MattheWisjn, on entering the slioe- 
 
 
 ■1 %' H 
 
430 
 
 PACIFIC COAST PRISONS. 
 
 I 
 
 shop was seized by six convicts and borne to the 
 ground. 
 
 " Liberty or death," they cried. ** You die, but we 
 will be free." 
 
 " You had better be quiet," said Matthewson, 
 " You will be shot." 
 
 Meanwhile Gonard, a captain of the guard, had 
 been seized by three prisoners, who told him if he 
 would go quietly with them he should not be hurt. 
 Gonard likewise expostulated, telling them such ac- 
 tion would bring upon them certain death. The 
 prison-breakers all belonged to the shoe-shop, and 
 were armed with knives, by one of which the keeper 
 was cut in the groin. 
 
 Both parties now endeavored to reach the gate ; but 
 the alarm was given and the i;uard stood firm. The rinjjj- 
 leaders were fired upon, and several of them fell, one 
 Johnson fatally wounded. Mathena, who was badly 
 injured, when captured cried, "I am lostl My 
 last chance is gone I " and endeavored to kill himself. 
 
 In Oregon the first convicts were hired out to re- 
 sponsible persons for support and safe-keeping; but it 
 soon became apparent that a penitentiary was needed, 
 and during the legislative session of 1851 three com- 
 missioners were appointed to superintend the erection 
 of a building. Nothing was done, however, before 
 the meeting of the legislature of 1852-3, when an- 
 other trio was appointed which set to work with a 
 will, and in 1856 an $85,000 building stood ready. 
 
 The leasing system was resumed between 1859 and 
 1862 after which the governor became ex-officio su- 
 perintendent. Since 1864 every governor has ap- 
 pointed a superintendent. In 1866 the state prison 
 was fixed at Salem, the present site, and a wooden 
 jail erected at a cost of $38,000. In 1870, $50,000 
 was granted for a more substantial brick edifice of 
 two stories, with basement, and two wings each 160 
 feet in length. The wooden prison formed one of t)ic 
 
OREGON, WASHINGTON, AND IDAHO. 
 
 431 
 
 workshops, devoted to carpentry, tannery, worked 
 with the aid of water power. In 1874, 150 acres of 
 garden and farm land were already under cultivation, 
 and this, together with the brick-making department, 
 helped considerably to sustain the establishment, so 
 much so, that the earnings of the two years 1873-4 
 amounted to $65,260 and $65,269, while the expenses 
 were but $78,047 ; but the average number of pris- 
 oners for the two years was a little over 100 with not 
 a single female. 
 
 The morit-book system worked well. When a pris- 
 oner had earned not less than four marks, and not 
 over six, during the six months, he received a credit 
 of one day for each mark. When such credit-marks 
 were earned during the succeeding semesters, he re- 
 ceived an additional day for each, until five days had 
 been gained for each mark. This time was deducted 
 from the sentence, while the allowance was lost by 
 breaking rules or attempting to escape. At the ex- 
 piration of his term he received fifty cents for each 
 credit mark, less loss of tools, loss of material, and 
 waste. 
 
 In 1861 the Oregon state penitentiary received the 
 convicts from Washington at $3 75 a week, the lessees 
 liaving liberty to work them at times. In 1871 the 
 Washington convicts were kept at Steilacoom jail, 
 pending the futile attempts to obtain an appropriation 
 for a territorial penitentiary upon the twenty-seven 
 acres donated on McNeill island opposite Steilacoom. 
 By act of February 22d, 1873, congress made an ap- 
 propriation, and in November a wing with forty-two 
 cells was completed at a cost of $37,800. In 1866, 
 tjie Boise county jail served as territorial prison for 
 tlie eleven convicts of Idaho. Miners would not em- 
 ploy them, and no work could be procured wherewith 
 to make them contribute to the cost of maintenance. 
 
 Deer Lodge City, as the pretty little village situ- 
 ated in the valley of that name is called, is the site 
 of the Montana penitentiary. The Deer Lodge river 
 
432 
 
 rAClFIC COAST rRisoxs. 
 
 V.i 
 
 
 is tho principal tributary, or rather, tlio upper part of 
 tlio Clark fork of the Columbia, which luimo it takes 
 some 2,000 miles northwest from its source, after hav- 
 ing rccciv(Hl as tributari(!S the Blackfoot, Bitterroot, 
 and Flathead rivers, and numerous smaller streams. 
 
 The sum of $50,000 was appropriated by congress, 
 in 18G9, to build a prison at some place to be desig- 
 nated by the legislative assembly of Montana. Deer 
 Lodge was the point chosen. Twelve acres of the 
 public domain were marked off as the site, and th(! 
 erection of a buildhig was by law placed in cliarge of 
 tho United States marshal, William F. Wheeler, to 
 whom I am indebted for these fticts. 
 
 The building was completed and accepted in tlic 
 summer of 1871, the appropriation barely covering 
 the cost of the stone walls, roof, floor, and fourteen 
 brick cells, six by eight feet in size, and grating for 
 the lower windows only. The building was eighty 
 by forty feet; its walls were two feet thick, and 
 twent)'-two feet high. A mansard roof afforded room 
 for a third tier of cells. The building has since been 
 completed and furnished. A high board fence was 
 also constructed, enclosing a spaco 300 feet square for 
 a prison yard. The marshal still retained control of 
 the building, and on the 2d of July, 1871, opened it 
 for the reception of territorial and United States 
 convicts. Twelve criminals were at that time re- 
 ceived. 
 
 Then, and subsequently, besides furniture and fix- 
 tures of every kind furnished, the United States paid 
 all prison expenses, the salaries of officers, sui)erintend- 
 ent, guards, and physician, who were supplied witli 
 rooms and subsistence, the clothing and food of pris- 
 oners, fuel and lights, and the territory of Montana 
 paid the general government one dollar a day for the 
 keeping of each of its convicts. 
 
 Becoming impatient of govermental leading-strings 
 the territory asked and obtained control from the loth 
 of May, 1873, to the 1st of August, 1874; by which 
 
MONTANA. 
 
 433 
 
 fix- 
 
 )aitl 
 
 nid- 
 
 Ivitli 
 
 bris- 
 
 tana 
 
 till' 
 
 ings 
 
 hicli 
 
 time, concluding they did not know how to keep a 
 j)rison, the JegisTature begged their guardian at Wash- 
 ington to take back his pretty present, as they found 
 it somewhat expensive. They had nut guests enough 
 to make it profitable. 
 
 At first the cost to the United States of each pris- 
 oner, \ter diem, was $1 86, while the territory paid 
 ^'1 03. Back under the management of Marshal 
 Wheeler agahi, and the Ist of August, 1874, for the 
 first year the cost was $1 66 a day for each prisoner, 
 for the second year $1 45, and for the third year 
 .«;! 36. 
 
 "The greatest misfortune to the prisoners," writes 
 Marshal Wheeler to me the 23d of October, 1877, 
 "is that they have no regular employment. The 
 town being so small it does not find it profitable to 
 hire prison labor, because the prisoners cannot go 
 outside of the prison-yard, and there is no manufac- 
 tuiing done in the town. All work on the improve- 
 ments done about the prison has been done by the 
 prisoners, and only the material paid for by tlie gov- 
 ernment. The prisoners make all their own clothes, 
 C(M»k, saw wood, and do all that is done for the prison 
 and themselves. They have a great deal of spare 
 time, and would be glad to be employed. We have 
 but few books, but get gratis many newspapers and 
 magazines, which are eagerly read by the prisoners. 
 All of them have improved in reading, writing, and 
 the common branches." 
 
 For cleanliness, order, and health, the Montana, 
 prison, though small, was a model. Religious ser- 
 A ices were held on such Sundays as preaching could 
 Ik> secured. No severer punishment was administered 
 than loeking an offender in his cell, feeding him on 
 bread and water, or if very refractory placing him in 
 irons. During the first six years, out of eighty -three 
 prisoners there were four escapes, and one recapture, 
 leaving in fact three. 
 
 The United States marshal was ex-officio superin- 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 28 
 
 Ml 
 
434 
 
 PACIFIC COAST PRISONS. 
 
 tendent, with a salary of $1,200 a year, and having 
 for his assistants four guards of his own appointing 
 and removing, one of whom was called deputy super- 
 intendent, and acted as chief in the absence of the 
 marshal. The salaries of the assistants were $1,000 
 a year each; the physician was paid by fees. All 
 expenses were paid monthly on vouchers mailed to 
 the attorney-general with an explanatory letter. 
 
 Alaska has had few prison facilities to speak of. 
 Under the Russian regime, malefactors were confined 
 at the forts. For a time after American occupaticn 
 the only civil rule was the local municipal govern- 
 ment of Sitka, and that was maintained without 
 authority of law. 
 
 Under an act of congress in 1853, A. W. Babbitt, 
 then secretary of the territory, was authorized to 
 expend $20,000 in building a penitentiary for Utah. 
 The building was placed in what was then known as 
 the Big Field Survey, made under the provisional 
 laws of the state of Deseret. The building was com- 
 pleted in 1854; Daniel Caru was elected warden, and 
 Wilford Woodruff, Albert P. Rock wood, and Sanmol 
 R. Richards inspectors. 
 
 There was in prison an average of nine prisoners 
 for some time, many coming and going, and but few 
 serving out their term. These new villains cost the 
 new territory about five thousand dollars a year. They 
 could have been hanged immediately after conviction 
 for less money. As the years went by, and the gen- 
 eral government failing in its appropriations, the build- 
 ings became somewhat dilapidated, and there were 
 several escapes. 
 
 Prior to Juiy, 1875, Arizona had no prison. Tie 
 judge in sentencing criminals named some county jail 
 as their place of confinement, and of such prisont i.s 
 the sheriffs of the respective counties had charge. 
 No state convict up to this time had ever served liis 
 full term, but alwavs escaped. In 1875 the legisla- 
 ture passed a law locating the prison at Yuma, and 
 
XJTAH AND ARIZONA. 
 
 435 
 
 appropriating $25,000 for building purposes. Con- 
 victs were kept in the Yuma jail up to July 1876, 
 when they were removed to the prison then ready. 
 There were then seven only, and during the next six 
 months three more were added, making ten prisoners 
 in the Arizona penitentiary on the 1st of January 
 1877. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 Believe me, it is not necessary to a man's respectability that he shonld 
 oommit a murder. Many a man has passed through life most respectt..'; , 
 without attempting any species of homicide. A man came to me as the can- 
 didate for the place of mv servant, just then vacant. He had the reputation 
 of having dabuled a little in our art, some said, not without merit. What 
 startled me, however, was, that he supposed this art to be part of the regular 
 duties in my service. Now that was a thing I would not allow. So I said 
 at once, ' if once a man indulges himself in murder, very soon he comes to 
 think little of robbing '; and from robbing he comes next to drinking and 
 Sabbath -breaking, and from that to incivility and procrastination. Once ])e- 
 gin upon this downward path yon never know where yon are to stop. Many 
 a man has dated his ruin irom some murder or other that perhaps he thought 
 little of at the time. 
 
 — De Qmncey. 
 
 The natives of California were quick to learn the 
 purchasing power of gold, but they did not thereby 
 become greedy of it like their white brethren. When 
 they wanted a sack of flour, or a few pounds of to- 
 bacco, or a bottle of brandy, some of them went to 
 the river and washed out the gold necessary for their 
 purchases. They were badly cheated at first, having 
 no knowledge of the value white men put upon the 
 metal, and they would as readily give a handful of it 
 as a smaller quantity, if they had it, for whatever 
 struck their fancy, something to eat, or to drink, a 
 gaudy handkerchief, or a garment. 
 
 Time and intercourse with the more cunning race 
 sharpened their wits a little. Then they adopted a 
 method of their own in making purchases. In parties 
 of five or ten they would first stroll through the storo, 
 carefully observe several articles, and settle in their 
 own mind what they would buy, but saying nothing 
 to the shop-keeper. Then they would retire to a little 
 
 (486) 
 
 distj 
 groi 
 tJiey 
 retuj 
 their 
 ITpoi 
 perhj 
 the s 
 Jate, 
 give 
 well ; 
 crease 
 eratioi 
 the ai 
 wliich 
 buy bi 
 they w 
 ing mo 
 each tij 
 until ti 
 The 
 Califori 
 In the 
 
 blanket 
 
 or $5 
 
 shopkee 
 
 of sava^ 
 
 a<'orns, 
 
 ill tile gi 
 
 i"g 1500 
 
 liandken 
 
 st^rape. 
 
 h()])pers, 
 
 pound; 
 
 While 
 on the S< 
 to his cai 
 f«d belt 
 ^^ught it 
 
STANISLAUS GAMBLERS. 
 
 4S7 
 
 distance, and seating themselves in a circle on the 
 ground gravely discuss matters. One after another 
 tliey then went to the store and made their purchases, 
 returning afterward to their place in the circle. And 
 their method of barter was frequently in this wise: 
 Upon a leaf, or piece of paper, one would pour out 
 perhaps a teaspoonful of gold-dust, and taking it to 
 the shopkeeper, point to the article desired and ejacu- 
 late, ughl which being interpreted meant, "I will 
 give you this for that.' If the shopkeeper took it, 
 well ; if he refused it the Indian would withdraw, in- 
 crease the pile of dust, and return, repeating the op- 
 eration until the amount was large enough to procure 
 the article. Again, if it was biscuits they desired, of 
 which a teaspoonful of dust in the days of '48. would 
 buy but half a dozen, and they wanted several dozen, 
 they would go and come, never at any one time bring- 
 ing more than the first measure of dust, receiving six 
 each time until they had secured all they required, or 
 until their dust was gone. 
 
 The Mexican serape was quite becoming to the 
 California root digger, and took his fancy wonderfully. 
 In the absence of a serape, however, an American 
 blanket would do, and for this, of a quality worth $4 
 or $5, they cheerfully paid Weber, the Coloma 
 shopkeeper, $100. Before the end of 1848 thousands 
 of savages, who up to that had lived on roots and 
 acorns, and had paraded the forests as naked as Adam 
 ill the garden, were arrayed in gorgeous apparel cost- 
 ing $500, conspicuous in which was gaudy calico, red 
 handkerchiefs, hat, shirt, pantaloons, and blanket or 
 serape. For food, in place of acorns and mashed grass- 
 hoppers, they purchased almonds and raisins at $16 a 
 pound; and for a bottle of whiskey they paid $IG. 
 
 While the Reverend Mr Colton was playing miner 
 on the Stanisla'j!), in the autumn of 1848, there came 
 to his camp three wild men, attracted thither by a 
 rod belt which each of them wanted ; so they first 
 bought it and then gambled to see which should have 
 
 i ''li 
 
438 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 it. "They could speak only their native dialect," said 
 Colton, "not a word of which I could understand. 
 We had to make ourselves intelligible by signs. They 
 wanted to purchase the belt, and each laid down a 
 piece of gold, which were worth in the aggregate sonic 
 $200. I took one of the pieces and gave the Indian 
 to whom it belonged the belt. They made signs for 
 a piece of coin. I oft'ered them an eagle but it was 
 not what they wanted ; a Spanish mill dollar, but they 
 wanted something smaller; a fifty-cent piece, and 
 they signified it would do. Taking the coin they 
 fastened it in the end of a stick so as to expose nearly 
 the entire circle, and set it up about forty yards dis- 
 tant. Then they cast lots, by a bone which tliey 
 threw into the air, for the order in which they should 
 discharge their arrows. The one who had the first 
 shot drew his long, sinewy bow and missed ; the sec- 
 ond, he missed ; the third, and he missed, though the 
 arrow of each flew so near tlie coin that it would have 
 killed a deer at that distance. The second now shot 
 first and grazed the coin; then the third, who broke 
 his string and shot with the bow of tlie second, but 
 missed. And now the first took his turn and struck 
 the coin, whirling it off" at a great distance. The 
 other two gave him the belt which he tied around liis 
 head instead of a blanket, and away they started over 
 the hills full of wild life and glee, leavinif the coin as 
 a thing of no importance in the bushes where it had 
 been whirled." 
 
 To the discharged volunteer, Henry I. Simpson, 
 who was there in August 1848, the natives at work 
 near Mormon island appeared exceedingly singular, 
 They " were dressed in strange fantastic guise ; in- 
 stead of the breech clout, which used to be tlieir chief 
 article of the toilet, gaudy calicoes, bright colored 
 handkerchiefs, and strips of red cloth were showily 
 exhibited about their persons. The first party with 
 whom we came up, consisted of an old Indian with 
 his squaw, and a youth about fifteen ; they seemed to 
 
ABORIGINAL MINERS. 
 
 43d 
 
 be working on their own account, though most of the 
 Indians work by the day for some employer, who 
 furnishes them with food, and pays a regular p«3rdiom 
 — sometimes as much as twenty dollars a day, but 
 more generally at the rate of an ounce and a half of 
 gold, the current rate of which is from ten to twelve 
 dollars per ounce. When we came within sight of this 
 party, they were in a short, deep ravine, very busily 
 employed digging with small machetes, or Spanish 
 knives; and as soon as they perceived us, they looked 
 with some vexation of manner, as though they feared 
 we were coming to interfere with their rights of dis- 
 covery. I may here remark that a nice regard is al- 
 most always had for such rights. A party finding a 
 good bed of gold, is seldom or never interfered with 
 by others — at least the immediate vicinity of their 
 operations is not trespassed upon. As an evidence of 
 this feeling of natural justice, I learned that there 
 was, at the mill of Captain Sutter, a fine bank of de- 
 posit which had not been touched, out of respect to 
 the rights of the captain, who, of course, had no real 
 ownership in the matter. The Indians soon became 
 satisfied that we had no intention of trespassing, and 
 began their work again, the old fellow jabbering away 
 in bad Spanish in reply to our inquiries. He had 
 about his person, in an uncouth-looking buckskin 
 poucli, from six to eight ounces of gold, as I should 
 judge, which he exliibited with some exultation. 
 While we were engaged with the old man, the boy, 
 who had progressed some few yards ahead in his work, 
 uttered a sudden, ugh I which is tlie Indian expression 
 of wonder. We all turned toward him, and saw hiin 
 holding up, with an expression of irrepressible delight, 
 a large lump of gold incrusted with earth and gravel, 
 which seemed as big as a man's fist. The old fellow 
 rushed toward him with quite an un-Indian-like eager- 
 ness, and taking it from his hand, commenced rapidly 
 cleaning it of the dirt and gravel, which he accom- 
 plished with peculiar skill, and in less than a minute 
 
440 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 exhibited to us a lump of apparently pure gold, which 
 I should judge weighed at least six or seven ounces. 
 We all examined it closely and with open admiration. 
 Whether it was a craving of avarice that seized my 
 heart, or because I admired the specimen as one of 
 the finest I had seen, I will not pretend to 
 determine; but, as it was, I felt a strong de- 
 sire to possess the piece. I suppose my feelings were 
 legible in my countenance, for the old Indian looked 
 knowingly into my eyes, and then, after a few words 
 in his own language with his squaw, he took the gold 
 in his hand and proffered it to me, taking hold, at the 
 same time, of a bright scarlet sash which I wore 
 around my waist, thus evidently offering a trade. ISIy 
 sash was a fine one, and though worth by no means 
 the intrinsic value of the gold, would perhaps have 
 sold for much more in that region, for the Indians 
 had been known to gratify their fancies at much more 
 exorbitant prices : it was not this, however, that 
 made me hesitate, but rather that it seemed like s}iec- 
 ulating upon the ignorance of the savage. ' Take it, 
 Harry,' said Charley to me, ' I do not like to im- 
 pose on the old fellow, Charley,' said I. * Pooh, 
 some less scrupulous person wiii sell him a few yards 
 of printed calico for it ; so it amounts to the same 
 thing in the end.' Doubtless the Indian thought 
 that our hesitation arose from a desire to enhance my 
 demand for the sash, for he held a few minutes longer 
 consultation with his squaw, and then commenced un- 
 doing his pouch, as if he intended to offer an additional 
 price. I shock my head, however, to indicate tliat 
 he should stop, and undoing the sash I gave it in ex- 
 change for the gold. Certainly vanity is a sweet 
 morsel to the human heart ; even the habitual stoicism 
 of the savage yields to its magic influence. No sooner 
 had the old man obtained possession of the coveted 
 treasure, than both his wife and son gathered around 
 him, forgetting entirely their work in extravagant 
 admiration of the gaudy plaything they had purchased 
 
 80 fai 
 
 joym( 
 Sa 
 1848* 
 "On 
 
 refresi 
 tlian 
 small 
 and re 
 knocks 
 meat, 
 lizatior 
 liowevc 
 has nij 
 Woman 
 warm v 
 ^\oods. 
 among 
 •'*^ts as i 
 wliicli s 
 In a 
 approac 
 cxperiei 
 Indians 
 vesting 
 the whit 
 been o 
 and the' 
 th.Qy wt* 
 prices in 
 this, the^ 
 a'ld dig I 
 ^\'ag(^ns r 
 of all kii 
 one hunc 
 ^i'hI joine 
 Tlie first 
 Island, oil 
 
SUTTER ON INDIANS. 
 
 441 
 
 BO far beyond its value. We left them to their en- 
 joyment, and proceeded on." 
 
 Says one who visited the Stanislaus in October 
 1848 of some natives he saw at Wi»rk in that vichiity: 
 " On the plain we fell in with the camp of Mr Mur- 
 phy, who invited us into his tent, and set before us 
 refreshments that would have graced a scene less wild 
 than this. His tent is pitched in the midst of a 
 small tribe of wild Indians who gather gold for him, 
 and receive in return provisions and blankets. He 
 knocks down two bullocks a day to furnish them with 
 moat. Though never before within the wake of civi- 
 lization, they respect his person and property. This, 
 liowever, is to be ascribed in part to the fact that ho 
 has married the daughter of the chief — a young 
 woman of many personal attractions, and full of that 
 warm wild love which makes her the Haideo of the 
 woods. She is the queen of the tribe, and walks 
 among them with the air of one on whom authority 
 sits as a native grace — a charm which all feel, and of 
 which she seems the least conscious." 
 
 In a melancholy strain, which, coming from him 
 ai)proaches tiie grotesque, Sutter thus describes his 
 experiences in mining with the natives : " Even the 
 Indians had no more patience to work alone, in har- 
 vesting and threshing my large wheat crop out, as 
 t];c white men had all left, and other Indians had 
 been engaged by some white men to work for them, 
 and they commenced to have some gold for which 
 tliey were buying all kinds of articles at enormous 
 prices in the stores; which when my Indians saw 
 tills, they wished very umch to go to the mountains 
 and dig gold. At last I consented, got a number of 
 wagons ready, loaded them with provisions and goods 
 of all kinds, employed a clerk, and left with about 
 one hundred Indians, and about fifty Kanakas who 
 had joined those I brought with me from the Islands. 
 The first camp was about ten miles above Mormon 
 Island, on the south fork of the American river. In 
 
 il 
 
 !■ 
 
 
442 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 a few weeks we became crowded, and it would no 
 more pay, as my people made too many acquaintances. 
 I broke up the camp and started on the march fur- 
 ther south, and located my next camp on Sutter 
 creek, and thought that I should there be alone. 
 The work was going on well for awhile, until throe 
 or four travelling grog-shops surrounded me, at from 
 one and a half to two miles distance from the camp; 
 th3n of course, the gold was taken to these places, 
 for drinking, gambling, etc., and then the following 
 day they were sick and unable to work, and bocauie 
 deeper and more indebted to me, and particularly tlio 
 Kanakas. I found that it was high time to quit this 
 kind of business, and lose no more time and nK)ncy. 
 I therefore broke up the camp and returned to the 
 fort, where I disbanded nearly all tlic people who had 
 worked for me in the mountains diyctxinij yrold. Tliis 
 whole expedition proved to be a heavy loss to me." 
 
 One Sunday in August I80O, in tlie town of Sonora, 
 a person called Cave in conversation with a gambh r 
 named ^lason, pointing to an Indian wlio was loun.;- 
 injj about the street, offered to lav a wager that lie 
 could induce the native to rob or kill lum. Mason 
 accepted the offer. Cave then drew the native aside, 
 told him that Mason had a larjjje sum of monev liidden ; 
 told him where he should find it, and that if he would 
 rob or kill ISIason he should have half of it and no 
 harm should befall him. Placing an unloaded pistol 
 in his hand Cave urged hhn on to the consununation of 
 the deed. Irresolute, bewildered, worked upon more 
 by the exhortations of Cave than any desin^ to do 
 wrong, the native hesitatingly entered Mason's house, 
 looked around and came out without touching a thing. 
 Mason was watching for him and as soon as he was 
 fairly on the street again shot him dead. 
 
 For specimens of Indian warfare we must go nortli. 
 The natives of California valley were a mild race, 
 and when the miners shot them down the survivors 
 
 seld( 
 
 bord 
 
 quite 
 
 peop 
 
 digni 
 
 Di 
 
 iiig fi 
 
 ei-n ( 
 
 si>irit( 
 
 no w< 
 
 Coi 
 
 bv tlu 
 
 and S 
 
 cry, ai 
 
 invadii 
 
 .strono'( 
 
 iSIiasta 
 
 tlie R,) 
 
 to the 
 
 Jo; til 
 
 Tijisey, 
 
 diplomt 
 
 Whi, 
 
 time 
 
 Soineti 
 
 IH'acom 
 
 On 
 Work ni 
 wJiite ni 
 f'oine in 
 Women, 
 j'lg 'sti( 
 land yoi 
 Card 
 ity, tellj 
 same ol 
 J"1I1," h 
 
 "lortisin 
 cominor 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 t 
 
SULUX THE SHASTA. 
 
 4«S 
 
 seldom retaliated. In the vicinity of the Oregon 
 border, however, on both sides of the line, it was 
 quite different. The inhabitants were a bolder, braver 
 people, wiio would not tamely submit to every in- 
 dignity. 
 
 During the year 1852 there were several now niin- 
 in*; fields discovered in nt)rthern California and south- 
 eru Oregon, and the natives thereabout bein<j: high- 
 spirited and strong, and the miners overbearing, it is 
 no wonder there were many outrages on both sides. 
 
 Conspicuous among the savages was a Shasta, called 
 by the white men Scarface, and another named Bill, 
 and Sullix the bad-tempered, who in cunning, treach- 
 ery, and cruelty, were equal to any of the white men 
 invading their domains — only the latter were the 
 stronger. E. Steele, of Yreka, was a favorite of the 
 Shastas, who named him Jo Lane's Brother. Among 
 tlie Rogue river chiefs, some of whose people belonged 
 to the Shasta nation, were Tolo and Jolm, Sam and 
 Jo ; then at the foot of the Siskivou mountains, was 
 Tipsey, or the Hairy, second to none in war and 
 diplomacy. 
 
 White men imposed upon the Shastas, and from 
 time to time these chiefs had killed white men. 
 Sometimes Steele played successfully the part of 
 pt'acemaker ; oftener there was fighting. 
 
 (hi one occasion, while a surveying party was at 
 work in his vicinity, Scarftice said to them, "You 
 white men who are so good and so great, v.liy do you 
 come into our countrv and kill our men, ravish our 
 Women, and go around witli a com[)ass and diaiii cry- 
 ing * stick, stuck,' set up a few stakes and call the 
 land your own when you have not paid a cent for it^" 
 
 Cardwell, an old Indian-fighter of that vicin- 
 ity, tells many stories of this aboriginal. "This 
 same old Sullix sat upon one of the sills of my 
 mill," he says, "while I was at work boring and 
 mortising on it, watching the road alive witli men 
 counng into the valley after the discovery of the 
 
 «• 
 
444 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 Jacksonville mines, and he remarked to me that it 
 had never been the intention of the Indians to give 
 up the country, but they had meant to let a few 
 whites settle here, and get as nmch property around 
 them as tliey could, and then go to work to wipe 
 them out; but ihey were discouraged by the unex- 
 pected influx of people. He then consoled himself by 
 telling me one of his adventures. Some time a^o, 
 with two other Indians, he was on the Klamath 
 river, and late one day they saw two white men slip- 
 ping along and trying to avoid being seen. He and 
 his companions watched them, and observing where 
 they camped that night, stole up and murdered them 
 both. He seemed to rejoice over the bloody deed. 
 'But now,' said he, *we have waited too long to 
 carry out our design ; the whites have overix>wered 
 us.' He would work himself nito a great rage talk- 
 ing of these things ; his eyes would fauly turn green. 
 When he told me of the murder on the Klamath, I 
 came near striking him with my chisel ; and I then 
 and there made up my mind that if an opportunity 
 ever presented I would kill that Indian. I afterwards 
 had the pleasure of shooting him, but it did not kill 
 him. This was in the subsequent Indian troubles." 
 
 Cardwell states further that a few days after he 
 had selected his mill site at the present town of Asli- 
 land, Tipsey's band had a quarrel with a Shasta band 
 over on the Klamath, in which Tipsey was wounded 
 in the chin, and two of his men were killed. The 
 bloody arbitrament having proceeded thus far peaceful 
 negotiations were begun. The money value of the 
 dead Shasta was about equivalent to Tipsey's chin. On 
 the other side a Shasta chief was killed. "They set- 
 tled the matter," continues Cardwell, "by standing oif 
 the two chiefs, but several horses were demanded by 
 Tipsey in payment for his two braves killed, with the 
 understanding, however, that if Tipsey recovered, the 
 horses were to be paid back as indemnity for the death 
 of the Shasta chief. Tipsey recovered, and the 
 
 Shas< 
 niand 
 and S( 
 the S 
 numb« 
 also n 
 each 8 
 battle 
 Mr Li 
 The S] 
 and th( 
 fire at 
 fifteen, 
 and go 
 yards ( 
 number 
 and sho 
 the field 
 three da 
 tlay. T 
 us in al 
 (German 
 At n() 
 found nil 
 tJto Indii 
 Com in 
 devastati 
 hor 9tli, 
 house of 
 of courte 
 t'hild the] 
 As the 
 t') it, Mi 
 that ther 
 She was 
 Xew Yor 
 some time 
 fluently, 
 ers of pen 
 
THE SHASTAS IN BATTLE. 
 
 415 
 
 Shastas came over, about one hundred strong, and de- 
 manded the horses. Tipsey refused to deliver tliein up, 
 and sent to Butte creek for help, determined to give 
 the Shastas battle. The reenforcements swelled the 
 number to about one hundred and fifty. The Shastas 
 also received reenforcements, making the number on 
 each side about the same. Their manner of going to 
 battle was extremely diverting. The prairie where 
 ;Mr Lindsay Applegate's farm is, was the battle-field. 
 The Shastas were collected on one side of the prairie, 
 and the Rogue Riv( vs opposite. Each built a large 
 fire at the place wuere they were assembled. Ten, 
 fifteen, or perhaps fifty would start out from one side 
 aiul go scampering across to within sixty or eighty 
 yards of the opposite party, when about the same 
 number would start after them, chasing them back, 
 and shooting at them all the way to be chased over 
 tlio fields in their turn. This kind of warfare lasted for 
 tliree days, the contestants fighting about six hours a 
 day. They then compromised the matter, reminding 
 us in all this of the highly rational way France and 
 Germany have of settling their quarrels. 
 
 At no period in the history of savage warfare are 
 found more brave deeds by heroic women than during 
 tlic Indian troubles of 1855. 
 
 Coming down the Rogue River valley, spreading 
 devastation on every side, on the morning of Novem- 
 ber 9th, a large band of savages appeared before the 
 house of Mr Wagimer, who was absent on a mission 
 of courtesy to Sailor diggings, leaving his wife and 
 child there alone. 
 
 As the Indians approached the house, and set fire 
 to it, Mrs Wagoner knew that her fate was sealed, 
 that there was no escape from death or dishonor. 
 She was a beautiful woman, educated and refined, 
 New York being her native state, and having been 
 some time on the frontier, she spoke the local dialect 
 fluently. But she made no attempt to use her pow- 
 ers of persuasion at this juncture, knowing that such 
 
44S 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 effort would be useless. Tlio eneiuiesof her race were 
 at her door; they were savanrfs, iimddeiied hy yours 
 of wrong and the shedding of much innocent Wood. 
 Tlieir wives and daughters liad been outraged and 
 slain by the white men ; for a brief moment they 
 might enjoy revenge. 
 
 Barring tlie door, and refusing admittance to any, 
 refusing even to parley, she proceeded (juietly to ar- 
 range her beautiful hair, and dress herself with neat- 
 ness and decorum, as if for an important occasion; 
 then drawing to her the child, and f .Iding it to lier 
 heart in the last embrace this side of eternitv, she 
 seated herself in the middle of the rot)m, took the 
 child in her lap, pillowed its head upon her breast, 
 and thus, while singing to it a lullaby, she met her 
 doom. She heeded not the approaching flames; slie 
 heard not the savage yells; nor was she conscious of 
 the glittering eyes that peered at her through the 
 crevices of her cabin. Already in spirit she was far 
 away from that horrible scene, safe with her child be- 
 yond the skies. 
 
 The leading events of the insurrectionary niovo- 
 ment of the Modocs I have presented in my general 
 history, but the subject is worthy of more extendid 
 treatment than I was able then to give it. I have, 
 therefore, reserved sufficient space for fuller detail in 
 this volume. 
 
 To the early incomers the Modocs were a wild, un- 
 known people, and scarcely ever seen. Indeed, 
 Modoc is a Shasta word, signifying stranger, or hos- 
 tile, and so was taken up and a[)plied to these savages 
 by white men hearing the Shastas speak of them. 
 
 When Superintendent Huntington made the treaty 
 of 1864 with the Klamaths and Modocs, that portion 
 of the latter tribe which lived on the border of Cali- 
 fornia, and acknowledged Keintpoos, — individually 
 known in the settlements as Captain Jack — for tin ir 
 chief, he had no great difficulty in gaining the consent 
 
 of til 
 even 
 tlu; ol 
 
 that J 
 unfittt 
 hud rl 
 
 KhlMlU 
 
 in tJie 
 conseqi 
 nwn ; a 
 
 I'"rtuni 
 'i'Jicy \v 
 that it 
 ino/iy n 
 Some 
 mining c 
 t'Hvn Jioi 
 J'-'"glisIi 
 ^var beini 
 ^vere Jed 
 str-engtJi 
 'h' huccv 
 I'll is idea 
 ii'»tives, 
 
 ^i'I>erintt 
 duties of 
 and the ]V 
 chin, pre 
 northern ' 
 ^■'''i<ly beg 
 white niei 
 •;i>i' rations 
 ^'•^hiiient <. 
 ft'e known 
 U'v.s, toget 
 ^■'<>us of th 
 these India 
 '"»-''i, and t. 
 
KEXTIPOOr, or. tAITAIX JACK. 
 
 447 
 
 of this pcrsonajTo to tho tonus of tlio treaty. Yot 
 evoii tlien, circuiiistanocs existojl wliioli would luako 
 the observance of the conditi«uis «)f tlio treaty excud- 
 iiijily irksoiiio to Captain Jack, wln> had aetjuired 
 tliat love of civilized as well as savage viei's wliii h 
 unfitted him for oncagement on a res( r' ation. The 
 hud character of the Sliastas, Pit Klvers, Lower 
 Klanmths, and other trihcs occu}>ying tho country 
 in the vichiity of tlie mines, was not altogether in 
 consequence of their association with vicious white 
 men ; such asst)ciation, however, gave them every op- 
 jK»rtunity to practice whatever vices they might have. 
 They were so given to quarreling among themselves, 
 that it was only when at war with others tliat har- 
 mony reigned in the household. 
 
 Some of these savages were always hovering about 
 mining camps and were often emi)loye<l us servants in 
 town houses. They had a good unck'rstanding of the 
 English language, and were not unaware of the civil 
 war being carried on at the east, from which they 
 were led to believe the white race, of whose numerical 
 strength they had a feeble idea, was in a c«>n(lition to 
 he successfullv attacked and possiblv exterminated. 
 Tills idea prevailed t:> a great extent among all the 
 natives, from the Missouri to the Pacific. When 
 Superintendent Steele of California, entered upon the 
 duties of his office, in 18G3, he found the Klamaths 
 and the Modocs, under their chiefs Lalake and St hon- 
 cliin, preparing to make war upon the settlers of 
 northern California and southern Oregon, having al- 
 ready begun stealing cattle and plundeiing and killing 
 wjiite men travelling thnm^h their countrv. The 
 operations of the 1st Oreg<m cavalry and the estab- 
 lishment of Fort Klamath to prevent these outrages, 
 are known to the readers of my history. These iiieas- 
 uies, t»)gether with the killing of two of the most vi- 
 cious of the Klamath sub-chiefs, resulted in bringing 
 these Indians to a realization of the power of the white 
 men, and the necessity of a treaty. 
 
448 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 Ill February 18G4 these border Indians, who be- 
 longed some to California and some to Oregon, but 
 who knew nothing of the 42d degree of latitude whicji 
 formed the boundary between, and who wcr'^ in tlio 
 habit of visiting Yreka, the residence of Superintendent 
 Steele, being led to fear that they would be punished 
 by the Oregon troops for their misconduct, sought 
 tiie advice of Steele who made with them a sort <f 
 treaty of friendship and peace. This treaty was inude 
 solely with Steele, and witnessed V)y a justice of tl e 
 peace, E. W. Potter, and the sheriffc;f Siskiyou county, 
 D. Kearn. It required of the Indians nothing but 
 their promise to live in peace among each other and 
 with the white men, to refrain from killing, and steal- 
 ing from members of tlie several tribes, and from in- 
 terrupting the travel of individuals of one trihe 
 through the country of another. Tlie penalty for 
 breaking this promise was to be given uji to the sol- 
 diers f )r punishment. They were retjuired to respe( t 
 the lives and property of white men, negroes, and 
 Chinamen, allowhig them to pasb thnmgh the country 
 claimed by them without molestation, or being taxed 
 for right of way, or robbed of their property or mon(y, 
 but they were permitted to charge a fair price for 
 ferrying travellers across streams, or acting as guides 
 if desired to do so. 
 
 They agreed not to get drunk wlien they came to 
 the settlcmentw, nor to steal while on these visits, nor 
 to rob tlie sluice-boxes of Chinamen, but promised to 
 remain out of town at night in tlu ir own cam] is. 
 They also promised not to sell tJieir own or the cl.i!- 
 dren of other Indians, or to sell their women to wliitc 
 men unless the purchasers would go before a just id' 
 and marry^ these women, nor to bring their arms into 
 the settlements, except to be repaired. On the ])art 
 of the white people it was agreed by Steele that tluy 
 should be protected when they came to the settle- 
 ments; but thty were counselled to obtain passes 
 from the officers at the forts, and the ^lodocs and 
 
 Klanij 
 
 tlie in 
 
 at Foi 
 
 Tlie 
 
 to jjial 
 
 fe.ssioi) 
 
 bo quei 
 
 s "verit 
 
 bis jud 
 
 tlie mo 
 
 wiiJi tl 
 
 !>een in 
 
 time, .si 
 
 tjjat {)ui 
 
 K la mat 
 
 should ] 
 
 <onj))re] 
 
 f^tnietioi 
 
 It is ( 
 
 in FebrL 
 
 «cttleniei 
 
 f"»und ju, 
 
 i!i prosti 
 ^'aj)tnii 
 '•V tJie (>•( 
 •lotlocs 1 
 was conij 
 'I'ibi's, aiii 
 
 ill Nv!|;;t \\ 
 
 foriiMTjy ■ 
 .^I'-'iiits wl 
 •')iid from 
 into Vivk, 
 I'lf .'ittacli 
 wliieli Avo 
 '^"st Kivt 
 ''•'•^i,!.i"Med tl 
 y'''^^<! Jiim I 
 
 "^ the ]\r< 
 
 Cal. 
 
MOiXXJS ANO KLAMATHS. 
 
 449 
 
 Klainaths wtro informed that they were subject to 
 th(3 iiis[)ecti<)n, protection, and restraint of the officers 
 at Fort Klamath. 
 
 The motive which led the California superintendent 
 to make a treaty witli Indians whom, by his own con- 
 fession, he knew did not belong to his district, might 
 he (pustioncd — indeed was questioned afterward, with 
 s verity; but there was no reason to doubt that to 
 liis juilginent he seemed to be doing what was best at 
 the moment. But he was not unaware that a treaty 
 with the Klamatlis and Modocs had for a long time 
 !»ern iu contemplation; and was likely to occur at any 
 time, since congress had made an appropri.ation for 
 tliat i»urpose, an<l the Klamatlis had been fed at Fort 
 Khimatli during the winter; and his long experience 
 slioiild have told him that savages are never able to 
 ( (tn))>rehen(l, nor ever willing to \;'>nsentto receive in- 
 structions from twt> sources. 
 
 It is easy to see how the treaty made with Steele 
 ill February, which permitted the Indians to visit the 
 settlements, where, in s[)ite of their promises, tiny 
 f.)Uiid means to carry on their former r.ofarious trade 
 ill prostitution, should have affected the aitituck^ of 
 ('a}itaiii Jack and band toward the treaty authoriznl 
 liv the urovernment, and made with the Klamatlis and 
 Modocs in October following. Tliis baml of Modocs 
 was conijiosed in part of vii-ious renegades from other 
 tiihes. and )iad their home about TuK; and Clear lukt'S, 
 ill \vli;:t was known as the Lost River countrv, where 
 tir;a"rlv thev used to lie in wait for parties of emi- 
 'jrants whose road lav around the shores of the lake, 
 and from which they now had an easy and short road 
 into Yreka and the mining settlements. Achnitting 
 tlie attacliment of aboriginals to particuhir localities, 
 wliicli would make them ri'luctant to remove from 
 liost River, Captain Jack could nt)t willingly have 
 resigned the advantages which the tn^aty with Steele 
 gave him over that which Sconchin, the head <-hief 
 of the jVIodocs, agreed to accept from lluntlngt«»n; 
 cal. 1st. i'oc. a* 
 
 iis 
 
450 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 and it very soon was understood tliat though Jack 
 ha<l signed the treaty witli the other chiefs, he had 
 no intention of keeping it. This probable repudiation 
 of the treaty during tlie interval before it was known 
 to \w ratified bv congress, and btifore the agencv was 
 well established, was not, however, a subject of serious 
 concern. 
 
 In the meantime they wore not keeping their agree- 
 ment either with Steele or the United States. In 
 the autunm of 1807 two of them were apprehended 
 by Agent Applegate, and placed in chains at Fort 
 Klamath, for distributing annnunition to the hostile 
 Snakes; and in the following vear, having refused to 
 come on the reservati<m, military aid was asked to 
 comp(^l them to remove. In 1801) the settlers of Sis- 
 kiyou county petitioned (xeneral Crook to remove the 
 Mod(»cs to the reservation, as their presence in tliat 
 district was detrimental to the interests of the people. 
 Ill rt'i>ly. Crook stated that the Modocs woi'lf' have 
 been removed before tliis, but for a report f f' the 
 former connnander at Fort Klamath that the Indian 
 department ditl not supply sufficient food there, and 
 that they would not submit to remain uiion a reserva- 
 tion where they were not fed, and could kill but little 
 game. After some weeks, however, (leneral (^t<m»1<, 
 on the demand of Superintendent Mea?ham, ordered 
 the commanding ottie(T at Fort Klamath, Lieutenant 
 Goodal(\ if he believed the Indian department pre- 
 pared to take charge of them in such a manner as to 
 give no cause of complaint, to bring Jack and \\\^ 
 band upon the reservation. 
 
 Accordingly, in ]>ecenilH>r. Meacham, accompanieil 
 by a detachment of troops from the fort, re[)aired ti 
 Stone Hridge, on Lost river, where he met (^aj)taiii 
 Jack and his band, and informed them of the purpo-' 
 of the government to insist on his observance of tli-- 
 tri'atv. During tlu; ni>j[ht followinijf the council. Jai k. 
 with a few of the most desperate characters in liis 
 following, left the camp and tied to the lava beds. 
 
 on tlie 
 
 ^^eorge 
 
 the liar 
 
 fis Jack 
 
 tliese, I; 
 
 him, af 
 
 two or i 
 
 the resj 
 
 George, 
 
 Meacl 
 
 f>'> uj>pe] 
 
 J>orarily 
 
 wliere tli 
 
 W- gave 
 
 and on tJ 
 
 new agen 
 
 ^''•'ing tJi; 
 
 sul)sisten( 
 
 f<»u]d not 
 
 nient, mi 
 
 'Substitute 
 
 *>nly at K 
 
 ♦astern O 
 
 California 
 
 As if t( 
 
 Jninianity, 
 
 J'l'essjon'u 
 
 ^•''ve<I am 
 
 •'"ippliod, r 
 
 ''<lis, and 
 
 ^<iiid influ( 
 
 •^l»nng Jio J( 
 
 ^\v<» IiundrL 
 
 liver to fis 
 
 And it was 
 
 t > compel t 
 
 f"f<>nnatior 
 '''•^'<ling at 
 "l">'i tJie ofl 
 
SUPERINTENDENT MEACHAM. «n 
 
 on the south side of Tule lake, leavinj^ two suh-chiefa, 
 (Joorge and Kiddle, with the women and children, in 
 the hands of the superintendent. Meachara did not, 
 as Jack hoped, return at once to the reservation witli 
 those, but remained in camp, and sent m«^ssengers to 
 him, after wliich diplomatic correspondence, lasting 
 two or three days, Jack finallv consented to vco witli 
 the rest upon tlie reservation, saying, however, to 
 George, that he did not intend to stay. 
 
 Meacham established Jack's band at Modoc point 
 on ui)pcr Klamath lake, where Sconchin also was tem- 
 j)orarily located before removal to Camp Yainax, and 
 where they were to all appearance contentedly settled. 
 Ha gave them a supply of clothing nnd provisions, 
 and on the 1st of January, 1870, turned over to tlie 
 new agent at Klamath, (). C. Knapp, the business of 
 stehig that Crook's fears concerning their conifortablo 
 subsistence were not realized. For, as if tlic Indians 
 could not be wholly entrusted to the Indian depart- 
 ment, military officers were, in the autumn of IS(JI), 
 substituted for the agents previously employed, n«>t 
 onl\' at Klamath, l)ut at each of the reservations in 
 eastern Oregon, and on many of the reservations in 
 California and elsewhere. 
 
 As if to sustain the military character for superior 
 humanity, and also perha]>s to make a favorable im- 
 jiression upon Jack's band, while all the Indians r*'- 
 ciived ample allowances the.se were particularly well 
 supplied, rec(>iving more in proportion than the Klani- 
 aths, and beinsjf favored in other wavs. But to these 
 kind influences Jack was hisensible. l*]arly in the 
 s[)ring he left the reservation with all his peojile, a'xiut 
 two hundred and fifty in number, and returned ti' L(»st 
 liver to fish and to be within easy reaeli of Vrekii. 
 And it was evident that f )rce would have to b<' used 
 to compel this band to remain upon the reservation. 
 Information was at once sjnt to the supeiintendent, 
 residing at Salem, who chereupon made a deniaiid 
 upon tlie officer in command at the fort to take nieas- 
 
 
 ( i 
 
 ■4| 
 
 

 4S2 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 ures to return these Indians, which effort for some 
 time, however, roniained uiiattenipted. In the mean- 
 time misunderstandings arose between the superin- 
 tendent and the agent, the former accusing tlie latter 
 of allowing the Klaniaths to ceaselessly annoy and 
 insult the Modocs, whom he had ordered to change 
 their location, and surrounded them with Klamaths, 
 to their great dissatisfaction, under a pretense of pre- 
 venting their escape. 
 
 If tlierc was one thing more than another on which 
 Superintendent Meacham prided himself, it was his 
 knowledge of and iuHuenee over Indians. Like Steele, 
 wlio had accepted the chieftainship of Jack's band in 
 18(14, lie was flattered by being looked '.ip to by sav- 
 ages. He had a theory that if a man only felt suffi- 
 <'i<ntly hiw connnon brotherhood with the wild men, 
 he Would be able to control them tlirouglt their affec- 
 tions; and although Jack seemed rather an unprom- 
 ising sul)je('t for such practise, he anticipated the 
 gnater distinction from success. He was, therefore, 
 indignant when it was reported to him that Knapj» 
 had (lone anything to disi*lease Captain Jack, wlio, he 
 Kild, could not be blanuxl for leaving the reservation 
 under the circumstances-'. 
 
 The cireumstanees as alleged by Ja.ck were, that 
 his people were obliged to labor at making raihs, that 
 tliey had little tv) eat, that the watir on the r< serva- 
 tion was frozen, and that Captain Knapp n)oved thtiii 
 from place to place; to which Knapp replied that 
 they were ])laeed at Tvfodoe point at their own re 
 quest, and their pr<!pused itMuoval, about tlie 1st oC 
 A[>ii!, was to a Muital)le [)lace for opening farms and 
 for obtaining wood and grass. It was this prosju-ct 
 of having to allow his men tt> be degraded by labor, 
 instead of living off tlio sale of women and childn ii. 
 which hastened Ca{)tain Jack's departure. Meacha;ii 
 tJiouglitdifferently ; and in his dissatisfaction requested 
 that some distinct special regulatitnis should be p?". 
 mulgated, whereby tlie relative })Ositious of tlie militai \ 
 
 and 
 
 rassr 
 
 TJ 
 
 from 
 
 the a 
 
 it wi 
 
 office] 
 
 diaas 
 
 tJiat i 
 
 negloc 
 
 the bli 
 
 at tJio 
 
 .judg/)! 
 
 that h( 
 
 turn if 
 
 A yc 
 
 was (lor 
 grown 1 
 Vr'ven tc 
 tho nn'n 
 taken t 
 fno oust 
 1-lass w 
 sihlo jH 
 miles s( 
 Californ 
 prop().sG( 
 •^00 Mo( 
 f!r])ersu 
 was to( 
 
 <'xaminin 
 ,irer»era]l 
 'ia\i()r (I 
 ^•'ft to his 
 him. 
 
 In Au 
 "land of t 
 Canliy, ai 
 
 ) ; 
 
"WISDOM AND STRENGTH. 
 
 458 
 
 antl Indian departments micfht be understood, embar- 
 rassment removed, and harmony made possible. 
 
 Tliat there was some such necessity is apparent 
 from the fact that enmity existed between Knapp of 
 the agency and Goodale of the fort. Knapp, tliough 
 it WIS Jiis duty to have called upon the commandiii;^ 
 otficer of Foi*t Klamath to brinjj the abscondinu; In- 
 tlians back, neglecte<l to do so, ujwn his own belief 
 tliat the force at that post was insufficient. This 
 ne^dcct caused Goodale to be censured, who placed 
 tlie blame very promptly where it belonjjjed; thou«;h 
 at the same time he was compelled to a<hnit that the 
 judgment of Knaj>p in this matter was ct)rrect, and 
 that ho had not force sufficient to compel Jack to re- 
 turn if he did not wisli to, as plainly he did not. 
 
 A year and a half elapsed, during which nothing 
 was done to bring back the absentees. Captain Ja(k, 
 grown bolder tlirough success, and theencouragenitiit 
 given to li'ia rebellion by that class of men known in 
 tiie minos as "squaw men," meaniiiLC men wlio had 
 taken to wife Indian women, either witli or without 
 tuo customary marriage ceremonies, and by other low- 
 rl.vss whitA>8, if not by the advice of some more respoii- 
 siUlo jKjirson, made him set up a claim to a tract six 
 miles sijuare, lyhig on both sides of the Oregon and 
 California line, near the head of Tule lake, where l.e 
 proposed to establish liimself as chief of the '200 or 
 .'500 Modoc men, women, and children whom ho had so 
 far j)ersua.detl to follow him. Superintendent ^leacham 
 was too nmch o<^cupied with (N)nunissioner Brunot in 
 examininijf into tlie condition of the Indians of Oregon 
 generally to give his personal attention to the be- 
 havior of Captain Jack, whom he the more willingly 
 left to Ills own devices because he sympathized with 
 
 In August 1870 Crook was relieved from the com - 
 I'liind of the department of the Columbia by General 
 Cunl)y, and sent to fight the Indians in Arizona. For 
 
454 
 
 SOME, IXDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 the suiiie purpose the military stations in Oregon were 
 (leplotcd, there being but one company, K, of the 2od 
 infantry, at Fort Klamath, under Lieutenant Goixlale, 
 and no cavalry ; while at Camp Warner, the nearest 
 post to Klamath, there was one company of cavalry 
 and one of infantry. It could not be expected that 
 one of these posts could assist the other, each having 
 t(j keep in check a thousand savages, who might at 
 any moment take advantage of relaxed vigilance to 
 renew hostilities. Wherefore Jack continued to re- 
 side at Lost river, visiting the reservation from time 
 to thne, clandestinely, to draw away other ^lodocs. 
 
 But Sconchin, the liead-chief of the tribe was able 
 to kec[» a minority of the people on tiie reservation, 
 }Iistory repeats itself m the wilderness as wdl as on 
 the asjics of Empire. An Indian nmst be old to lia\ *; 
 any wisdom; it is always the "young mi-n" who can- 
 not be controlled, and who are the Icadt-rs in war. 
 Sconchin had enjoyed his day as the blood-thirsty 
 enemy of the white race, and many were the victims 
 of his savage ferocity, when from a watch tower in 
 Clear lake his spies looked for the dust of some 
 toilinor emii^rant train, for which he arraimed the am- 
 bush at Bloody }H»int. That was all changed now. 
 He had found the white men stronger than he, and 
 wisely consented to be forgiven, and fed for the re- 
 mainder of his days. B(vsides he was chief, and a 
 cliitf nmst have a respectable following; therefore liis 
 achice to the Modocs was to keep the treaty, and 
 avt)id hostilities with the Ufiited States government. 
 He had been rewarded for his good behavior by being 
 allowed to tjike his people to Camp Yainax, near liisi 
 former home, in S[»rague valley, about the time that 
 Jack left the reservation. 
 
 The Klamaths used formerly to be the friends of the 
 Modocs, though they seemed not to have be(>n so 
 thoroughly Imse in th<;ir dispositions. Under Lalako 
 they hail been known to be guilty of murder and 
 other atrocities ; but after coming on the reservation, 
 
 and 
 
 depo 
 
 the I 
 
 their 
 
 whici 
 
 form] 
 
 frient 
 
 KJaiij 
 
 with 
 
 cause 
 
 tJie ni 
 
 againt^ 
 
 tlie t\\ 
 
 enemy 
 
 until t 
 
 of Jac 
 
 Kiauia 
 
 I lia 
 
 i'lg nee 
 tJie wJi 
 
 ()r-or(,„ 
 
 iioissan* 
 to tlie i 
 J-ugone 
 «'i!id the 
 
 beilijr ui 
 of farine 
 imnjeroi 
 ridges, v 
 «iiid j\l(,t 
 settlers 
 over tile 
 the Tule 
 Since 
 *ion of tl 
 }>y Meac 
 ig'iorant- 
 leJt some 
 
ATTITUDE OF THE SAVAGES. 
 
 
 and being instructed, and especially after Lalake was 
 deposed and a reniarkublo youni^ savage, named by 
 the agent Alien David, i)ronioted to tlie chieftainship, 
 their ambition seemed to be to advance in civilization, 
 which they were aware could be done only by con- 
 forming to treaty regulations and cultivating the 
 friendship of the government. This conformity of the 
 Klamaths, a source of pride, and perhaps of boasting 
 with them, was obnoxious to Captain Jack, and a 
 cause of his late feeling of hostility to the Klamaths; 
 the more so that the latter had acted with the whites 
 against the lu>stile Snakes, and had hel[)ed to arrest 
 tl.e two Moilocs guilty of carrying amnmnition to the 
 enemy, and afterward held in chains at Fort Klamath 
 until the war ended. Such was the relative position 
 of Jack and his band to Sconchin's band and the 
 Klamaths in the summer of 1870. 
 
 I have elsewhere remarked that the constant scout- 
 ing necessary during the Indian wars had revealed to 
 the wliite men every feature of eastern and southern 
 Ongon, hitheiio but little known. Drew's rccon- 
 noissance from Fort Klamath to the Owyhee had led 
 to the construction of the central military road from 
 l^ugene city to the eastern boundary of the state; 
 and the adaptal)ility of the country to stock-raising 
 Ix'ing underst»)od, invited its settlement by that class 
 «»f furmers, who began to establish themselves in the 
 numerous small valleys lying between the frequent 
 ridges, very soon after the confirmation of the Klamath 
 and Modoc treiity; so that in 1870 there were many 
 settlers living in secluded homes miles apart, scattered 
 over the Klamath basin from the reservation south to 
 the Tule and Clear lakes. 
 
 Since Jack had resolved to lay claim to that por- 
 tion of the country about Tule lake — a claim favored 
 by Meacham, of which fact Jack could not have been 
 ignorant — tht; settlers in the vicinity of Lost river had 
 felt some uneasiness, which was increased to alarm 
 
456 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 when in August, Jack's band began to kill their cattle, 
 a sure indication of a deterniiiiation to bring on hos- 
 tilities. He hatl at this time about 200 followers, 
 S vmchin having succeeded in withdrawing from his 
 influence nearly seventy, who had been living at 
 Camp Yainax, and which addition to his following 
 made him the equal with Jack in point of numbers. 
 Just before depredations were begun, Agent Knapp 
 held a council with Jack, whom he met in Yreka, 
 when the latter informed him that he would not uro 
 upon the reservation, and refused even to come to 
 Camp Yainax to see the superintendent who was ex- 
 pected there. Having thus thrown down the gaunt- 
 let, it was but one step more to kill the stock of tlie 
 settlers. 
 
 Now commenced that preliminary warfare the 
 froiiticrsmen only too well understood. Roaming 
 about the country in small parties, selecting a time 
 when the men belonjjjini; to a farm were absent 
 from their houses to dash up to the doors on horse- 
 back, dismount and demand a cooked meal of the 
 frightened women, during the preparation of whicli 
 tliey freely occupied chairs or beds, making insulting 
 jiostures and remarks — these were the indications of 
 what was surely to follow. To these outrages tlic 
 settlers singly dared offer no resistance; nor could 
 tliey collectively have done more than to hasten the 
 outbreak. It was the duty of the superintendent to 
 call for the arrest of these savages, and of the com- 
 mander of Fort Klamath to perform i+^i; but for rea- 
 sons already alluded to, no arrests were made. 
 
 During the summer of 1871 the insolence of Jack's 
 band increased alarmingly. They frequently came 
 ujjon the reservation, and about Forts Klamath and 
 Warner, behaving in a defiant manner, saying that 
 they had friends in Yreka who gave them passes and 
 they should go wh ere they pleased. So far as the asser- 
 tion that they had "papers" was concerned, it was true 
 that they carried letters written by persons of presumed 
 
 respe 
 
 condi 
 
 some 
 
 vous 
 
 tiiat j 
 
 might 
 
 At 
 
 rostin< 
 
 irjg a 
 
 as he 
 
 hers ol 
 
 WIS so 
 
 tions, t 
 
 niakino 
 
 Indians 
 
 applicai 
 
 an attc 
 
 Klamat 
 
 ineff'ecti 
 
 (Iocs, th 
 
 l>y the i 
 
 InO( 
 vation, 
 superint 
 attempts 
 change ( 
 Jackson, 
 with liis 
 When A 
 of the CO 
 desired t 
 t'oee slioi 
 afc the sai 
 AppJegat 
 This desi 
 Canby, tl 
 P<-'id any 
 his follow J 
 
A UTTLE MURDER, 
 
 487 
 
 respectability living in Yreka, testifying to the good 
 conduct of Captain Jack ; and it was also true that 
 some of the settlers liviiiij nearest to Jack's rendez- 
 vous were averse to his heinsr removed, fei'linj; sure 
 that the attempt would bring on a conflict which 
 might prove fatal to them. 
 
 At length Jack precipitated the necessity for ar- 
 resting him by going ui)on the reservation and kill- 
 ing an Indian doctor of Sconchin's band, who 
 as he alle<'ed, had caused the death of two mem- 
 hers of his family. Whether he believed that this 
 was so, or only wished to carry out his defiant inten- 
 tions, the result was the same; the terms of the treaty 
 making it the duty of the government to defend tlie 
 Indians on the reservation from their enemies, and on 
 application of Ivan Applcgate, connnissary at Yuinax, 
 an attempt was made by the connnander at Fort 
 Klamath to arrest Jack, which effort was renderetl 
 ineffectual bv those white friends of the renejxade Mo- 
 docs, the squaw men, living along the route travelled 
 by the troops in going to Yreka. 
 
 In October 1870 Agent Knapp of Klamath reser- 
 vation, was relieved by John Meacham, brother of tlie 
 superintendent, who was in charge at the time of the 
 attempted arrest of Jack. There had also be(;n a 
 cliange of commanders at the fort. Captain James 
 Jackson, 1st cavalry, having been ordered to this post, 
 with his company, B, and to assume the command. 
 When Agent Meacham informed the superintendent 
 of the course pursued by the Motlocs, that functionary 
 desired that no arrests should be made until a confer- 
 ence should have been had with Jack and his band, 
 at the same time naming John Mcacliam and Ivan 
 A]>plegate as his representatives to confer with tlicm. 
 This desire havincj been connnunlcated to (General 
 Canby, that officer directed Captain Jackson to sus- 
 pend any measures lookhig to the arrest of Jack or 
 his followers until further advice, but to keep his com- 
 
45S 
 
 ROME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 inantl in reatliness to act promptly and efficiently f.>r 
 tho protection of the settlers in the vicinity, should 
 the conduct of the Indians make it necessary. At 
 the same tune a confidential order was issued to the 
 commandin*; officer at Vancouver to place in ett'ective 
 condition for field service two companies of infantry 
 at that post. 
 
 In the meantime the superintendent was pursuing 
 his temporizing [)olicy, advising the government to stul- 
 tify itself by yielding to the demands of these Indians, 
 and setting the example to other discontented hands, of 
 which the warlike Snakes constituted several, to make 
 similar requirements. His recommendations were 
 met by counter advice from other persons interested in 
 tho proper settlement of the Indian question, and were 
 not yet acted upon; while the encouragement thus 
 held out to Jack's band to consider the Lost river 
 country as their own, was doing its work in augmcnt- 
 inir their stubbornness and insolence. 
 
 John Meacham, acting under instructions from the 
 superintendent, sent Sconchin to find Jack and en- 
 deavor to obtain a conference. Sconchin carried a 
 letter to a man named Fairchild, living on the road 
 from Tule lake to Yreka, well known to the Indians, 
 and influential among them. Fairchild and Schoii- 
 chin, together, found and conversed with Jack, wlio 
 would not agree to the proposition for a conference, 
 and Sconchin returned to Camp Yahiax. 
 
 In the early part of the summer of 1871, Jesse Ap- 
 plegate settled at Clear lake upon a tract of land 
 owned by J. D. Carr, and lying partly in Oregon and 
 partly in California, which was selecte«l as a stoc k 
 rancho from the swamp lands of the states, and of 
 which Applegate v/as agent. On the settlement hv- 
 ing made at Clear lake, Jack demanded of Applegate 
 a stated allowance of subsistence in consideration of 
 having permission to settle in the country that le 
 claimed, which demand was promptly refused, Apple- 
 
 gate 
 
 sessnj 
 India 
 by A| 
 friend 
 riors, 
 
 people 
 coniph 
 the su 
 to obtii 
 was gi' 
 Would 
 time in 
 tonduci 
 At 1 
 tliat he 
 JJointed 
 l)rovidei 
 tended 
 liave wi 
 inent Je 
 Vainax, 
 paired i 
 white n 
 The dist 
 arrived i 
 surround 
 featliers 
 Tlie c( 
 onibarras 
 occupied 
 military 
 iuvectivp, 
 'onnnissic 
 as a reaso 
 I>o fearec 
 yainax, w 
 ^iom the 
 
COMMISSION AXD CONFERENCE. 
 
 450 
 
 gate not choosing to recognize his right to levy as- 
 sessments on citizens residing on land to whidi the 
 Indian title had ijeen extinguished. On this retusid 
 by Applegate, Jim, one of the firmest of Jack's cliostii 
 friends, at the head of fifteen or twenty V(»uu*' war- 
 riors, set out upon a tour of the farms in Sangtll val- 
 Ky, lying to the north of Clear lako, alarming the 
 people by their insolent behavior, and causing thom to 
 complain to the agent at Yaiiiax, and through him to 
 the superintendent. These things led to the attempt 
 to obtain a conference with Jack, to secure which he 
 was given to understand that the killing of the doctor 
 would be overlooked, and he allowed to remain forthe 
 time in the Lost river country upon his promise to 
 conduct himself peaceably. 
 
 At length he hiformed Applcgate of Clear lake 
 tliat he would consent to see the connnissioners ap- 
 jiointed by the superintendent to confer with him, 
 l)rovided they would come to him at Clear lake, at- 
 tended by not more than four men, he agreeing to 
 liave with him the same number. On t\ '\s aimouncc- 
 inent Jesse Applegate sent a mes.senger in haste to 
 Yainax, and Ivan Applegate and John Meacham re- 
 paired at once to the rendezvous, attended by two 
 white men and two Indians from the reservation. 
 The distance to be travelled- was sixty miles, and they 
 arrived there on the 15th, where they found Jack 
 surrounded by twenty-nine warriors in the paint and 
 feathers of war. 
 
 The conference opened awkwardly, Jack seeming 
 embarrassed and dismclined to talk. But Black Jim 
 occupied some time in denouncing the officers of the 
 military and Indian departments in terms of bitter 
 iuvectivp, after which Jack found words, and gave the 
 connnissioners a history of his grievances. He gave 
 as a reason for not returning to the reservation that 
 lie feared the Klamath "medicine," though Camp 
 Yainax, where the Modocs were living, was forty miles 
 from the Klamath agency. He complained that the 
 
 
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IMAGE EVALUATION 
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 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. M580 
 
 (716) 873-4503 
 

 
 
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m 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 Klarnaths made him angry by assuming to own the 
 wood, grass, and water on the reservation, drawing 
 an effective picture of the miseries of such a state <-f 
 dependence. He denied that his people had ever done 
 anything to disturb the settlers, though they had in 
 the summer of 1870 driven away several families who 
 had settled around the north end of Tule lake the 
 previous winter, when Jack and his band were on the 
 reservation, where he was expected to remain. H. 
 F. Miller subsequently returned, and made some ar- 
 rangement with the Indians, paying them an assess- 
 ment, and being one of those whites opposed to the 
 removal of the Indians from interested motives. Jack 
 demanded to know who had given information against 
 him, but the knowledge was withheld, for obvious 
 reasons. 
 
 The conference amounted to this, that Jack prom- 
 ised to listen to the agent's advice, not to do anything 
 to annoy the settlers, and not to resist tlie military, 
 and was given permission to remain where he was 
 until the superintendent should come to see them. 
 Agent Meacham vrote to the superintendent that no 
 danger was to be apprehended at that time of any 
 serious trouble between the Modocs and the settlers. 
 Yet on that same night, after the commissioners had 
 started on their return to Yainax, it was warmly de- 
 bated in the Modoc camp whether or not to open hos- 
 tilities at once by killing the Clear lake settlers. 
 
 The report of Meacham's conference with Jack, and 
 his assurance that no immediate danger existed, was 
 communicated by the superintendent to Canby, wlio 
 in turn communicated the same to the commander of 
 the division at San Francisco, and the matter restetl. 
 This impression was strengthened by the report of the 
 military hispector, Ludingttm, who entered Oregon 
 from the south by the route passing by camps Bid- 
 well, Warner, and Harney, that the people along the 
 route seemed free from any fear of Indians, and that 
 any rumors to the contrary were occasioned by the 
 
 petty 
 India] 
 \iolen 
 ing tl 
 Jucksc 
 not be 
 ailairs, 
 to giv( 
 tiers o: 
 reportc 
 But 
 atli, an 
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 affairs, 
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 n'turnii 
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 Thci 
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 l)c'en in 
 Mere n 
 Fort K 
 ill tlied( 
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 On 
 
 the peti' 
 
 '»o renio 
 
 less thai 
 
 roniovin; 
 
 acconipa 
 
 military. 
 
 To M 
 
 fonsiden 
 
 tlie pern 
 
SLUMBERING SORROWS. 
 
 461 
 
 petty annoyances of individuals or small parties of 
 Indians visiting the settlements, but unattended by 
 violence or threats. The military department, except- 
 ing the inspector, who did not visit Klamath, and 
 Jackson, who should have been better informed, could 
 not be blamed for not knowing the true position of 
 allairs, since it was the duty of the Indian department 
 to irive such information as the welfare of either set- 
 tiers or Indians required, and the superintendent had 
 repcjrted that there was no danger. 
 
 But so the settlers of Lost river, Link river, Klam- 
 ath, and Tule lake districts did not feel. On the con- 
 trary, they petitioned the superintendent of Indian 
 affairs, and the general commanding the department 
 of the Columbia, to remove the Modocs to the reser- 
 vation, Raying that the conduct of the Indians was 
 such that they dared not allow their families to remain 
 ill the country, and in fact a number of families were 
 removed to Rogue River valley, in anticipation of a 
 conflict with the Modocs, some families going and 
 returning several times as they were more or less 
 alarmed. 
 
 The petition of the settlers did not reach headquar- 
 ters until late in January 1872, though it nmst have 
 been in the superintendent's hands. That complaints 
 were made by the citizens to the commander at 
 Fort Klamath is shown by the correspondence on file 
 in tlie department. Captain Jackson having been asked 
 to be more explicit in making statements. 
 
 On the 25th of January tlie superintendent sent 
 tlic petition to Canby, witli a request that the Modocs 
 lie removed to Camp Yainax, and suggt sting that not 
 less than fifty troops be sent to perform the duty of 
 ronioving them. Jesse Api>logate was instructed to 
 accompany the expedition, if not objected to by the 
 military. 
 
 To Meacham's letter, Canby replied that he had 
 considered the Modoc question temporarily settled by 
 the permission given them to remain where the com- 
 
402 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 missioners had found them in the previous August ; 
 and that he did not tliink it would be expedient to 
 send a military torce against them until they had been 
 notified of the determination of the government to 
 make the change contemplated, and notice given of 
 ^he point selected, as well as the time fixed upon for 
 removal ; but that in the meantime the commanding 
 officer at Fort Klamath would be directed to take all 
 necessary measures to protect the settlers, or to aitl 
 in the removal of the Modocs should forcible means 
 be required. 
 
 In reply to Canby, Meacham gave as a reason for 
 previous action that in his report for 1871, he had 
 recommended that a small reservation be made for 
 the Modocs at the north end of Tule lake, but 
 that the department had not yet taken any action in 
 the matter; and accounted for his change of policy in 
 asking for their removal to Yainax by saying that 
 they had agreed to remain where the council was hold 
 at Clear lake, whereas they were then at Tule lake, 
 sixty miles from the council ground, and had conse- 
 quently forfeited all claims to forbearance. He re- 
 peated his request f jr their removal to the reservation, 
 and recommended that Captain Jackson be instructed 
 to arrest Jack, and five or six of his head men, and 
 hold tliem in confinement until further orders were 
 received from Washington: but the militarv orders 
 sliow that Jackson was only instructed to keep the 
 department informed of the condition of affairs rela- 
 tive to the Modocs. 
 
 There was at this time a continual interchange of 
 correspcmdence between the superintendent and 
 Canby; and it appears that Meacham was able to 
 thoroughly infuse into the mind of the general tliat 
 the Modocs were in the position of a helpless and in- 
 jured people, who had been driven from the reserva- 
 tion by their enemies the Klamaths. In a letter to 
 Canby dated February 18, 1872, he repeated that 
 they were abused by the Klamaths, and that the sub- 
 
 con fo 
 
APPEAL TO AUTHORITIES. 
 
 468 
 
 agent failing to protect them they left the reserva- 
 tion, having been upon it but three months, in the 
 winter of 186'J-70. Why they had refused to come 
 upon tlie reservation before that time, he did not say, 
 nor make any reference to the fac that they were 
 coerced into connng at tliat time; and that conse- 
 quently their dislike to the reservation did not have 
 its foundation in the conduct of the Klamaths during 
 those three months. Thus while Canby was asked to 
 compel the Modocs to go upon their reservation, he 
 was furnished with a cogent reascm for hesitating to 
 do so; and was placed by the statements of the sup- 
 erintendent of Indian aifairs in the position too often 
 occupied by the military department, of opposition to 
 the people whose property and lives were involved. 
 And not only Canby, but the commander of the 
 division, who received his information from Canby, 
 was influenced in like manner. 
 
 Alarmed by the delay in arresting Jack and his 
 confederates, a petition was forwarded by the people 
 of Klamath basin to Governor Grover, of Oregon, to 
 urge the superintendent to remove the Modocs, or in 
 c;ue this was not done, to authorize the organization 
 of a company of mounted militia, to be raised in the 
 settlements for three months' service, unless sooner 
 discharged by the governor. In this petition the set- 
 tlers reiterated their former statements, saying they 
 had been harassed for four years by the Modocs, 
 who were about 250 in number, with about eighty 
 warriors every day growing more insolent. 
 
 The military, said the petitioners, are keen to ex- 
 tend the desired protection, but are subject to the 
 superintendent's order, who has turned a deaf ear to 
 our numerous petitions; and unless the governor 
 could help them there was no further authority to 
 wliich they could appeal. They were scattered over 
 a large area of country, and in case of an outbreak the 
 loss of life would be heavy, a contingency they were 
 seeking to avoid 
 
 18 ' 
 
464 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 Governor Grover at once called upon Superintend- 
 ent Meacham, who thus urged renewed his applica- 
 tion to General Canby for troops to arrest Jack, 
 seconded by a letter from the governor. To this 
 application Canby replied that he had sent an order 
 to the connnanding officer of the district of the lakes 
 to establish in the threatened neighborhood a cavalry 
 force sufficient to protect the settlers; adding that 
 until the questions submitted by the superintendent 
 to the commissioners- of Indian affairs at Washington 
 should be settled, it was his duty to prevent a war if 
 possible; but if that could not be done, all the forces 
 needed to suppress the Indians would be applied. 
 According to these instructions Major E. Otis sent a 
 detachment of fifty cavalry and three officers to es- 
 tal>lish a temporary camp in the Lost river district, 
 wiiicli for the time relieved tlie settlers without re- 
 liioving the cause of their anxiety. 
 
 Early in April Meacham was relieved of the 
 superintendency, and L. B. Odeneal appointed in his 
 place. The position, owing to the Modoc difficulty, 
 was not without serious responsibilities, and so Ode- 
 neal felt it to be. One of his first acts was to take 
 counsel of Major Otis in regard to the propriety of 
 permitting Jack's band to remain any longer where 
 they were. Otis made a formal recommendation in 
 writing, that the permission given them by Meacham 
 the previous August should be withdrawn, and they 
 be directed to go upon the reservation ; but that the 
 order should not be given before September, so that 
 in case they refused, the military authorities coukl 
 put them upon it during the winter season, which was 
 considered the most favorable time for the under- 
 taking. Otis further recommended placing Jack and 
 Black Jim on the Siletz reservation, or any other 
 place of banishment from their people; and stated as 
 his reason for this advice that in his judgment there 
 would be no peace for the people, to whom they were 
 
THE HATEFUL RESERVATION. 
 
 4G5 
 
 insolent and insulting, so long as permitted to roam 
 about the country, without the presence of a consid- 
 erable military force to compel good behavior. In 
 order to make room for the Modocs, and remove all 
 cause of complaint it was proposed to place Otseho's 
 band of Snakes, together with Wcwawewa's and some 
 others, on a reservation in the Malheur country. The 
 same suggestion was made in a communication to 
 Canby April 15th. 
 
 While these matters were under discussion an 
 order arrived from the commissioner of Indian affairs 
 to remove the Modocs, if practicable, to the reserva- 
 tion already set apart for them under the treaty of 
 October 1864, and to see that they were properly pro- 
 tected from the Klamaths — showing that Jack's story 
 of abuse had reached Washington. The superintend- 
 ent, if he could not remove them, or could not keep 
 them on the reservation, was instructed to report his 
 views of locating them at some other point, naming 
 and describing such place as he selected. 
 
 Not wishing to make the journey to Klamath, 
 Odeneal wrote to agent Dyar at the reservation and 
 Commissary Ivan Applegate, at Yainax, to see Cap- 
 tain Jack, and endeavor to persuade him to return to 
 the reservation. Previous to this order, on the 3d of 
 March, Major Otis had made an attempt similar to 
 the one now required of the agent at Klamath. By 
 means of his Indian scouts under Donald McKay, he 
 o[)cned communication with Jack, assuring him of 
 the peaceable nature of his mission, and inviting him 
 to meet him at Linkville, a settlement founded by 
 George Nourse at the lower end of the upper Kla- 
 math lake. But Jack declined to meet the major 
 anywhere but in his own country. After considerable 
 negotiation it was arranged that the meeting should 
 take place at Lost river gap, the soldiers to be left 
 at Jjinkville, and Jack's warriors, except half a dozen 
 men, to be left away from the council ground. Otis 
 went to the rendezvous with Agent High, two gf 
 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 30 
 
466 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 the Applcgates, three or four settlers as witnesses, 
 and three or f«)ur Klamath scouts, and found Jade 
 awaitint^ him with thirty-nine figliting men, as on a 
 previous oceasit)n he had met Meacliam. The council 
 proved as little productive <( satisfactory results as 
 the former one. 
 
 When the order came from the commissioner 
 through Suiierintendent Odeneol to inform the ^lo- 
 docs of the wish of the government that they should 
 comply with their treaty obligations, Schonchin was 
 emi)loyed to act as messenger and arrange for a con- 
 ference. As before he required the agents of the 
 government to come to him, and the rendezvous was 
 appointed at the military camp at Juniper sj)rings on 
 Lost river. Dyar and Api)legate, attended by the hvm I 
 men of the reservation Modocs, met Jack and his favor- 
 ite warriors on the 14th of !May, when every argument 
 and inducement was held out to influence them to 
 keep the treaty ; but all to no puqv)se. Promises of 
 ample protection, subsistence, and privileges were of 
 no effect. The unalterable reply of Jack was ever to 
 the effect that he should stay where he was, and 
 would not molest settlers if they did not locate them- 
 selves on the west side of Lost river near the moutii, 
 where he had his winter camp. The settlers he s;ii(l 
 were always lying about him and trying to make 
 trouble; but his people were good people and would 
 not frighten or kill anybody. He desired only ])ea( e, 
 and was governed by the advice of the people of 
 Yreka who knew and understood him. 
 
 At this conference Sconchin made a strong appeal 
 to the Modocs, urging them to accept the benefits of 
 the reservation, and pointing out the danger of resist- 
 ing the efforts of the government to induce them to 
 comply with the terms of the treaty. But all was in 
 vain, and Jack as heretofore occupied his position of 
 defiance to the government. 
 
 As the commissioners were instructed, in case the 
 Modocs refused to go upon the reservation, to select 
 
 and t 
 
 po.se ( 
 
 repor 
 
 had b 
 
 purpo 
 
 uj), ar 
 
 as stat 
 
 in thei 
 
 their n 
 
 fore, tJ 
 
 TJiis 
 
 forwan 
 
 Walkei 
 
 W'liich y 
 
 taken t 
 
 should i 
 
 roniovec 
 
 pJishnic; 
 
 On recei 
 
 tlie com 
 
 der to r( 
 
 tion, "p, 
 
 tlie time 
 
 Onth 
 
 conferen< 
 
 quiet, gi' 
 
 that tinu 
 
 tJirougli 
 
 londerint 
 f'oniment 
 fa nip, to 
 
 tiy. Tin 
 
 the last c 
 the troopi 
 
 excitemen 
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 roservatioi 
 beliaved ii 
 to the res( 
 
ATTITUDE OF THE MODOCS. 
 
 407 
 
 and describe some other location favorable to the pur- 
 pose of carrying out the attempt to tame thorn, they 
 re[)orted that no situation outside of the reservation ♦ 
 had been found so suitable as the reserve itself for the 
 purpose, all the good agricultural land being taken 
 u[), and most of the grazing land having been locat«d 
 as state land In additit)n, the settlers were determined 
 in their opposition to having the Modocs located in 
 their midst at Lost river. They recommended, there- 
 fore, that they be placed on the reservation. 
 
 This report being sent to the superintendent was 
 forwarded to the commissioner at Washington, F. A. 
 Walker, together with his own opinion on the subject, 
 which was that the head men should be arrested and 
 taken to some point remote from their tribe until they 
 sliould agree to keep the laws, and the remainder b^ 
 removed to Yainax; the time suggested for the accom- 
 plishment of this plan being the last of Septend)er. 
 On receiving thisconmiunication, which was approved 
 the commissioner issueil to the superintendent an or- 
 der to remove the Modocs to the Klamath reserva- 
 tion, "peaceably if you can, forcibly if you must," at 
 the time suggested. 
 
 On the 11th of ^lay, Otis reported that since his 
 conference with them in March, the Modocs had been 
 quiet, giving no cause of complaint. They Were at 
 that time scattered from Yreka to Camp Yainax, and 
 through the mountains in the vicinity of Lost river, 
 rendering the camp at that place useless, and he re- 
 commended its withdrawal, proposing instead of a 
 camp, to make an occasional tour through the coun- 
 try. The troops were accordingly withdrawn about 
 the last of the month. No sooner, however, were 
 tlie troops returned to Fort Klamath, than the same 
 excitement prevailed as before. Captain Jack with 
 I'orty armed men presented himself at a camp of the 
 roservation Indians, off on their summer furlough, and 
 behaved in such a manner as to frighten them back 
 to the reservation in great haste. The settlers were 
 
SOME IXDIAX KPISODES. 
 
 liardly less alarmed, and talked of or^anizini^ a militia 
 coinj)any for protection. The usual corresiH)n(leni'o 
 followed between the Indian and military departments, 
 Canby assuring the superintendent that the settlors 
 would be protected. 
 
 While the Modoc question was thus approaching a 
 climax, influences unknown to the departments were at 
 work to confirm Captain Jack in his defiant course, 
 his friends in Yreka having encouraged him to believe 
 that an arrangement could bo made by which he could 
 remain at Lost river by offering to secure the per- 
 mission of the ijovernment. This offer led to furtlicr 
 opposition by the Modocs, who in their ignorance of 
 government affairs, and respect for Steele — whom they 
 still regarded as clothed with authority to direct them, 
 and whom they trusted as their confidential friend— ^ 
 believed they would be defionded in resisting the au- 
 thorities in Oregon — a mistake which was to lead to 
 the most deplorable consequences. 
 
 It was now definitely settled by the proper author- 
 ities that the Modocs were to be removed to the res- 
 ervation before winter. For this purpose superintend- 
 ent Odeneal repaired to Klamath where he arrived 
 on the 25th of November, whence he sent James 
 Brown, of Salem, and Ivan Applegate to Lost river 
 to request the Modocs to meet him at Linkville on 
 the 27th. At the same time the messengers were in- 
 structed to say that the superintendent had only the 
 kindest feelings for them ; that he had made ample 
 provision for their comfortable support at Yainax, 
 where, if they would go within a reasonable time, 
 they should be fairly dealt with and fully protected ; 
 and if they would go there at once with Applegate, 
 he would meet them there, but if they refused he re- 
 quired them to meet him at Linkville in order that a 
 final understanding with them might be had. 
 
 Captain Jackson had been superseded in the com- 
 mand of Fort Klamath by Major Hunt, who in turn 
 
CArTAIN JACK DEFIANT. 
 
 4m 
 
 was relieved July 17, 1872, by Major John Green, in 
 counuand at this time. ^lajor Otis had also been re- 
 lieved of the connnand of the district of the Lakes, 
 June 18th, by Colonel Frank Wheaton, "Jlst infantry. 
 To Wheaton, Odeneal addressed a communication at 
 the same time, informing him of the purpose of his 
 visit, to carry out the instructions of the conunissionor 
 to remove the Modocs to the reservation. Odeneal 
 had been of the opinion, when he came into office, 
 that force would not be necessary; but on learning 
 more about the matter, and conferring with Ivan 
 Applegate, he asked to have a force in readiness suffi- 
 cient to overawe the Indians, should they prove refrac- 
 tory on receiving his message, so sugixestinjj: to Wheaton 
 in preferring his request to have the troops ready 
 for immediate action in case they were needed. 
 
 On the 27th the superintendent, in company with 
 Dvar from the Klamath agency, went to Lhikville to 
 meet the Modocs, as he had appointed, but there 
 found only his messengers, who informed him of Jack's 
 refusal either to go upon the reservation or to meet 
 liim at Link\ ille. "Say to the superintendent," said 
 Jack, who with a part of his men was in camp at Lost 
 river, "that we do not wish to see him, or to talk 
 Mith hhn. We do not want any white men to tell us 
 what to do. Our friends and counsellors are men in 
 Yreka. They tell us to stay where we are, and we 
 intend to do so, and will not go upon the reservation. 
 I am tired of being talked to, and am done talking." 
 
 It being now apparent that nothing short of an 
 armed force could influence these Indians to submit to 
 the government, the superintendent sent a report of 
 tlie late conference of his messengers with Captain 
 Jack, and of the reply of Jack to his proposals, together 
 with the order of the commissioner, to Green, with a 
 request that he should furnish sufficient force to com- 
 ]>el the Modocs to go upon their reservation ; and in 
 case it became necessary to use compulsorj' measures, 
 to arrest first of all Jack, Black Jim, and Scarfaced 
 
 
m 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISOPES. 
 
 Charley, holding them subject tt) his orders. In re- 
 ply to this demand, Green sent word that Jackson 
 would at once leave the iK)8t with about thirty men. 
 
 It had never been in contemplation by the superin- 
 tendent or agents, or by General Canby, that any 
 number of troops under fifty should attempt to arn st 
 Jack and his head men. Indeed, the general had is- 
 sued a special order early in September, giving the 
 commander of the district of the Lakes control of the 
 troops at Fort Klamath, that in an emergency he 
 might have men enough to make the attempt at re- 
 moval successful. On receiving these instructions 
 Wheaton rei)lied that he had directed Green to keij* 
 him fully and promptly advised by courier of any 
 change in the attitude of the Modocs, and should it 
 be necessarv he should move into the Modoc country 
 with every available mounted man from Camp Har- 
 ney, Bidwell, Warner, and Klamath. 
 
 Had a strong force of cavalry been called out, and 
 proceeded with proper caution, doubtless the arrest 
 might have been made. But the officers at Foit 
 Klamath flattered themselves that the Indians would 
 yield at once to the troops, the more so that tlie 
 weather was stormy and uii worable to escape. 
 Green, therefore, after despatching a courier to 
 Wheaton, did not wait for instructions or reenforcc - 
 ments, but sent upon this doubtful errand a force of 
 thirty-six men, believing that if surprised the Indians 
 would surrender. 
 
 The troops left Fort Klamath at noon on the 28th 
 of November, officered by Jackson, Boutelle, and 
 McEldery. Odeneal, who had sent his messenger 
 Brown to notify all settlers who would be endangeiod 
 by an unsuccessful engagement with the Indians, also 
 met Jackson on the road about one o'clock on tlio 
 morning of the 29th, and directed him to say to the 
 head men of the Modocs that he had not come to 
 tight them, but to conduct them peaceably to Yainax, 
 
ATTACK OF TIIK TROOPS. 
 
 471 
 
 "whorc arrangeinenta had been made for thoir rccop- 
 tit)ii ; not t<) fire a gun except in seH'-defeiuo, afcer 
 they had first fired upon him; and in every way to 
 guard against any appearance of hostility. 
 
 Guided by Ivan A])plegate, the troops moved on 
 through a heavy rainstorm, arriving near Jack's cam}) 
 about daybreak. Jacksi)n then formed his troops in 
 hue and advanced rapidly ujwn the Modocs wJio 
 were surprised but not unprepared. Halting his men 
 at tiie edge of tlie camp, Jacks»)n called to them to 
 lay down their arms and surrender, Applegate inter- 
 preting and explaining the meaning of the visit, ask- 
 ing them to yield to the authority of the Indian de- 
 jKii-tnient. A part of them seemed willing to do so, 
 but Scarfaced Charley, Black Jim, and some others 
 retained their guns making hostile demonstratioi ;. 
 
 Three-quarters of an hour was spent in parleying, 
 during which UicbO few leaders grew more detcrminr<!, 
 and at loi\',rth Jackson ordered Boutelle t'> take some 
 men from the line and arrest them. As Boutelle ad- 
 vanced in front of his men, Scarfaced Charkv ex- 
 claimed with an oath that he would kill one officer, 
 and fired at him. This was the signal for hostilities 
 to commence. A volley from both sides opened 
 sinmltaneously, and Boutelle lost, almost at the first 
 volley, one man killed and seven wounded. The 
 troops kept up a rapid firing, killing in a short time 
 fifteen Indians. 
 
 Up to the time that firing commenced, Jack had 
 taken no part in the conversation, but lay sullenly in 
 his tent, refusing to come forth or make anv answer 
 to the propositions When hostilities began, how- 
 ever, he showed himself prepared and retreated 
 fighting. 
 
 Mr Applegate says that the Modocs had for a 
 long time vigilantly guarded against surprise; and 
 after Ivan and Brown had left, Jack gathered the 
 warriors, so that at the time of the fight their aggre- 
 gate number of men and boys capable of bearing 
 
 ¥ Hi 
 
 
472 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 arms was probably twice as great as at the time of 
 Ivan's visit. Every circumstance indicated that they 
 were prepared for any emergency. The horses were 
 all gathered hi bands near the encampments, and an 
 Indian evidently on guard, fired liis gun and ran for 
 camp shouting soldiers 1 soldiers 1 when Jackson's 
 troops first appeared. 
 
 The great error of attempting the arrest of the 
 Modoc leaders with so small a force became now ap- 
 parent. Had Jack and a few others been taken, 
 there would have been nothing to fear from the 
 others, who would have been restrained by apprehen- 
 sion ot' punishment falling on their leaders. But no 
 arrests being made, the advantage was all on the side 
 of the savages. The already too light force of Jack- 
 son was rendered less efficient by having to care for 
 the wounded whom he dared not leave in camp, kst 
 the Modoc women who still remained should kill and 
 mutilate them. Leaving only a light skirmish line in 
 charge of Boutelle, he was forced to employ the re- 
 mainder of his men in removing the dead and wounded 
 to the north side of the river in canoes, and thence 
 half a mile below to the cabin of one Dennis Crawley. 
 Having done this he returned to the southwest side 
 of the river and dismantled the Indian camp, destroy- 
 ing whatever property it contained, among otlier 
 things three rifles and two saddles found in Jack's 
 wickiup. In the meantime a party of settlers con- 
 sisting of Oliver Applegate, James Brown, J. Bur- 
 nett, Dennis Crawley, E. Monroe, Thurber, Caldwell, 
 and others, who had collected at Crawley's to await 
 the event of the attempted arrest, attacked a smaller 
 camp on the north side, and had one man, Thurbtr, 
 killed. They then retired to Crawley's i)lace, and 
 kept up firing at long range, preventing the Indians 
 from crossing the river and attacking Jackson's com- 
 mand on the flank and rear. Tv^hile the fight was 
 going on, two settlers William Nus and Joseph Pi'ii- 
 ning, coming up the road, unaware of danger, were 
 
OPENING OF TKE MODOC WAR. 
 
 I 
 
 473 
 
 fired upon and wounded, Nus fatally, within half a 
 mile of the house, which thev reached before Nus 
 died. Applegate, Brown, Burnett, and others then 
 v/eut in various directions to warn the settlers that 
 liostilities had begun, which left but a small force at 
 Crawley's to protect the wounded and the other 
 inmates. 
 
 During the forenoon Crawley came to Jackson with 
 the information that the Indians on the north side 
 under two noted Modocs, Hooker Jim, and Curly- 
 headed Doctor, were preparing to attack his place. 
 On this hiformation, he mounted his men and rode 
 rapidly up the river eight miles to the ford, wliere 
 alone the cavalry could cross, arriving at Crawley's 
 late in the afternoon. In the meantime the Indians 
 burned some hay, and conimitted some minor de[)re- 
 dations in sight of the troops. Darkness brought a 
 cessation of hostilities. 
 
 While these events were taking place, no one seemed 
 to have thought of the danger that threatened the 
 settlers in the lower country art»und Tule lake. Cap- 
 tain Jackson was ignorant that there were any inliab- 
 itants in the vicinity who had not been warned; but 
 on the morning of the 30th, having heard that there 
 was a family named Boddy about three and a l;alf 
 miles below Crawley's, he sent a detachment, guided 
 by Crawley, to ascertain their condition. At Boddy s 
 house no one was found; but everything being in order, 
 with no signs of violence, and the horses being In the 
 corral, Crawley came to the conclusion that the family 
 had been warned, and had tied southward, warning 
 thers, and he thereft)re returneil with a corresponding 
 report. Such, however, was imt the fact. 
 
 While the fight was g<nng on, during the morning 
 of the !21)th, a party of Modocs, escaping aiid making 
 their wav toward their afterward celebrated stronjrhold 
 m the lava beds, had killed three men and one boy of 
 this family who were found in the woods at work cut- 
 
 o 
 
474 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 tinsj and haulincj fire wood. The women, two m num- 
 ber, were permitted to escape. The Boddj family 
 consisted of William, his wife, his daughter and her 
 husband, Nicholas Schira, and his step-sous, William 
 and Richard Crav'^an. Mrs Schira's narrative was 
 suljstantially as follows : On the morning of the 2*Jth 
 Mr Schira was looking after some sheep on the border 
 of Tule lake, and came in during the forenoon with 
 some ducks he had shot, changing his muddy boots, 
 and afterward taking his team and going to the woods 
 for a load. Mrs Schira subsequently took the wet 
 boots out in the sun to dry them, and it being a quar- 
 ter past eleven, she thought it time for her husband 
 to be returning. Looking up the road, she saw the 
 team coming without a driver. She went up to the 
 mules and stopped them, took up the lines, and saw 
 that they were bloody. She informed her mother 
 that something had happened to her husband, and 
 after putting the animals in the stable, the two women 
 walked up tlie road together. About a half mile from 
 the house they found Schira, dead, shot through the 
 head with a revolver. Mrs Schira then remembered 
 her brother Richard, who would be coming home witli 
 her husband, and ran on, leaving her mother, who 
 could not keep up with her. As she ran, she saw 
 Hooker Jim's Indian wife emerge from the sage-brush, 
 and afterv/ard Hooker Jim, Curly-headed Doctor. 
 Long Jim, One-eyed Mose, Rock Dave, and Huuijjv 
 Jerry, all well-known Modocs. They did not inter- 
 cept her, but went toward her mother, who was still 
 beside the dead man, and asked her if there were any 
 men at the house. Knowing well that nmch depeiuh J 
 on her reply, she feigned not to understand their pur- 
 pose, answering, "No, the mules have run away ami 
 killed the driver, and I am looking for our men." At 
 this answer they left Mrs Boddy without molesting' 
 her, but could not have gone to the house, perliaps 
 fearing to find men there notwithstanding Mrs Bodd\ s 
 denial. Other Ijidians who came that way a day 
 
THE BODDYS AND BROTIIERTONS. 
 
 475 
 
 later robbed the place of $800, every article of value, 
 and t(j()k seven horses besides. The bodv of Schira, 
 wliicli was not mutilated when she left it, before she 
 saw it aixain was much mangled. After finding the 
 l)(>dy of her brother, Mrs Schira, with her mother, 
 tied over the timbered ridge toward Crawley's, but 
 while on the crest, happening to see the men gathered 
 at that place, they mistook them for Indians, and 
 turned toward the highest hills between them and 
 Linkville, where thev found snow Iving, through which 
 they travelled until late at night, when they sat down 
 under a juniper tree to wait for daylight, by whidi 
 time Mrs Schira's feet were so swollen that she could 
 not wear her shoes. Tearing up part of her dress, 
 Mrs Boddy bound up her daughter's f 'ct, and tlicy 
 continued their Hight, having eaten nothing since the 
 previous morning. When near the bridge on Lo.st 
 river, about halfway to liinkville, tluy were met by 
 Mr Cole, who conducted tliem to the bridge, from 
 which place they were taken to Linkville in a wagon 
 l)v Mr Roberts, where for the first time they heard 
 of the affair of the dav before, which had caused tiieir 
 terrible calamities. On the 2d of Drceinl)er Mrs 
 Sehira returned, with a party of f )ur volunteers, in a 
 wagon furnished l>y ]Mr Xourse, to look for her de-ad. 
 
 ()n arriving at Crawlev's she found that Boutelle 
 had that morning gone down with three men on the 
 same errand, and when he returned had found three 
 of the bodies, Schira, Boddv, and liichard Boddv. 
 The younger brother was not found for twelve days, 
 having fled, on being attacked, from tlie ])]ace where 
 he was herding slieep, and where they t!X}»ected to 
 find him, into the thick woods, where he was over- 
 taken and killed. The Boddv faniilv were from Aus- 
 tral'ia, and were industrious worthy ]>eoj)h\ 
 
 It did not appear that the part}' of Indians com- 
 mitted anv further nmrders that dav. On tlie follow- 
 nig day they killed a immber of persons about the 
 border of Tule lake, and among others their good 
 
476 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODE!?. 
 
 friend H. F. Miller, just when and how there were no 
 witnesses to relate. Living within seventy-five yards 
 of Miller's house was a family named Brotherton, 
 three men of which were killed. The remainder of 
 the familv would have shared the same fate but for 
 the courage of Mrs Brotherton, who defended her 
 house and children until relief arrived, three days 
 after the slaughter of her husband and sons. 
 
 The account Mrs Botherton gave when rcscuc<l 
 was. that on Saturday, the 30th of November, be- 
 tween two and three o'clock in the afternoon, she saw 
 at some distance approaching the house, eight Indian 
 men and eiixht women, who had the horses belon^ino- 
 to her husband. They surrounded the liouse of John 
 l?]iroeder, in sight of her own, and sliot Shroedcr, 
 who was on horseback, and who tried to escape by 
 running liis horse, but was overtaken and killed. 
 Joseph Brotherton, fifteen years of age, was in com- 
 pany with Shroeder, but being on foot, and t)nly a 
 boy, they gave all their attention to the man on 
 horseback. Mrs Brotherton soeiuix her son runninu^ 
 toward the house, went out to meet him with a re- 
 volver. A younger boy, Louis, fearing for his 
 mother, called her back and ran after her, but she 
 ordered him back to the house to ijct his Henrv ritlc, 
 telling him to elevate the sight 800 yards, and fire j:t 
 the Indians. He obeyed — his little sister wiping ar.d 
 handllni; the cartritli^es. In this mamu^r the mother 
 was })rotected by one stm, while she rescued another. 
 She returned safely to the luHise and the door was 
 closed and fastened. The Indians then rode past, 
 half a mile, to the tules, where they left their lu)rs( s, 
 and came back, on foot, keeping ^Miller's house br- 
 tween them and the Henry rifle. Entering jMillers 
 house, they pillaged it, having alreatly killed him. 
 Under Mrs Brothertoii's directions, tlicFO was a poit 
 hole bored on the side of her house toward JSIiller s. 
 As the auger came through the Indians saw it, and 
 fired, but without hitting anyone. The boy at the 
 
SLAUGHTER OF SETTLERS. 
 
 477 
 
 hole returned the fire and wounded Long: Jim. One 
 Indian was killed by ^Irs Brotherton. 
 
 While this was going on, an Indian woman who 
 had been living with Sover as his wife, came to Mrs 
 Brotherton's door, wishhig to be taken in. The Ind- 
 ians ordered her away, and threatened to kill her if she 
 refused to go. Slie told them to kill lier, if they wished, 
 being then in deep grief for her white husband ; but 
 they replied tliat they killed Boston men, not women. 
 At lengtli Mrs Brotherton, whose sympathy was 
 aroused for the poor creature, opened the door to atl- 
 mit her, and Hooker Jim, who was waiting for this 
 (•pportunity, shot into the opening, fortunately with- 
 out liitting anyone. At dark the Indians went awa\', 
 and did not return, tliouijh Mrs Brotherton dared not 
 relax her guard, and was not relieved until the third 
 da}', wlien a party under Ivan Applegate came that 
 May, and took the family to Crawley's, ten miles 
 above. 
 
 On leaving Mrs Brotherton's, the Indians pn^ceeded 
 along the eastern border of the lake to the house of 
 Louis Land, a stock raiser. What transpired tliero 
 could only be surmised by those who afterward found 
 the cabin destroyed, and the dead body of his herder 
 in the road near the Brotherton place, where he had 
 fiillen after a chase of over nine miles. Land was ab- 
 sent; but a man in his service, Adam Shillinglow, 
 was killed; also Erasnms, Collins, and two strangers 
 riding along the road. The nunibor of wliite men 
 killed on the 29th and 30th of Noven>ber was eiixhteen. 
 
 n 
 
 
 The distance from Orav/lev's, which was now the 
 central point of interest in the Klamatli valley, to 
 Fort Klamath was nearly sixty miles. The agency 
 was a few miles nearer. Camp Yai.iax was about the 
 same distance. It was twenty -three miles to Link- 
 ville, where the road to the Rogue River vallej' left 
 the Klamath basin at Link river; and sixty-five miles 
 from there to Ashland on the other side of the Cas- 
 
478 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 J 
 I 
 
 cade mountains. These distances in a new country 
 without telegraph linos or railroads, were insupt-rablc 
 obstacles tt) tlic swift movement necessary to the 
 emergency which had overtaken the people in Klam- 
 ath valley. Nevertheless, what could be done \>\' 
 rapid riding was done. Couriers flew in every dhec- 
 tion with news of the disasters of the '21)tli. 
 
 As soon as the intelliijence reached Klamatli ai^eiuv, 
 Dyar raised a company of thirty-six Klamaths. whom 
 he placed under D, J. Ferree, and sent to Crawley's 
 to reinforce Jackson. Oliver Applegate hastened to 
 Yainax, and after talking to Schonchin, who assured 
 him of tlie good faith t)f the Modocs at that eamj). 
 placed fifteen of Sehoncliin's people on guard under 
 the white employes, and takin*j: with him nine res( r- 
 vation Indians, part ^lodoes and part KhmuUlis, 
 without any other white man he crossed the Sprague 
 river mountains into Lani^ell's valley, and to Clear 
 lake, the residence of his uncle. Jesse Applegate. 
 This severe test of the good will of the reservation 
 Indians was nobly borne by them, demonstrating on 
 their part the utmost regard for Applegate's person 
 and safety on the dan<j:erous iourney. 
 
 Arriving at Clear lake on the '2d of December, he 
 found his brother Ivan with a party of six citizens 
 from Linkville, who had been through the country to 
 warn the settlers. They left Linkville on the 1st (»t' 
 December, having been compelled to wait for arms to 
 be sent from Fort Klamatli before setting out. ai'd 
 accompanied by five cavalrymen, detached from Jai k- 
 son's connnand had already visited all the settU'ments 
 
 If 
 
 known to them, and learned the fate of the settlers 
 on Tule lake, sending the remains of the l^rotherton 
 family to Crawley's, as alreatly related. 
 
 Leaving the cavalrymen at Clear lake to protect 
 the family of Jesse Applegate, Ivan and Oliver join, d 
 their forces and searched the countrv to recover tlie 
 bodies of the nmrdered men, without success on tlint 
 day. On tlie 3d Oliver Applegate's i)arty found Sliil- 
 
ATPLEGATE'S PARTY. 
 
 479 
 
 llnglow'g body, which one of the Indian volunteers, a 
 son of old Schonchin, bound upon a horse. 
 
 Ivan Applegate's party were scattered over several 
 miles of country looking for tlie dead. Two men, 
 Charles Monroe and George Fisck, were left witli a 
 wagon at the Brotherton ])lace to find the body of 
 S( hroeder. Wlien they saw the party of Modocs and 
 Klaniaths approaching, with their leader disguised as 
 an Indian, supposing them to be the enemy, they 
 ik'd into the cover of the tall siige-brush and con- 
 cealed themselves until undeceived l)v the voice of 
 Applegate, wheti they joined him and went with him 
 t< • the house. Wliile Applegate looked over the prem- 
 ises his Indian volunteers sat outside on their horses, 
 an<l Fisck returned to his search for the missing 
 1) )(lies. Being in the stable. Applegate heard h)ud 
 slirieks, and lookiui; out saw Fisck ridiiiLT at the top 
 of his speed, pursued by Scarface Charley and fifteen 
 others. At Schroeder's ciibin some of the savages 
 lialted to set fire to it, while Scarface kept up the pur- 
 suit of Fisck, who finally gained the stable, which 
 Apj)legate had already began to fortify, piling uj) logs 
 to strengthen the wall, while three of his !Modocs 
 stood guard outside. 
 
 As the enemy api)roached, the guards fired. The 
 fire was returned, when Scarface i)assed by, and 
 stopped about four hundred yards away to counsel 
 with his party. In ortler to gain time, Applegate 
 directed Jim Sconchhi to go out to them and hold a 
 jtarley. That Applegate had the most entire <oiifi- 
 dtnce in his Indian allies was shown bv this attion; 
 t'lr had Jim the least desire to join the enemy, some 
 <it' whom were his relatives, the opportunity was fur- 
 nished. So far was he from betraying his almost 
 single-handed white leader, that he quite deceived 
 Scarface and his followers, pretendit»g to tluin to 
 have a party of sympathizers at the stable, and oft'er- 
 ing to brinij them out to confer with him. 
 
 Uunng this conference Jim learned that the hostile 
 
 r 
 
480 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES, 
 
 Modocs had planned to finish the work of spoliation 
 on that day. Captain Jack, with eighteen warriors, 
 was to operate on the west side of Lost river to the 
 stone ford, cross there, and join Scarface. After they 
 had killed all the men who were out lookin*^ for the 
 dead, and burned all the houses, they would return 
 to Crawley's the same night, and attack Jackson's 
 camp. Charged with these particulars, Jim returned 
 to the stable, which had been hurriedly converted 
 into a fort, with port-holes bristling with guns. 
 
 Scarface waited some time for the return of his 
 supposed ally, who not coming, he cautiously advanced, 
 and seeing tlie preparations made to receive him knew 
 he had been outwitted. Fearing to make a charge 
 from that side, he to(jk a ci'"cuit and when out of rifie 
 range started at a brisk gait to swoop down upon the 
 stable from the rear. A-^ain Jim Sconchin filled the 
 breach of danger, darting a'cross the open space be- 
 tween the stable and a hayric k, and firing the hay. 
 It flamed u\\ and the attacking party retired to the 
 shelter of the sage-brush, half a mile off. 
 
 In the meantime the party of white men under Ivan 
 Applegate were at no great distance away, and saw 
 nmch that was transpiring without understanding it. 
 Mistaking his brother's party of Indians for the enemy, 
 and having witnessed the pursuit of Fisck by Scarface 
 and the subsequent burning of the hayrick, Mr Apple- 
 gate supposed that the greater part of Jack's force was 
 at the Brotherton place, and signaling his men to 
 come together, they hastily retreated to Crawley's to 
 inform the commander of the military forces of the 
 whereabouts of the enemy, and also that Fisck and 
 Monroe were killed, as he believed they were, and as 
 they would have been but for his brother. 
 
 The guns that were fired as signals by Ivan Apple- 
 gate were equally misinterpreted by those in the stable, 
 who feared that Captain Jack had already reached 
 that side of the river, and was attacking the other 
 party. In this supposed imminent peril, a Klamath 
 
TERILOUS ENCOUNTERS. 
 
 481 
 
 railed Whistler was entrusted with the dangerous 
 duty of carrying a message to the niilitar}- camp under 
 a flag of truce. As he did not return, and it was not 
 considered exi)edient to stand a siege under tlie cir- 
 cumstances, when ni«^ht came on the party mounted 
 and set out for Crawley's, preferring the risk of meet- 
 ing the enemy to remaining shut up until Jack should 
 ap}»ear. 
 
 But the non-appearance of Jack, and the apparent 
 inaction of Scarface, were not occasioned by a fij/lit else- 
 where, as was conjectured. The company oi' Klam- 
 atlis before mentioned as sent by Dyar to reenforce 
 Jackson, had been on a scout down the west side of 
 tlie river under Blow, one of the head men on the 
 reservation, and returning was seen by Jack, who 
 prudently kept concealed. Scarface, too, had been 
 frustrated hi his designs by the flight toward Yainax 
 of two of Sconchin's Modocs, held by him since the 
 aftuir of tlie 21)th. Seizing a favorable ^moment, they 
 set ofl:' at full speed, pursued by half the hostile party, 
 which depletion of his numbers left Scarface without 
 the strength to make an attack. These at the time 
 unknown but favorable circumstances deprived the 
 retreat of a portion of the danger in which it was 
 thought to be involved, and also prevented the plan 
 of an attack on the military camp from being carried 
 into efl:ect as designed. 
 
 Half way on their journey, Applegate's party were 
 met by Whistler, accompanied by the Klamath cliiefs 
 Dave Hill and Blow, with their company of scouts, 
 who returned with them to Crawley's, where the 
 forces were so arranged for the night that the Indians 
 could not attack without exposing themselves to the 
 fire from two camps a short distance apart. It was 
 discovered next morning that some of the Indians had 
 crawled up within two hundred yards of the camps, 
 but fearing to attack had contented themselves with 
 taking two horses to show their daring. 
 
 On the morning of the 4th a party of seven citl- 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 81 
 
 
 tn 
 
 i \ 
 
482 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 zens, with thirty-threo Klaniaths and frIoiKlly IVrodocs, 
 returned to Tule lake and brought in all the deatl ex- 
 cept Miller, whose remains were found about Christ- 
 mas, horribly mutilated; and the Younger Bodtly, 
 who was discovered two weeks earlier. ()n the way 
 to Linkville to bury the dead, on the 5th, Applegate's 
 brothers, who were in charge of the property that 
 remained undestroyed, and of the expedition gener- 
 ally, met a party of fifteen volunteers under Captain 
 Kelly, and learned that their father, L. Apfilegate, 
 had started for Clear lake with seven men from Ash- 
 land. Fearing he might fall into danufer with so 
 small a force, they hastened back to camp that night. 
 and joining Kelly's comp my went on to Brotherton's 
 place with them on the morning of the Gth. When 
 near the lake they could sec about a mile away a 
 party of eight, whether Indians or not they could 
 not tell, and riding along the edge of the lake two 
 white men, who they feared were all that was left of 
 the Ashland party. Ivan Applegate rode forward, 
 and found them to be two advanced guards of a com- 
 pany of cavalry from Camp Bidwell on its way to 
 Crawley's. Taking Applegate, whose face was paliited. 
 for an Indian, the guards would not permit him to 
 come near, but conversed with him at a distance until 
 informed of their mistake. The party of eight, wlio 
 were now known to be white men, and believed to ho 
 the Ashland party, also concealed themselves in tho 
 rocks on the approach of Kelly's party, nor would 
 they come out until the soldiers went to them and 
 explained that their friends wished to join them. It 
 was then found that the party consisted of the seven 
 Ashland men, under Jesse Applegate, his brotlur 
 being unable to ride any farther. They were tryini,' 
 to save st)mc of the property and stock belonging to 
 the murdered men or their bereaved families. 
 
 brnm 
 
 l)i'aiii 
 
 ■•It th 
 
 (lie ( 
 
 tliat 
 
 • ■liter 
 
 ereek 
 
 nanuM 
 
 Botwi 
 
 campi 
 
 a S']U£ 
 
 Entering lower Klamath lake from the scuth is a 
 ismall stream forking toward the west, the southern 
 
INDIAN PREPARATIONS. 
 
 branch Vinj:? known as Cottonwixxl, and the wostorn 
 hiancli as Willow crt'ok. On fuch of those branolu's, 
 ;it tlio crossini^ of the roads, was a ranclio; tluit on 
 tlio Cottonwood helno; owned hv Van Brewer, and 
 that on Willow ereek l>v Fairchild. Anotlier stream 
 entering the lake on the west side was known as Hot 
 creek ; and here too, at the crossing, was a settler 
 named Dorris. Others were livin*; in the vieinltv. 
 Between Dorris' and Fairehild's places was an en- 
 ( aiiip:nent of forty-five Indians called the Hot Creeks, 
 a sniialid band, not yet hostile, but which might be- 
 come so if left to the persuasions or coercion of 
 Captain Jack. These the settlers, after the fight at 
 Lost river, determined to remove to the reservation. 
 The Indians were not unaware of the position in 
 Avliich Jack's band was placed by their refusal to go 
 U|>()U the reservation. Being greatly frightened they 
 easily yielded, and <m the 5th of Decend)er started 
 for the reservation under the charge of Fairchild, 
 Dorris, Colver, and others whom Dyar had been 
 notified to meet at Linkville, where the Indians 
 Avould be turned over to him. I3ut being told bv a 
 drunken German that if they stjirtetl for the reserva- 
 tion they would be killed on the way, they fled. 
 
 Fairchild, Dorris, l^all and Beswick then deter- 
 mined to make an effort to persuade Captain Jack to 
 surrender, submit to the authorities, and prevent the 
 iin|)ending war. Being personally well known to the 
 Iiulians, they went accompanied by three of the Hot 
 Creeks, and without arms, to seek Jack among the 
 Juniper ridges between Lost river and the lava beds 
 soutli of Tule lake. Thev were successful in finding 
 hhn. and used every argument to influence him to 
 acetpt the proftered peace but without avail. Jack 
 reject(\l any and all overtures that looked toward any 
 inti'rference with his liberty, and boldly declared his 
 <lesirc to fight, telling Fairchild that he wished the 
 soldiers to come, and was prepared for them. Toward 
 
 i ■■■. 
 
 n ri 
 
 S I 
 
 !■'"( 
 
SOME INDIAN EPISODES., 
 
 his visitors, who ho knew wore actuated by a desire 
 to Have him as well as tiie white men, he condueti'd 
 himself in a friendly mamier, even lendinj^ Fairchild 
 a horso to ride, his own havini^ strayed, or having 
 been stolen by Jack's band. 
 
 In this conference Jack reiterated his charges 
 against the Indian department, and denied all respon- 
 sibility in the matter of the fight of the 29th of 
 November, saying that the troo[)s fired first; also 
 denying that he or Scarface had had anything to do 
 with the murder of the settlers which followed, say- 
 ing that L(mg Jim was accountable for those atro- 
 cities; pretending to bo quite above killing settlers, 
 and able to fight armed men. The result of the con- 
 ference was twofold. It gave Jack an opportunity 
 to gain over the Hot Creeks who accompanied Fair- 
 child and through them the whole band ; and it 
 convinced the military that no terms need be de- 
 manded of the Modocs until they could enforce an 
 unconditional surrender. War was inevitable ; and the 
 settlers along the route from Lost river to Fairchild's 
 immediately removed their families to Yreka, wl ilc 
 those in other parts of the country were removed to 
 Rogue River valley. Men who must remain in iso- 
 lated localities surrounded themselves with stockades. 
 
 When Colonel Wheaton received the letter of 
 Superintendent Odeneal, before referred to, it found 
 him confined to his bed with quinsy. He immediately 
 answered that steps had already been taken to con- 
 centrate, if nee ssary, all the available mounted nu ii 
 of Harney, Bid 'ell, Warner, and Klamath to compel 
 the removal of ick's band to the reservation, should 
 they resist; but e trusted there would be no serious 
 difficulty when ti attempt came to be made. 
 
 In reply to th letter of Colonel Green informing 
 him of Jack's refusal to move, or even to listen to any 
 further parley on the subject, and of Superintendent 
 Odeneal's requisition for a force to intimidate hiiu, 
 
 1 
 
 \ 
 
 n 
 f( 
 
 Whe 
 
 niand 
 
 uud c 
 
 cut's 
 
 to th 
 
 tain 1 
 
 dutacj 
 
 (I K 
 
 men 
 
 gati! 
 
 di recti 
 
 every a 
 
 iiig thii 
 
 Would 
 
 subinisf 
 
 f^ufficiei 
 
 fore W 
 
 miscJiie 
 
 The 
 Camp \ 
 tJiu way 
 ordered 
 all the n 
 t]ie sanu 
 rnad. I 
 iioKI) eni 
 3<i of D 
 Biilwell, 
 noon of 
 make for 
 trains, w[ 
 tliat C(»ul( 
 oj.portuni 
 stronghoh 
 <Ji" supplie, 
 
 In orde: 
 otlier sett 
 seemed th 
 
COXCKNTR.VrroX OP TROOPS. 
 
 480 
 
 Whoaton ronllcf} th^i. i • 
 
 ■'"■"di-'g '>*oer at Fort^'';;?' '"■''« -'iroctal tI,o con,. 
 ••"" •'"■"IH-l the M„d,,™t,^ :.""*''. '" '•'■T'vs.'nt l,i,„, 
 'Mt's autl.„rity, U8i„./l|| H,r?""" ""•" ""I'-^riiitoa,!- 
 
 t;.m Perry's troop i' Z"J" "-^mfiTeo hi,,, witi, Cap- 
 . ota<.|,„.„„t fro,,, 'Ca„;p B w. II „?! '?'• "'"' "'«' » 
 <'• Kyle, wliich would , rive 1^, • I L,eute„a.,t J. 
 
 '"<■" m addition to Jaefs ,A ^^^''"'y-fivo cavalry. 
 Katu force of 150 conmin i '> '""'''"« »" a««ro. 
 
 'li'''-t«I hi,n to proc 'd r^' "'"'1''*'' '■»™''y- He 
 ;'>'0-way sustainCheln r""'"';' "P"" *'"^ <'"ty. in 
 "« tl.at nothing 2re t,,an r"/'''""'^"-'"*- ''"' aJd- 
 «"uld be requi^^d Ta ^ i.tv 'T "['"'I'^^y f'«e 
 ™h„„s.,on. Tl,e consome, ce^:/!'"";' *^"''"^'' ""« 
 »nffi.',ent show of such fo^f, „| ,"",'"}""*'' """'« » 
 f";o Wheaton's order arrK-pd „* p*'^ ,'<""»'" Be- 
 
 ■>"-l"ef had been con'sSed ''"'■' ^''""''* *« 
 ilio nionient that news of ti ,• 
 
 Ca'np Warner, WheatonTh-,,?! i , p'^^'f •''"^'''^'l 
 tile way of Yainax to ioin T t ^''"y" '""'P. by 
 '>;;'ored Captain Ber,Sfr [uT"' Crawley 's ,'^L„5 
 « 1 the n,en that could be sr^Pf '' ?,'<'""^"' *'"• 
 tliu ^n,e point, by the way of ?, ?, *'"" !"«'. *« 
 
 >■".■« Perry's co.npany {.f! r"- T'*^'"" ^■'"i'mnt 
 ".Mth end of Goose lake vallv "*''*,'"''"<■''"' •" «>« 
 ^1 "t December, and CaS Re *'"!,."'•"'" "^ «'« 
 y«eU „i„ety.six miwC, r^w?'*':'^ ' *'"""1' '' '* 
 '"";" of the followinir dav «?,"•> "' "" *''" '•'■■«. 
 ;"".ke forced marches, anTnoft ^*-<?f« ""ie.c.l to 
 t;«iiis, which w,,uld fo C " I 'i '™" ""• SKpl'ly- 
 l«'t <-"„ld be inadt ateelT' hij,"^^*,"'-''' ,"" «» '-'^te 
 "I'l'ortunity afforded the \r '^'ai'sed, and ample 
 
 *-"nsbold'they mtht'',3^°j'7 t" rcnove to Z 
 
 — - «.t a„dl-i-- 1;;-',-. 
 
SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 Bernard's troop was stationed at Land's place, which 
 was on the east shore of Tule lake, on the border of 
 volcanic country popularly known as the lava beds, 
 and which extended around the southern shore of the 
 lake westward for fifteen miles. From Bernard's 
 camp to that particular portion of the lava beds where 
 the scout had discovered Captain Jack's band to be 
 safely stationed, was about thirteen miles, the trail to 
 the stronghold being over and among masses of 
 broken rock of every size, and similar in character to 
 that which had aflforded the Pit Rivers their secure 
 hiding-places when General Crook attacked them in 
 the autumn of 1867. On the west side of the lava 
 beds was stationed Perry's command, at Van Bre- 
 mer's rancho, distj. t twelve miles from the strong- 
 hold, at the crossing of Cottonwood creek by what 
 was known as Lickner's road, and not far south of the 
 crossing of the Yreka road ; while Jackson remained 
 at Crawley's where Green had his headquarters. 
 
 As fast as transportation could be procured, the 
 material of war was being gathered. The governors 
 of Oregon and of California were called upon for aid 
 by the citizens of both states, the war being almost 
 equally in both. Governor Booth of California re- 
 sponded by sending arms and ammunition on the call 
 of the settlers near the boundary, the arms being out 
 of date, and the ammunition two sizes too large for 
 tlie arms Governor Grover, requested by Superin- 
 tendent Odencal tv> furnish arms to the people of 
 Oregon, responded by forwarding an immediate sup- 
 ply. The Washington Guard of Portland, Captain 
 Charles S. Mills, tendered its services to the state, 
 but were declined only because a company of volun- 
 teer militia organized at Jacksonville, and anotlior 
 company raised in Klamath basin had already been 
 accepted; the former under John E. Ross, and the 
 latter under O. C. Applegate. Applegate's company 
 consisted of seventy'' men, nearly half of whom were 
 Indians from the reservation, mixed Klamaths, Mo- 
 
THE SEVERAL LEADERS. 
 
 487 
 
 docs, Snakes, and Pit Rivers. They were occupied 
 during the time the regular troops were massing their 
 material, in scouting through the country, to prevent 
 not only fresh outrages on citizens, but to intercept 
 Jack's messengers and spies, whose visits to Camp 
 Yalnax were a source of some uneasiness. 
 
 Now that Jack had decided upon war, his great 
 endeavor was to gain over the Modocs on the reser- 
 vation as he had done the Hot Creeks, and in order 
 to do this he employed threats as well as entreaties. 
 Those who would not help him were to be considered 
 his enemies, and killed as if they were whites. The 
 Hot Creeks, being oiF the reservation and uirprotected, 
 were easily convinced tliat their safety lay in follow- 
 ing Jack; the reservation Indians were differently 
 placed. So long as they were loyal to their treaty 
 obligations, they could demand the protection of the 
 government. It was even for their interest to assist 
 in putting down Jack, who they knew would scruple 
 at nothing to carry his points, or to draw them into 
 the trouble he was himself in. Sconchin and the 
 most intelligent of the reservation Modocs understood 
 this perfectly. At the same time there was always 
 tlic possibility that Jack might carry out his threat 
 to destroy the camp at Yainax, in which case trouble 
 would follow, either through the coi.llict of the two 
 bands, or through the reservation Iiidlans being 
 frightened into complianci^ witli Jack's demands. Nor 
 was compulsion alone to be feared, but tlie influence 
 of the feeling of kinship, which is strong among the 
 Indians In order to guard against a surprise, the 
 agency buildings were enclosed by palisades, and a 
 guard maintained day and night. 
 
 When Canby received the report of the battle of 
 the 20th of November and the subsequent slaughters, 
 he ordered Colonel Mason, with a battalion number- 
 ing sixty-four men, to proceed to the Klamath coun- 
 try to join the command of the district of the Lakes, 
 
488 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 i I 
 
 On the evening of the 3d of December Mason left 
 Portland by special train, accompanied by captains 
 George H. Burton and V. M. C. Silva, and lieutenants 
 W. H. Boyle and H. De W. Moore. On arriving at 
 Roseburg, the roads being very heavy with mud and 
 the transportation of baggage difficult, the remainder 
 of the march to Jacksonville and over the mountains 
 in rain and snow occupied nearly two weeks, so that 
 it was past the middle of December when Mason re- 
 ported to Green at Crawley's. It was not until about 
 the same time that Wheaton, having recovered from 
 his indisposition, reached Green's headquarters from 
 Camp Warner by the way of Fort Klamath, where he 
 found the supply of ammunition nearly exhausted by 
 issues to the settlers on the day after the battle at 
 Jack's camp, necessitating the sending of Captain 
 Bernard with a detachment and wagons to Camp 
 Bidwell for a supply. 
 
 Meantime neither the Indians nor the troops were 
 idle. Captain Perry was still at Van Bremer's with 
 forty cavalrymen. Colonel Ross, in command of the 
 Jacksonville volunteers, was at Snell's place, near 
 Whittles' ferry. On the IGth of December detach- 
 ments frtmi both companies made a reconnoissance of 
 Jack's position, approaching it within a mile, and be- 
 ing led to believe that it could be surrounded so as to 
 compel him to surrender. Of the strength of the 
 Modoc position the military authorities knew nothing 
 except by rumor up to this time, and had not yet 
 learned definitely much. Few whites had ever visited 
 tliis place, the access to whicji was extremely difficult. 
 It was known that the lava beds contained an area of 
 ten miles square, broken by fissures and chasms from 
 ten to a hundred feet in width, many of them a hun- 
 dred feet deep, and that it abounded in caves, one of 
 which was said to contain fifteen acres of clear space, 
 with an abundance of good water and many openings, 
 the largest of which was of the size of a common door. 
 There were places in the lava beds where grass grew 
 
THE LAVA BEDS 
 
 489 
 
 in small flats, the trails to which were known onlv to 
 the Indians, and where their horses were secure. 
 From the rocky pinnacles with which the region was 
 studded, the advance of an enemy could be discovered 
 five miles off, while from their secure liiding-i)laces 
 the dwellers in this savage Gibraltar could watch their 
 approach within twenty feet. When the stores col- 
 lected in the caves were exhausted, they could steal 
 out through the winding passages, and watching their 
 opportunity drive in the cattle found grazing outside 
 the lava beds ; or could in the same stealthy manner 
 procure fish and fowl from the lake. Nothing could 
 bo stronger or better chosen than the Modoc position. 
 Should amnmnition fail them, they could still make 
 arrows. Even in cold weather little snow foil in the 
 lava bods, and that little soon melted away from the 
 warm rocks. The reconnoissance revealed many if 
 not all these advantages, and impressed all minds with 
 tlie certainty that it would be by hard fighting that 
 Jack would be dislodged. Amotig other things, it 
 revealed the apparent necessity of using howitzers and 
 shells to drive them out of their hiding-places, and 
 terrify them. An order was accordingly sent to Van- 
 couver for two howitzers, waiting for which occasioned 
 still further delay and much impatience among the 
 troops, both regulars and volunteers, the latter having 
 enlisted for thirty days only, and the time being al- 
 ready half spent in comparative inaction. The weather 
 was very cold, besides, and the state troops but ill 
 supplied with blankets and certain articles of [)rovision. 
 Another difficulty presented itself The volunteers 
 being state troops had organized to fight in their own 
 territory, whereas the Modoc stronghold lay just over 
 tlie line in the state of California; but Wheeler and 
 (xreen recognized and letjalized the invasion of Cali- 
 Umua, by ordering Ross to pursue and fight the hostile 
 Indians wherever they could be found, regardless of 
 state lines. ^ 
 
 m 
 
SOME INDIAN EPISODES 
 
 Actual hostilities were commenced on the 22d of 
 December by Jack's band in force attacking a wagon 
 from Camp Bidwell, with a small detachment under 
 Bernard, when within a mile of camp at Land's, on 
 the east side of Tule lake. One soldier, five horses, 
 and one mule were killed at the first fire delivered 
 from an ambuscade. The sound of their guns being 
 heard at camp. Lieutenant Kyle hastened to the res- 
 cue with nearly all the troops, only ten being mounted. 
 Skirmislnng was kept up throughout the day, the 
 Indians being driven from one rocky ledge to another 
 by tlie superior arms of the troops, the range of which 
 seemed to surprise them greatly. Their object in at- 
 tacking was to capture the ammunition in the wagon, 
 in which attempt they failed, losing their horses, and 
 four warriors killed and wounded. A buijler whom 
 they pursued outran them, and made good his escape 
 to Crawley's, when Jackson's troop was at once sent 
 to the aid of Bernard, but before h's arrival tlie Ind- 
 ians had retreated. About the same time the Indians 
 showed themselves in small parties on Lost river, op- 
 posite the military headquarters, invithig the attack 
 of the soldiers, and also on the mountain near Van 
 Bremer's, wliere Perry and Ross were encamped. 
 Evidently the apparent hesitation of the troops had 
 given them much encouragement. 
 
 About the 25th of December Wheaton, who was 
 awaiting the arrival of the howitzers and of amnmnition 
 from Camp Bidwell before making an attack on the 
 M(jdoc stronghold, had as above mentioned ordered 
 the Oregon volunteers to the front. Captain Apple- 
 gate, anticipating an early engagement, and fearini; 
 what might happen in the event of the ^lodocs beinjj; 
 driven from the lava beds witliout being captured, 
 sent information of the coming battle to the settlers, 
 and instructed them to fortify. The people in Lan- 
 gell valley nearest the stronghold, preferred going to 
 Linkville ; and while a party of five families were en 
 route they were fired upon by Modocs concealed in 
 
 I! 
 
LrniLY FIGHTING. 
 
 491 
 
 had 
 
 was 
 
 ition 
 the 
 3red 
 
 red, 
 
 ^ers, 
 
 jan- 
 
 t.) 
 en 
 II ill 
 
 the rocky ridge near the springs on Lost river, twenty 
 miles from that place, but were relieved and escorted 
 to their destination by a scouting party. A supply 
 train on its way from Fort Klamath to headcjuarters 
 was also attacked, and a party of the escort wounded, 
 being relieved in the same manner by the volunteers. 
 
 Applegate having transferred the case of Camp 
 Yainax to Dyar, who with a guard of fifteen men 
 proceeded to take charge, and watch over the friendly 
 Modocs in case of a visit from the hostilos, hastened 
 to join Green's forces at the front, where drilling and 
 S(()utlng continued to occupy the time. Green, who 
 retained command of the troops, under Wheaton, 
 was ordered to attack the Indians whenever, in his 
 judgment, sufficient supi)lies and amnmnition had 
 been received, but not to attack until these had been 
 furnished, and in the meantime to make frequent re- 
 connoissances. 
 
 Green had never fought the Oregon Indians, and 
 was confident that when his preparations were com- 
 \Acte, he should achieve an easy victory. With the 
 howitzers, and one snow storm, he said, he was ready 
 to betjin. 
 
 On the 5th of January^ Captain Kelly of the vol- 
 unteers, with a party of twelve men, and five Indian 
 scouts, made a reconnoissance to look for a more prac- 
 ticable route than the one in use from Van Brim- 
 mer's, Green's headquarters, to the ^lodoc stronghold. 
 On the way they came upon a party from Jack's camp 
 of about twenty warriors, evidently upon a fiTaging 
 expedition, who retreated toward camp on being dis- 
 covered, and were pursued by the volunteers for three 
 miles. When overtaken they had dismounted and 
 fortified. The volunteers also dismounted, answering 
 the fire from the rocks which soon brought to the 
 rescue of the beseiged the remainder of Jack's war- 
 riors. The soldiers then retreated to an open field, 
 followed by the Modocs, who, finding their position 
 unfavorable for attack, returned to their stronghold. 
 
 Hi 
 at 
 
SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 A run by Applegate with twenty men, around Van 
 Brimmer's hill, as the ridge between Van Brimmer's 
 and the lava beds was called, rev^aled the fact that 
 the Modocs used this height as an observatory whence 
 they informed themselves of the movements of the 
 troops. Scarface afterward said that Applegate's 
 party passed within twenty feet of his hiding place, 
 but he could not safely attack. On the 12th of Jan- 
 uary a scouting expedition, consisting of thirteen men 
 under Perry, a few Klamath scouts under Donald 
 McKay, thirty men, half of them Indians, under Ap- 
 plegate, and the whole under Green, made a recon- 
 noissance to the lava beds from Van Brewer's, to as- 
 certain the practicability of taking wagons to a posi- 
 tion in their front. On the appearance of Green with 
 Perry's detachment, the Modoc pickets fired on them 
 from a rocky point of the high bluff, on the verge of 
 the lava beds. Perry returned their fire, and drovv. 
 the Modoc guard over the bluff, shooting one of 
 Shacknatjfcy's men through the shoulders. Applegate 
 came up in time to observe that the Modocs were 
 scattering in small parties to ascend the bluff and get 
 on the flank of the troops, when he distributed his 
 Indians along the bluff for a considerable distance, in 
 the rocks, to intercept them. 
 
 Scarface, who was standing upon a high point in 
 the lava beds, discovered the movement, and cried out 
 in a stentorian voice to his warriors, "keep back, I 
 can see them in the rocks." The Modoc guard then 
 fell back half way down the hill, where they made a 
 stand, and uttered speeches of defiance to the soldiers, 
 and entreaty to their Indian allies, reproaching them 
 for joining themselves to their natural enemies the 
 white men. Captain Jack and Black Jim were very 
 confident, daring the troops to come down and fight 
 them on the lava beds. Hooker Jim said, once he 
 had been a peace man, but was now for war, and if 
 tho soldiers wanted to fight, the opportunity should be 
 afforded them. One of their medicine men then 
 
MODOC BRAGGADOCIO. 498 
 
 made an address to the scouts, entreating them to 
 join the Modocs, saying that if all the Indians should 
 act in concert they would be few enough. Donald 
 McKay answered them in the Cayuse tongue that 
 their hands were red with the blood of innocent 
 white people, for which punishment would surely fall 
 upon them. Jack then said he did not want to fight 
 Cayuses, but soldiers ; and growing indignant, finally 
 invited them to come and fight him, saying he could 
 whip them all. The Klamaths asked permission to 
 reply, but were checked by Green, who did not think 
 the comnmnication profitable to either side. 
 
 A retreat was ordered, it not being the intention of 
 Green to fight on that day, and with so small a force. 
 To this Applegate's Klamaths were opposed, saying 
 that the troops had the advantage of position, and 
 could easily do some execution on the Modocs. As 
 the force of Green withdrew. Jack's men resumed 
 their position on the high bluff, and Applegate's com- 
 pany being then on the summit of the second ridge 
 wished to open on them, but were restrained, and the 
 command returned to headquarters. 
 
 It was now the middle of January, and nothing had 
 been done to relieve the public suspense. The settlers 
 in Klamath valley remained in the fort. The road from 
 Tule lake southward was closed. Fairchild and 
 Dorris had converted their places into fortified camps. 
 There was talk of other settlers being exposed, and of 
 volunteer companies forming in some of the northern 
 California towns to go to their assistance ; in fact Mr 
 Dorris had been selected to make personal application 
 to the California governor in their behalf. But this 
 functionary had other advisers, and had made or did 
 soon make a recommendation to the government to 
 set apart five thousand acres of land, in the vicinity 
 preferred by Captain Jack, as a reservation for the 
 Atodocs ; and implied at least that it was a desire for 
 speculation on the part of the Indian department m 
 
 m 
 
4M 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 Oregon which brought on the war ; a charge justly 
 resented by the people of southern Oregon The 
 government, however, declined to yield any further 
 to the demands of Captain Jack or his intercessors. 
 
 On the IGth of January, everything being in readi- 
 ness and the weather foggy, which answered in lieu 
 of a snowstorm to hide the operations of the troops, 
 the army moved upon Jack's stronghold. General 
 orders had been issued on the 12th concerning the 
 disposition of the troops, and the most perfect under- 
 standing prevailed as to the duty expected of every 
 division of the forces. The regulars in the field 
 numbered two hundred and twenty-five, and the vol- 
 unteers about one hundred and fifty. The latter con- 
 sisted of the Jacksonville company, the Klamath com- 
 pany, and Fairchild's California company of twenty- 
 four sharpshooters who offered their services on the 
 16th. 
 
 At four o'clock in the morning Colonel Green, with 
 Captain Perry's troops, moved up to the bluflf on the 
 south-west of Tule lake, to clear it of Modoc ])i('kets 
 and scouts, and cover the movement of the main 
 force to a camp on the bluff three miles west of tlie 
 Modoc stronghold, located so as not to be observed 
 by the enemy. By three in the afternoon the whole 
 force on the west side of the lake, consisting of Mason's 
 battalion ; two companies of infantry under Captain 
 Burton and Lieutenant Moore ; a detachment of an- 
 other company, under sergeant John McNamara; 
 the Oregon volunteers, commanded by General John 
 E. Ross ; two companies under captains Hugh Kelly 
 and O. C. Applegate; Lieutenant Miller's howitzer 
 battery ; Captain Fairchild's sharpshooters — all but 
 seven of the scouts, dismounted, and provisioned with 
 cooked rations for three days, had been meanwhile 
 encamped in a juniper grove, with a picket line 
 thrown out along the edge of the bluff, and another 
 around the camp. 
 
 Captain Bernard's force on the east side of the 
 
CRAWLING INTO THE STRONGHOLD. 
 
 495 
 
 lake, consisting of his own and Captain Jackson's 
 couipanios, and twenty regularly enlisted Klaniatli 
 scouts under Dave Hill, had been ordered to move up 
 to a point not more than two miles from the Modoc 
 position, to be in readiness to attack at sunrise ; but 
 proceeding in ignorance of the ground, he came so 
 near to the stronghold that he was attacked and 
 obliged to retreat with four men wounded. 
 
 The camp was early astir on the morning of the 
 17th. As the troops looked down from the high 
 blutf upon the lava beds, the fog which ovorl^ung it 
 resembled a quiet sea. They were to plunge down 
 into til is, and feel for the positions assigned them. 
 Mason with the infantry occui)ied a position on the 
 left of the line, resting on the lake, with Fairchilds 
 sharpshooters flanking him; to the right of the in- 
 fantry were the howitzers; in the centre General 
 Whcaton and staff, Major General Miller and General 
 Ross and staff; on tlie right of the generals cai)tains 
 Kelly and Applegate; and on the extreme right 
 Captain Perry's troops, dismounted ; Colonel Green 
 in command of the whole. Descending the bluff by 
 the narrow trail, surprised at meeting no Modoc 
 pickets, the troops gained their positions in the order 
 given about seven o'clock. Hardly had the line 
 formed when the Modocs opened fire. It had been 
 the desii'n of Wheaton to move out on the riuht until 
 Green's command met Bernard's in front of the 
 Modoc position, when three shots should bo fired by 
 the howitzers to announce a parley, when Captain 
 Jack would be given an op[)ortunlty to surrender. 
 But to carry out this progrannne, it was soon dis- 
 covered, was impossible. The Modocs were not to 
 be surrounded in their stronghold and asked to cajjitu- 
 late, but forced the troops to fight for every foot of 
 ground on the way toward it. 
 
 On account of the density of the fog — which now 
 was found to be an obstacle instead of a help to suc- 
 cess in reaching the central cave, the Indians having 
 
406 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 the advantaj^e of being familiar with the passages 
 among the rocks, whereas the troops were obliged to 
 scramble over and among them as best they could, 
 at the risk of falling any moment into an anjbush — 
 the movement aimed at on the right was extremely 
 slow. Nevertheless, it was steadily pushed forward, 
 all caution being used, the men sometunes lying down 
 and crawling prone over the rocks within a few yards 
 of the Indians, who could be heard talkhig, but who 
 seldom could be seen, though they were able to see 
 through openings in their defences the approaches 
 of the troops as far as the fog would permit. 
 
 The howitzers, which had been so much relied 
 upon to demoralize the Indians proved useless so long 
 as the enemy's position was concealed from view. 
 The line, after advancing a mile and a half, was 
 halted, and a few sheila thrown, causing some excite- 
 ment among the Modocs, over whose heads they 
 passed, falling beyond Bernard's line on the east side 
 of the stronghold ; but through fear of hitting Ber- 
 nard's troops the firing of the battery was suspended 
 and Green pushed on the west line by a series of 
 short charges another mile and a half passhig over 
 ravines running and sounding the war-whoop. 
 
 It is related by Applegate that Green, who during 
 this advance carried one of his gloves carelessly iu 
 his hand, was frequently shot at by the concealed 
 Modocs, who attributed his immunity from harm to 
 some charm or "medicine" contained in this glove. 
 They also shot at Captain Applegate and his brother 
 Ivan who accompanied him, with similar results, from 
 which they inferred these persons had received pro- 
 tection from a miraculous power, and that powder 
 and shot were wasted upon them. The recklessness 
 of Green was remarked upon by his command as well 
 as by the Indians. 
 
 About one o'clock the extreme right of the line, 
 which now enveloped the stronghold on the west and 
 south, was brought to a halt by an immensely deep 
 
APPLEGATES NARRATIVE. 
 
 497 
 
 and wide ravine which soparuted it from Bernard's 
 line on the otlier side, and which strongly guarded 
 tlie stronghold, being close at hand. Green at once 
 saw that it could not be crossed without an inunense 
 sacrifice of life. A consultation with Wheaton and 
 other officers led to a change of plan, and it was de 
 termined to move the west line by the left around 
 tlie north side of the Modoc position, along tlie shore 
 of the lake, connecting with the right of Bernard's 
 force from that direction. An order was given to 
 reorganize the Hue for withdrawal, which, owing to 
 the difficult nature of the ground, was not understood 
 by all the officers, and created a confusion which but 
 for the all-enveloping fog might have resulted in a 
 heavy loss. 
 
 " While we were charijing down this ravine," writes 
 Applogatc, "I fell, probably from the etl'ect of a shot. 
 RL'Covering myself, I joined the line, jumped the 
 canon at the bottom, and took up position on a sage 
 plain on the otlier side. Such a volley met us that 
 the sage brush was mown down above our heads 
 where we lay. Then came the order Look out for 
 Bernard! The volley was from his line. While pre- 
 paring to charge the stronghold, I saw the troops on 
 the left withdrawing. I did not understand the 
 movement, but kept place in the skirmish line. I 
 saw a soldier fall, one of Perry's men, and took 
 cliarge of him. On nearing the brink of the strons:- 
 hold I found most of the troops had passed under 
 the bluff, and the rapid firing gave notice that a 
 severe conflict was going on there. A message was 
 received from General Wheaton to report to head- 
 quarters for orders, which I did, and found that the 
 regulars had already passed around to the north side 
 of the lava bed to join Bernard, and that Wheaton 
 wanted the volunteers to remain with the headquar- 
 ters. I was ordered to take my men to the lake for 
 water, after which I formed a line in advance of 
 
 cal. Int. Poc. 82 
 
 ^H 
 
 
m 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES 
 
 headquarters in a series of crags parallel witli tlie 
 stroni^liolcl, and fought the Modocs as we moved. 
 
 "Hooker Jim was lying behind a wall of stone, 
 appearint' to command the Modocs on the left of tlio 
 stronghold. His voice was known to the Indians 
 with me; he was callin«j attention to the fact that tlie 
 regulars were hopelessly separated from the volun- 
 teers, and that by moving around our right flank tliey 
 could cut off our retreat. I sent Lieutenant Hizer 
 to headquarters to report this. I then saw a signal- 
 fire s[)ring up beh.ind Hooker JimV position, and then 
 anoth(;r, three hundred yards to the west, and heard 
 the war-cry repeated there, and knew the Modocs 
 were making a movement to cut us off. I then went 
 to headquai-ters myself and reported the situation. 
 General Wheaton had made preparations to remain 
 in a little cove on the shore of the lake over night, 
 but now determined to return to the hi<rh bluff We 
 could not safely have remained with only a hundred 
 men, burdened with the wounded and artillery, and 
 after fighting the Indians all ni^ht we should have 
 been prevented getting to the bluff, and probably all 
 massacred. 
 
 ■* On getting my report. General Wheaton ordered 
 me to withdraw from the rocks and lead the retreat, 
 Kelly to cover tlie rear, and to fall back four milos. 
 I kept out a skirmish line to the left until the men 
 were exhausted and falling. When it became so dark 
 it became difficult to follow the trail, I put one of my 
 Modocs on the advance as guide, who led us out to 
 tlie top of the bluff. So suddenly was the movement 
 effected that the eiienn' did not discover it. We 
 
 ay 
 
 reached camp at elevca »'clock, wearied to death." 
 
 The Modocs resorted to many devices to deceive 
 the troops, such as wearing sage-brush fastened on 
 their heads to conceal their movements, and settin<5 
 up rocks of the size of a man's head on their breast- 
 works to draw the fire of the soldiers, who shot hun- 
 dreds of bullets before they discovered the trick. 
 
 r 
 
A DISCOUIIAOINO DAY. 
 
 409 
 
 By the time the volunteers, who during the skir- 
 mishing along the route had changed pt)aiti«)n with 
 Perry's troop, reached headquarters, the regulars, who 
 were now all in the advance, had made the coimection 
 hv their left with BernartI, encountering a destructive 
 fire as they iwissed between the stronghold and the 
 lake, where was a ravine only less danj'erous than that 
 on the south side. A detachment oi Burton's coni- 
 l»any of infantry and Fairchild's riHemen had pushed 
 forward and taken position in a pile of rocks near this 
 crossing to cover the troops as they passed. But, as 
 Wlieaton afterward expressed it, on their side there 
 "was nothing to fire at but pufl's of smoke issuing 
 from cracks in the rocks," while every movement of a 
 soldier was likely to be observed by the Modocs, who 
 swarmed behind their well selected defences. The 
 most of the troops passed by crawling over the rocks 
 on their hands and feet, suffering terribly, but Burton's 
 and Fairchild's companies were not able to extricate 
 themselves until after dark. After passing the first 
 ravine, Bernard, who could not be seen for the fog, 
 called across a point of the lake to say that he was 
 within four or five hundred yards of the Modoc posi- 
 tion, and Green determined to join him if possil>le, and 
 charge the stronghold before dark, but after advancing 
 aloiujj the lake shore under fire from the overhanjjinj' 
 clifl's, he found himself confronted with a deep chasm 
 ill Bernard's front so well defended that he had not 
 been able to cross it all day, and had also to defend 
 himself from a flank movement by the Modocs on his 
 left. While in this discouraging position, the fog 
 lifted, and a signal was received from the general. 
 
 The day was now well-nigh spent, and it was by 
 tliis time evident that there was nothing to be gained, 
 even with plenty of time, by exposing the volunteers 
 to the same ordeal through which the rci^ulars had 
 l>assed. It was plainly impossible to capture the 
 stronghold with the men and means at command. 
 AVheaton therefore ordered the volunteers to remain 
 
000 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 where they were, signalled Green to come into camp 
 if he thought best, while he himself prepared to spend 
 the night in a small cove on the shore of the lake. 
 
 But the Indians had observed the separation of the 
 volunteers from the regulars, and were making prei)a- 
 rations to surrc/und them by getting between tlieni 
 and the high biuff where stores of amnmnition and 
 supplies had been left in charge of only ten men. 
 Signal fires were already springmg up in that direc- 
 tion, and other indications given of the intentions of 
 the Indians. Upon this discovery Whoaton deter- 
 mined to fall back to camp, and again signalled Green 
 of his change of plan, authorizing him to withdraw to 
 Bernard's camp at Land's rancho, fourteen miles dis- 
 tant. The forces on the west side were all of Koss' 
 command, a portion of Perry's troop, and the infantry 
 reserve, separated by the fog from the main force 
 during the flank movement. Just at dark the retreat 
 to camp began, Applogate's company leading, tlio 
 wounded with the artillery in tlie centre, Kelly's com- 
 pany and Lieutenant Ross' detachment skirmisl dug 
 with the Indians in the rear. As night advanced tlic 
 Modocs withdrew, and stumblmg along the rocky 
 trail the command on the west reached the camp i)f 
 the night before about midnight, thoroughly ex- 
 hausted. 
 
 But if they found a march of four miles under the 
 circumstances exhausting. Green's forces wore in a 
 worse position. Fearing to expose his men a second 
 time to the peril of passing the Modoc position, when 
 night had fallen he commenced the march of fourteen 
 miles over a trail fit only for a chamois to travel, car- 
 rying the wounded in blankets, or on the backs of 
 ponies captured during the day. One of Fairchilds 
 men. Jerry Crook, whose thigh-bone was shattered. 
 rode the whole distance with his leg dangling. ] lis 
 comrades tied a rope to it by which it could be lifted 
 out of the way of obstacles; but nothing could pre- 
 vent frequent rude shocks from the rocks and bushes. 
 
 iiiij. 
 
MODOC VICTORY. 
 
 601 
 
 The sufferings of the wounded were horrible. Nor 
 were they ended when they came to Bernard's camp, 
 for on the lOth they were sent to Fort Klamath, sev- 
 enty miles away, over a rougli road, three miles of 
 which were naked boulders. And there were others 
 whose sufferintjs were aujoniziny; to bear or to behold. 
 It was not until between one and two o'clock p. M. of 
 the 18th that Green's command reached camp. When 
 a halt was called, the men fell asleep standing or rid- 
 iiiij. Their clothes were in shreds from crawlimj 
 among the rooks; their shoes were worn away from 
 their feet. If tliey had been a month in the field, 
 tliey could not have looked more used up in every 
 way. After making arrangements for the removal of 
 the wounded to Ftirt Klamath under charge of Jack- 
 son with an escort of twenty men on the night of the 
 I'Jth, Green and Mason returned to headijuarters on 
 tlie night of the 18th, attended by ten Indian scouts, 
 takinjj the road around tlie north side of the lake. 
 
 The loss sustained in tlie reconnoissance — it was no 
 more — of tlie 17th was nine killed and thirtv wounded, 
 including in the latter list Captain David Perry and 
 Lieutenant John G. Kyle of tlie regulars, both wounded 
 at the crossing of the ravine before the stronghold, 
 and Lieutenant George Roberts of the Calif :rnia vol- 
 unteer riflemen. The dead were left upon the field, 
 or if alive when left, were soon despatched by tlie 
 Indian women. There was no doubt that the army 
 had suffered a total defeat at the hniids of the Modocs, 
 or that the army officers were surprised by it. Their 
 utterances after the affair were very different from 
 their confident predictions before the trial. "The 
 ditticulties encountered in moving to connect our lines 
 l)y the lake side were very great," Wheaton reports, 
 "tlie troops being hardly able to crawl over the sharp 
 locks and lediT'^" that separate them, and at the same 
 time fight a Nvcil-entrenched and desperate enemy, 
 jiroverbially skillful as marksmen, and armed with 
 good rifles. Bernard had been unable during the en- 
 
 
602 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 n ! 
 
 tire day to advance across the gorge in Lis front; tlie 
 movement toward his right was not accompHshed 
 until nearly dark, and sunset found the troops too 
 nmch exhausted to render a night attack practicable. 
 It was evident to all that we had not force enough 
 to invest the enemy's position, or artillery enough to 
 shell him out of it. ... I have never before encoun- 
 tered an enemy, civilized or savage, occupying a posi- 
 tion of such great natural strength as the IModoc 
 strt)nghold, nor have I ever seen troops engage a bet- 
 ter armed or more skillful foe." 
 
 "It is utterly impossible tt) give a description of the 
 place occujMed by the enemy as their strongliold," says 
 Green. " Everything was done by officers and men 
 that could be done ; troops never behaved better. 
 They contended gallantly with an enemy hidden by 
 rocks, deep gorges, and fog ; we tried it on every side 
 with the same result." "I will leave it to others," 
 remarks Mason, "to find language to convey an 
 ade(juate idea of the almost impassable charactir 
 of the country over which these operations were 
 conducted, and which make the Modoc posititui 
 a second Gibraltar." And Bernard savs, "I have 
 wished, respectfully, to say that the place the Indian 
 now occujiy cannot be taken by a less force than si'Vi ii 
 hundred men; and to take the place by an assault by 
 this force will cost half tlie C()mmand in killed and 
 wounded. A large force, well supi)lied, judicit)usly 
 handled, moving at night by ap[>roaches, piling np 
 rocks to ])rotect themselves so they can operate dur- 
 ing the day, may take the place. Howitzers could bo 
 eilectually used on the east side of the lava beds." 
 
 No blame could attach to any hi consequence of 
 defeat. The soldier should have antici})ations of vii'- 
 torv, and a tjeneral should believe in his own skill. 
 There had been no drawbacks; the officers had gono 
 into the fight fully prepared, even to the fog niii( h 
 was to conceal their advan(e; and though tiiis »ir- 
 circumstance, ov its constant coutiimancc, was 
 
BICKERINGS OF THE WHITE MEN. 
 
 son 
 
 mentioned as tletrinicntal, there could be no doubt 
 that it was a great protection to the troops, and that 
 \vithout it the loss would have been twice as great. 
 All through the Indian wars there was no small jeal- 
 ousy between volunteers and regulars. In this in- 
 stance Applegate was accused of doing nothing with 
 his company when, in reality, he was pre[)aring to 
 charge the stronghold at the other end of the line 
 wlien ordered to withdraw, and lost two of his men. 
 Bo vie savs the Orcijon vt)lunteers were discouraged, 
 and therefore failed to keep up the connection with 
 the riglit of Perry, when the fact is that so far from 
 ht M^ discouraged or reluctant to join Perry on their 
 hey had passed Perry and were on his right, 
 
 ri'i 
 
 iiwi s(, far in advance of him that when the connnand 
 was given to withdraw toward tlie left they did not 
 luar it and were left behind. A portion of Perry's 
 troop which failed to connect was excused on account 
 nf the fog. Boyle dismisses the volunteers with the 
 rciuark tliat altliouy-li there were a few brave men 
 among the volunteers, notabl}'. Captain Kelly and 
 JiieutenantReam, "their services did not renmnerate 
 tl 10 government for the rations consunied and the large 
 amount of forage furnislied their horses." Boyle, be- 
 ing (|uartermai-iter, may have felt tlie drain on his 
 siij)pJio&; but as t.(. the value to the government of 
 anything tl'Jt vk,' done in the Modoc country about 
 this time, lux alight have been grave question with- 
 out casting shu'^ up*»u the pco})le of Oregon. 
 
 For some re.'^*-- n, vvhich could probably be explained 
 in military circles, Boyle also blames Cajitain Bcrnaid 
 t' »r the slaughter whicli occurred in passing tlu" strong- 
 hold on the north, sayinij that he did ni>tobev Colonel 
 < Irien s order to advance his left and draw the tire of 
 the ModtK's while the troops were trying to make the 
 <'onnectioi\ vith his forces; and this, although Green 
 says in ln.> .port that he "sent Bernard with his 
 troop to di'^ them — the Indians — back, whicli he 
 dill successiUi.y," Bernard had more than his share 
 
 f 
 
 ■ 
 
 {. 
 
 ■n 
 
 i IKS 
 
 ji. 
 
 h 
 
 H 
 
 p[-1 
 
 t t 
 
 k 
 
nr 
 
 im 
 
 SO:\IE INDIAN EriSODES. 
 
 cf ihc fii'litiii'i to do, the Indians in front of him bcinix 
 in greater numbers than at any other point. In a 
 desperate encounter, such as this one, the troops 
 needed the inspiration of cool and confident officers ; 
 but Captain Jackson was so ill this day that, accord- 
 ing to Bernard, he should have been in the hospital, 
 " falling several times upon the ground from exhaus- 
 tion." Doubtless his lieutenants behaved valorously, 
 but it is plain that Bernard had his hands full, and 
 that he received blame which should not have been 
 accorded to him. 
 
 o^ the Modocs was unknown, 
 great. They were consid- 
 
 nidition for making sudden 
 
 The loss on the s\^>" 
 but was not thought 
 ered to be in as good 
 
 descents on the settlements as before the battle ; and 
 Applegate's company was sent to Lost river to pro- 
 tect tliose nearest to the stronghold. In fact thcv 
 were scouting within six miles of Lost river on the 
 19th, wlien Lieutenant Ream with twenty -five volun- 
 teers was on his way to Bernard's camp with the 
 horses belonging to Fairchild's company. They ];ad 
 captured the arms and annnunition of the fallen sol- 
 diers, which was considerable, as the troops were or- 
 dered to have one hundred rounds on their ^ ^sons, 
 and fifty rounds lU close reserve. The time for which 
 the Jacksonville volunteers had enlisted, thirty days, 
 had expired on the Gth, the prospect of a battle only 
 having detained them beyond that time; and as tlioy 
 had left their homes and business without preparation, 
 at a moment's warning, they were now anxious to re- 
 turn. The possibility that the result of the battle of 
 the 17th miffht cause an excitement on the reserva- 
 tion, rendered the presence of Captain Applegate at 
 Yainax desirable. 
 
 In consideration of these circumstances. General 
 Wlieaton, on reaching Van Brimmer's, sent a dispat('\ 
 to Portland bv the wav of Yreka, askinix General 
 Canby for tliree hundred foot-troops and four mortars, 
 and suuyresting that the governor of California be 
 
PE.VCE POLICY. 
 
 505 
 
 called upon "to send volunteers to protect that portion 
 of his state open to incursions from the jModocs. To 
 this demand Canby responded by ordering two com- 
 panies of artillery and two of infantry from the de- 
 ]>.irtment of California, and one of artillery and one of 
 infantry from the department of the Columbia ; and, 
 as the inliabitants of Surprise valley apprehended an 
 uprising of the Snakes on account of the !Modoc ex- 
 citement, a company of cavalry was sent to their 
 protection, making the number of troops, when the 
 reinforcements should arrive in the Modoc country, 
 six hundred exclusive of ihe garrisons at the several 
 posts in the district of tiie Lakes. But even with 
 these, the country being in parts inadequately guarded, 
 the general sent a recommendation to army lieadquar- 
 tors at Washington that conditional authority should 
 ho given him to call upcm the governors of Califc^rnia 
 and Oregon for two companies of volunteers from each 
 state. 
 
 On the 23d the encampment at Van Brimmer's was 
 abandoned, the troops and stores being removed to 
 Lost river ford, where a permanent encampment was 
 made, and where preparations were carried on for re- 
 newing the attack when the reinforcements should 
 arrive. These preparations consisted in constructing 
 two mortar boats with which to attack from the lake- 
 side, while attacking at the same time from the land, 
 surroundino; and batterin<i down the stronL^hold — a 
 })lan which, had it been suffered to go mto execution, 
 would have put an end to the Modoc war. 
 
 But now occurred one of those blunders of admin- 
 istration which have periodically marred our Indian 
 policy 
 
 On the 30th of January General Slierman was di- 
 rected by the secretar\' of war to notify General Canby 
 by telegraph that offensive operations against the Mo- 
 docs should cease, the troops being used only to pro- 
 ti'ct the citizens and repel attacks. The explanation 
 soon followed A peace commissioner was to under- 
 
606 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 take to acconipliLih what the inilitar}^ had fiiilcd to tlo 
 — conquer tlie obstinate hostility of the Modocs and 
 obtain their consent to go upon some reservation, if 
 not upon that one where by the terms of treaty they 
 belonged. 
 
 But if Wheaton was surprised at this wholly unex- 
 pected change of policy, he was equally mortified at 
 being relieved of his command at the same time by 
 Colonel Alvan C. Gillem of the 1st cavalry. Nor 
 was the dissatisfaction on this account confined to 
 himself, but was shared by most, if not all, of Ins offi- 
 cers, and the state authorities and people as well. 
 
 That Canby regarded the change of policy as a re- 
 flection on himself also, seems to be indicatetl bv his 
 t >leorram to Sliernian, in answer to the new order 
 from the president and war department. He said 
 tliat hostilities with the Modocs could not have been 
 avoided, as they were determined to resist, and had 
 made their preparatiims ; that he had been solicitous 
 that they should be fairly treated, and had taken care 
 that they should not be coerced until their claims had 
 been decided upon by the proper authority; liavi:i^' 
 done tliat, he now thought tliev should be treated like 
 any other criminals, as there would be no peace on 
 the frontier until they were subdued and punished. 
 Two or three months later the government was pre- 
 pared to acknowledge Canby 's good judgment. 
 
 Slierman rejilied to Canby protest : "Let all de- 
 fensive measures proceed, but order no attack on tlic 
 Indians till the former orders are modified or changed 
 by the President, who seems disposed to allow tln^ 
 ]ieace men to try their hands on Captain Jack." How 
 significant of his opinion of what was going on at 
 Washington is Sherman's dispatch 1 In the mean- 
 time the President and Secretary Delano had an in- 
 terview with Secretary Belknap, after which Delano 
 informed the secretary of war that he had decided to 
 sond to the scene of the difficulties a commission con- 
 sisting of three persons, witb instruction to ascertain 
 
PEACE COMMISSIOJf. 
 
 807 
 
 tlio causes which led to the existing liostilitics, and 
 tlie most eftective measures for preventing their con- 
 tinuance. The Secretary of the Interior further gave 
 it as his opinion hi the instructions, that it was advis- 
 able to remove the Modocs to some new reservation, 
 invsumably the Coast reservation; and directed the 
 commissioners to endeavor to get their consent to be 
 })laoed there, unless in their judgment some other 
 ]>lace should be better adapted to accomplishing the 
 purpose of the department to make peace. The com- 
 missioners were directed not to interfere with the 
 military, otherw.se than express a wish that no unnec- 
 t'ssary violence should be used toward the Modt)cs, 
 whose confidence the government desired to obtahi, 
 uiul their voluntary consent to whatever regulations 
 miiiht be made. 
 
 As the chairman of the commission, IMeacham, had 
 to come from Washington, some time nmst elapse be- 
 fore the object for which it was organized could be 
 accomplished, or the business begun. This interval 
 was not without its exciting episodes. Between the 
 17th of Januarj' and the 4th of Februar}^ eight Mo- 
 docs had been killed, as many wounded, and nearly 
 all then- horses captured, their princli)al loss occurring 
 oil the 25th of January, when, emboldened by tlieir 
 hito victory, they attacked the rear guard of Bernard's 
 tiain while moving camp from the southeast corner of 
 Tule lake to Clear lake. They captured one wagon, 
 when Bernard returned and fought tlu'm. No losses 
 Wire sustained by the troops. The capture of their 
 liorses was a serious blow to the Modocs, who were 
 tlms deprived of the means of making their predatory 
 excursions into the surrounding country, either for 
 pui'|)()ses of attack, or to procure subsistence. 
 
 Being shorn of a part of his strength, Captain Jack 
 resorted to his native cunniny:, and allowed it to be 
 s'M(l tlint he was tired of war. A constant connnuni- 
 cation was kept up between Jack's camp and the Ind- 
 
 1 '^ 
 
m 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 ion women living with wliite men in Siskiyou county, 
 the latter visiting the lava beds and carrying informa- 
 tion. Soon after the battle of the 17th, and about 
 tlie time of Bernard's last skirmish, an Indian woman 
 from Dorris' made a stolen visit to Jack's camp, bring- 
 ini; back with her when she returned another Indian 
 woman named Dixie, who conveyed a message to 
 Dorris and Fairchild from Jack, requesting them to 
 meet him for a conference, at a place appointed, where 
 they might come unarmed, without being molested. 
 Dixie brought the further news, that on the 1 8th a 
 quarrel had occurred among the Modocs because Jack 
 and Bogus Charley had not fought on the day of the 
 battle, and that in tlie difficulty Jack had been shot 
 tlirough the arm, all of which was intended to create 
 the belief tliat there was a peace party among tlie 
 Mod(Jcs, of wliich Jack was the head. 
 
 Tliis familiar phase of Indian diplomacy did not de- 
 ceive anyone ; but Fairchild beint; anxious to converse 
 with Jack, if indeed he wished to have a conference, 
 went out to the bluff overlooking the lava beds, and 
 sent Dixie to inform Jack that he would see him 
 there, and that should he come he would not bo 
 harmed ; but Jack refused to leave his camp. After 
 sending messages back and forth for some time, Jack 
 offered to come half-way, a proposition declined by 
 Fairchild, who finally sent word he would receive him 
 at his camp on the blufT anytime up to the evening of 
 the 1st. Jack, however, did not come; and it was 
 believed by many that he had only made an effort to 
 get Fairchild into his power, wliile others thought ho 
 really desired peace, but was afraid to risk being cap- 
 tured. Whatever his motives were, a scouting party 
 of his men, after a quiet interval of two weeks, ven- 
 tured out and burned the house of Denis Crawley, 
 made historical by the events of the 29th of Novem- 
 ber, and escaped again to their caves, though pursued 
 by the troops. 
 
 Meantime the forces ordered to the Modoc country 
 
 lllOf 
 
SETTLERS INDIGNANT. ' 
 
 809 
 
 by Canby were slowly collecting, embarrassed by the 
 difficulty of inoviug in midwinter. Gillem proceeded 
 to Yreka, where he was met by Major Throckmorton 
 from San Francisco, with h.is infantry comma.id, and 
 tooether they pushed forward to Van Brimmer's 
 through a heavy snowstorm, the troops having 
 marched all the way from Redding. A company had 
 been ordered from Camp Gaston, which was compelled 
 to march fifteen days in severe weather before arriv- 
 ing at Yreka. The transportation of supplies was 
 even more difficult than moving troops, though it 
 went steadily on. 
 
 On the 3d and 4th of February the Oregon volun- 
 teer regulars nmstered out. There were at this time 
 200 men at Wlieaton's camp on Lost river, and 100 
 at Bernard's new camp at Applegate's on Clear lake, 
 while Perry's company was divided between Dorris', 
 Fairchild's and Small's places for their protection. 
 The artillery and other troops were still en route ; 
 but there were men enough in the immediate vicinitv 
 of the Modoc stronghold to prevent any very open 
 demonstrations on their part had it been their inten- 
 tion to make them. On the 4th of February Gillem 
 took up his headquarters at Van Brimmer's, as being 
 nearer the telegraph station of Yreka, soon after es- 
 tablishing a tri- weekly line of couriers to and from 
 tliat place. While these preparations were making 
 for war, the commissioners who were to bring about 
 a peace were also on their way to the front. 
 
 When the people most interested in all these pro- 
 ceedings learned that an effort was to be made to 
 coax the Modocs to accept peace and the reservation 
 of their choice instead of punishing them, there was 
 a general feeling of indignation, and the grand jury 
 of Jackson county on the 14th of February indicted 
 eight of Jack's band as being guilty of the slaughter 
 of the 29th and 30th of November on the evidence 
 of Mrs Brotherton and her son who identified them. 
 This step was taken in order to forestall the possible 
 
 
 I 
 

 ! 
 
 
 610 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 action of the peace commission in removing tliom be- 
 yond the reach of the laws. The sentiment of the 
 sufferers by the Modoc outbreak, and those best in- 
 formed upon the subject, was that it was an insult to 
 the state, and an outrage upon mdividuals for the 
 govcrmnent to open this door of escape for Jack and 
 his band. 
 
 The connnissloners appointed by the government 
 to conduct the negotiations with Captain Jack wire 
 at first A. B. Meacham, L. B. Odeneal, and J. H. 
 Wilbur; but Meacham refusing to serve with either 
 of these men for personal reasons, Jesse Applcgatc 
 and Samuel Case were substituted. Canby was ad- 
 vised of the appointments, and also that the commis- 
 sions wore instructed to meet and cimfer with him 
 at Linkville on the 15th of February. The com- 
 mission was not, however, organized until the 18tli, 
 owing to the failure of Meacham to arrive on the 
 day appointed. There was a general feeling that tl.e 
 conunission would be a fiiilure, a fact which was ac- 
 knowledged by its chairman while j-^et at Yreka, in a 
 telegram to Washington, conveying the intelligence 
 that Governor Grovcr had filed a protest with tie 
 board against any action of the commission wlii< ]i 
 should purport to condone the crimes of the ]Modo( s, 
 who should be given up and delivered over to the 
 civil authorities for trial and punishment ; and hisist- 
 ing that the commissioners could have no power to 
 declare a reservaticm on the surveyed and settled 
 lands of Lost river anv more than on the settled 
 lands in any other portion of the state. To this pro- 
 test, which was forwarded to the secretary of the 
 hitcrior, Delano returned answer that the commissi( u 
 should proceed without reference to it; and that if 
 the authority of tlie United States was defied or 
 resisted, the government would not be responsible fr 
 the results, and the state might be left to take care 
 of the Indians without assistance from Washington. 
 To this somewhat insolent message the people could 
 
SAVACIE AND CIVILIZED DIPLOMACY. 
 
 511 
 
 only reply by still protesting. The commissioners, 
 UiidcT tiie orders of the government, repaired to Fair- 
 child's rancho in order to be nearer Captain Jack's 
 headquarters, as well as to be placed in earlier connnu- 
 iiication with army headquarters and with Washington 
 1 ly meansof courier and telegraph, and conmienced their 
 labors. On his way to Fairchild's, at Yreka, ^leacham 
 expressed the opinion in public that Jack was an 
 hont)rable man, and would go upon a reservation if 
 requested by him to do so; but in his dispatches to 
 Secretary Delano he Avas l(>ss hopeful. A messenger 
 was immediately sent to Whittle's ferry to secure the 
 services of Bob Whittle and his Indian wife Matilda 
 in carrvinoj on negotiations with Jack. Pendinof the 
 result of Matilda's interview with Jack, she havinjx 
 been sent to solicit a conference between the Modocs 
 and the commissioners, the board entered upon an 
 invest!' >-ation, so far as thev were able, of the causes 
 of the present attitude of the ^lodocs toward the 
 government and the people of Oregon. 
 
 On the "Jlst of February, the chairman telegraphed 
 to tlie actinij commissioner of Indian affairs at Wash- 
 iiiirton, that his messenjjer to Jack had returned brinor. 
 ing tlie intelligence that the Modocs were expecting 
 some one to come to them with a message; that they 
 wore tired of living in the rocks, and desired peace; 
 were glad to hear from Washington, but did not wish 
 to talk with anvone who had been en«jja<j;ed in the 
 war; and that if Case and Meacliam would meet them 
 outside the rocks they should not be harmed. That 
 was not, however, what was reported to the commis- 
 sion by Bob Whittle, who said that the Indians, 
 twentv in number, met him accidentallv a mile and a 
 lialf from camp. The two parties advanced within 
 TOO yards of each other, dismounted, and laying down 
 tlieir arms, went forward and shook hands. Jack 
 and Sconchin, with seventeen armed men, soon 
 came up, and dismounting, also shook hands. Whit- 
 tle then made known his errand, and Jack consented 
 
 '■'■ 
 
612 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 to a confereHce if Steele and Roscborougli, of Yreka, 
 and Faircliild should bo presuiit, but declined to meet 
 the conunissionerd, saying that though their hearts 
 might bo good they Were unacquainted witli them, and 
 desired their friends to be present. 
 
 The president had already anticipated their wishes, 
 and by the advice of Canby appointed lloseborougli 
 as one of the conmiissionera; and in comi)any witli 
 Stoijle, who, it was thought, would bo useful in com- 
 municating with the Modocs, the new commissiom r 
 was on his way to the front, when a second interview 
 was had with Captain Jack. At this meeting, on the 
 24th of February, Whittle was met a mile from the 
 lava beds by a party of forty Modocs heavily armed, 
 carrying needle guns, but declaring that tliey had no 
 disposition to fight, and only wanted peace. Jack 
 boasted to Whittle that he was not yet so thoroughly 
 incensed as ho might be, and pointed hi evidence t > 
 the fact that the houses of Dorris, Faircliild, Van 
 Brimmer, Small, and Wliittle, were yet standing; 
 saying again that he would consent to talk wit 
 Steele, Roseborough, or Faircliild. No propositi( 
 on either side were made for peace, negotiations (-. 
 this character being left to be considered in general 
 council, should a council be arranged. Meantime 
 Jack was growing impatient, and expressed a desire 
 to have the meeting with the commissioners ovei-. 
 A Modoc named Dave returned to the camp of tlio 
 commissioners with Whittle, and on the following 
 day took a message to Jack that Faircliild would visit 
 him on the 26th to arrange for the council. 
 
 Accordingly, on that day Fairchild visited Jack, 
 accompanied, not by Whittle and Matilda, but by 
 Hiddle, and his Indian wife Toby, as interpreters. 
 He was charged to tell Jack that the commissioners 
 would come in good faith to make peace, and thougli 
 he, Fairchild, could not give them the terms, he would 
 fix upon a place and time of meeting, and whatever 
 he agreed to would be accepted. But Jack would 
 
MORE CONFERENCES. 
 
 513 
 
 not consent to come out of the lava beds to Iiold a 
 council, nor would Fairchild agree that the coininis- 
 sioiKirs should go unarmed into the lava beds. Fair- 
 child therefore returned without having come to any 
 urrant'eniont: and with him camu several of the worst 
 of Jack's band, Hooker Jim, Curly-hi^aded Doctor, 
 a:i(l Shacknastv" Jim, who wished to make terms with 
 Lalake, tlie old chief of the Klaniaths, for the return 
 of a banil of sixty horses which the Klamaths had 
 taken from the Alodocs during the war, and which 
 Ldake now promised to restore. No one had any 
 iiuthority to interfere or to prevent the Modocs thus 
 supplying themselves with liorses, while pretending to 
 bj waiting to make peace with the agents of the 
 government. 
 
 Oil the arrival of Roscborough and Steele the 
 h )ard of commissioners met, when the terms of peace 
 which should be presented to Jack were discussed. 
 The discussion resulted in ofFcring a g- iieral anuujsty 
 to all Modocs, on condition of their full and complete 
 suTendcr, and consent to remove to a distant roser- 
 v.itioii within the limits of Oregon or California; all 
 c )iiiinlssioners voting for these terms except ^leacham. 
 Fiiirchild was also instructed to say that Cauby would 
 make peace and conclude terms, !Meacham also dis- 
 senting from this proposition. 
 
 With tlioso instructions Steele proceeded, on the 
 otli of March, in company with R. II. Atwcll, a 
 newspaper rcportor, Fairchild, and the interpreters, 
 lliildle anJ his wife Toby, to the Modoc strongiiold, 
 a; 1(1 had a conference with tlie head men concerning 
 tli'j acceptance of these propositions of the peace com- 
 nussion. Captain Jack gave his consent to the terms 
 offered, and a3 Steele supposed accepted for his band, 
 though there was evidently some dissatisfacti(>n on 
 the part of a portion of his men. As Steele had but 
 little knowledge of the Modoc language, and as Jack 
 spoke no English except a few English names of 
 tilings, Steele was deceived as to the real import of 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. S3 
 
514 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 what was going on, and misunderstanding Jack's pro- 
 fessions of peaceable intent, fully believed he had 
 bound his people to surrender to the government and 
 accept its mercy. The mistake seems to have been a 
 singular one, inasmuch as Riddle and his wife were 
 the best of interpreters, and both Steele and Fairchild 
 familiar with Indian manners; besides which, Scarface 
 could speak English, and probably some of the others. 
 
 On returning to headquarters Steele reported that 
 peace was made ; the Modocs accepted. An immedi- 
 ate feeling of relief was experienced by the commis- 
 sioners, who set about preparing despatches and 
 sunnnoning couriers, when Fairchild declared there 
 was a mistake in the report; the Modocs had not 
 agreed to a surrender and removal. So confident was 
 Steele that he had understood Jack correctly tliat he 
 proposed returning and having a second interview. 
 Fairchild, equally positive there had been a misunder- 
 standing, and fearing the effect when Steele's report 
 became known to the Modocs, declined to expose him- 
 self to their rage. Meacham, in view of these con- 
 flicting opinions, cautiously reported that he had reason 
 f )r believing an honorable and permanent peace would 
 be concluded within a few days, at the same time so 
 guarding his statements as to commit himself to no 
 particular theory. 
 
 This caution was well timed, as the result of Steele's 
 second interview proved. On returning to the cave 
 the same evening, he found the Indians nnich excited, 
 by what it was difficult to toll. Hooker Jim and tlie 
 others who visited the camp at Fairchild's might have 
 been alarmed by stories received from go-between 
 Indian women and vicious white men ; this was the 
 view adopted by the friends of the Modocs. But 
 there were other circumstances that looked like pie- 
 meditated deceit and treachery. The Modocs liad 
 been reiinforced by twenty warriors, though Captain 
 Jack still professed peace principles. S?onchin was 
 openly hostile, and professed great anger at the pro- 
 
JACK DEFIANT. 
 
 615 
 
 posal to surrender, rejecting emphatically all offers of 
 j)eace. Even Steele, whose confidence in the Modocs 
 was so great, was alarmed. That night he slept in 
 the bed of Scarface, who sat beside him until morning 
 to protect him from the bloodthirstiness of others. 
 
 In the morning Jack wore instead of his own a 
 woman's hat, and Sconchin, as on the previous even- 
 inu^, made a war speech, violent in tone and manner. 
 When ho had finished, Jack threw off his woman's hat 
 and hypocrisy together, and made a very determined 
 war speech, declaring that he would never go upon a 
 nservation to be starved. When told bv Steele of 
 tlio power of the American people, and the futility of 
 resistance, he listened with composure, and then re- 
 plied, "Kill with bullets don't hurt much ; starve to 
 death hurt a heap 1 " 
 
 He referred also to the punishment inflicted on 
 his people when he was a boy by the Yroka volun- 
 teers under Ben Wright, and having made as strong 
 a case as he could to justify his actions plaiidy defied 
 tlio i)(>wcr of the United States. As much in sym- 
 jiatliy with them as was Steele, he was glad to be 
 permitted to return to Fairchild's on the morning of 
 tlio 4th of March. No full report of this interview 
 was ever made public. It was understood that the 
 peace commissioners offered anmesty to all the Modocs 
 who surrendered as prisoners of war, to remove them 
 to Auixel Island in San Francisco bay, and feed and 
 shelter them until a reservation could bo found for 
 tlieni in a warmer climate, presumal)ly in Arizona. 
 They were to be comfortably clothed and shtltercd 
 wliere they were until conveyed to Angel Island, and 
 Canl)y ofl'ered to secure permission for Captain Jack 
 to visit the president of the United States in com- 
 pany with some of his head men. 
 
 Tliese offers were, to the comprehension of Jack, 
 but signs of weakness. Why should Canby and the 
 coinnnssiniiors extend forgiveness to an enemy if they 
 could kill him? Such an offer could only proceed 
 
S16 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 from a conviction that the Modocs in their caves 
 were invincible ; or otherwise the proposition must be 
 a trick to get them out of their stronghold. Jack 
 made a counter proposition, to be forgiven and loft in 
 the lava beds. He had only twenty-three warriors, 
 he said, forgetting that on the previous evening 
 Steele had seen sixty-nine at the council. He wanted 
 Meacham and Applegate. with six men, unarmed, to 
 come on the following day and shake hands with him 
 in conclusion of a peace. 
 
 On returning from this interview Steele advised 
 the commissioners to cease all negotiations until the 
 Indians should themselves solicit terms; that the 
 Modocs thought the white men were afraid of them, 
 and carried on negotiations solely in the hope of get- 
 ting Canby and Gillem, Meacham and Ap|)legate in 
 their power, in which event they could certainly kill 
 them. As for himself he would not take the risk 
 again of going to the Modocs. 
 
 The second report of Steele produced a decided 
 change in the prospects of the commission, and Mea- 
 cham at once telegraphed Delano that the Modocs 
 rejected all offers, and that their proposal to meet in 
 full force two of the commissioners and six men, un- 
 armed, in the lava beds signified treachery i that tlic 
 commissioners were still willing to meet the Modocs, 
 but not on their terms; that the Indians had lieen 
 reiinforced from some source ; that protection liad 
 been offered to all who would come out of the lava 
 beds; but that the conmiicsion was a failure and lie 
 waited for instructions. 
 
 To this candid statement Delano telegraphed that 
 he did not believe the Modocs meant treachery; that 
 the mission should not be a failure ; that he belicvid 
 he understood the unwillingness of the Modocs to 
 confide in him, and that negotiations should be con- 
 tinued. How the honorable secretary came to know 
 so nmch my authorities do not say. Canby tele- 
 graphed to Sherman on the 5th that the reports fruia 
 
ALLEGED WRONGS. 
 
 517 
 
 the Modocs indicated treachery and a renewal of 
 hostilities. In reply Sherman said on the Oth that 
 the authorities at Washington confided in him but 
 not in the commissioners, and placed the matter in 
 his hands. 
 
 o 
 
 While the negotiations with Jack had been in 
 progress the commissioners were engaged in examin- 
 ing;, according to the instructions of the Secretary of 
 tlie Interior into the cause of the war. On the 22d 
 f February their first report was formulated, in 
 wliicli was recited all the alleged wrongs of the 
 Modocs, as alread}^ known to the reader of my general 
 liistory, dissatisfaction with the Klamath reservation 
 as a place of residence, owing mainly to the domina- 
 tion of the Klamaths and ill treatment by the agents. 
 With reference to these charges, the commissioners 
 n marked that concerning the latter complaint it was 
 well founded; they were satisfied the fault lay in the 
 treaty, and not in the conduct the agents and em- 
 ployes of the reservation. If food and clothing had 
 IxH'U insufficient they had nevertheless been impar- 
 tially distributed. No indulgences had been granted 
 to one tribe or band not extended to all; and wliile 
 the Klamaths, Snakes, and Sconchin's band of 
 Modocs were contented. Jack and his followers alone 
 found cause to justify a refusal to perform their treaty 
 stipulations. 
 
 Out of this refusal had grown the causes which led 
 to the war ; the assertion by the Modocs of a right to 
 a country which they had conveyed b}- treaty to the 
 I'nited States, and which was subsequently settled 
 upon in good faith by citizens of Oregim; their per- 
 sistence in rf)amhig over, and refusal to abate their 
 pretensions to, this country, treating the settlers as 
 tlieir tenants, and committing acts which must inevita- 
 lily lead to collision between the races. Then followed 
 the attempt to compel them to go where they belonged 
 — an attempt ordered by the Indian department at 
 
518 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 Waslilngton — and their resistance. These were the 
 causes which led to the war, as found by the commis- 
 sioners. 
 
 Their instructions also required them to devise the 
 most judicious and effective measures for preventing 
 the continuance of hostilities, and for the restoration 
 of peace. The findings upon this question were rather 
 ne::^ative than positive. The commission decided that 
 in any settlement of the existing hostilities it would 
 be inadmissible to return them to the Klamath reser- 
 vation, or to set apart a reservation for them on Lost 
 river, or anywhere in the vicinity. They objected, 
 also, to a poace on the basis of a general amnesty, 
 which would bring the federal and state governments 
 in conflict, and furnish a precedent calculated to cause 
 misconduct on reservations, besides greatly offending 
 the friends and neighbors of the slain settlers. It 
 was their opinion that the eight warriors indicted in 
 Jackson county should be surrendered to the state 
 autliorities if demanded, though the government 
 should assign them counsel for defence, and secure 
 them an impartial trial, protecting thtra from lawless 
 vi(jlence. Should the terms which the commission 
 would submit to the Modocs be accepted, namely, a 
 general amnesty, with the exception of the eight war- 
 riors, and removal to a new reservation far away, they 
 should be taken away at once to some fort, other than 
 Fort Klamath, where they could be protected and 
 kept under surveillance until their final destinati(»u 
 was decided upon. 
 
 The reasons assigned for these conclusions were 
 that although before the 29th of November it might 
 have been practicable to have assigned the !Modocs a 
 reservation on Lost river, the events of that day ren- 
 dered such a proposition absurd, even had not the 
 previous misconduct of the Indians made it impolitic'. 
 There could be no real peace with the Modocs in that 
 vicinity. On the Klama li reservation there could ho 
 scarcely less cause of conflict, since the Klamaths luul 
 
DIVERS OPINIONS. 
 
 519 
 
 taljen part in the war against the Modocs. The 
 Klaaiaths themselves would object to having the res- 
 ervation made a penal colony for thieves, with whom 
 they were expected to live on terms of equality. The 
 objections to a general amnesty were founded upon 
 the history of the Modoc rebellion from first to last, 
 culminating in resistance to United States authority, 
 and the slaughter of settlers. To the report of the 
 conmiissioners Canby gave his approval, with the ex- 
 ception that he held the opinion that the Indians by 
 surrendering as prisoners of war would be exempt 
 fiuni process and trial in either Oregon or California. 
 From this opinion Iloseborough dissented, but thought 
 neither state would attempt to punish the warriors if 
 satisfied they would be removed to some distant coun- 
 try beyond the possibility of a return. This was so 
 far as the people of California were concerned, who 
 seemed to have more sympathy for the Modocs than 
 for the suffering settlers. But the people of south- 
 ern Oregon were extremely sensitive on the subje( t < f 
 a general anmesty, and expressed themselves in a 
 manner that was construed by the Modoc apologists 
 to mean general bloodthirstiness on their side. It is 
 not unlikely that representations to that effect found 
 t!ieir way to Washington through other avenues than 
 tlie California newspapers, and that the secretary of 
 tiie interior feared the effect of such utterances upon 
 the members of the commission ; hence the authority 
 givon to Canby to select two other commissioners to 
 fill the i)laces of Applegate and Case, resigned. That 
 Ai)plogate would have resigned had not his relatives 
 been impugned by the allegations of Captain Jack, 
 into which mquiry was ordered to be made, is rendered 
 j)robable by his separate report made on the 'Jth of 
 March. 
 
 " The commission appointed to examine into the 
 causes and bring to a conclusion the Modoc war, 
 liaving concluded its labors," writes Jesse Applegate, 
 " it was atfreed that each member should submit his 
 
620 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 own views and opinions of the subject as a final re- 
 port. In pursuance of which agreement I submit the 
 following opinions: 1st. The causes leading to the 
 war were the dissatisfaction of Captain Jack's band 
 of Modocs with the provisions and execution of the 
 treaty of October 14, 1864, and refusal to abide there- 
 by. To what extent wrongs justified resistance, the 
 commission, having no power judicially to investigate, 
 cannot say. 2d. The immediate cause of hostilities 
 was lesistance by the Indians to military coercion, 
 3d. Unconditional surrender of the Indians, and the 
 trial and punishment of the guilty by the civil author- 
 ities, would have been more satisfactory to the whites, 
 and a better example to the Indians, than more len- 
 ient conditions. 4th. Terms of surrender were offered 
 the Indians to save the further effusion of blood, and 
 secure a permanent peace by the removal of the whole 
 tribe out of the country ; a result scarcely to be hoped 
 for by continued hostilities. 5th. The terms agreed 
 to by the commission were suggested and must be 
 carried into effect by the military. A commission to 
 negotiate a peace was therefore unnecessary. 6th. A 
 commission to inquire into the causes of the war 
 should be composed of men wholly disinterested in 
 the findings of the commission, directly or indirectly, 
 and clothed with full power to investigate. 7tli. 
 Some of the personnel of this connnission being ob- 
 noxious to the Indians, it was a hindrance to negotia- 
 tions. Having no power to administer oaths, or send 
 for persons or papers, and the official acts of the chair- 
 man to be reviewed, its findings nmst have been im- 
 perfect and unsatisfactory in regard to the causes of 
 the war. I therefore consider the commission an ex- 
 
 {)ensive blunder." Mr Applegate's compensation had 
 leen fixed at ten dollars a day, and expenses; but 
 with that chivalrous independence which ever char- 
 acterized the man though accepting the service lie 
 declined the pay. 
 
 Prom the 6th of March, it might be said that no 
 
 pe? 
 hai 
 of 
 tici 
 
JACK'S SCHEMING. 
 
 821 
 
 peace commission existed. Everything was in the 
 hands of General Canby, who was the representative 
 of the military power in Oregon. As if Jack had an- 
 ticipated something of this kind, and feared hostilities 
 would be recommenced before the end for which he 
 was now scheming could be accomplished, on the day 
 following Steele's final visit to the stronghold he sent 
 his sister Mary to Canby, to say that he accepted the 
 terms offered on the 3d of present protection and 
 support and removal to a distant country ; aski.ig 
 that a delegation of his people might be permitted to 
 accompany the government officers in search of a new 
 home while the remainder of the band waited under 
 the protection of the military. He likewise proposed 
 that his surrender should take place on Monday, 
 March 10th. To this proposition Canby assented, 
 informing Mary that Jack, and as many of his band 
 as were able to come, would be expected that evening, 
 or the next morning, and that wagons would be sent 
 to tha edtje of the lake to bring in the others on 
 ^Monday ; also that if Jack did not c(nne tlie matter 
 would be referred to the military. But Jack did not 
 come as expected on Thursday evening. Messengers 
 wore sent, instead, saying that the Modocs were 
 burying their dead, and could not yet leave the lava 
 beds, but would do so soon. 
 
 When Mary came the second time, she brought the 
 followinsj messatjes from Jack and Sconchin, in refer- 
 ence to the threat of Canby to send the troops unless 
 Jack and the head men came at once. Sconchin 
 said, "I have heard the talk tliey have sent. I don't 
 want to fight any more. I don't want to shoot any 
 more soldiers, and I don't want anv soldiers to shoot 
 my people. I have but a few men, and I don't want 
 to fight with more men than I have got. I didn't 
 think the peace connnission would get mad so quickly, 
 or the soldiers. The talk looks as if tliey were mad. 
 I want to live in peace. I don't want to go anywhere 
 to fight. I want to live in my own house, and I want 
 
522 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 to live in pea«e. I want to know what officer got 
 mad so quickly. There are only two head men of us, 
 and we didn't get mad ; we wanted to live in peace. 
 Do they want to come and shoot us again ? I don't 
 want to slioot anyone, and I don't want anyone to 
 shoot my men. I have thrown away my country, and 
 now I want to go away and hunt another. I thougl t 
 they were to come and take me away at once. I 
 wanted time to take my people, some ot' them are sick, 
 wouldn't be able to go away at once ; and I don't want 
 them to go to killing them again. I have got all my 
 people to say yes, that they are willing to go, and not 
 talk bad any more. I don't want this country any 
 more — I want a warmer country. I explained this 
 to my children, and they all say yes and sanction it. 
 I want to remain a little while. Some of my pe<jple 
 are sick and can't go, and then the military can go 
 with them." 
 
 Jack said: "I am very sad. I want peace quick, 
 or else let the soldiers come and make haste and fight. 
 I want to stay here a little while, so that my people 
 can get ready to go. I say yes to going to a wainicr 
 country; and this is tlio first time I have said yes. I 
 don't want my people shot. I don't want my men to 
 go with guns any more. I have quit forever. I have 
 buried the past, and don't want to be made answera- 
 ble for the past. I have heard that they wanted to 
 shoot me. That would be like shooting an old woman. 
 I want to talk good words onl}-. I don't want to 
 shoot or be shot. I don't want anyone to get mad as 
 quick as they did before. I want to live in peace. I 
 want to go and see my people on the reservation. My 
 mind is made up to say yes. I have a good heart, 
 and want no mistake made this time, to live with go»)d 
 heart and talk truth. I have no paper men, and can't 
 write on the papers. The papers called me batl, and 
 lied about me. If they don't lie to me I won't lie to 
 them. I want to give up shooting. I never have born 
 out snice I came on here. If they had come I would 
 
REMARKS OF CAI'TAIN JACK. 
 
 88S 
 
 liave sliot them. I never have seon any white men 
 except tliose who came here. I want Fairchikl and 
 Kiddle, and anyone else willing to come out. I want 
 to see my people at Yainax. I have thrown away 
 niy country, and unless I go I never exi)ect to see my 
 people again ; and then I want to go to town, and 
 then I will go away and never expect to return. I 
 want to see what they have to say My nnnd is made 
 up, and I have little else to say. They have got my 
 heart now, and they nmst look after it and do right. 
 I am nearly well and have a gt)od heart now. I ex- 
 l)ect Mr. Meacham is very sick and couldn't come. I 
 am nearlv well, but am afraid o'l account t)f the sol- 
 diers on the road. There are so many soldiers around. 
 There are sokhers on Lost river, on Clear lake, and 
 l^ernard's soldiers. Wouldn't they be afraid if they 
 were in the same situation ? I want to ,' ee their head 
 men who never have been here. I have heard of so 
 many soldiers connng I was afraiil. When they visited 
 me they laid down and slept and were not pestere<l. 
 I had a bad heart yesterday morning when ^Ir Steele 
 lift here, to thiidc that he would not come bade or 
 believe me. If I knew the new country I would go 
 out when he came in. I want to visit my peo[»le, 
 then the new country, and want the peace connnis- 
 sion to go with me and show it to me. ]. 
 wish to live like the white men. Let everything ba 
 wii)ed out, washed out, and let there be no nj'.rj 
 blood. I have got a bad heart about these warriors. 
 I Iiave got but a few men, and don't see how I can 
 give them up. Will they give up their peo])le who 
 nmrdercd my people while they were asleep? I niiver 
 asked for the })eo[)le who murdered my people. I 
 only talked that way. I can see how I could give 
 u[) my horse to be hanged, but I cannot see how I 
 could give up my men to be hanged. I could give 
 up my horse to be hanged and wouldn't cry a' out it ; 
 but if I gave up my men I would have to cry about 
 it. I want them all to have good hearts now. I 
 
524 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 have thrown away everything. There must be no 
 more bad talk. I will not. I have spoken forever. 
 I want soldiers all to go home. I have given up 
 now, and want no more fuss. I have said yes, and 
 thrown away my country. I want soldiers to go 
 away, so I will not be afraid. When I go to Yainax 
 I don't want to come back here, but want to go to 
 town, and then to the new country. I wanted to go 
 to a new country and not come back any more to see 
 my people; that is why I wanted to go to Yainax. 
 I want to see how many of my relations would go 
 with me. I feel bad for my people in the lava beds. 
 I would cry if I did not see my people at Yainax. 
 I don't know the new country, and they wouldn't 
 know where they were. I know no country but 
 Shasta and Pitt river. But I say yes, and consent 
 to everything and go away. I don't want to live here 
 any more, because I can't live here any more in 
 peace. I wish to go to the southern country and live 
 in peace. I want my people to stay here till I and 
 some of niy head men go and look at the new coun- 
 try'. I want Riddle and sojne others to go with me. 
 I want clothing and food for my men. I want it 
 
 given t.> them here, 
 am deceivin<' them. 
 
 I don't want them to think I 
 I want my people to be taken 
 
 care of while I am looking for the new country, 
 want to know where they can stay and eat wlien I 
 am gone. I want to stop with Fairchild. I want to 
 know if they got mad at me so quick because I could 
 not believe them at once. I could not come; I had 
 but two horses, and the Klamaths took my good one. 
 I have no saddle, and my horses have been ridden so 
 much they are not fit to ride. I am a chief; am 
 proud ; am ashamed to ride a poor horse. I under- 
 stand their tall. now. It seems now that I have been 
 with them, and talk;, 1 with them and seen them. I 
 talk with my mouth. They have paper men to write 
 down what I say. I want Fairchild to come to- 
 morrow to see me. Mary has brought back good 
 
PEACE PREFERRED. 
 
 fi25 
 
 news. I want to see them as bad as they want to 
 s«>e nic. I don't want Fairchild to be afraid to come 
 nut with Mary. I want and hope Mary will come 
 back with message and say yes, just as I have done." 
 Toby Riddle, who interprcitcd the messages sent by 
 Jack and Sconchin, and who saw through their sinis- 
 ter meaning warned Can by of treachery. And read 
 now, in the liglit of subsequent events, their inten- 
 tion is plain. Stripped of iteration and verbiage, the 
 messages, while pretending to be for peace, were cun- 
 ningly arranged to hide a deep-laid scheme. Scon- 
 cliin affected surprise that the commissioners were so 
 soon offended by the faithlessness of the Modoc lead- 
 ers, and inquired the name of the officer who was so 
 impatient. Jack wanted peace or war at once, but 
 preferred peace. He promised not to lie to the com- 
 missioners if the white men who were sent to him 
 would tell the truth, he of course to be the judge, 
 lie was tired of being confined to the lava beds by 
 soldiers on every side of him, and wanted liberty to 
 go to Yainax and to Yreka; after which he would 
 consent to look up a new country for his people, but 
 wished the principal military officers and the peace 
 commissioners to accompany him, while all his people 
 but those he should select to accompany him should be 
 allowed to remain in the lava beds, having first re- 
 ceived food and clothing to make them comfortable 
 (luring his absence. He did not like the demand 
 that he was told had been made for the surrender of 
 tl.o murderers, saying that he had never made any 
 su<h demand of the white men for killing his people; 
 and proved his magnanimity by the fact that Steele 
 and the intrepreter had slept unharmed in his camp. 
 He was surprised and angry that Steele had not 
 trusted him enough to return again, and wanted Fair- 
 cliild to come and see him. Though there were pro- 
 fuse professions of a desire for peace, there was little 
 in Jack's me3sage to indicate an}^ degree of humility. 
 On tlie contrary, the terms, if complied with, would 
 
SOME INDIAN EPISODfiS. 
 
 
 leave him master of the situation — the sohlicrs with- 
 drawn, his people clothod and fed, and allowed to 
 remain on Lost river, while lie went forth free. 
 
 In spite of these signifirant demands of tin* ^fodoc 
 leaders, Canhy, who had been forced into a position 
 where he felt that he must vindicate the j)ower and 
 the ri}^hteou8ncs8 of the government, as well as his 
 own ability as a representative of both, proceeded 
 with the preparations for receiving the Alodocs on 
 the 10th. Tents were put up to shelter them, with 
 hay for beds, new blankets, and plenty of food and 
 firewood, besides many articles of convenience and 
 even of luxury for the leaders. Four wagons, under 
 the char<je of Steele and a te^amster named David 
 Horn were dispatched to the place agreed upon, at 
 Point of Rocks on lower Klamath lake, where they 
 expected to find Jack and his party. After waiting 
 for several hours and no Modocs appearing, Steele 
 returned to Fairchild's and reported the failure of 
 the expedition. 
 
 After this breach of faith, Meacham telegraphed 
 the connnissioner of Indian aft'airs at Waslihiinton 
 that every honorable means to secure peace had be( n 
 exhausted; that the Modocs broke every promise, 
 and offered terms that were entirely inadmissil)l(!; 
 that messengers were unwilling to return to their 
 camp; and intimated that he C(m8idered the mission 
 of peace as closed, but awaited orders. He received 
 from the Secretary of the Interior an order to submit 
 his telegrams thereafter to General Canby for approval, 
 and in all proceedhigs to be governed by his advice 
 until further directed by the department. 
 
 In the meantime Canby had telegraphed that 
 although the Modocs had failed to keep their apjioint- 
 ment, and some movement of the troops might hv 
 necessar}% simply to keep them under close observa- 
 tion ; he did not regard this last action as decisive, 
 and should spare no efforts to bring about the result 
 desired. With this the secretary was better pleased, 
 
FEARS OP THE FARMERS. 
 
 827 
 
 id 
 
 nnrl in a note to the Secretary of War commented on it 
 warmly in contrast with tlie expressions of the chair- 
 mau of the peace commission. Sherman, liowever, 
 was not HO san«j;uine. lie rei)Hed to Canhv's tcleirram 
 tluit it was manifestly (losircd hy all in authority that 
 the peace measures should surcoed and counselled 
 patience. "But shouM these peaceful measures fail, 
 and shcmld the Modocs presume too far <»n the for- 
 bearance of th(! ijovernment and a<jain res(»i't to de- 
 ceit and treachery, I trust you will make such use; of 
 the military force that no other Indian trihe will 
 imitate their example, and that no reservation for 
 them will be necessary except graves among their 
 chosen lava Vxds " 
 
 At this tlm(.^ Meacham would willingly liave seen 
 the peace commission dissolved, and more than once 
 liad signified his readiness to make his final report at 
 Washington. The peace commission was extremely 
 unpopular in his own state, and was likely to ruin liis 
 cliances for any future i)olitieal prefernu'ut. Subser- 
 vient as it had been from the first to the advice of the 
 military, by order of the government it occupied a 
 position antagonistic to i)eace, os it did, by tlie terms 
 offcired by the military, to the authorities of Or(>gon 
 and the sense of the people. All the other connnls- 
 sioners had resigned and gone honu;. The delavs 
 caused by the connnission m the operations of tlie 
 military forces were liki'ly to defeat the object for 
 which tliey were assembled, as with the approach of 
 spring the Modocs would escape into the mountains, 
 where no number of troops could hope to cajiture 
 them, and whence they could descend i»i small parties 
 to steal and nmrder at will. The stock-raisers in tlic 
 vicinity of the lava beds complained that their cattle 
 and sheep were lassoed not only by the Indians, who 
 killed all they needed, but by the army teamsters and 
 soldiers also, who took fresh meat when they desired, 
 thinking they might as well have it as the Indians. 
 The time was at hand for putting in crops, but no 
 
SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 t 
 
 fanner in that rej^ion would venture to do any thing 
 on liis land until the Modoc difticulty should be set- 
 tled. Fears were entertained that the Piutes, Pitt 
 Rivers, and Snakes, aggregating two or three thou- 
 sand warriors, would be induced by Jack's success in 
 resisthig the United States authorities to commence 
 hostilities, and combine with him in a war Avhich 
 might become general. Already that portion of tlie 
 Nez Perces who had always been disaffected toward 
 the treaty of 1855 were making trouble in the Wal- 
 lowwa valley, on the eastern border of the state. No 
 formal treaty had ever been made between the gov- 
 ernment and the Indians subdued by General Crook's 
 operations a few years previous, who now openly re- 
 joiced over the rumors that Captain Jack still defied 
 the power of the soldiers who had conquered them, 
 and the inhabitants were already calling for protection 
 by petitions to the governor. That this threatening 
 attitude of the Indians was directly due to the influ- 
 ence of the peace connnission all were aware; and 
 hence arose the opposition of those not inunediately 
 interested in having the Modocs punished for crimes 
 committed by them. Of the importance of these 
 matters to his state Meacham was fully cognizant; 
 and having become convinced that no satisfactory 
 terms could be made with the Modocs, he was quite 
 willing the whole problem should be left with tlie 
 military for solution. Bat he was not permitted to 
 dispose of the enterprise into which he had brought 
 himself and others in that way. Instead of that, 
 Odeneal, who declined, and then Dyar, was appointc d 
 on the commission in the pla'-e made vacant by tlio 
 resignation of Case, and Jesse Applegate's place was 
 filled by E. Thomas, a method ist clergyman of Peta- 
 luma, he being the choice of Canby. Thus the com- 
 mission was reorganized. 
 
 The day after Jack's failure to keep his word with 
 the commissioners, a reconnoissance of the lava beds 
 
SCONCHIN'S RELUCTANCE. 
 
 was ordered by a cavalry company under Colonel 
 Biddle, but nothing was seen of the Modocs. Ac- 
 cording to a previously expressed desire of Jack's, a 
 messenger was sent to Yainax to invite Chief Sconchin 
 and sub-chief Charley Riddle to visit him, an invita- 
 tion seconded by the commissioners. After several 
 days of deliberation, Sconchin reluctantly consented, 
 fooling convinced beforehand how useless would be 
 his intervention. At starting he said, "Let me once 
 look into their eyes, and I will know what to report." 
 Thereupon he went, and looked into the eyes of Jack 
 and his brother, and returning assured the commis- 
 sioners to hope for nothing, that all future negotia- 
 tions would be unavailing. There could be but one 
 reason why the outlaws wished to see him, which 
 would be an appeal to him for that assistance which 
 iiad already often been refused to the messengers sent 
 to Yainax. That communication was kept up between 
 tlie loyal and the rebel Modocs there was plenty of 
 evidence; indeed, the messenger sent to bring in 
 Sconchin found Long Jim, one of the warriors under 
 indictment, at Yainax. 
 
 On the 1 3th Biddle, while reconnoitering in the vi- 
 cinity of the lava beds, captured thirty-four horses, 
 and n)i<;lit have killed a number of savayjos had not 
 his orders forbidden it. The capture of the horses, 
 though an act of hostility not entirely consonant with 
 pt'uce measures, was thought necessary to lessen the 
 chances of escape from the lava beds before a surren- 
 der could be effected. In the meantime negotiations 
 had been carried on by means of the Indian women 
 living about the settlements, one of whom after visit- 
 ing the stronghold brought word that Jack wished for 
 a conference, but was afraid to couie out of the lava 
 hods lest Canby should ni»t be able to control his sol- 
 diers, in proof of which he mentioned the taking of 
 his horses. Being afraid to come out, he wished 
 Fairchild and Meacham to come to him in his strong- 
 hold. 
 
 Cal Int. Poc. 84 
 
 
Ill 
 
 530 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 About the middle of March, Canby and the peace 
 commission removed headquarters to Van Brimmer's, 
 and the troops now numbering between 500 and 600, 
 were drawn closer to the lava beds. 
 
 No material change took place in the attitude of 
 affairs for ten or twelve days. The material of war 
 was slowly brought nearer to Jack's stronghold to 
 convince him of the futility of all attempts at escape. 
 If Jack was waiting to gain time, when the snow be- 
 ing off the mountains the Snakes could come to his 
 assistance, he was in apparent danger of being frus- 
 trated, though that he occasionally gained some re- 
 cruits from renegades of other bands was credited. 
 
 On the 1 9th Meacham wrote to the commissioner 
 of Indian affairs at Washingttjn, that he had not en- 
 tirely abandoned hopes of success; even that he was 
 satisfied, had no outside treachery intervened, pea( o 
 would have been accomplished before this. The Mo- 
 docs, he said, had been informed that the authorities 
 of Oresron demanded the warriors indicted : also that 
 Jack would surrender them, but dared not. In tlils 
 letter he advocated a meeting on Jack's terms ; and 
 said if left to him he should have visited Jack in IJio 
 lava beds ; and that he was ready to do so at that 
 time, but was restrained by Canby. 
 
 It did not appear, however, that anything had oc- 
 curred that should have changed his mind since he 
 had written that the Modocs meant treachery. That 
 he did not at this time enjoy the confiilenoe of t]\o 
 departments is placed beyond doubt by a telegram 
 from Sherman to Canby, authorizing him to remox i' 
 from the commission any member he thought unfit, 
 and devolving upon him the entire management of 
 the Modoc question. 
 
 Canby did not think it necessary to remove 
 Meacham, the only member of the connnission then 
 on the ground, particularly as he was clothed with 
 supreme power. But even Canby could not make .ill 
 his reports agree, for on one day he thought that t\\o 
 
FURTHER PROTESTATIONS. 
 
 m 
 
 Modocs would readily consent to go to Yainax, should 
 tliat be thought best, and the next was obliged to re- 
 }H)rt that they were not in a disposition favorable to 
 any arrangement; they had sent one of their women in- 
 to camp to say that at the last moment their hearts 
 failed them, and they could not make up their minds 
 to go to a new country. Time, the general said, was 
 becoming of great importance, as the melting of the 
 s low would soon enable the Indians to live in the 
 mountains, but he hoped by a system of gradual com- 
 pression, and an exhibition of the force to be used 
 ii'j;ainst them, to satisfy them of the hopelessness ot 
 further resistance, and give the peace party sufficient 
 .strength to control the band. On the 22d generals 
 Canby and Gillem made a reconnoissance with a cavalry 
 company, during which an accidental mooting was 
 liad with Captain Jack and a party of his warriors. 
 A conference between the generals and Jack and 
 Sconchin was arranged; but instead of Sconchin, Jack 
 brouijht Scarface, the acknowledi;ed war chief. Not).- 
 iiig could be elicited from Jack but protestations that 
 lie did not want to fight, nor to be shut up in the lava 
 beds, but would go back to Lost river. The gradual 
 compression went on; headquarters were once more 
 removed to the foot of the high bluff, witliin throe 
 miles of the stronghold ; while three other camps woie 
 established within distances varying from four to 
 tliirtoen miles. 
 
 At length on the 24th the new commissioners, 
 Tlionias and Dyar, arrived at headquarters; and also 
 Cajitaln (). C. Applogato, with five reservation Mo- 
 does who had been sent for by General Caid)v to as- 
 sist if possible in the peace negotiati(ms. On tlie 'JHth 
 Oenoral Gillem and Commissioner Thomas had an 
 interview with Bojjjus Charley who had bi'on itassinir 
 frcelv between the stronghold and the camn of tie 
 connnissionors for several weeks. In this interview 
 it was once niore agreed that the Modocs sjiould come 
 out the following day ; but according to their usual 
 
 I U i\ 
 
 k 
 
 
 
532 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 
 tactics a delegation consisting of Bogus Cliarkv, 
 ^laiy, another Indian woman named Ellen, and Bos- 
 ton Charley, was sent in their place with a message 
 to the commissioners and Canby of a private nature. 
 
 The impression given out at the several interviews 
 held up to this time was that there were two pai-tics 
 among the Modocs, a war party and a peace party, 
 and that Jack was of the peace party, while Sconchin, 
 his rival, was striving for the chi^'ftainship by at- 
 tempting to lead the majority or war party. That 
 this was simply a device to deceive the connnissioners 
 as to their real strength and purpose was afterward 
 made apparent ; but at the time it succeeded, as the 
 telegrams of Canby show. After the meeting of the 
 'J 2nd he said; "The result confirmed the impression 
 l)reviously reported, that the war faction is still pro- 
 dominant. Captain Jack's demeanor was that of a 
 man under duress, and afraid to exhibit his real feil- 
 iiigs. Important questions were evaded or not an- 
 swered at all." "^his created a feeling of compassion 
 toward Jack in the mind of the general who was 
 conducting the negotiations, and led him to believe 
 more in the final success of the peace commission, 
 ^leacham, feeling compelled to follow the lead given, 
 as ordered by Delano, after the late unsatisfactory 
 meetings, again wrote to the commissioner of Indian 
 artulis that the principal impediment to the surrender 
 of the Indians was the fear that the offending wamors 
 would be punished, and that this fear was willfully 
 increased by bad white men, who desired to have the 
 war prolonged from mercenary motives. 
 
 This accusation, which gained most credence at the 
 greatest distance from the seat of war, was easy of 
 refutation, since the only men having the opportunity 
 at first to connnunicate with the Indians were those 
 sent by the connnissioners, and another class who 
 lived upon terms of equality with !Modoc women, and 
 who could have little of anything to gain by the con- 
 tinuance of hostilities, b it whose profits had formerly 
 
CAUSE OF FEAR. 
 
 6o3 
 
 floponded greatly upon the trade of the very Indians 
 now rendered unable to carry on commerce by reason 
 of the war. It was m the power of the military at 
 any time to have prevented the communication exist- 
 ing between these women, who picked up all sorts of 
 stories in their intercourse with low white men and the 
 Indians in the lava beds, had they chosen, simply by 
 sending them to their people with orders to remain 
 there until Jack surrendered. That this was not done 
 was a miUtary blunder. On the other hand, the peace 
 oounnission, which was military in its feelings, being 
 desirous of establishing the character of the govern- 
 ment for magnaminity, encouraged the Modocs while 
 still avoiding hostility to send small parties almost 
 <laily to headquarters, where they could observe all 
 that was going on, and where they were sure to hear 
 from those who were most likel}' to seek their society 
 auvthinij and evervthing. These blunders were the 
 direct cause of the fear which, if any, possessed tlie 
 Indians, which fear was therefore chargeable to those 
 conducting tlie peace commission, and not to any 
 other persons. Above all, the authorities at Wash- 
 ington, who had sot their hearts upon the success of 
 a doubtful experiment, by insisting upon pacific meas- 
 ures when these measures had been persistently re- 
 jected by armed savages, possessed of considerable 
 kniAvledgc of the government, were responsible for 
 the present condition of aftairs. 
 
 So far was this infatuatiisu rnrrird, that on receiv- 
 ing Canby's telegram saying that Jack still wished to 
 return to Lost river, Delano instructed the general 
 not to require that any of the propositions heretofore 
 made should be accepted, but if the Modocs insisted 
 on not going elsewhere, to allow them a reservation on 
 Lost river; and if they were opposed to the surrender 
 of the offending warriors, not to insist upon that, but 
 to include them also in the amnesty. 
 
 From the 26th to the 1st of April nothing occurred 
 
 i.iii 
 
634 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 of importance at headquarters, though news was 
 brought from Langell valley that Hooker Jim and a 
 party of Modocs had shown themselves near Alkali 
 lake and driven ofF a large band of horses; also that 
 on the night of the 24th they were at Yainax where 
 they talked until moniing, trying to persuade the res- 
 ervation Modocs and Klamaths to join Jack, telling 
 them that five tribes had promised to take the war 
 path with him as soon as he left the lava beds, and 
 that unless they united with the war confederacy they 
 would not be safe. They sent their women to a man 
 named Jordan, who lived with an Indian woman, to 
 buy powder, but failed to obtain any. This move- 
 ment of the Modocs greatly alarmed both the white 
 men and Indians in Sprague River valley ; and as the 
 conduct of the Snakes in Goose Lake valley was 
 alarming, a petition was presented to the governor of 
 Oregon for protection. 
 
 The raid of the Modocs into Langell valle}", and 
 their threats to the reservation Indians, somewhat 
 alarmed the families at the Klamath agency, who 
 were almost entirely unprotected, Dyar being absent 
 on the business of the peace commission, and the other 
 white men assisting the Indians with their farms on 
 diflferent parts of the reservation. Knowing that the 
 Modocs might in one night make a descent on the 
 agency, Captain Pollock, in command at the fort, ad- 
 vised the temporary removal of the families to the 
 post, and made a requisition on General Gillem for a 
 few men to guard the government property on the 
 reservation, which requisition was not honored on ac- 
 count of the need of all the troops about the lava beds. 
 
 The messenger who carried the despatch at his own 
 instance circulated the rumor in Linkviile that the 
 Klamaths had joined the Modocs, the families at the 
 agency had taken refuge at the fort, and the country 
 was in a state of alarm. Happily Captain Applegato 
 chanced to be at Linkviile, on his return from tlie 
 headquarters of the peace commission with his Modoc 
 
MOVEMENTS OF THE TROOPS. 
 
 delegation from Yainax, and was able to quiet the 
 apprehensions occasioned by this unauthorized allega- 
 tion against the Klaniaths. The people on tlie reser- 
 vation were at no time afraid of the Klamaths, although 
 tliey were just then under apprehensions in regard to 
 tlio hostile Modocs. The Indians on the reservation 
 vere fearful of an attack. "Jack had long before the 
 war told old Sconchinand other Yainax Indians," says 
 Applegate, "tliat in case of a war with the whites he 
 would destroy Yainax, and kill the Indians tliere if 
 they did not join him. Old Sconchin told me this 
 oaily in the war, and said if Jack's band came to 
 Yainax on a raid, his men would die fighting ft)r the 
 place and their white friends. The Modocs did scout 
 in the vicinity of Yainax, and it is altogether probable 
 tliat had we not been constantly on the alert a descent 
 would have been made on us during the first months 
 of the war." 
 
 On the Slst of March a movement by the troops in 
 f )rcc was made, three hundred marching to the upper 
 end of Lower Klamath lake, and thence on the 1st of 
 April to Tule lake and the lava beds. On the 2d the 
 Modocs siijnified their willingness to confer with the 
 coinnnssioners at a point midway between headquar- 
 ters and the stronghold. Jack reiterated his terms, 
 to be allowed to have Lost river, with a general am- 
 nesty, and to have the troops all taken away. The 
 most that was accomplished was to obtain consent to 
 erect a council tent, the weather being stormy and 
 coltl, at a place on the lava beds about a mile and a 
 quarter from tlie camp of the connnissioners, where 
 future nesiotiations could be carried on. On tlie 4th 
 a request was made by Jack that Meacham, Rosebo- 
 rougji and Fairchild should meet him with a few of his 
 men at the council tent. They went, accompanied by 
 Riddle and his wife Toby as interpreters. Jack was 
 accompanied by six warriors and the women of his 
 own family. 
 
 Colonel Mason had been ordered to move his com- 
 
 I 
 
 "I- 
 I'l 
 
 
SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 li 
 
 pany to camp two miles from the stronghold on the 
 east side, and the movement seemed to have had some 
 effect in bringing^ about the interview. The council 
 was opened by Roseborough, who explained to the 
 Indians their position. Jack and Sconchin both re- 
 plied that they wanted the Lost river country, and 
 reiterated their former demands. Roseborough replied 
 that it was useless talking about Lost river, because 
 they had sold it, and could not have it back; that 
 blood had been spilled tliere, and the Modocs would 
 not be able to live there in peace. Jack replied 
 that his young men had done wrong in spilling the 
 blood of innocent men, but declared that had no set- 
 tler been in the fight of the 29th of November, none 
 would have been killed. 
 
 He then recited his grievances while on the reserva- 
 tion. But when shown by the commissioners that ho 
 could not have his demand for the Lost river country 
 complied with, or if complied with that he could not 
 enjoy peace there after what had happened, he said 
 that if he could not have that he would say no more 
 about it, but would accept a small reservation in Cali- 
 fornia, including Willow, Cottonwood, and Hot creeks, 
 with the lava beds. This, too, was refused as imprac- 
 ticable. 
 
 When Meacham addressed the Indians, they lis- 
 tened with indifference. Tne council lasted for five 
 hours, when it was sn.ddenly terminated by the Ind- 
 ians, who retired, saying if they changed their mind 
 in the matter, they would report next day. 
 
 On the following morning Boston Charley came to 
 the commissioners' camp and wished to see Rosebo- 
 rough, to whom he said that Jack desired another in- 
 terview, when Roseborough replied that he did not 
 wish to talk any more with Jack until he had ma«lo 
 up his mind what he would do. Boston then remarkeil 
 that the Indians might all come in the next day, 
 which led Roseborough to think they really contem- 
 plated surrender. A message was immediately sent 
 
SUSPICIONS AROUSED. 
 
 m 
 
 by Toby Riddle conveying a proposition to Jack to 
 surrender with any others who might elect to do so. 
 The proposition was not only declined, but in such a 
 manner that on her return Toby assured the commis- 
 sioners and Canby that it would be no longer safe for 
 tlieni to meet the Modocs in council. Tht; informa- 
 tion was lightly treated by the generals, and by Thomas 
 — the former feeling behind them the power of the 
 federal government, the latter trusting in the power 
 of the almighty — but was regarded as of more con- 
 sequence by Meacham and Dyar, who better under- 
 stood the characters of the informer and of the Indians 
 informed against. Through the indiscretion of Thomas, 
 the Modocs were made aware that their contemplated 
 plan of assassination was understood, a knowledge 
 which undoubtedly hastened its consummation. 
 
 On the morning of the 8th Jack sent a messenger 
 to the commissioners, requesting a conference at the 
 council-tent, and a proposition to meet them with 
 only six unarmed men. But the signal officer at the 
 station overlooking the lava beds reporting six Indians 
 at the council-tent and twenty more in the rocks be- 
 hind them, all armed, the invitation was not accepted, 
 and no meeting was had. Jack understood from this 
 rejection of his overtures that he was suspected, and 
 tliat whatever he did must be done quickly. He had 
 jj^ained by his baffling course the time needed, so 
 that should he be compelled to leave the lava beds he 
 could escape, and join or be joined by the Snakes on 
 tlie east. This he intended to do, first destroying 
 the army generals and the peace commission, by 
 wliich he expected to throw the troops into temporary 
 confusion, and during the confusion to carry out his 
 plans. 
 
 Therefore on the morning of the 10th a delegation 
 from Jack's camp consisting of Boston Charley, 
 Hooker Jim, William, or Whim as he was called, and 
 Tfiive visited the commissioners at headquarters about 
 three miles from the stronghold, and brought a propo- 
 
638 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 a 
 
 sition from Jack that generals Canby and Gilleni, 
 with the peace comuiissioners, should meet the Mo- 
 docs in conference. The interpreters were sunt out 
 to learn Jack's wishes, and also to convey to him 
 protest from the commissioners, whioli was in writinjj;, 
 and which Riddle read to Jack, containing the terms 
 before offered — a general amnesty and a new reserva- 
 tion in a warmer climate. 
 
 It was evident to Riddle, from the manner of the 
 Modocs, that they were not acting in good faith. 
 Jack threw the paper sent him upon the ground, 
 saying he had no use for it; he was not a white man, 
 and could not read. He also insisted upon the com- 
 missioners coming a mile beyond the council-tent, 
 saying he would go no farther to meet them. Light 
 remarks concerning the conmiissioners were made in 
 the hearing of Riddle by others of the Modocs. 
 They had also been killing and were drying heef, and 
 had thrown up breastworks of stcme to strengthen 
 certain points ; all of which were to the interpreters 
 hidications that they were preparing for war rather 
 than for peace. 
 
 After a good deal of negotiating, Riddle advising 
 against any meeting, it was finally agreed — Thomas 
 being chairman in the temporary absence of Meacham 
 — that the conference should be held between Canby 
 and the commissioners on one side, and Jack with five 
 men on the other, all to go unarmed, and to meet at 
 the place selected by Jack, an extensive basin sur- 
 rounded by rocks, at eleven o'clock on the forenoon 
 of the 11th. After this decision Riddle called on 
 Canby and advised him to send twenty-five or tliirty 
 men to secrete themselves in the rocks near tlie 
 council ground, as a safeguard against any treacher- 
 ous movement on the part of the Modocs. To this 
 proposal the general replied that it would be an insult 
 to Captain Jack to which he could not consent; and 
 that besides, the discovery of such a movement by 
 the Modocs would probably lead to hostilities, and be 
 
CANDY'S CONFIDENCE. 
 
 8S9 
 
 unwise. But aside from this it was a silly sujjfsjfos- 
 tion. If Jack's men were hidden behind the 1(m ks 
 the soldiers of course would have been discovend; 
 if they were not there the ])resonce of tiie soldiers 
 waH unnecessary. Again, l^oston Charity came 
 into Gillem's ramp on the evtnin*^ of tlie lOtli, and 
 remained there until the connnissioners left to iro to 
 tlie council tent next morning, seeing and reporting 
 evcrvthiiii;. 
 
 When Meacham heard of the arrangement, he re- 
 monstrated against going into the hole in the rocks 
 Jack had designated, and indeed against any meeting 
 at all ; but he finally yielded to the wishes of Canby 
 and Thomas, when Jack consented to change tlie 
 })lace of meeting to the council-tent, which he did 
 on the morning of the 11th. 
 
 Everything being now arranged so far as it could 
 bo f)r what all wished might be a conclusive confer- 
 ence, Riddle once more warned the commissioners 
 tliat in his belief the Modocs meant to kill them at 
 this meeting, and Toby said the same. But Caidjy 
 was confident that they dare not attack him with 
 Mason's force where it could be put into the strong- 
 hold before the Indians could reach it; that the road 
 to the council-tent had been watched from the signal 
 station all the morning, and that only the number of 
 I'ldians agreed upon were on the ground, and they 
 apparently unarmed. With simple and refreshing 
 faith Thomas said, "There is no danger; let us put 
 our trust in God ; surely he will not let harm come 
 to mon engaged in so good a work." 
 
 "Trust God, if you want to," growled Riddle, 
 " but I tell you don't trust them Indians." Indeed, 
 so earnest was Riddle that it should be well under- 
 stood that it was all against his judgment, that he 
 requested Canby and all the commissioners to accom- 
 pany him to the tent of Gillem, who was ill, that he 
 inicrht make a formal protest in the presence of that 
 officer, plainly stating that he consented to make one 
 
 HJ„|1, 
 
 :i:,ii-; 
 
S40 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES, 
 
 <»f the party rather than lay hhnself open to the 
 charge of cowardice, and the declaration was there 
 made. Then Riddle proposed that if the meeting; 
 must take place, the party should carry concealed 
 arnjs. To this Canby and Thomas objected, ileter- 
 niined on keeping faith with the Indians, though so 
 strongly assured of their treacherous intent. Neither 
 Meacham nor Dyar entertained the same scruples 
 regarding the savages, nor the same trust in the jus- 
 tice of heaven and the protecting arm of providence ; 
 though opposed to the meeting, like Riddle they 
 would go rather than be called cowards, or charged 
 with deserting Canby and Thomas. Accordingly 
 Meacham and Dyar concealed each a small pistol 
 upon his person to be used in case of emergency. 
 
 At the time appointed the party set out for the 
 council-tent. There were, besides the connnissioners, 
 Canby, the interpreter Riddle, and Toby. Mea- 
 cham and Dyar took their horses to ride, though the 
 nature of the ground made horseback travel slow. 
 Toby also rode, all the others walked. On arriving 
 at tlie ground, they found Jack awaiting them with the 
 number of followers agreed upon ; but these with the 
 addition of Bogus Charley and Boston Charley, who 
 had spent the night at GUlem's camp and accompa- 
 nied the commissioners to the rendezvous, gave Jack 
 just twice as many as were on the other side, exclu- 
 sive of the two interpreters. 
 
 Jack was indeed a cunning fellow, and nowhere 
 was his shrewdness ever more craftily displayed than 
 in this instance, where by making two of his confed- 
 erates accompany the intended victims, he could not 
 be accused by them of bringing more than the num- 
 ber agreed upon. 
 
 The commissioners* party joined the Indians, who 
 were sitting in a semicircular group about a campfirc 
 near the tent. Canby offered them cigars, which they 
 smoked for a little while. The council was then 
 opened by the general, who spoke in a kind and fatli- 
 
THE FATAL MEETIN'O. 
 
 Ml 
 
 erly way, saying ho had for many years hcen ac- 
 quainted with Indians, and thought he underatood 
 them; tliat he had come to tliis meeting to talk in a 
 friendly manner to them, and conclude upon a peace ; 
 and that whatever he promised them that day, they 
 might be sure they would receive. 
 
 Meacham followed with allusions to his office as a 
 commissioner sent by the government to make jxjace, 
 and take the Modocs away from a place where blood 
 liad been shed, to a new and happier home, where 
 they would be provided with a comfortable support. 
 Thomas made some similar remarks. Jack then 
 spoke, saying he did not wish to quit the country ho 
 was in ; that it was the only country known to him. 
 }[o had given up Lost river and he wanted Cotton- 
 wood and Willow creeks instead. He wanted the 
 soldiers taken away, and wanted to be left in posses- 
 sion of the lava beds It was soon evident that no- 
 thing would be gained by the conference. 
 
 Meanwhile the air began to thicken with treacliery. 
 As the savages manifested uneasiness on seeing a 
 white man not of the party approaching the place 
 along the trail, Dyar mounted his horse and riding forth 
 turned back the intruder, that the Indians might not 
 suspect duplicity. When he returned he did not rejoin 
 the circle, but threw himself on the ground at a little 
 distance from it, still holding his horse by the bridle. 
 
 Mcacham's horse had been standing loose; but as 
 tlie conference drew toward a close, Meacham secured 
 tlie animal, still continuing his part in the discussion, 
 tlie others remaining seated or reclining on the ground. 
 In the midst of Meacham's remarks Sconchin threw 
 ill some disrespectful words in his own tongue which 
 the commissioners did not understand. Hooker Jim 
 tlicn arose, and going to Meacham's horse took the 
 overcoat from the horn of the saddle and put it on. 
 Then with mocking gestures he strutted back and 
 forth saying iu English, "Don't I look like old man 
 Meacham?" 
 
 ';oii:< 
 
548 
 
 SOME TVDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 ■■ I 
 
 Every one present understood fully the significance 
 of the affront Treachery was rapidly unfolding 
 into death. None durst show alarm; and though 
 each was anxious to catch the eye of the others, none 
 must indulge in a significant glance, lest it should be 
 made the signal for what all felt was impending. 
 True, no guns were visible, but revolvers could bo 
 plainly seen beneath the raiment of the savages. 
 
 Calmly the general rose from his seat, again refer- 
 ring to his early acquaintance with different tribes o'' 
 Indians, and pleasantly related that one tribe had 
 elected him chief, and given him a name signifying 
 " Indian's friend ;" and another had made hun cliief, 
 and given the name of the "tall man;" that he had 
 never deceived them, but had always dealt fairly with 
 them ; that he was there that day by order of the 
 president of the United States; that he had no au- 
 thority to remove the troops, who were there by tlio 
 president's order, and also to see that everything was 
 done that was rigl\t, by both Indians and settlers. 
 
 Sconchin replied with the demand tliat they sliould 
 be given the Willow Creek or Hot Creek countrv, 
 and that the troops should all be taken away. Wliilc 
 his speech was being interpreted, Jack arose and 
 walked around behind Dyar's horse. At the same 
 time two Indians, carrying several guns each, sudden- 
 ly appeared, as if arising out of the gn)und. 
 Jack returned to a position in the circle opposite to 
 Canby, and as Meacham demanded, " Wliat does that 
 moan ? " Jack gave the word in his own lansjcuaijjo, 
 which meant "all ready," and drawing a revolvd* 
 from his bosom fired at Canby who was within a few 
 feet of him. 
 
 When the Indians carrying guns first came in sight. 
 all but Toby Rid<lle had sprung to tlieir feet. Toby 
 lay flat on the ground. Simultaneously with Jack s 
 attack on Canby, Sconchin fired on Meacham, and 
 Boston Charley on Thomas. 
 
 At the first motion of Jack to fire, Dyar, who was a 
 
CULMINATED SAVAGERY. 
 
 643 
 
 very tall man, and had an advantage of a few feet in 
 distance, started to run, pursued by Hooker Jim. 
 Findinj^ Viimseif close pressed, when he had gone 150 
 yards, he turned and fired witli his pistol, which 
 ciipcked the advance of the enerny. By repeating 
 this manoeuvre se/eral times he escaped to the picket 
 line. Kiddle also escaped by runnintj, though ho was 
 pursued by Shacknasty Jim, assisted by Branclio, who 
 with Scarface, Steamboat Frank, and Sloluck, had 
 been r-oncealed in the rocks near the council-tjround. 
 Toby escaped with only a blow given her by one of 
 the Indians who coveted her horse ; Ju ck interfer- 
 ing, she was permitted to follow lier husband. 
 
 It was but a few moments after Jack had uttered 
 liis ''all ready," when General Canby lay stripped 
 naked upon tlie ground with a bullet hole through 
 his head. A short di.stance from him was Thomas, 
 ill so d(!ad, and nearly naked. Near the clergyman 
 lay Meacham, stripped, and with five bullet wounds — 
 in the ftice, the left hand, the right wrist, the lobe of 
 one ear, and the side of the head, and a knife-cut on 
 tlie other side of the head. With all these injuries, 
 liowever, he was not dead, and revived half an hour 
 later when the troops reached the spot. Can any 
 one tell why, what is so freciuently the case, that the 
 two men who trusted in the Lord perished, while 
 t'.iosc who did not were saved? 
 
 Some would say tl;:<t tliese chivalrous persims 
 slioiild have exercised better judgment, and not have 
 (U'penuled on God to work a miracle to save men from 
 (h'struction, who, v'hiM; fairlv warned of their danixcr 
 (leliherately walk into it. Even the ph-a ofdutv does 
 not here obtain, for there was no oblii^ation restinji 
 on them to risk their lives; no principle involved in 
 it. no important issue turning upon it. It made no 
 whit difference to any (me whether or not those sav- 
 aj^i's were seen on that particular day, by those par- 
 ticular persons, and in that particular way. The last 
 telt.'grani from Canby on the subject, dated April 
 
 Jl 
 
544 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 12tli, contained those words ; "In my judgment per- 
 manent poac y caiHiot be secared if they are allowed to 
 remain in this innnediate neighborhood. The Modo( s 
 are now sensible that they cannot live in peace on 
 Lost river, and have abandoned their claim to it, but 
 wish to be left hi the lava beds. This means license 
 to plunder, and a stronghold to retreat to, and was 
 refused. Their last proposition is to come in and have 
 the opportunity of lookhig for a new home not far 
 away, and, if they are sincere in this, the trouble will 
 soon be ended ; but there has been so much vacilla- 
 tion and duplicity in their talks that I have hesitated 
 about reporting until simie definite result was at- 
 tained. All the movements of the troops have been 
 made deliberately and cautiously, so as to avoid col- 
 lision and to impress the Indians that we have no un- 
 friendly intent ; thus far we have succeeded very W(3ll, 
 but their conduct has given so much reason to appre- 
 hend that they were only trying to gain time, that I 
 have organized a party of scouts to operate with the 
 troops if they should go to the mountains or renew 
 hostilities." 
 
 Before General Canby had left camp at headquar- 
 ters he requested General Gillem, should anythiuLf 
 ha})pen to confirm him in his suspicions of the treach- 
 erous designs of the !Modt)cs, to send Doctor Cabaniss 
 to notify him. Soon after the commissioners reach<'<l 
 the council-tent, an Indian approached the jdcket-liiu' 
 about Colonel ^Mason's canjp, which was located at 
 Hospital Rock, about two miles east of tlu; stronghold, 
 carrviuij a white flaj;. Lieutenant Sherwooil was 
 sent to meet him. He soon returned and re|H»rtr(l 
 that three !Modocs wished to have a talk with the 
 conuuander of the post. Sherwood was then sent to 
 inform the Indians that if they wished to sec the 
 colonel tlKy niust ct»me inside the picket-lhie. Liiu- 
 tenant Boyle of the same regiment, who happened ti» 
 be present, asked permission to accomi)any Sherwood, 
 and the two officers a«rain went out to meet the lla' 
 
INDIAN TREACHERY. 
 
 546 
 
 r)f truce, which was lialf a mile outside the lino of 
 pickets. Just before tluy came to it tliey wore met 
 hy one of the Indians, wlio gave his name asWooley- 
 liaired Jake, and tlie names of his Ci»m})anions as 
 Comstock Dave, and Steamboat Frank. He then 
 in(juirod if Lieutenant Boyle was the connnanding of- 
 ficer, and on being told that he was not, invited tlie 
 ofHcers to go on to where tlie flag-bearer was in wait- 
 ing. The manner of the Indians seemhig to indicate 
 tivachery, the two officers being unarmed, declined, 
 Imt aLireed to talk with them if tliev W()uld come to 
 tlu! jticki't-post. This the Indians refused, and Sher- 
 wood and Boyle started for their camp, a mile distant. 
 Xo sooner were their backs turned than the Indians 
 began firing, and they began dodging from rock to 
 r(H'k as they ran. Sherwood soon fell mortally 
 wounded; but Boyle escaped, Ix'ing protected by the 
 liio »»f the picket-guard who kept the Indians back. 
 1'' ' troops soon turned out aiul brought in the 
 svuMi.ded lieutenant, who <liod three davs afterward. 
 
 This occurred while Canby was smoking and chat- 
 ting with the consi)irators at the council-ground, and 
 was [lart of the plan by which Jack meant to deprive 
 the army at once of its principal officers. Had th.e 
 sclii'iiie succi'edcd as Jack intended, the troops placed 
 hy ( Jilleni near the stronghold for tlu' purpose of bi'- 
 iiij; ready in this or any other emergency, would have 
 hull thrown hito temptmir}' confusion, rendering 
 tht in unable to interfere with the slaughter of the 
 roniinissioners. In Jack's plan there was nothing 
 lacking. 
 
 Tin- officer at the signal station overlooking !Mason's 
 cani|) telegraphed Gilleni what had occurred, and the 
 {Iiiicral Sent for Cabaniss. A message was written, 
 and the doctor fullv informed of the damper of his 
 mission, which indeed he knew beforehand, anil was 
 willing to encounter for the sake of General r'anby 
 wlidin ho jrreatlv loved. But at the moment the 
 
 • 
 
 message was handed to hiui, the signal officer on 
 
 Cal, Int. I'oc. Hi 
 
 
 ■ iil> 
 
 i 
 
 
I 
 
 i ll 
 
 i 
 
 540 
 
 SO]ME IXDTAX ITISOPES. 
 
 the west side cried out " Tliey arc firing on the couii- 
 cil-tent!" The men turned out at the first ahiriii, 
 Sergeant Wooten, of K company of cavahy, head- 
 ing a party without orders. Tlie wikh^st confusion 
 prevailed; yet in the soh^ intent if possible to save 
 Canby and the otiiera tliere was a kind of order. 
 CilK'ni ga\e his commands rapidly, and the troops 
 Were only too eager to get at the assassins Coloru 1 
 ]\riller's battery E, 4th artillery, Major Throcknio'- 
 ton's batteries IM and K, 4th artillery, and con(pa- 
 nies E and (x, I'Jth hifantry, under Colonel Wriglit 
 and Captain Howe, moved forward as rapitlly as they 
 could iTet over the rouu^h ijrou!Kl But before tliev 
 had proeeetled far they met l)\'ar, with the story of 
 the fatal catastrophe. On reaching the council- 
 ground !M(\acham was found to be alive, and was 
 rescued. The Indians retreated to their stronghold, 
 and the troops followed for half a mile, when they wore 
 halted, and at night withdrawn to camp. 
 
 Ihus ended the peace commission, conceived by 
 placo-huntors, and al'toiward conscientiously ii^fisted 
 upon by well-meaning but uninformed officers of tlic 
 government in opposicion to the opinions and ferliiius 
 of the white people most concerned, and of tlie 
 Indians themselves. Secretary Delano was jiangul 
 in effig}^ at Yn^ka, and imblic meetuiga held to dn 
 lionor to the nuMnory of General Canby in Portland, 
 where nctthhig that had hap[M nod since the assassina- 
 tion of President Lincoln had so afleete-d the whole 
 connmnnty. 
 
 In justice to Delano it should Ik^ said tbat he lind 
 been subjected to a strong outsi<le pressure finni 
 people with philaMthopic theories and no knowledge 
 of the subject. Letters pourod into the department 
 in behalf o? the ^fodocs fn»m individuals and secic- 
 ties of every quality and quarter. Oil tiie I'.Xli of 
 March a letter was sent to the ])resident by Pron-^'in 
 Murray of New York. re])roaching him for emf»lnv- 
 ing the army against the Modoca. " If true, what 
 
 S((>ol(> 
 
 the M 
 
 whv si 
 
 go n Ian 
 
 (five t 
 
 idorie i 
 
 there 
 
 tlit'ir b] 
 
 ,uivcd {) 
 
 The 
 
 ^WO(I(»fg 
 
 '*L;ain.st 
 
 flvrly ,! 
 Many I 
 I'he peo 
 
 Ordori 
 
 tlie Ar<„i 
 
 '•"uneil-n 
 line, fotv 
 
 nn\\'(>vor 
 
 infi'uitry, 
 "lish bcir 
 the Mod, 
 tfi'gi'apJi 
 J'''ad\- to 
 ^vliich M; 
 l'"sition a 
 
 ^'lllcii, th 
 
 "i'Jit; no 
 
 slicltiT liii 
 
 I laving nr; 
 ^Vrhv^ se 
 ''d!'T it !h' 
 '■"•4-igo in 
 Jlfni on ]| 
 
 ''."'d, with 
 ^■'^'''t; aii« 
 
TARPY RESOLUTION. 
 
 547 
 
 Stoolo is roportod sayin;^, that the prcsulcnt knows 
 till' ]\[t>cl(»('s are not to hlanic in tliis niattiT, then 
 wliy sliould n<»t the army be turned against the Oiv- 
 HKiiians ?. . .Can you not leave tlie iModoos at rest? 
 (Jive them long, long time. Throw upon Oregon 
 iilone the nvsponsihility of this grave injustice. Is 
 there no way but that our army must recinve hi 
 their breasts the bullets which are shot because of the 
 ;^recd and covetousness of the Orcgoniansr' 
 
 The quakers also interested themselves for the 
 Mixlocs, Alfred H. Love, of Pliiladelphia, ])rotestnig 
 ;i'';iinst em])loving the army in forcing them to nuike 
 pr.ice, and saving the Peace Society of that city 
 t'i( ely discussed iwul dee[»ly deplored such a cause. 
 ?ihuiy newspajHTS took tliis view of the subject. 
 The jieople of Oregon survive. 
 
 Oiders now came fr<nn Wasliington to wipe out 
 tlie Afodocs. On tiie day after tlie massacre at tlie 
 (niincil-ground, tlie Indians attacked Mason's skirmish 
 line, forcing the left [ticket post to give way. It was. 
 however, retaki'ii l>y Lieutenant Thellar, of the 'J 1st 
 iiitaiitrv, with a porti«»n of Company I, a sliarp skii'- 
 tiii^ih being ke[»t up all day and a pait (»f the l.'5th. 
 the ^^()d(^cs attackinii. On the 14th (Jeiieral (Jillem 
 trhgraphed Colonel ^Tason asking if he could be 
 ivady to adviiiice on the morning of the Kith; to 
 wliieh !M;ison rei^lied thot lie }ircferred to get his fii'st 
 I'nsition at night, and was ready to move that night. 
 f liHem thtMi ordered him to tak(> his position on that 
 iii^ht; not to make any persistent attack, atid to 
 sh( her his men as well as possible. Donald McKay 
 h.iviiig arrived M'ith a company of seyentv-two Warm 
 Si'niig scouts, which Caiiby had order«<l organized 
 ill'; er it !>eca:ne apparent that t)ie jSIodocs might n^- 
 ciigagc in hostilitic>s, ^lason was dii'ected to ))ost 
 tli<Mii on his left, or on the north side of his strong- 
 iiohl. with onlers to woi-k around toward (Jreens 
 ri.;lit; and bo sure to wear their uniforms to prevent 
 
 
I I 
 
 Hll! 
 
 ' 
 
 I .: 
 
 V 
 
 I 1 
 
 \' 
 
 648 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 n)istakcs; not to use his artillery except ^vhen lio 
 thought it would h< < iToctive; and to hold every iiuli 
 of ground gained. "Tell your men," he said, " b) 
 remember Geneml Canby, Slierwood, ami the flag." 
 
 The niovement began at midnight, and before day- 
 light the tnn)ps were in position, about 400 yards 
 east of the stronghold, the right infantry, und r 
 Captain Burtoh, resting on the lake, and on the ht>, 
 the cavalr}% dismounted, under Captain Bernard, a 
 section of mountain howitzers under Lieutena:it 
 Chai»in being held suljject to speeial order. Tlic 
 men had thrown up breastworks of stone to conccul 
 their exact position from the tnemy. Soon aft< r 
 daylight the howitzers opened fire, and skirmishinj; 
 conmienced. 
 
 On the west side Perry and Cranston of the cavalry 
 moved at two o'clock in the morning to a pohit l)t - 
 yond the main portion of the .stronghold on the soutli, 
 where they concealed tlicir men, waiting to be j(»iiii(l 
 at daylight by the infantry and artillery under Alilli r 
 and Throckmorton, with Green and stafi". These h fl 
 camp at seven o'clock, and soon united with Perry's 
 conunand. Miller had the extreme riglit, Throck- 
 morton on his left, and two companies of infantry in 
 the centre; while the cavalry Nwre on the extreme 
 left, touchinij the lake, the intention beinix to elo.sf in 
 gradually on the stronghold from every side. 
 
 The day was warm and still, and it could be im 
 Ioniser .said, in defence of failure, that i'jfnorance 'if 
 the nature of the ground or obscurity from fog pK - 
 vented success; besides, every man had a [ujrsiitiiil 
 interest in retrieving the honor of the army from tla' 
 humiliati<m of the I7th of January. The first op]"'- 
 sition was encountered a mile and a half from Jack's 
 camp, when straggling shots at long range began t<» 
 fall among the troops, who advanciid in oj)en skirmish 
 order along the lake shore, sheltering theniselves as 
 best tlev could under cover of the ritcks in their wav. 
 On rcachnnj: the gorge under the blulP, a galling lire 
 
 v";is pn 
 
 station 
 
 was gi' 
 
 and ra| 
 
 ;uid till 
 
 time M 
 
 iittentid 
 
 (langerc 
 
 was woi 
 
 Several 
 
 also woi 
 
 to advar 
 
 li'iitenai 
 
 li'tlf-pas< 
 
 the line 
 
 "pposite 
 
 fi''>iit wit 
 
 M'"llled 
 
 tloop.s ; 
 
 thro\vin<» 
 thrill a ,) 
 
 W lit U'ej 
 
 111 p'>S-40SJ 
 
 iniiii |)Ia( 
 ••i^Cfl, only 
 si lo, ajso, 
 "f ilef('nc 
 Ill"ll l)V f( 
 At .six 
 ^^•'f'l. an: 
 
 st|'()i|_r!io|( 
 
 "i'4'ht M;),,.^ 
 -Moilors \v 
 'i"'( cl..s,., 
 'filled, anrl 
 'li-'Jiifs Were 
 ''^■'''•y sid(> 
 
 '^'l-nipthi 
 
 11; 
 if' 
 
BATn.E OF THE LAVA BEDS 
 
 R40 
 
 vnn poured into tlicni from a large party of !Modocs 
 stiitioiiod tliero. The reserves comiiijr up an order 
 was given to cliargc, wliich was done with suoli force 
 luid rapidity that the Indians were ohliged to retire, 
 and the troops took their position. At the same 
 time Mason was doinnr nil in Jiis j)ower to divide the 
 attention of tlie Modoes, wl;ilo the army passed tliis 
 dangerous point. In tlio eliargo, Li(>ut<'nant Ka'fan 
 wa>5 wouikIcmI in tlio tliigh, but did not leave the field. 
 Several privates of IVIiller's artillery oonnnand w<re 
 also wounded. At two o'clock the order was given 
 to advance the mortars under Captain Thomas and 
 li' iitiMiants (.^'anst(m and Howe, 4th artillery. By 
 li;df-j)ast four t!i(\v were in position, and the left of 
 the line on the west had deployed down the lake 
 opposite to the stronghold, crossing the? ojten space in 
 fiMiit without loss. Half an hour later the Modoes 
 ^ii'Uied to he concc^ntrating their fire on Mason's 
 troops; hut just at this time the mortars hegan 
 tliiowing shells into the Modoc "^losition, which gave 
 tli'iii a (jiversion and arrested their fire. So far all 
 w lit W(dl. Tlu! hlulF tak< n by the charge was still 
 ill pos>iession of Miller's men, between wliom and the 
 111 liii jdateau or mesa, in which the cavs were situ- 
 ateil, oidy two ledges of rock intervened. On !^^ason's 
 silo, also, the Modoes had abaiirlone*! their outer Hue 
 of defences; but the cidouid would not yet ex[)ose his 
 iii'ii by fidlowing them. 
 
 .Vt six o'(doek the mortars were again moved ftr- 
 w.ird. and by nightfall the trot»[)S in front of the 
 stronghold were ready to seah; the heights. At mid- 
 tii^lit Mason took u[) the position abandoned by the 
 Modoes within 100 yards of tlieir <lefences. The day 
 had closed with eight soldiers wounded and three 
 Killed, and one citizen su])pose(l to be killed. The In- 
 dians wore nearlv surrounded, and fouglit tlu; troops oji 
 • vi'iv side, seemin*if to indicate more stretwrfh than 
 tlii'v w(>ri' supposed to ])ossess. !^fortar ]ttartiee was 
 K'pt n[) throughout the night with inlcrvals of teumin- 
 
850 
 
 SOME INDIAN ETISODES. 
 
 utos. The troops, wlio wcro jjrovitled with tlirco duys 
 c«)oke(l rations, ovorcoats, M.aiikct.s, and 100 rounds of 
 annnunition eacli, rcniainod on tlio field without chan;_'- 
 insjj ])o.sition. 
 
 Findinjjf when daylij^ht came on the IGth, tliat 
 ^Eason's k'ft untk'r Tlichar had p ),sscssion of tlio mesa, 
 with the Warm Spring scouts on his riglit, and tlie 
 whole line unhrokcn, the Modocs ahantloncd tluir 
 strong defences, and i)assed out Ity unseen trails, g( t- 
 ting on his left and in his rear, pr^'venting his joiuing 
 (irei'u's riglit, as directed by a dispatch from (jillein. 
 Subsequently he was ordered to advance his right, 
 and join (ireeu on the shore of the lake, which move- 
 ment cut the Indians ofl' from water. A sharp iii- 
 gagement took place in ])revi'nting the Indians fr<iiii 
 getting to the lake. J^y ivii o'clock (ireen's liiif 
 had scaled tlie bluff, and reached the to[) of tlie riclij:e 
 next to the stronghold, meeting but little o[t[)ositioii; 
 but it was decided not to push the troops at this 
 point, as there might be a heavy loss without luiy 
 gain ; and the want of water would soon drive th* 
 jVIodocs out of tlieir caverns an<l dc'fences, while it 
 was not likely they couhl find a stronger position anv- 
 where. The work of the ilay consisted simply in 
 skirmishing. Nojunction was effected between !^las- 
 on's left and (Jrei'u's right, the principal resistauci- 
 being made to this m(»vement, the object of wliieh 
 was apparent at a latter period of the battle. 
 
 In the evenin«j tlie ^^lodocs having a large fire in 
 their camp Thomas dropped two shells into it wliicli 
 wi'fc followed by war w]k)»»[)S, and also l)y crits df 
 rage and pain. After this the ]\Iodoes sliowed thnn- 
 selv(!S and cliallenged the soldiers to do tlu; same, 
 IJut the soldiers were hiddi'U behind stone breast 
 Works in groups of five or six, with orders at no tiim' 
 to allow themselves to be surprisi'd. In the.se little' 
 forts, built at niglit, they slieltered ^^hemselves, and 
 caii;;lit a little sleep, two at a time, while the others 
 watched. 
 
 '■ 
 
CLOSINfi IN. 
 
 851 
 
 The hardest fi^lit during tho day occurred wlicn 
 Miller was endeavoring to form u junction witli tho 
 Warm Spring scouts, and failed As ho was cross- 
 ing a chasm, tho !Modocs suddenly appeared and 
 tut him oft' with thirteen inon. They fortified theni- 
 srlvos, and fought desjRrately until ahout four in the 
 afternoon, when, shellsbeginning to fall in that vicinity, 
 tlit y left cover and ran into the lims amid a shower 
 ( f i)ulK'ts, losing two men killed and one woundid. 
 Agahi in the evening the Modocs made a movement 
 to hreak through tho lines and get to tlie lake, hut 
 Wire checked by a heavy fire from tho troops. Tho 
 second dav ended with some further advance's made 
 upon tlie ^Fodoe stronghold, and tho moilar batteries 
 in better itosition. The blaze of musketrv along tho 
 jiike sliore In the closinjjf enya-'ement at nine o'clock 
 in the evi'ning was likened to the dartinLj of Hanies on 
 ;i burning pniirio seen at niglit. Once more tho troops 
 remained over night in the field, having nothing warm 
 with tJieir rations but coffee served to them hot. 
 
 Tlie conditi(»n of the jNlodoes nmst have been vi'ry 
 niiseral)le, hennni'd in as they were, cut off from 
 Wiitei', and not allowed a moment's rest from fi\ ini; 
 .•-IhHs. Those who watched them through field- 
 ulasses ((uriuiX the dav stiid that thev nm from one 
 
 ' ^ Of/ » 
 
 jioint of rocks to another back and forth, with no ap- 
 parent motive, seemhigly dismayed by the peril that 
 * ii\ irone<l them. But tlie work of ext(>rniination did 
 not go on as (Tillem desire<l. The Warm Spring war- 
 riors reported killing four ^Fodocs and losing one of 
 tlicifown men. How many wen; killed in their cavt s 
 was unknown. The casualties on the part of the 
 tioops in the two days' fight amounted to seventeen, 
 only five being killed. 
 
 Cauglit thus in his own trap, tho time had come 
 when Captain Jack should surely bo juit to death. 
 < Ml the morning of tlii^ 17th the lines nu't without ini- 
 1' 'iiiient, and (.h)sed hi on the stronghold, finding few 
 
 • hW 
 
 m 
 
 
 '':W'i 
 
 i 
 
SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 Modocs to dispute their passage. About eleven the 
 Indians seemed to rally, and the troo})s niu,de a gciieial 
 moveiiieiit to sw('«;p the lava beds. Down upon the 
 fated band they poured, each soldier eager to be first. 
 No quarter now ; think of Canby 1 Thus tliey ruslied 
 pell niell into the stronghold. With uplifted sword 
 and gun ready, all breathless they prepared to strike. 
 But what is this ? Where are the dastardly red 
 skins? Utterly vanished I An examination of the 
 ground showed a fissure in the pedregal leading from 
 the oaves to tlie distant hills. This pass had l)een 
 marked with rocks and poles so that it could be fol- 
 lowed in the darkness; and tlirough it had been con- 
 veyed to a place of safety the families and property of 
 tlie savages, men enough only having been left to 
 keep ui) an appearance of fighting during retreat. It 
 was the eff )rt to keep the pass open and undiscov- 
 ered, that had so long prevented the junction of iVIas- 
 on's left witli Green's right. After having succi'ss- 
 fully retreated to a place of safety, a poi"tion of tin; 
 Modoc warriors returned and enyfaged the trooijs for 
 about one liour. Before quitting the scene altogctlier 
 a party of them esca[)ed to the rear of (rreen's com- 
 mand, and between him and his camp killed a tcan)- 
 stor from Yreka named Eugene Hovey, nmtilating 
 his body horribly, and taking from him four horses 
 and a nmle. Two newspaper correspondents were 
 fired on but they escaped by running. 
 
 The news that the stronghold had been evacuat'^d, 
 and the Modocs had escaped, was carried by messen- 
 gers in every direction, and the greatest excitement 
 l)revailed. The intelligence was received in Yreka 
 witli "tlie greatest amazement," so sure had been tli 
 hope of tlie s[)eedy close of the war whenever the 
 military were jX'rmitted to act in their proper capac- 
 ity. Even now people tried to comfort themselves by 
 repeating tliat the stronghold was captured. But tlie 
 mere possession of tlie classic caves, now that .Ta( k 
 was out of them, and free to carry on a guerilla war- 
 
EVACUATION OF THE STRONG HOLD. 
 
 r):.3 
 
 faro, was a matter of small felicitation, if not of posi- 
 tive solicitude. 
 
 In the caves were found evidences of the death of 
 scventeeu of the Modocs as it was believed. It ap- 
 jiiared that most of tlie women and cliildren had 
 \kvii removed previous to the assassination. Many 
 siiells wore found to have exiJoded in and ahout the 
 ^[odoc camp, from which it is judged that they nmst 
 liuve had many wounded. A body was found which 
 was supposed to be that of Scarface Charley, tlu; 
 su[>position being confirmed by an old woman found 
 ill tiie cave and taken prisoner. It was also believed 
 that Sconchin was killed. This was afterwards learned 
 to be an error. Their scalps were still saft; on tlieir 
 heads, though a sergeant of troop K, 8th cavalry, 
 thought he had secured tliat of Scarface as a trophy. 
 (^>uery: because savagism scal}>s, may civilization? 
 Does it make devils of men to fight the devil with 
 his own weapon? 
 
 Smoke from fires in the southeast indicated that 
 tlio Indians were fleeing in the direction of CJooso 
 lake or Willow springs. The cavalry was ordered to 
 pursue. Captain Perry setting out on the morning of 
 the 18th to make a complete circuit of the lava beds, 
 which compelled him to march about eighty miles. 
 The Warm Spring scouts also were scouring the 
 country to the eastward. Both connnands were out 
 tun days witliout seeing the enemy. In the mean- 
 time !^tason was ordered to hold tlie ]\I<)doc fortress 
 with his couHuand, and the property of his camp at 
 Hosj)ital rock was removed to his former camp on 
 tho peninsula or Scorpion point. The cavalry not 
 with Perry were ordered to this camp. This left tho 
 tiiiil along the lake exposed to attack from tlie enemy's 
 
 Scouts. 
 
 On the 18th the Modocs came in plain sight on a 
 ildn'o about two mil?s oft", and seemed by their largo 
 liies to be burning their dead. They also fired an 
 
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 WEBSTER, NY. M580 
 
 (716)872-4503 
 
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654 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 occasional shot during the clay from nearer points. 
 On the morning of the 19th as a pack-nmle train was 
 on its way from Scorpion point to Mason's camp on 
 the lava beds with supplies, escorted by twenty men 
 under Lieutenant Howe ; it was attacked by eleven 
 ]\Iodocs in ambush, who were driven back. Lieuten- 
 ant Leary, coming to meet the train with an escort, 
 had been less fortunate, losing one man killed and 
 one wounded in passing the same spot. As the train 
 was entering the lava beds it was again fired on ; and 
 again on returning, at both the attacking point:;. 
 Dunng tlie day the Indians crept up to within a few 
 hundred yards of the pickets, firing a volley into 
 camp. A shell dropped among them by Captain 
 Thomas scattered them for that day. They showed 
 tliemselves liowever on the 20th; going to the lake 
 for water they fired on the Warm Spring warriors 
 burying their dead, and even had the audacity to 
 batlie themselves in the lake in sight of camp, only a 
 feeble attempt being made to get at them by the as- 
 tonish (1 soldiery. In fact, they exhibited no fear 
 about approacliing the army camps, and the Warm 
 Spring warriors were posted at the head of the bay 
 between the lava beds and Hospital rock to prevent 
 the Indians visiting the abandoned camp to pick u}) 
 cartridges, coming to the lake for water, or stealing 
 into Gillem's camp to gather information as spies. 
 
 Why did not the troops go forward and grind tlio 
 savages to powder? The men were impatient enougli 
 to be doing something, and vexed because General 
 Gillem preferred to wait for two companies of the 
 4th artillery, en route from San Francisco to Fort 
 Crook under Cai)tain John Mendenhall and H. C. 
 Hasbrouck, but which, on the news of the escape of 
 the Modocs at headquarters department of California 
 were telegraphed to proceed by the way of Shasta 
 valley to report to Gillem. They now thought they 
 knew that the IModocs could not be surrounded; or 
 
THE MODOCS AT LARGK 
 
 855 
 
 waling 
 
 id tlie 
 iiougli 
 cucral 
 of the 
 , Fort 
 
 H. C. 
 cape of 
 Uforuia 
 Shasta 
 
 it they 
 led; or 
 
 if they were they had to be assailed in their strong 
 position, and killed or captured. To accomplish this 
 it was not numbers that could effect it, but skill and 
 daring. The officers as well as the troops shared in 
 the general impatience at the course of the command- 
 ing officer, and went so far as to say that he consid- 
 ered only his own personal safety, remaining in camp 
 during the throe days' battle, and after the kittle 
 having all the troops that could be spared posted at 
 his camp. 
 
 When the peace commission was terminated by the 
 assassination of Canby the whole frontier was thrown 
 into a state of alarm followed by an attempt t(j place 
 it on the defensive. Governor Grover was informed 
 1)V telegraph that the road from the Rogue river to 
 Klamath valley was dangerous and that the settlers 
 had been warned. He was asked to order out 300 
 volunteers; and did issue a proclamation calling for 
 that number of men to serve on exposed portions of 
 the frontier. He ordered Ross to raise a volunteer 
 company, and open the road from Jacksonville to 
 Linkville, and to take to the settlers in the Klamath 
 basin forty-eight needle guns with 300 rounds of am- 
 munition, which had been issued a month previous 
 in anticipation of difficulties following the failure of 
 the peace commission, and stored at Jenny creek on 
 the road to Linkville. At the same time the gov- 
 ernor sent dispatches to United States senators J. 
 K. Kelly and J. H. Mitchell, directing them to ob- 
 tain an order from the war department for 500 needle 
 ''uns to be turned over to the state of Oret;on for the 
 nearest arsenal, 200 of which were due on a former 
 refjuisition, and the remainder to be credited to the 
 state on quotas due in the future, which arrangement 
 was effected. When it became known that the 
 ^[odocs had left their stronghold, great consternation 
 l)ievailed among the inhabitants of northern Cali- 
 fornia, and the wildest rumors gained credence. On 
 
 :m 
 
556 
 
 SOME nsT)IAN EPISODES. 
 
 
 the 19th J. K. Luttrel of the third congressional 
 district of CaUfornia arrived in Yreka with the intel- 
 ligence that the Indians of the lower Klamath and 
 Salmon rivers were fully informed on the Modoc war, 
 and there could be no doubt that Modoc runners had 
 visited all the northern California and southern Ore- 
 gon tribes. He had joined a company of volunteers 
 going out to bring in the remains of young Hovey, 
 shot on the I7th, for the purpose of visiting the 
 scenes of hostilities, and to make a report upon them 
 in his position as representative. The information 
 he acquired, however, was obtained in Yreka, and 
 from the same source that furnished all the informa- 
 tion that was permitted to reach Washington at this 
 time. 
 
 On the 20th the courier from headquarters to Yreka 
 was fired on while riding express about four miles 
 west of camp, the news of which alarmed the settlers 
 on Willow and Hot creeks, who apprehended visits 
 from small marauding bands of Modocs, and sent 
 their families to Yreka. To add to the excitement, 
 the Indians on the lower Klamath and in Scott valley 
 were holding mysterious dances and ceremonials, 
 decked in their war paint. The same rites had been 
 observed in Goose Lake valley, where also much 
 alarm was felt. 
 
 Fresh direction was soon imparted to operations by 
 the discovery of the Warm Spring scouts that the 
 Modocs were, after all, within the lava bed limits, 
 although six miles to the south of the former camp. 
 Here they had strongly intrenched themselves, and 
 were adding to their supplies and courage by frequent 
 descents on goods-trains and wayfarers. Their retreat 
 revealed, they became more daring, and ventured with 
 great bravado within range of the military headquar- 
 ters only to disappear as if by magic before pursuers. 
 It liad been learned by experience that in these nat- 
 ural strongholds, with their knowledge of the ground, 
 they could defy a manifold superior force in compara- 
 
THE MODOC'S SURRENDER, 
 
 657 
 
 tive safety, while the besiegers were exposed at every 
 turn or advance. 
 
 The press and pubhc alternated between expressing 
 apprehension of Indian raids and condemnation of 
 military maneuvres, and seemed to favor a proposal 
 of certain rash spirits for hunting down the miserable 
 remnant of Modocs at so much per scalp, as the 
 cheapest and surest way of settling the difficulty. In 
 dealing with fiends, fiendish measures were allowable, 
 they argued. Regular warfare wa^i evidently ineffi- 
 cient, and would involve the needless sacrifice of blood 
 and money. 
 
 The military naturally scouted the imputation cast 
 on their ability, notwithstanding repeated missteps. 
 During the first march toward the new Modoc retreat, 
 they allowed thomselves to be surprised by the enemy, 
 which fell upon the reconnoitering force of Major 
 Thomas, and scattered it in confusion, with the loss of 
 twenty-two killed, and a number of wounded, while 
 only one Modoc perished, through his own carelessness. 
 The result was another period of inaction, to await 
 reenforcements, during which the soldiers freely ex- 
 pressed their lack of confidence in officers whose only 
 achievements seemed to be leading them into traps. 
 
 Lack of water compelled the Modocs once more to 
 seek a new refuge. On their way to Snow mountains 
 they came upon a detachment sent to head them off 
 from so undesirable a direction. In the effort to 
 stampede this force, like that of Major Thomas, they 
 were foiled, partly through the promptness of the 
 Warm Spring Indians. The pursuit by the soldiers 
 was, moreover, so hot that the attacking band lost its 
 horses, together with the reserve ammunition. Thus 
 crippled, they were obliged to turn toward Indian 
 Springs, there to be speedily surrounded by the 
 troops. In this dilemma they negotiated through 
 Fairchild, offering to surrender to him if promised 
 their lives. This was agreed to, and on May 2 2d 
 Fairchild brought in seventy captives, including a 
 
 %W 
 
558 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPISODES. 
 
 dozen warriors, among them Steamboat Frank, Sliack- 
 nasty Jim, Bogus Charley, and Hooker Jim. 
 
 The band proved to be mainly Cottonwood Creek 
 Indians, who under accumulating reverses had tired 
 of danger and hardships. Not content with abandon- 
 ing their comrades, the above leading spirits actually 
 volunteered to aid in capturing Jack, who with twenty 
 braves had pushed eastward to Willow creek. Guided 
 by these renegades, captains Jackson and Hasbrouck 
 came so close upon the fugitives that several of their 
 squaws were secured. After being i>ursued to Langell 
 vallev, half their number surrendered, includinij: Scar- 
 face Charley Jack availed himself of the parley to 
 hasten away, only to be intercepted by a detachment 
 under Captain Perr}-, to whom he gave himself up 
 on June 1st tojjether with a few followers. Nearlv 
 all the remainder were fathered in durinfj the follow- 
 ing three daj's. Thus ended the six months campaign 
 of the Modocs, which cost the government one third 
 of a million in dollars, exclusive of pay and equipment 
 of troops, and a casualty of one hundred soldiers, 
 killed and wounded, not counting hapless settlers and 
 their heavy losses in property. Of the eighty war- 
 riors who started the war, fifty sur\'i\ed, with over a 
 hundred women and children. 
 
 General Davis was ordered to try the captives by 
 court-martial, regardless of the demand by Oregon 
 for the surrender of certain nmrderers amomv them to 
 her civil authorities for trial. Meanwhile a band of 
 Hot Creek Indians, under transmission to Boyle's 
 camp, were attacked by m?.sked men and four of them 
 shot. No investigation followed this cowardly deed. 
 The court-martial, which sat between the 5th and 9tli 
 of July, condemned to death Captain Jack, Boston 
 Charley, Sconchin, Black Jim, Watch-in-tate, and 
 Sloluck. The sentence of the last two was commuted 
 to imprisonment for life at Alcatraz, where they died ; 
 the other four expiated their crimes on October 3d, 
 at Fort Klamath. The reneirades who had assisted 
 
FINAL DISPOSAL. 
 
 ino 
 
 to rapture them wore granted their lives, yet two of 
 these were ringleaders, and the worst characters in 
 the band. The remnant of the Modocs, one hundred 
 and fifty-five, including foi-ty-two males, were moved 
 to Indian territory, under the chieftainship of Scar- 
 faced Charley, their most cultured representative. 
 Scho il and aijricultural trainiuijc has made them «j;cntle 
 and nearly self-sustainhiij. Old Sconchhi remains 
 with his peaceable followers on the Oregon reser- 
 vation. 
 
 Whatever the opinion concerning Modoc character 
 and claims, a certain admiration must be accorded to 
 the stubborn determination of the band, and its suc- 
 cess in so lontj resistino- with a mere handful of war- 
 riors the overwhelming military forces, supported by 
 a wide-spread connnunity bitterly hostile to Indians. 
 The country was favorable to guerilla warfare, how- 
 ever. The ISIodocs were acquainted with every foot 
 of the ground, and used to a flitting forest life, while 
 tlie troops were hampered not alone by inexi)erience 
 in this respect, but by rigid regulations unduly enforced 
 bv officers with deficient trahiinij; for such service. 
 The former had, moreover, secret allies among the 
 apparently neutral tribes of the region, which were 
 onlv too olad to aim an indirect blow at the white in- 
 viiders. Nor were traders lacking, or even oflHcials, 
 who found it to their interest to prolong the cam})algn. 
 Once started on the war-path, the Indians were 
 l>ronii)ted both by fear of vengeance and by the hope 
 for some happ}'- turn of affairs to persevere. 
 
 Eastern people, safe in their seclusion, could not 
 understand the danger and sufl^bring of pioneers with 
 wives and children and scanty means, exposed to the 
 mercy of exasperated natives. They felt inclined 
 rather to sympathize with a brave minority api)arently 
 fighting for hearth and home, for existence, against 
 ruthless frontiermen and soldiers, intent alone on 
 usurpation and glory. Their representations before 
 an admuiistratiou equally unconscious of the real state 
 
 k,4 
 
 r m 
 
 M 
 
560 
 
 SOME INDIAN EPIFODKS. 
 
 of affairs brought about the issue of instructions which 
 tied the hands of both settlers and troops, and werc! 
 the principal cause for the prohmgation of the war 
 and the many attendant misfortunes. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 SOME CHINESE EPISODES. 
 
 Bom. — So have I heard on Afric's burning shore 
 A hungry lion give a grievous roar; 
 The grievous roar echoed along the shore. 
 Artax. — So have I heard on Afric's burning shore 
 Another lion give a grievous roar. 
 And the tirst lion thought the last a bore. 
 
 — Bomlxitttat FurioM. 
 
 In the annals of our coast there is no fouler blot 
 tlian the outrages perpetrated at various times and 
 places upon Indians, Mexicans, and Chinese. Viewed 
 from any standpoint the aspect is revolting. As a 
 free and forward nation we fling over the walls of a 
 close despotism sentiments which would have disgraced 
 feudalism. As a progressive people we reveal a race 
 jtrejudice intolerable to civilization; as Christians we 
 art' made to blush beside the heathen Asiatic; as just 
 and humane men we slaughter the innocent and vie 
 with red-handed savages in deeds of atrocity. 
 
 Let the diabolism rest where it belongs, with un- 
 principled demagogues and our imported rulers from 
 the lower social strata of Europe; such is surely not 
 tl;e sentiment of true, high-minded American citizens. 
 It is infamy enough for our people to bear, that sucli 
 tilings are permitted in our midst. Since our first 
 occupation of these shores the better class of citizens 
 from the eastern United States have discountenanced 
 impositions upon foreigners. The foreigners them- 
 selves, and chief among them the low Irish, are the 
 ones who must bear the blame. To question a right 
 guaranteed by constitution and treaty, to punish the 
 innocent, to prosecute the unoffending, cruelly to en- 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 36 
 
 (Obi) 
 
 
 mAm 
 
562 
 
 SOME CHINESE EPISODES. 
 
 tcrtairi the weak, and despitofuUy to treat the poor is 
 11;) part of An^^lo-Aincricaii character. I have } ot to 
 find the first instance where atrocities upon the Chi- 
 nese were not condemned by the connnunity, by nine- 
 tontlis of them, and Ijy those who op[)os(xl by every 
 fair and humane means the presence of Asiatics in our 
 midst. Accursed bo tlie day that made from the dis- 
 tempered slums of European ce.ss-pools tlie first 
 American citizen, and gave liim power so to influence 
 for evil our politics 1 
 
 Prominent among the outrages in California upon 
 the Chinese are those at Los Angeles in 1871, and in 
 Chico in 1877. There are thousands of minor impo- 
 sitions, from the stoning of a pig-tail by school boys, 
 to the massacre of a Chinese mining-camp by bad- 
 blooded diggers, many of which I have given else- 
 where, but most of which were unrecorded, save by 
 the avenLjing an*jel. Yet these two instances illus- 
 trate the extreme to which this spoliation has been 
 carried in California. 
 
 Negro Alley was the Barbary Coast or Chinatown 
 of Los Angeles. The alley itself was a small street 
 connecting this hotbed of human depravity with the 
 business portion of the city. The two quarters, so near 
 and yet so socially distant, were in marked contrast, as 
 marked as the Five Points and Broadway, or as St 
 Giles and Piccadilly ; old-fashioned, low, one-storied, 
 whitewashed, tiled, windowless adobe buildings stand- 
 ing amidst filthy and unkept surroundings charac- 
 terizing the one, and brick warehouses, banks, and 
 gay shops the other. The denizens of Negro Alley 
 comprised the dregs of the nations. Asiatic, African, 
 and European, Latin and Indian there lived in un- 
 holy association, and for vocation followed thiev- 
 ing and murder. This was the nest, the city quar- 
 ters of that large fraternity of crime that fed on 
 southern California, Arizona, and northern Mexi- 
 co. It was the rendezvous of bandit, burglar, pi tty 
 thief, and gentlemanly highwayman, of men of all 
 
 sorts, 
 small 
 In 
 
 addin 
 
 demo 
 
 brotli^ 
 
 As el; 
 
 Were 
 
 Itroke 
 
 fisiicu; 
 
 uliicli 
 
 a rule 
 
 trials { 
 
 tliems( 
 
 cution 
 
 eeedini 
 
 Women 
 
 for vik 
 
 Bv thr 
 
 ing or 
 
 Were o 
 
 their li' 
 
 On A 
 
 of tJie 
 
 f'onipan 
 
 one oft] 
 
 one of t 
 
 company 
 
 then ab( 
 
 suhmitte 
 
 Were dn 
 
 befi^re tJ 
 
 Yo Hin 
 
 day a pi 
 
 tico of tl 
 
 the folio 
 
 t^ase .$!,( 
 
 forward 
 
 arising ai 
 
AFFAIR IN LOS ANGELES. 
 
 sorts, to bo bought with money, and some for a very 
 small amount. 
 
 In this the lowest of terrestrials made their abode, 
 adding their full (juota to the general fund of filtli and 
 demoraliaition. One of their institutions alone, the 
 hi'otliel system, occupied about two-thirds of a block. 
 As elsewhere among the Chinese in California there 
 were two rival companies who?e antagonisms often 
 hi'oke out in battles of 'jjri'ater or less degree, from 
 fis^icuft'to firearms. A case arose concerning a woman 
 wliicli excited unusual animosity between them. As 
 a rule the Chinese were able to manage their own 
 trials and punisliments, and admhiister justice among 
 tliemselves after their own fashion, even to the exe- 
 cution of offenders ca})itally, and to keej) their pro- 
 ceedings covered from the eyes of the law. But their 
 women, almost all of whom were held as chattels and 
 f )r vile purposes, were sometimes too nmcli for them. 
 By throwing ofl* the yoke for the purpose of marry- 
 ing or other object, and appealing to the law they 
 were of course protected from their owners, though 
 their lives were endangered thereby. 
 
 On Monday the 23rd of October, 187 1, the prologue 
 of the present tragedy was recited. The Ah Choy 
 company accused tiie Yo Hing company of abducting 
 one of their women, and marrying her Melican fashion to 
 one of their own men, in order to deprive the Ah Choy 
 company of their claim to her. Women were worth 
 thin about $400 each, and the outrage was not to be 
 sul)mitted to. Loud caterwauling ensued ; then knives 
 weie drawn and pistols fired. No damage was done 
 befiire the contending parties were arrested though a 
 Yo Hing jacket was pierced by two bullets. Next 
 day a preliminary examination was had before a jus- 
 tice of the peace, and bail fixed for appearance in court 
 the following day, in one case $500, and in another 
 case .$1,000. The manager of the Ah Choy came 
 forward and proffered security, when, the question 
 arising as to his ability to pay, an officer was sent to 
 
 ■",'*¥ 
 
564 
 
 POME CHINESE EPISODES. 
 
 I 
 
 examine his effects. Tlie exhibit of $3,000 in gold 
 and a large package of greenbacks was reported as 
 the result, and the bond accepted. This display of 
 wealth may have had its influence in feeding the fires 
 of violence which followed. 
 
 Free again, the Chinamen returned at once to their 
 fight. Their hatred for each other was now thor- 
 oughly aroused; fighting men had been brought from 
 a distance, and to death or any other consequence 
 they had become ravingly indifferent. Renewal of 
 the contest having bc^en anticipated, scarcely were 
 their shots aijain heard when mounted officers were on 
 tlie spot attempting new arrests. But the Chinese, in- 
 furiated by tlie interference of law, as well as by their 
 own quarrel, pointed their weapons at the approaching 
 officers, and firiny: fled to their dens. S!)ectators coni- 
 ing to the rescue, the officers agam advanced, and 
 were again fired upon, this time with more fatal eftect. 
 An officer, and a citizen, Robert Thompson, were 
 struck, the latter dying in an hour and a half Others 
 were also wounded. The assailants retiring, the 
 Asiatics for a moment were masters of the field. 
 
 Thus far the Chinamen were wrong and deserved 
 punirhment, while the officers ar, ' the people acted 
 rightly. But now followed one of those outbursts of 
 demoniacal passion but too common in countries where 
 the people are accustomed to think and act for them- 
 selves. Attracted by the firing, a crowd had gathered. 
 Houses in the neighborhood had been closed, and 
 iron shutters fastened. And now at the sight of 
 blood, quicker than it takes to write it, a chain of 
 men was thrown around the block so that none might 
 escape. The evil element of the place, some in hope 
 of plunder, others from love of slaughter, rushed to 
 the front and assumed the offensive. Scores of 
 pistols were drawn, and for a moment the shot rattled 
 briskly against the Chinese tenements ; then all was 
 still. But it was the murderous stillness of the mon- 
 ster making ready its death grip. Then low curses 
 
CELKSTIALS CAflED. 
 
 60S 
 
 were heard, hissed and whispered at the first, but 
 risiiij^ into louder deaunciat'ioiis against tlio whole 
 heathen brotherhood as it ran alony: the lino. Fire 
 was proposed to burn them out; but fear of general 
 conria«;rations brought forward those whoso property 
 would bo endangered, and the plan was abandoned. 
 (fOod citizens interposed their cooler counsel, but 
 without avail. The opportunity for blood and plunder 
 was too good to bo lost, Ilevenge upon a weak and 
 l;('ll)less race, upon those who had never injured tiicni, 
 upon those whose only crime was a too plodding in- 
 dustry, was likewise u[)permost in the minds of many. 
 
 Presently one of the besieged attempted escape. 
 With a hatchet in his hand ho issued from on" if 
 tlio houses, and running along the front a slu)rt dis- 
 tance endeavored to cross the street, when he wus 
 captured by an otlicer, and led away toward tlie jail. 
 The crow ! followed cryiiuj: *' lEani; him 1" "Take liini 
 from Harris 1" "Hang liiml" One of the mob 
 tried to plunge a knife into his back. He was a 
 littlo Chinaman for sue h bi«j reveuLre. Finallv when 
 half way or more to the prison he was taken from 
 the not unwilling officer's hands and hanged, hanged 
 to the crossbeam of a gateway convenient, bung- 
 iiiolv hanjjed until tlic little fellow was verv dead. 
 
 Tlio dance of death >vas now fairly oj)ened. Like 
 the flames of a city burning, the conflagration of 
 Hsjiulish passion roared and surged round tlie hapless 
 inmates of the Chinese block, as the crowd with 
 brutal ferocity fell afresh to their sanguinary task. 
 The sheriff with all his assistants sought now to 
 divert the fury of the fiends. The citizens likewise 
 lent their aid. But all in vain. Satan himself was 
 piping for his own to dance. 
 
 With yells of savage blasphemy in answer to the cry 
 for more blood, another rush was made upon the build- 
 ings. Mounting the roofs, they tore away the tiles 
 a;id fired upon the inmates, an exultant yell followinir 
 each successful shot. Wherever it was possible about 
 
SOME CHINESE EPISODES, 
 
 the tenements to open with axe, or bar, or sledge an 
 aperture through which to fire, it was done. For 
 three hours this continued at sickening length. At 
 last the doors of tlie charnel-house were broken open 
 and a sea of horror, shrouded by the dismal night, 
 rolled stifling over the senses. Sprawling in their 
 gore, crouching in corners, and under banks were ti:c 
 mangled forms of moaning men, and women, and chil- 
 dren upon whoui this terrible destruction had come 
 thus suddenly. Little respite the rabble gave them. 
 Dragging from their hiding places the trembling in- 
 mates, one by one they brought them to the door, 
 where others halted and hurried them to execution. 
 A cluster of three were hanged to the end of a 
 gutter-spout overhanging a corridor; other three 
 were dangled from the edge of an awning ; four were 
 strangled at the sides of a wa^on: four were taken 
 to the gateway where the first was executed and sus- 
 pended from the same beam. When the rooms were 
 emptied of their living occupants, the bodies of three 
 who had been shot to death remained, and many 
 others wounded. Of those hanged one was a mere 
 child, and children assisted at the execution. "Most 
 of the whites engaged in the hanging," writes an eve- 
 witness to the San Francisco Bulletin, " were men of 
 Hibernian extraction, men in whose countenance you 
 could easily distinguish the brute nature that con- 
 trolled all their actions, but none of that face divine 
 we are so often delighted in looking upon. And these 
 men had all their brutal passions wrought to the 
 highest pitch. But were any stronger evidence ne( - 
 essary of the utter demoralization of this mob than 
 that already adduced, we find it in the fact that tlio 
 city gamins were sprigs of humanity not jet having 
 entered their teens, and alasl women participated in 
 the night's hellish proceedings. Instances of both 
 actually came under my own observation. At tlie 
 place of execution on Los Angeles street, a little 
 urchin, not over ten years old, stood on the top of 
 
MURDER AND ROBBERY. 
 
 B07 
 
 the awning from which the Chinese were hanged. 
 He was as active as any one in doing the hangnig. 
 His childish voice sounded strangely at that time and 
 place, as he called aloud for more victims to sacrifice 
 to the demon-god ; and it was a stranger and sadder 
 sight still to behold him lay his hand to the rope, 
 and help them haul them up. And in the background 
 was a woman looking on. Her brogue betrayed her 
 extraction. She loudly congratulated the lynchers 
 on the performance of their diabolical work, and en- 
 couraixed them to continue." Three of the four 
 Chniamen who fired at the officers escaped, and only 
 one of those killed is known to have in any wise 
 offended the law. It was a most inhumane massacre 
 of innocent men. 
 
 Satiated somewhat with blood, the mob now per- 
 mitted the sheriff to drive such unslaughtered Asiatics 
 as he could find to prison for safe-keeping. Then the 
 work of robbery began, which action stamps at once 
 tlie character of those by whom the murdering was 
 done. Locks were broken and general pillage fol- 
 lowed. Every room of the Cliinese houses in Negro 
 alky was ransacked, and every shelf, trunk, and 
 drawer cleared of its contents. Even the pockets of 
 the murdered men were picked, and from one, a Chi- 
 nese doctor, the clothes were stripped while he was 
 yet hanging. From one was taken $400 wiiile on his 
 way to jail; $7,000 was found in the money-box of a 
 store ; the amount secured by the mob was estimated 
 at from $20,000 to $30,000. The whole affair occu- 
 })led about four hours, closing with half-past nine on 
 the night of Tuesday the 24th. At 1 1 o'clock all 
 was quiet in Negro alley, but it was the quiet of death 
 and desolation. 
 
 Attempts were made to bring the nmrderers to jus- 
 tice ; but law is poor and puny, in such a case it did 
 what it could. At the coroner's examination wit- 
 nesses were extremely careful how they testified lest 
 thoy should implicate a friend or bring upon them- 
 
868 
 
 SOME CHINESE EPISODES. 
 
 selves the vengeance of desperate men. " The evidence 
 so far," says a telegram of Thursday, "implicates two 
 Irishmen, one having boasted that he helped to get 
 away with three Chinamen." And writes another, 
 " Let those at a distance not be too hasty in passing 
 judgment in this matter. These acts of atrocity were 
 perpetrated by a comparatively small number of men, 
 of the very worst class in the community." The 
 grand jury of Los Angeles indicted thirtv-scven per- 
 sons for riot. Two of them were also indicted for as- 
 sault with deadly weapons, two for assault to commit 
 murder, and twenty-five for murder. 
 
 They stated in their report that the parties engaged 
 in the disgraceful scenes of the 24th of October were 
 " the worst elements of society, and in their cruelty, 
 and savage treatment of unoffending human beings, 
 their eagerness for pillage and blood-thirstiness ex- 
 ceeded the most barbarous races of mankind. No 
 attempt was made by any officer to arrest person's en- 
 gaged in the taking of human life even in their prc.- 
 e:ice. Hundreds of law abiding citizens , who were 
 u.iwilling witnesses of the sad spectacles of that nl'ijht, 
 would have quickly and clieerfully assisted in endhig 
 tlie anarchy had some resolute man, clothed with 
 authority, placed himself at their head.* 
 
 One dark, rainy night in December 1876, fifty or 
 sixty men, most of them armed with guns and pi jtols, 
 met in the woods near Chico for the purpose of adopt- 
 iacf measures for the exteruunation of the Chinese in 
 that vicinity. Their immediate plan was to fire the 
 Sierra mill, where Asiatics were employed, and to 
 bum both Chinatowns. During the session their 
 emissaries were out, gathering with guarded intima- 
 tions recruits from among those known as favorable 
 to the cause, who as they approached the assemblage 
 cried "You" and were answered "You" such beinix 
 the pass- word. After some parley t!ioy began to 
 divide into three parties for the three proposed burn- 
 
AFFAIR m CHICO. 
 
 639 
 
 ings, when opposition arose, some saying tliat they 
 were opposed to Chinese labor, but they were also 
 opposed to burning property. Many wore in favor 
 of the most sanguinary measures, which should stop 
 at nothing short of killing all the Chinese together 
 with their white employers. The discussion waxed 
 warm, and continued so late that action was postponed, 
 and the conspirators departed to meet openly m the 
 town hall the second night thereafter. At the place 
 named, and at two subsequent open meetings the 
 question was freely discussed, many opposed to vio- 
 lence taking an active part in the proceedings. 
 
 But there were those bent on blood whom mild 
 measures would not pacify. These met secretly again 
 at Armory hall ; and when those who favored clearing 
 that locality of Chinese by killing and stanipeding them 
 were called upon to enroll their names, some sixty or 
 seventy came forward and and signed the compact. 
 Constitution and b^'-laws were then adopted. The 
 organization was named the Anti-Chinese and 
 Workingmen's Association. Ofiicers were to be elected 
 In' ballot to serve for a term of six months, and were 
 to consist of a president, vice-president, secretary, 
 corresponding secretary, treasurer, marshal, inside 
 guard, and outside guard. To be eligible for member- 
 sliip the applicant must be not less than eiofhtet^n 
 years of age, and nmst hold opinions opposed to the 
 presence of Asiatics, and to those who employ, i);it- 
 r tn'ize, or advise them, or lease them houses or lands. 
 An initiation fee of one dollar was named, an<l signs, 
 grips, and passwords adopted. Officers of the law 
 were to be resisted if nt^cessarv, and the word "Nine" 
 was the cry of distress. The arm raised over the 
 head with the palm of the open hand forward was a 
 signal for help. 
 
 For greater efficiency the management was en- 
 trusted to a Council of Nine, consisting of three cap- 
 taii;s and six lieutenants, who were thems' Ives to 
 execute their decrees, though they might call on any 
 
 I mm 
 III 
 
 1%, 
 
S70 
 
 SOME CHINESE EPISODES. 
 
 member for assistance, and do all the necessary burn- 
 ing and killing, which latter might include white men 
 as well as Chinamen. Oaths were administered 
 promising secrecy and implicit obedience to the or- 
 ders of the council of nine, under penalty of death. 
 Over 150 members were enrolled upon this basis. 
 The council of nine had their secret place of meet 
 ing, which was over a butcher's shop, where they en- 
 tered one at a time. 
 
 Most Californian towns are satisfied with one Chi- 
 nese quarter. Chico had two, besides scattered 
 clumps of Celestials in their shingle shanties or white 
 tents wherever they happened to be at work. 
 
 The first meeting of the council of nine was held 
 in February 1877, on which occasion it was proposed 
 to burn old Chinatown. Failing to reach a conclu- 
 sion, the meeting adjourned to the second night after, 
 when the proposition came up to burn both China- 
 towns. As time and the cause progressed the killing 
 of six prominent citizens was seriously discussed. John 
 Bidwell was specially obnoxious for employing Chi- 
 nese, and opposing coercion. Said Wrlt^ht the stable- 
 man on one occasion, "If the council orders me I 
 will go out and return immediately with Bidwell's 
 scalp." 
 
 A secret society called the Order of Caucasians had 
 existed for some time on this coast, based upon igno- 
 rant and fanatical opposition to Mongolians. This 
 organization was composed mostly of foreigners, with 
 a few American mountebanks, who for the privilege of 
 acting as leaders did not hesitate to pander to the 
 lowest passions and prejudices of the demented fana- 
 tics. While affecting great regard for law and order, 
 they bound themselves to principles tending to tlio 
 most diabolical crimes. Caucasian clubs, or encanqi- 
 ments as they were called, were scattered throughout 
 the entire country. Second only to their outrageous 
 measures against Mongolians was their declared an- 
 tagonism against American citizens who employed or 
 
SECRET SOCIETIES. 
 
 in 
 
 befriended the Chinese. Was ever such impudence 
 heard of? By tliese alien hodcarriers, and the iMjllti- 
 cal pimps their associates, such citizens of the L'nitcd 
 States as preferred to employ Chinese to Irish were 
 denounced as public enemies, whom to injure within 
 their coward limit of law was imposed as a duty 1 
 The followinj' extract from the Caucasian constitution 
 speaks their condenmation in stronger terms than mine. 
 " Each camp and every individual Caucasian, and every 
 encampment, and the supreme camp, pled<^es to each 
 and every merchant, manufacturer, and trader, trav- 
 eler, mochanic, and laborer, thus acting, all their indi- 
 vidual and combined influence, power, advertisement, 
 and patronage; and shall oppose to annihilation by 
 every manner and means within the thin gauze of the 
 law all others. 
 
 "And it shall be the bounden and solemn duty of 
 every Caucasian, of every camp, encampment, and 
 the supreme camp, to pursue and injure every one 
 while he remains on the list of public enemi(!S, and 
 each and everv one forever, in all their walks of life, 
 save religion, morality, and person. 
 
 "Every Caucasian, every camp, every encampment, 
 and the supreme camp, shall labor to impede, harass 
 and destroy a public enemy by every mode and 
 means, and manner, known and unknown, wltliin the 
 reach of brains and thought and act, and within the 
 bounds of law. 
 
 "In his business, his means, his substance, his peace 
 and success, publicly, privatv,ly, socially, commercially, 
 and abov . U politically. 
 
 "Should property be lost because of such duty, 
 tho same not being insured, upon the pro[)er show- 
 ing encam[)ment shall pay the fullest insurance that 
 might have been secured upon such property ; and 
 Insured or not, encampment shall aid the faithful 
 l)rf>ther financially and in his credit to replace all 
 losses. 
 
 "Should loss be occasioned because of the duty of 
 
 ip\ : 
 
 ■1! 
 
572 
 
 SOME CHINESE EPISODES. 
 
 Caucasians in regard to the property of public ene- 
 mies, camps shall appraise the loss, pay it immediately 
 to the fullest farthing, and forward receipt and certi- 
 fied copy of such appraisure to the secretary of 
 the encampment. 
 
 "A Caucasian who knowingly breaks his pledge as 
 regards public enemies, shall be charged with perjury, 
 and if guilty, declared a public enemy, and if an offi- 
 cer perpetual public enemy." 
 
 With no other charge than that an employer had 
 discharged white labor and substituted Chinese, or 
 contemplated doing so, threats were made of fire and 
 death ; and humiliating was it to see these free white 
 Americans come forward and disclaim such intention, 
 tacitly admitting the right of the questioners to place 
 them under bonds. The evil eflects of this society, 
 besides frequent outbreaks of violence which might be 
 traced directly or indirectly to it, were seen in the bold 
 defiant tone assumed by its members, and in the idlers 
 that crowded the streets and who would not work ex- 
 cept at exorbitant wages. 
 
 Living at this time in Chico was a launder, John 
 Slaughter, a name significant of celestial achievement, 
 native of Arkansas, born of a Cherokee mother, and 
 aged twentv-three. He was a member of the work- 
 ingman's association, to join which he discharged all 
 the Chinese in his service, hoping thereby to obtain 
 the patronage of the members. Philip Rondos was 
 his partner, and the Chinese washermen ran them a 
 strong opposition. 
 
 Not long after John Slaughter had joined the 
 league, a stableman, Henry C. Wright, also a mem- 
 ber of the brotherhood, who had killed his man in 
 Nevada, and with H. J. Jones had burned Bidwell's 
 soap factory, informed John Slaughter that he, his 
 brother Charles Slaughter, Wright, and F. Conway, 
 were ordered by the council to assist at the burnini,' 
 of the Chinese quarters at a time named, and that all 
 
 divulge the 
 
 were to take an ironclad oath never to 
 
CONSPIRACY AND CRIME. 
 
 679 
 
 plot nor to be taken alive. Meanwhile some difficulty 
 arising between the council and their president A. 
 M. Ames, the adventure was postponed. 
 
 After this, meetings of the order were regularly held 
 Monday nights, the council discussing proposed 
 l)urnings and killings. It was ordered that Een True 
 sliould be r.ssassinated for guarding the Chinese quar- 
 ter after the attempt to burn their liouses had failed. 
 ( )n the night of March 8th, Eugene Roberts and John 
 Slaughter met opposite the Chico hotel. 
 
 '* Business," ejaculated John. 
 
 "What business?" asked Roberts. 
 
 "Some of us are going to burn old Chinatown," 
 John replied. 
 
 In an open space in the rear of the town thoy met 
 a1)C)ut twelve ochxjk that night. One of the number, 
 Holderbaum, obtained three sacks of straw, and sat- 
 urating them well with coal oil started for the Chi- 
 nese quarter. For half an hour after the dogs barked 
 so loudly they were obliged to keep off, but finally 
 tney succeeded in shoving the straw under a house 
 occupied by a Chinawoman and igniting it. 
 
 Next, the incendiarism of the Butte Creek Gardens, 
 wliose tenements were rented by Chinese was ordered, 
 and this time more distinguished action followed the 
 order. By the council of nine James Fahey was 
 directed to reconnoiter, while the others, armed, should 
 hold themselves in readiness. 
 
 " There is a big lot of Chinamen down there," said 
 Fahev on his return. 
 
 "It's got to be done, 1 suppose," ejaculated Wright. 
 
 "We have to begin some time and somewliere; &o 
 far it has been all talk and no cider." 
 
 " I didn't know I had to murder men when I 
 joined," said Slaughter. 
 
 "The council have to father this job, as I'm out of 
 it," growled Fahey, as he walked off toward the room 
 over the butcher's. 
 
 At 7 o'clock on the night appointed, near Chico 
 
 ih-i*} 
 
87* 
 
 SOME CHIN'ESE EPISODES. 
 
 Creek bridge on the Dayton road, the men again met, 
 and immediately set out through the fields west of 
 the race-track to Edgar slough, and then up the 
 Oroville road to the first Chinese camp opposite 
 which they stopped. Charles Slaughter was now of 
 the party, and also Eugene Roberts, a native of Con- 
 cord, New Hampshire, twenty years of age, a butch- 
 er's butcher by occupation. The latter did not know 
 what infatuation led him into the folly, nor did any 
 one else, unless it was the inspiration of the council 
 of nine that overshadowed him as he sawed bones 
 and cut and chopped meat in the room below. In 
 the vicinity were three Chinese camps; and filled 
 now with the demon of destruction Fahey wished 
 to burn them all; but it was thought best by the 
 others to take the first one that night and leave the 
 others for another time. 
 
 Close at hand where they now stood, and near the 
 huts, was a barn partially filled with straw, to which 
 through a crack Roberts applied fire. Then they 
 aii ran down behind the banks of the creek near by 
 and made ready their pistols to fire upon the Asiatics 
 as they came out. Rare sport 1 A dog givhig the 
 alarm the fire was put out. Then crawling up to the 
 shanty nearest the barn they began to fire into it. 
 The inch boards of which it was made, with the spa<?c3 
 exposed by the cracks and windows, afforded not tlio 
 safest protection, and the occupants watching their 
 chance opened the door, dodged the bullets, and ran 
 into the bushes. Charles Slaughter then fired the 
 barn for the second time, and it burned to the ground. 
 This was laurels sufficient for the nijjht. Returnhi<j 
 to headquarters and reporting, they were commended 
 for the bravery and skill with which they opened tlic 
 campaign. John Slaughter was made lieutenant and 
 others promoted. 
 
 On the Humboldt road two miles east of Chico, 
 at Chris Lemm's ranch, stood a shanty tenented oii 
 the night of March 14, 1877, by six Chinamen, whose 
 
MORE MURDER. 
 
 573 
 
 occupation just then was clearing a piece of ground 
 by contract, which work had been previously offered 
 to white men, and by thein refused, at four dollars an 
 acre more than the Mongolians received. 
 
 In the afternoon of the day mentioned, Roberts 
 called at Slaughter's laundry and asked John to ac- 
 company him to the slaughter-house and assist in 
 turning up beef. John assented. While engaged at 
 their work Roberts paused as if a thought had sud- 
 denly struck him. 
 
 " Let's gf) up and burn the China cabin on Lemm's 
 ranch," he said. 
 
 "Agreed." replied Slaughter. " Who will go ? " 
 
 *' Fred Conway and I, Thomas Stainbrook, and 
 Charles Slaughter, making five in all," said Roberts. 
 
 The party met according to agreement just above 
 the house of Roberts father shortly after 7 o'clock, 
 and proceeded up the Humboldt road toward Lemm's 
 rancho, Roberts and John Slaughter marched before, 
 aiul the others followed. Roberts was captain of the 
 occasion. A wagon passing, all hid themselves behind 
 a log. Neither Conwav nor Steinbrook knew the 
 exact nature of the work to be done ; hence they 
 were somewhat startled upon Robert's cooly remark- 
 ing as they neared the hut, "Unless we kill the 
 Chinamen we will be arrested." They did not object 
 to rob them and burn the premises, but thc}'^ were 
 not prepared to murder. The others wore, however, 
 and it was too late now for any to retreat. None of 
 them were disguised. Scaling a fence the party 
 a])proached the house and entered. Within were six 
 Chinamen lounging off the fatigues off a hard day's 
 work in various attitudes about the room. Instantly 
 every one of them were covered by revolvers in the 
 hands of the assaulting party. They were then 
 ordered to come forward and seat themselves close 
 toorether on the floor. While three of the assailants 
 stood guard over them, two, Roberts and Charles 
 Slaughter emptied their pockets and examined the 
 
 i 
 
 i, 1 I' 
 
 III 
 
m 
 
 SOME CHINESE EPISODES. 
 
 premises. A carpet-bag and valise were broken open 
 but nothing of value discovered. Taking from his 
 pocket a bottle of kerosene Roberts emptied it upon 
 the victims and about the floor. Then calling upon 
 all to make ready, he cried " Fire I " and each select- 
 ing his man four of the six unfortunates fell dead, 
 and the other two so badly wounded that they were 
 suppf)sed to be killed. Some of the party fired twice. 
 The nmrderers then fled, taking different routes back 
 to town, and neglecting in their awe-stricken haste to 
 fire the premises as they had intended. 
 
 It was about 9 o'clock that the killing was done, 
 and at ten the murderers were at their homes and 
 most of them in bed. Peaceful must have been their 
 slumbers that night. It had been agreed that in 
 case any of them were arrested Wright should swear 
 they were in his stable at the time. 
 
 The 1 6th of March a public meeting was held at 
 which it was agreed * that the citizens of Chico view 
 with horror the assassination of peaceful Chinamen, 
 and the indiscriminate destruction of property which 
 has prevailed recently in our midst, and v/e pledge 
 ourselves to use our utmost power to bring to justice 
 the perpetrators of these outrages, and to this end 
 will cheerfully second any effiirts of our oflScers." In- 
 dignation ran high on the afternoon of the same day, 
 when it was discovered that a notice had been posted 
 on the office door of the Keefer rancho cautioning tlio 
 proprietor against the employment of Chinese un- 
 der penalty of destruction of the premises. Two men 
 were arrested on suspicion. 
 
 Next day the excitement was still more increased 
 by the receipt by many citizens of threatening notices, 
 all mailed after eight o'clock the night previous. " Get 
 rid of your Chinese help within fifteen days or suffc r 
 the consequences." Signed "Committee." A threat 
 was sent to an officer by mail that if lie took any meas- 
 ures for the detection of the murderers of the China- 
 men, he himself would be killed. The question of 
 
ARRESTS. 
 
 577 
 
 forming a vigilance committee vas seriously tlisrusscd 
 l)y the citizona. The law seamed petrified ; if any- 
 tlilnij was to be accomplished the people nmst do it. 
 A reward jf ^1,500 waaotfered by the people of Chico, 
 $,)00 by the Chinese association called the Six Ccmii- 
 ))anies of San Francisco, and $1,000 by the governor 
 <.'f the state. By the 27th eleven arrests had been 
 nuule, one of a man caught mailiiu' an anonvinous 
 ] -tter to an officer threateinng death if he attempted 
 to arrest the incendiaries. All were members of the 
 workingmen's association, and six were reputed 
 Caucasians. 
 
 The first arrest was that of Conway who was de- 
 tected mailing threatening letters. Shadowed for two 
 (lays he was finally arrested, and after two days con- 
 finement exposed the wjjole plot. Wright, and the 
 brothers Slaughter, each confessed on being brought 
 to prison. After a preliminary examination at Chico 
 tlie prisoners were moved to Oroville for trial the 
 27th of March. An attempt at rescue by the frater- 
 nity was feared on the day of removal, and eight men 
 armed with Winchester riflus acted as escort. Four 
 thorough-brace wagons conveyed them from the Chico 
 prison to Oroville. A large throng gathered to wit- 
 ness their departure. The prisoners were in fine 
 sph'its. They seemed to feel the sustaining presence 
 of the brotherhood, and that the people were with 
 t!iem. Not one of the five murderers manifested the 
 s]ij;htest fear of punishment, though by their own 
 co:»fessions guilty of most dastardly villainy and doubly 
 worthy death. 
 
 Arrived at Oroville, the prisoners were met 
 by a large concourse of people. Here for the first 
 time they began to show signs of fear. They noticed 
 the change in the atmosphere; there were few admir- 
 i ig or sympathetic glances from that crowd; and the 
 same guard which so lately kept them from their 
 friends, now stood between them and, perhaps, more 
 summary justice. All the Chinese at Oroville gath- 
 
 CAt. INT.POC. 87 
 
Btl 
 
 SOME CHINESE EPISOPES. 
 
 ered round the jail to Bee tlie murderers of their 
 countrymen, heavily ironed, taken from the wagons 
 and thrust into jail. It did their hearts good thus to 
 lu-hold the brave Caucasians, and they went immediate- 
 ly to work gatiioring friends to give them a severe pros- 
 ecution at the trial. Conwav, ho who first confessed 
 and tliereby betra3'ed them all, was kei»t at a safe 
 distance from the other prisoners; he was brought 
 over in a sejiaratc wagon and confined hi a cell apart, 
 lest tJiey should tear him to pieces. 
 
 At half-past ton on the 30th of March the Chico 
 stage dr(»ve up to the Oroville courtliouse, and seven 
 more of the incendiaries and nmrderevs, closely guarded 
 and heavily ironed, were added to the first. This 
 completely filled the jail, and most of the cells con- 
 tained two occupants. By this time all the bravado 
 of the prisoners had left them; tliat whicli at first 
 thoy regarded as a good joke now assumed the gloomy 
 aspect of death. Roberts was the coolest of any ; ho 
 believed he should be hanged, he said, and spejit 
 nmch time reatliiuj: his bible. Conwav was reganltd 
 
 O I/O 
 
 as half idiot; he appeared indifferent as to what he- 
 came of him. Ames, first president of tlu; working- 
 men's association, was wild with excitement, and it 
 was feared he would become wholly insane. 
 
 The "Jd of April a grand jury was impanelled at 
 Oroville, and the town was filled with people. Meet- 
 ings were held by citizens and farmers of Butte 
 county, who were determined to rid the country of 
 the class then in prison. All members of the order 
 of Caucasians and of labor union° were exclutled. 
 The 5tli of Apri the grand jury came hito court anJ 
 reported true bill found against seven for nmrder and 
 seven for arson. \.mong those indicted for munlir 
 were the five per^ trators of the Lemm's rancho vil- 
 lainy. Yet, as tc often happens in the annals of 
 crime, the most gi Ity, the instigators of the outrai^es 
 were permitted t" escape. To obtain their own di>^- 
 charire, members of the council of nine had but to 
 
TRIAUS AND COXVICTIONS. 
 
 BTT 
 
 i;,Mioro participation In or Banctiou of tiio niurtlors. 
 Tlui people of Butte county were indignant wlicn tliey 
 Karued that the arcli-conspirators liatl been so quickly 
 jil)('rp,t«.d, and gjod men overvwhere were dissjip- 
 ])iiint(d. But tliis is the old, old story Instead of 
 ( aiioiiization, our courts need renovating, revolutionlx- 
 iii'jr, remodeling. They are a disgrace to civilization. 
 We want twice the efficiency, twice the detection, 
 conviction, and punishment of crhne for one-half the 
 iiionev it now costs 
 
 On the 7th of April those indicted for arson alone 
 were arraigned. Among these was the .stal>leman H. 
 V. Wright, the coolest and most reckless of them all. 
 
 " Have you a lawyer i " as^ .d Judge Saft'ord of 
 him. 
 
 "No sir." 
 
 'Do you want one ?" 
 
 "No 'sir." 
 
 "Are you guilty or not guilty?" then asked the 
 ell rk. 
 
 "Guilty," said Wright. 
 
 Adam Holderbaum pleaded guilty to arson in the 
 second degree. Five were convicted of arson in the 
 second (Kgree and sentenced, one to twenty years, two 
 to ten, and one to five years in the state prison. The 
 18th of A])ril H. T. Jones was brought into court 
 and convicted of arson in the first deijree. 
 
 While this trial was in progress a barn was fired by 
 tlie incendiaries and burned to the ground. Charlcss 
 Siaughter then pleaded guilty to arson in the second 
 thgree. Next John Mahoney was tried for arson, 
 and John Slaughter attempted to assist him by false 
 swearing. Thomas Stainbrook's case was called for 
 trial the 23d of j\Iav, and was followed bv those of 
 Charles and John Slaughter, E. R. Koberts, and E. 
 Conway. Stainbrook was sentenced to twenty-seven 
 and a half years' imprisonment, and tlie others to 
 tw(^nty-five years each. 
 
 Perhaps we should be satisfied with an aggregate 
 
580 
 
 SOME CHINESE ETISOBES. 
 
 of little less than two centuries of servitude for the 
 killing of three Asiatics, and the burning of a few 
 buildings. The presence of too many low Mongol- 
 ians in our midst is not conductive to the highest 
 civilization ; and yet these Chinese were men ; they 
 were coolly and wilfully murdered ; the assassination 
 was as foul and deliberate and unprovoked as any 
 to be found in the annals of crime ; the law makes 
 such killing punishable by death ; and yet these 
 murderers were not so punished. 
 
 About this time M. Atherton was tried at San 
 Josd for the murder of Edgar May at Santa Cruz, 
 while the latter wag in a state of helpless intoxication, 
 and the murderer likewise drunk. Atherton was sen- 
 tenced twenty-five years imprisoimu nt. Now 
 these sentences, all of them, done into English, simply 
 say that the killing of Chinamen, and killing t!one l>v 
 drunken men is not murder. It is difficult to under- 
 stand why courts and juries any more than vigilance 
 committees have the right to break the law, or to 
 subvert its just operation. 
 
 During these proceedings a Citizen's Safety Com- 
 mittee had been organized at Chico, of which Mr 
 Theil was appointed treasurer. Hung upon the shut- 
 ter of Mr Thiel's store on Second street the night of 
 April 8th was found the following missive written < n 
 a half sheet of dirty note paper. It is hardly up to 
 the standard of averajxe comnmnications of this sort, 
 though it caused much uneasiness, particularly amor.g 
 owners of grain-fields. 
 
 *' The devil dreeme on the Chinese question. There 
 are three or four men in this city has been making 
 dam fools of themselves in regard to the daimd 
 Chinese that will get anufe of it before the first of 
 Aui^ust. You must remember it seldom rains hoij 
 after the first of June, and when ever3'^thing is dry a 
 match v/ill burn without sacks of straw or karseeii 
 citlier, and we will also give the farmers of this country 
 notice to look out this season for everi grain. Eveiy 
 
FOI.LY OF SUCH ACTIONS. 
 
 £81 
 
 iTians ranch reaped or stacked by the Chinaman is 
 liable to tak fire from the Heat of the sack or the 
 .spark from tlie smoke sack. It looks bad to do sucli 
 uoik but if our state oficers done do something in 
 jKji-tection of the poore we will half to carry it out 
 ourselves and it will be in a ruflf manner to from 
 
 T. O. MUGINS. 
 
 "To the Public." 
 
 The instruments of the Chico outrages were less 
 fanatics than fools. Individually they had nothing 
 to gain and everything to lose by becoming the blind 
 t lols of those who had nothing to lose and every- 
 tiling to gain by warring on a mm-voting class. The 
 antagonism of the stableman and the butcher's clerk 
 to Chinese laborers was inspired neither by race 
 antipathy, fanatical hatred, nor industrial interest. 
 ^ ulgar brutality seems to have been the primary 
 instinct prompting them, and next to this petty 
 plunder. Believing themselves safe from punishment 
 l)V reason of their secret associations, ilattcred by 
 tliose who set them on, they flung forward the bridle 
 n in of their evil natures, and let their low tastes lead 
 thoni whither they would. Secret societies organized 
 fir the accomplishment of a pretended public good, 
 and then lendin«: theuiselves to the commission of 
 crime, cannot be too severely denounced by every 
 lover of honest law and open liberty. 
 
 rf!;r' 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 Conrad. — Away ! you are an ass, you are an ass. 
 
 Dni/l/erri/. — Dost tliou not suspect my place ? Dost then not suspect riy 
 years? O that he were hero to write nie down an a«s ! But, niii:itL'r.s, lo- 
 nieinber that I am an ass; tlmugh it be notMTitten Jowu, yet forget not. th.it 
 I am an ass. No, thou villain, thou art full of piety, as shall lie proved upi n 
 thee by good witness. 1 am a wise fellow; and, which is more, uu orticrr, 
 and, which is more, a householder; and, wliich is more, as prolty a piece (t" 
 flesh as any is in ^Messina; and one that knows the law, go to; and a riili 
 fellow enough, goto; and a fellow that hath had losses, and one that ha ili 
 two gowns and everything handsome about him. Bring him away. O tluit 
 I had ])een writ down an ass ! 
 
 — Much Ai/oA/xiiit Xollibt'j. 
 
 l.-if, Clown. — Argal, he that is not guilty of his own death shorteuj not Iks 
 own life. 
 
 iJ:l Clnirn.—Mut is this law? 
 
 1st Cloion. — Ay, marry is'L; crowuer's cpiest law. 
 
 — Hamlet. 
 
 Courts of justice in California were, in early times, 
 eijual if not superior to those of any new country ( r 
 border settlement founded since the days of Jus- 
 tinian — equal if not superior in ability, stupidity, cr 
 what you will. Anything that courts of justice could 
 do anv where or under anv circumstances, ij;()od or 
 bad, ours could achieve. Yet I may safely say th;it 
 the judges, on the whole, were honest men ; ainl 
 while frecjuently neither educated in law nor n[)eciall\' 
 fitted for the position, they were far above the avci- 
 age magistrates in general intelligence and practical 
 judgment. On the supreme bench and presiding ovi r 
 the district and county courts, particularly in tl •' 
 cities and more thickly populated parts, have bet ii 
 from the first occupation of the territory by citizi lis 
 of the United States until tlic present day, as ;il 
 and erudite jurists, men of as broad and enliglitemil 
 intellects, as might be found elsewhere in J']urope m 
 
 (082) 
 
 111' 
 
CHARACTER 0? THE JUDICIARY. 
 
 jt ir.s 
 
 incs, 
 ( r 
 
 J us- 
 er 
 ul.l 
 or 
 
 tlwit 
 
 iallv 
 
 ivcr- 
 
 fuvl 
 
 OVCl" 
 
 tl I' 
 
 Im'( n 
 l)(' til' 
 
 America. Sonic v/orc «lissipatetl, but for tlic most 
 l)art tliov wore; nita of iuteoritv. Even tlurinu; the 
 most lawlo8s times tliere were sitting on the judicial 
 beach of CaUfornia men whose purity of hfe and 
 character was never questioned. And to-day a cor- 
 rupt jud-jje is t!ie exce[)tion, not the rule. Witli pride 
 I point to our judiciary, and to the better class of 
 attorneys who practice in our courts. True, a judge 
 nuiy be bribed sonietiujcs, not knowing it; or he may 
 he swayed by public opinion, not knowing it; he may 
 he feasted by bonanza men, or given a free ride across 
 tlie continent by tlie wholesale corruptionists of the 
 railroads, and so warp his decision in their favor — not 
 knowing it. Unfortunately as much cannot truth- 
 fully be said of our legislators and political office- 
 holders who, during the usually short term of their 
 <ic( upancy, seek rather to s« rve themselves than the 
 pui)lic. These are never bril)ed without knowing it, 
 as they always require [)aj'^ in advance. 
 
 During the Hush times, the days of which I write, 
 we find some dolts and sonie wilfully wicked nun 
 seated even on our higher judicial benches. Through 
 the ab ence of strict social restraint arose laxity in 
 moral observances and ieoal formulas. Amony: the 
 ])oople, vigor of mind broke out into numerous eccen- 
 tricities ; or, rather, the preoccupied citizen, acting 
 naturally and hulependently, not thinking wholly of 
 himself, his dress, and manner, clahning for himself 
 th(! utmost freedom, eating, sleeping, walking, speaking 
 as best jdcased him, threw aside some of the eccen- 
 tric Ities of fashion, and in so doing to the unen- 
 franchised appeai'cd eccentric. Leaving the marts of 
 Itusiiiess for church worship, the same eccentricity of 
 thought, or lack of it, is manifest, though in fonn 
 devotion was not greatly changed. In such a so( ietv 
 it is but natural that from tribunals of justice, as well 
 as from its ministers, some part of that severe decorum 
 wliich characterizes nuire staid and superstitious com- 
 munities should be re noved. 
 
584 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AXD COURT SCETTES. 
 
 Wlience arose, carrying in some things their Hberty 
 into Hbertinisni, the not unusual sights at one time of 
 chief justice and courtesan promenadmg the busiest 
 thoroughfare in company ; of supreme judge seated 
 behind a gambling table dealing faro, arid surrounded 
 by lawyers, politicians, prostitutes, and friends; of 
 supreme judge drinking to drunkenness, carousing 
 all night in elegantly furnished halls of infamy, fight- 
 ing duels, assaulting citizens, and burdened so heavily 
 with debts incurred by licentious living as to become 
 the willing tool of whomsoever would buy him up 
 and offer him for cancellation by the easy though 
 conscienceless method of warped judicial decisions. 
 
 While such a state of things existed at the fountain- 
 head of justice, we should not be surprised to fintl its 
 Icnver channels somewhat turbid in their flow. While 
 Mammon and Gannnon sat upon the supreme bench 
 it was not difficult to determine what sort of ]>lead- 
 ing was required to win a cause before that tribunal. 
 While he who durinij the morning hours listened as 
 associate justice to the cases brought before one of 
 the upper courts of the metropolis, in tlie afternoon 
 stood by and witnessed a deliberate murder, of which 
 he had foreknowledije and was accessory, beinir the 
 murderer's friend he would naturally hurry him to 
 prison as to a place of safety. 
 
 Between these two extremes of the best and the 
 worst, in the city and in the country, every shade of 
 character was to be found among the judiciary of 
 California. Nor did personal immorality by any 
 means imply judicial corrujjtion. At a time when the 
 female element was meagre, deference was paid by all 
 classes to the female form, even thout'h its dress cov- 
 ered corruption; nor was it very damaging to any 
 man's reputation, when everything was public, to bo 
 seen in conversation with a public woman. 
 
 Gambling and drinking saloons were places of 
 
 ?ublic resort; all classes there met and mingled freely, 
 'he person so prudish as to hold aloof from such 
 
EARLY CALIFORNIA JURISTS. 
 
 5S6 
 
 places made few friends. There was nothing dis- 
 reputable at that time in being seen in a saloon, 
 and a man would be regarded mean who enjoyed 
 night afte r ilight the shelter, light, and society of the 
 place without ever spending a dollar there. Judges 
 of course frequented drinking saloons; men who 
 never patronized such places were seldoin made 
 judges. A judge's morals were his own, they said ; his 
 olHcial acts alone belonged to the public. 
 
 The men of chivalry, who indulged in the duels 
 and street encounters, being of all men devoid of the 
 pure article, were of all others the most sensitive to 
 what they called their honor. It so happened among 
 tliose of them who were judges that their ideas of 
 lionor accorded with equitable decisions; though like 
 many professors in otiuT directions their practice was 
 ill no wise hi keeping with their tenets. But for the 
 most part chivalrous judges, though they might in- 
 dulge freely in drunkenness, gambling, and licentious- 
 n ss, when no one was at hand to bribe them, were 
 just and equitable ma ^istrates. 
 
 It s;) happened again tliat the t rm gentleman im- 
 ])]lcd fair judgment ; though this by no means was 
 always the case. It was with them as with the pom- 
 pous and punctilious of other ages who had nothing 
 but their pride to be proud of As to what consti- 
 tutes a gentleman depends enthely upon time and 
 place. (Toorgo the Fourth of England, voluptuary, 
 (k'l):mcheo, (Egotist, and false-hearted, was called in 
 his day the first gentleman in Europe. Later, dandy- 
 ism, with some intellectual pretensions, in the person 
 of the Frenchman Couiit d' Orsav. becanu^ the ortho- 
 dox type. To dress well, to iltie well, to swim, shoot, 
 box, wrestle, and play cricket well, were the accom- 
 plishments that crowned the gentleman. Lord Ches- 
 terfield's gentlemen were made of manners and hollow- 
 lieartechiess. California's judges were all of them 
 gentlemen, howsoever corrupt or debased they were. 
 
 While ill tiie cities, and in the higlier courts of the 
 
 ! 
 
R86 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 more settled localities, court proceedings and rulings 
 were governed by precedents and legislative en- 
 actments; throughout the nining regi >u, or other 
 distant or thinly populated districts, common sense 
 took the place of connnon law, wliUe statute-hooks 
 and precedents were flung to the wind as unworthy a 
 sane man's consideration. Such equipage might do 
 for jurists like "tliat bloated p]iil()st>[)her, wlio mis- 
 took declamation for eloquence, and affectation for feel- 
 ing " as Lamartine said of Kaynal; but then if tiiey 
 could not reach the truth witJiout the aid of boolcs 
 and hook-leariung, tliey could not with them. Away 
 from their bit and harness, these jurists of all-domi- 
 nating rules and statutes were like that blindly wan- 
 dering wisdom which looks one way and walks 
 another, and when asked a question, and no hooks are 
 at hand, nil illcif, or like Ignaro, foster-father of 
 Argoglia, answers "I cannot tell." 
 
 And they were riglit. Simple and ignorant judges 
 of simple differences between ignorant men, the sini- 
 ]>lost and most direct method was the best for them. 
 All the while, be it remembered, these uncouth jurists 
 were in [)raetical sagacity no whit behind their more 
 intellectually cultured brethren of the woolsack. It 
 was a broad unfolding in the evolutioi. of jurispru- 
 dence, that such an element as that which infested the 
 foothills from 1848 to I80G sliould be so easily and so 
 thoroughly kept in order by their own regulations, 
 carried out by men chosen from among their own 
 number, and with little aid from statutory enactments. 
 
 As in religion so in jurisprudence, meaningless forms 
 are beccnning obsolete, and substance is the tliir.;- 
 considered. Much superfluous tackling has alread,- 
 fallen from court proceedings, and there is more which 
 might profitably be stripped from them; that tlio 
 well-aj)pointed library of an attorney in fair practice 
 must number its volumes by tens of tliousands, and 
 that rulings and decisions nmst be compiled from 
 those who sat and judged thirty or three liundnd 
 
FORMS AND IRECEDENTS. 
 
 587 
 
 years ago, suggests a further advancement in this 
 (lircctiou. What we want is less precedent ; in rcHgion 
 less of Patristic dogmas, and in law less reverting* to 
 the past for the solution of questions which, if we 
 have availed ourselves of our advantages we should 
 understand better than our forefathers. 
 
 Knowledge, either in law or elsewhere, is not 
 alone a looking back, but an eternity of inquiry 
 roncerning not only what has been but what is and 
 sliall be. When we can no more conceive of a bound- 
 {Mv to knowledge than we can conceive of a boundary 
 to space, it is not wise in us to revivify by all our 
 powers dead or dying formulas; for if such a course 
 does not lead to the nihilism of Georgius of Leontini, 
 there is at all events but little progress in it. This 
 some (^fcoruius after all is not altonethor wron<jc in his 
 iittirmation that nothing is, or if it bo that it cannot 
 bo known. Our knowlcd«je comes from nothing and 
 ends in nothing. "Philosophy begins in wonder," 
 f^ays IMuto, " for Iris is the child of Thaumas." 
 Nature-worship is tlie mythoh)gy of science, and the 
 myths of Greece reduced to system in tlie writings of 
 llesiod and Homer enfolded the germ of all that 
 followed. The i)ursuit of knowledge is a journey 
 from the sublime to the ridiculous. Tlie end of 
 knowledge is to plunge us yet deeper in the gulf of 
 ignorance. The progress of religion is from the 
 mighty and majestic gods of Homer to the buffoons 
 burlesqued by Lurian; from the deities of savagism, 
 moving clouds, speaking thunder, smiling sunshine 
 and soft kissing breezes, tlirougli monotheism and 
 Christianity to the infidelity generated by seien( e. 
 Science in its turn on every side soon strikes tlie un- 
 knowable, and throws back the inquirer after ultimate 
 truth upon something akin to nihiHsm. In the 
 progress of literature, as elsewhere, we see the same 
 ])rin('iple manifest. In its earliest stages it assumes 
 the form of epic or lyric poetry, of tragedy and his- 
 toric narrative — the bloody and the real ; later, with 
 
588 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND CJURT SCENES. 
 
 a higher intellectuality, we have comedy and romance 
 — the contemplative and ideal. 
 
 Now the day is coming when law shall find wisdom 
 in less learning; when from the mountains of ancient 
 and accunmlative legal lore, as from thg Cretan 
 labyrinth for the imprisonment of the Minotaurs, 
 the thread of simple justice shall be followed until 
 the searcher for the direct path shall be brought 
 out into the clear light of open day. Then it will 
 be manifest to all that between the natural rights 
 of man as arrived at by the gold-diggers,' and right 
 as proclaimed by the law and tauglit by tribunals, 
 the difference is less real than pretended ; that the 
 justice of the miners, like their gold, though it liad 
 not the statutory stamp upon it was none the less 
 pure metal. 
 
 Mucli truth is treasured up in proverbs and legal 
 maxims, and yet what oceans of absurdities are swal- 
 lowed when codified under the fornmlas of truth ! 
 There are few of them but would fit mankind as well 
 reversed, that is, if made to say cxac\.ly the op}>(;site 
 of what they do say. I have often followed as a pas- 
 time this reversing of maxims, and the effect some- 
 times is marvelous. What matchless subtlety of 
 thought do we find in words thus broutjht out, such 
 as. An honest god the noblest work t)f man. Policy is 
 the best honesty, and a host of others; while for tht 
 
 multitude of such 
 
 dess 
 
 meanmgiess expressions 
 
 as 
 
 Live 
 
 each day as though it were your last," we find by al- 
 lowing the mind to dwell upon it for a moment that 
 not the thinor said was meant at all, but somethinu 
 eke. No one could make a greater mistake than by 
 following literally such injunctions. Bnt thry are 
 not intended to be taken literally; all that isnuaiit 
 is to live well every day. Then would it not be better 
 to say so, and not to elevate into a maxim, and innnor- 
 talize in the name of golden truth, brazen absurdity. 
 Better the sage remark of the crank, Don Quixote, 
 "Everyone is like everybody else, only a great deal 
 
 worse 
 societ 
 sions 
 Thi 
 and n 
 man, ^ 
 logical 
 court 
 I)rotec 
 It is 
 Wiiere 
 Nveapoi 
 btjen ei 
 gradua 
 Duri 
 nocessii 
 lower c 
 side of , 
 bing ju 
 ^.lake o 
 posing 
 formity 
 honest, 
 otiier ol 
 Any on( 
 years of 
 leadintr 
 variably 
 sliootincr 
 f )r drawi 
 tlie law 
 those wh 
 class was 
 ^vhy wa« 
 tliose ma 
 shelter tl 
 the confl] 
 from one 
 and socia 
 
LAW AND ORDER. 
 
 worse"; or that of any onr of tlie several classes in 
 society, each of which has a series of formal ex[)re8- 
 sions containing little or no meaning. 
 
 Thus we sec there is much in forms and precedents 
 and maxims which, if blotted from the memory of 
 man, would leave the course of justice more clear and 
 logical. There is nmch cumbersome machinery in 
 court procedure which retards rather than assists in 
 j)rotecting the innocent and punishing the guilty. 
 
 It is undoubtedly true that too often in our courts, 
 where reason and sound argument should be the only 
 weapons, coarse expletives and pliysical violence have 
 \Kien employed, but happily the logic of brute force is 
 gradually becoming unfashionable. 
 
 During the time when vigilance committees were a 
 necessity, it is a most significant fact that besides tlie 
 l;)wer class of evil-minded persons marshalled on tiie 
 side of law and order were all licentious judges, stab- 
 bing jurists, duelling editors, and fighting lawyers. 
 }<Iake out lists of the individual members of the op- 
 posing factions and you will find with singular uni- 
 formity one composed of persons quietly disposed, 
 honest, industrious, intelligent, and virtuous, and the 
 other of quarrelsome, irate, waspish work-despisers. 
 Any one who will go carefully over the first seven 
 years of the annals of the state, as recorded by the 
 leading writers of the time, will find it almost in- 
 variably the case, that those officials prominent in 
 shooting-scrapes, those lawyers fined most frequently 
 f)r drawing deadly weapons in courts, those limbs of 
 the law who of all otiiers oftenest broke tlie law, 
 those whom only the law was made to punish— this 
 class was usually loudest in support of law. And 
 why was this ? Briefly, for two reasons. First, 
 these manipulators of the law could tlie more easily 
 slielter their misdeeds under the law ; and secondly, 
 the conflict, on one side at least, had degenerated 
 from one for principle to one politically, sectionall}', 
 and socially partisan. Some were made to govern, 
 
600 
 
 COURTS OF JU.TICE AND COURT SCKNES. 
 
 otliors to 1)0 governed, was the doctrine held by law 
 and order. 
 
 In a f(^w instances, before the year 1850 liad expired, 
 justices of the peace and judges had been impeached 
 and driven from their seats by the people. But com- 
 pared with those who at this time were accustomed, 
 eitlier openly or in secret, to take illegal fees, to ex- 
 tort, ac( ept bribes, or otherwise violate their oath of 
 oftice, the number punished was insignificant. The 
 money-makers had no time to chastise their criminals, 
 to say nothing of judges. True, there was the short, 
 quick way, tlie only practicable way in ordinary cases; 
 but then they did not exactly like to hang judges, 
 "as it might be ag'in law, like," though tliey often 
 tlireatencd to do so. 
 
 In tlie first nmnber of the Califomua Star, published 
 nt Yerba Buona January 9, 1847, are the following 
 pertinent remarks on the custom of smoking in court: 
 ''Among the many good rules adopted by our late al- 
 calde, and broken by the present one — not to nieiition 
 the hio'h-handed violation of the dearest ritjhts of 
 freemen, a refusal of trial by jury, of which hereafter 
 —is that of smoking in the court-room, and this, too, 
 practised almost solely by the judge and his clerk, 
 wlio are more than half their time puffing forth clouds 
 of smoke from their 'long nines,' greatly to the an- 
 noyance of persons having business in court, particu- 
 larly those not in tlie habit of smoking. Besides, I 
 would ask, does it look very dignified for a judge to 
 be delivering a decision in an important case with a 
 cigar in his mouth, stopping every half minute in his 
 address to give a pufi' or two?" 
 
 The following scene in court, which happened at 
 Ran Francisco in February 1848, is but one of a class. 
 Two individuals met in a liquor saloon, drank, quar- 
 relled, fought. One received a stab in the breast. 
 The other was arrested by a posse of citizens, and taken 
 
AN INTIMIDATED JUDOE. 
 
 BOl 
 
 before the magistrate, who, after an examination, 
 liinted of quarters in the ealaboose. The oatha with 
 wliieh the prisoner interhirded liis speeeli may bo 
 omitted witlumt h)S8. 
 
 Prisoner (to tlie judge). ''This is a bailable case, 
 sir, and you can't put me thar." 
 
 Magistrate. "It is n«)t a bailable case, sir, and — " 
 
 Prisoner (interrupting). "I know its a bailable 
 case; I am somethinij: of a lawyer if I am dressed in 
 l)U(ks)\in. You can't put mo in the calaboose, sir." 
 
 jSIagistrate. " Stop, sir, stop, you will have to go 
 to prison if — " 
 
 l^iisoner. "I go to prison? No, sir! and you 
 can't put me thar I" 
 
 ^Magistrate. "Yes, sir. We'll seel" 
 
 I'risoner. "We'll seel and if you go to put me in 
 tliat thar calaboose you can't live in tlils place. Yes, 
 sir, I know you, you are a rascal, and you — " 
 
 Magistrate. " Be silent sir 1 Will you hear me?" 
 
 Prisoner (in high fever). " Yes, sir, I'll hear vou: vou 
 are no gentleman 1 You can't put me hi that prison; 
 \ou are a villain. Don't you dare to put me in that 
 jirison. I never was in prison yet, and if you put me 
 tliar and want to live you had better leave this place 1" 
 
 The judge, who was scarcely fit for the emergency, 
 not relishing the aspect of affairs, would have kept 
 the prisoner confined without sending him to jail had 
 not the citizens and mendiers of that town council 
 interfered and compelled him to do so. 
 
 Early in 1849 there was a man of somewhat intel- 
 ](>rtual aspect, fair address, free and easy manner, and 
 that shrewd, practical instinct which in those days 
 passed current for its full worth, who stood about the 
 streets in San Francisco selling peanuts. Although 
 tlie person was greatly superior to his calling, he 
 seemed by no means ashamed of it. Before he came to 
 California he was — nobody knew what. No one knew 
 or cared to know who any person was before he came 
 
 III 
 
 r ■;:<; 
 
 'l ,!■■ 
 
 ■ if 
 
 
502 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 hither. It was enough now to be of California; a 
 now exiHte ICC dutecl from the lanUhig at the whurf in 
 fcJan Francisco. 
 
 This peanut-sollc>r may have be' n a doctor, jud«jfo, 
 drayman, or printer btf)re cominj^ hero; now ho was 
 a business citizen of Cahfornia's embryo metropohs, 
 His business was a good one; nay more, it was lari;e 
 and profitable. There was no such thing at a small 
 business in those days; scarcely such a thing as an 
 unpr>)fitable business. One might lose by fire or 
 8peculati:)n, but every well-managed legitimate buwl- 
 noss w.is very remunerative. Even peanuts paid. 
 At a dollar a cup-full when one roasted them one's 
 self, and passed them out lively, one could easily 
 afford to dress fairly and board at a five-dollar-a-day 
 hotel as our friend did. 
 
 The i)earmt-merchant made many friends. He 
 seemed as nmch at homo in the best society as in the 
 worst; he was well informed upon all the leading 
 topics of the day, read the news from all parts of the 
 world on the arrival of every steamer, and was .it 
 home in conversation equally with the lawyer, me- 
 chanic, or petty politician. It seemed never to occur 
 to him, it scarcely seemed to occur to others, that 
 there was anythir.g about his calling low or humiliat- 
 ing. Ho had come to California, as had all the rest, 
 to make money; and like a wise man he engaged in 
 that which oflered the most flatteriiig inducements. 
 Yanderbilt himself could not have found a more 
 lucrative occupation with so siuall an outlay and ri^^k. 
 
 But the peanut poddler was n (t without his quid 
 ambition. His traffic had taken him many times a 
 day to the little court-house cpposite the plaza, and 
 he was upon the most easy terms with the alcalde, 
 clerk, and constable, besides the lawyers and hangers- 
 on about the place. Being a man of intelligent ob- 
 servation, he had noticed how the increasing business 
 crowded upon the ancient and yet unawakened mag- 
 istrate of Spanisli associations, and that although the 
 
THE PEANUT SELLER. 
 
 quality of the justice there administered was none of 
 tlio best, it usually coniman led a ^imd price. 
 
 An idea struck hiui. He would start a court and 
 he a judj^e himself He believed he C(»uld make a 
 hotter thing of it than of peanuts. He would do 
 it. But how? Easy enough. He knew tlie ring- 
 loaders of the Hounds; knew intimately Sam Roberts, 
 St John, and many more of them. He had treated 
 them to peanuts fifty times, ai\d had often talked with 
 thorn by the hour about politics, raids, gold-mines, 
 and tJie expulsion of the Chilenos. Then there were 
 his lawyer friends, his court friends, and a host of 
 others; and as he had saved a little money, the tlung 
 was not hard to do ; and it was done. 
 
 Indeed the business of young San Francisco had 
 so incroased, and was still so rapidly growing, that 
 tlie organization of another court, superior to tliat of 
 tlie alcalde, seemed a necessity; and backed by his 
 political friends, the peanut merchant with no great 
 difficulty prevailed upon the governor to authorize 
 liiin to establish such a tribunal. 
 
 The peanut peddler was now William B. Almond, 
 Esquire, judge of the court of First Instance, with 
 civil jurisdiction in cases involving sums exceeding 
 Olio hundred dollars. His court was held in a little 
 slianty, called the old school-house, situated (m the 
 soutliWost comer of the plaza, on the Clay strtxjt side, 
 near the Monumental engine-house, while the alcalde 
 still remained at his old quarters near the southeast 
 corner of Washington and Kearny streets fronting 
 the plaza. 
 
 Tlie 12th of December, 1849, saw Judge Almond's 
 court open and ready for business. Salary was a 
 tiling unknown at that time among court officials. 
 Judges, sheriffs, clerks, constables, all drew coinpensa- 
 ti(»ii for their services in fees, generally fixed by 
 tlioiiiselves. Running a court was a speculation, like 
 running a hotel, or a store ; it was conducted to make 
 money, and was valued at what it would pay. To 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 88 
 
 B ii ! 
 
 
 tm 
 
Hi 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCEXES. 
 
 make its decisions valid certain elections or appoint- 
 ments were necessary, and these were obtained as the 
 exigencies of the times seemed to require. It was 
 not until several years later that all the municipal of- 
 ficers were put upon a salary basis ; nor until the offi- 
 ces of sheriff, tax-collector, and ihe like were esti- 
 mated as worth to the occupant forty thousand dol- 
 lars per annum. These tempting baits were the 
 source of great evils, both in the manner of obtaining 
 office, and in the execution of its duties. 
 
 Behold now the mercantile grub transformed to 
 winged justice. All hail to the rising sun I Money 
 and merriment were the prominent characteristics of 
 this tribunal. As a matter of course the mill nmst 
 gnnd steadily, and with tolerable fairness ; otherwife 
 the institution would acquire an evil reputation, which, 
 like a gambling-shop famous for its cheating, would 
 repel litigants, and with them their dollars. Tliere 
 was no harm, however, in having it thoroughly under- 
 stood that ui this court time was money. Tliis was 
 no less a desirable feature with suitors than with the 
 judges; those were busy days, and no one wished to 
 wrangle long over a few hundred dollars, when prob- 
 ably they could make twice the amount during the 
 same time by attending to their legitimate business. 
 Money was the burden of Judge Almond's sittings ; 
 no cnminal cases were allowed. Ounces were the 
 sharp-edged Al Sirat which should bridge the infeli- 
 cities of law to the heaven of rest beyond. 
 
 Seated sidewise by the comer of a table, exposing 
 a profile view of a sharp-featured decisive face, grown 
 somewhat stern by reason of its owner's elevation, 
 and thin, perhaps from care and new responsibility; 
 seated in tlie favorite American posture, balancing lii^^ 
 tipped-back chair with feet planted against the wall 
 higlier than his head, paring his finger-nails, which 
 seemed to grow according to the volume of busin<\ss 
 presented before the court, Judge Almond was pre- 
 pared to listen to all who should come to him. And 
 
JUDGE ALMOND'S COURT. 
 
 5d5 
 
 when case after case was called, iniperturbably ho sat, 
 like Olympian Jove weighing in the balance the fates 
 of Greek and Trojan, with no change of occupation, 
 nor shiftings of position — only from his mouth shot 
 thunderbolts of judgment, short, sharp and decisive. 
 
 In front of the table were usually three or four 
 clerks and reporters, back of whom were litigants, 
 lawyers, and witnesses, while a crowd of spectatora 
 and hangers-on filled the remainder of the room. The 
 nuisance of a jury was seldom tolerated in this court. 
 Decisions were reached partly by evidence and partly 
 by intuition. The judge did what was right, as Soph- 
 ocles said of --lEschylus, without knowing it. Sel- 
 dom did he hear a case throuiih, but wlien lie thouijht 
 he fairly comprehended it, he directed the clerk to 
 enter judgment and call another case; and often tlieso 
 summary proceedings would continue until nine or ten 
 o'clock at night. 
 
 Now it must not be inferred from all this that jus- 
 tice was not administered in this court, or that it was 
 more uncertain here than elsewhere, or that it was 
 more uncertain under tlie free and informal rulings of 
 Almond, the quondam peanut-seller, than it would 
 have been had Mansfield, or Marshall, or Stepliens, 
 or Story been seated in his place. In balancing the 
 short, sharp encounters of busy men undergoing new 
 and abnormal exi)orience3, their learning vvoukl have 
 hampered them like superfluous equipment, while tlie 
 clear, free judgment of Ahnond directed his finger 
 hnmodiately to the root o** a difficulty, whicii miglit 
 1)0 then eradicated witl) )ut the aid of precedent. All 
 tlieir skilled intelligence would be employed in fitting 
 experience to forms, while he had only the tiling itself 
 to deal with. 
 
 Almond determined the causes brought before him 
 quickly, courageously, righteously, liude, uncouth, 
 illitero*. w far as law learning went, there was a 
 directness about him that suited the tenq)er of the 
 time. Everybody drank in those days; at lo.i.st all 
 
 
 ■ ';!! ' 
 
 "t':iW 
 
 m 
 
 -< m 
 
COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 who wished could do so, as I have said, without los- 
 ing caste. Almond saw nothing hampering t(j the 
 wheels of justice in his drinking, provided he did not 
 drink too much, or alone; if he drank at all, he would 
 do so openly, before all the world. Yet he was no 
 soi faineant in his rulings; it was generally the 
 opinion among Californians of that day that forms of 
 law were rather a curse than a blessing, at least to 
 tliis special community. 
 
 Moreover, he was equal to the emergency. What 
 he was before he sold peanuts, as I observed, nobody 
 knew, except that he was not a lawyer and had never 
 studied law. But he had somewhere gained experi- 
 ence, had learned to know men and the right and 
 wrong of things, judging from a natural and common- 
 sense standpoint. Says John Morlcy, writing of 
 George III., "There is nothing more fatal, either in 
 private life or in the larger affairs of state, than for 
 an incompetent man to grasp a principle of action that 
 is too big for him." Herein lies the secret of success 
 ill any walk in life. Almond grasped the running of 
 a law court as completely as he had grasped the pea- 
 nut occupation. He was by no means an admirable 
 character, yet he was for that emergency a good judge. 
 He was as full of oaths as Charles Lamb was of puns, 
 and his blasphemy was not of the most refined qualit}'. 
 It is well to note how such a person could place him- 
 self in such a position among the intelligent people of 
 California and maintain it, still holding their respect. 
 Yet he was an honest man, and judged equitably 
 between men who were in no humor to be trifiod 
 with. Had such not been his character and repu- 
 tation, the frame school-house would not long have 
 been Judge Almond's courtroom. 
 
 The judge was coarse rather than otherwise in his 
 tastes. He used to delight in worrying the poor and 
 pompous attorneys, and after bringing them to grief 
 to laugh at their chagrin. To their displays of elo- 
 quence he was profoundly iuditferent; their legal 
 
 knowh 
 
 only vi 
 
 and to 
 
 (men I 
 
 niony I 
 
 and his 
 
 One 
 
 ing jud: 
 
 of a shi 
 
 during 1 
 
 s(3nger, 
 
 the vail 
 
 sented, t, 
 
 to tell \« 
 
 sible. 1 
 
 ''tiier wi 
 
 evidence 
 
 plain si I 
 
 tliorougl 
 
 "Verv 
 
 tainly he 
 
 case?" 
 
 "That 
 "and wo 
 Ji warded 
 c'ase." 
 
 In a m 
 occurxod 
 liavo \rM ;■ 
 i>u e ;-'.s r 
 
 ♦ 'luitably 
 law, coulc 
 Half the. 
 iiig the d 
 services, a 
 Frank 
 
 
 "e this 
 'ved 1 
 
SUMMARY PROCEEDINGS. 
 
 607 
 
 knowledge was wholly thrown away on him ; those 
 only who, with homely logic, spoke plainly, briefly, 
 and to the point might hope to move him with words. 
 Often before the first witness had concluded his testi- 
 mony his quick discei'nment had reached an opinion, 
 and his mind once made up, nothing could shake it. 
 
 One day a physician appeared before the court ask- 
 ing judgment for five hundred dollars from the captain 
 of a ship for attending such of the crew as were sick 
 during the voyage. The dtx;tor had shipped as pas- 
 senger, and the demand was widely at variance with 
 the value of his services. The case was briefly pre- 
 sented, and a witness called whom the judge instructed 
 to tell what he knew about it in as few words as pos- 
 sll)le. This done, the plaintiff's attorney called an- 
 other witness, but the judge informed him that further 
 evidence was unnecessary. The witness had told a 
 ])lain simple story, the court understood the case 
 thoroughly, and its mind was made up. 
 
 "Very well," said the counsel, "but you will cer- 
 tainly hear us speak as to the points of law in the 
 case ? " 
 
 " That would be entirely useless," replied the judge, 
 "and wo have no time to waste. The plaintitt" is 
 awarded one hundred and fifty dollars ; call the next 
 case." 
 
 In a mf)re pretentious court this case would have 
 orcup",d one, two, or three days, and might easily 
 hai'o IrMn postponed from time to time so as to con- 
 s;ii e ;« nany weeks or rionths. Half an hour suf- 
 ficed Jii 'jje .Mmond to dispose of it as fairly and 
 cijuitabiy c^s? anyone, however learned or skilled in the 
 law, could have done in six weeks or six months. 
 Half the award went to the plaintiff^s attorney, leav- 
 iii,i( the doctor, even at that rate, well paid for his 
 services, and there was an end of it. 
 
 Frank Turk on a certain cxncasion having business 
 1>< *" "e this court, with profound respect on entering 
 i< . 'vod his hat, a broad-brimmed, pointed-crown, 
 
698 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 Guy Fawkes affair, and laid it carefully on the floor 
 three or four yards from the judge's feet. Wrapped 
 ill meditation upon the intricacies of the case before 
 him, and following his usual practice, his honor un- 
 consciously made Turk's hat a mark for his tobac<'c 
 tainted ejections. A head-dress of that kind and 
 quality was worth two or three ounces, and Turk was 
 particularly proud of his hat, as well as sensitive as 
 to its treatment He sought to catch the judge's eye, 
 coughed, moved his hat as he thought beyond the 
 reach of danger, moved it twice, thrice ; but ever the 
 somnambulic eye of the judge followed it, and ever 
 with unerr j ?i*m the discharge from his mouth did 
 iilthy execui. Turk could endure it no longer. 
 
 Boiling with iiiuignation he stepped up to the judge, 
 shook his fist in his face, and fairly yelled his curses. 
 This demonstration and the roar which followed 
 awoke the judge to a realizing sense of things, and he 
 laughed with the rest. 
 
 It was a dry business listening to dry cases, and 
 spurting tobacco-juice at a mark across the room by 
 the hour, and the judge was not the man to sit 
 and suffer through the day. He was now a groat 
 man; but great men grow thirsty. All great men 
 in California at that time were th'^sty men. In- 
 deed thirst was a mark of greatness, and the more 
 thirsty a judge the more was he esteemed fit for tie 
 position. There was nothing at all strange then tLat 
 Judge Almond should pause occasionally in his pro- 
 ceedings to quench his thirst. And this was done witli 
 characteristic openness, though not in defiance of any 
 sense of public propriety. There were always those 
 about the court, accuser and accused, counsel, jury- 
 men witnesses, ready to drink as often as the judge 
 desired, especially if some beside themselves paid for 
 it. Hence there were no decisions emanating from 
 that bench which met with greater generrl approval 
 than when the judge paused in the midst of a case, 
 and raising himself to his full height announced, 
 
A THIRSTY COURT. 
 
 800 
 
 " The court's dry ; the court's adjourned ; let's take a 
 drhik 1" 
 
 Whether or not this might be called a court of 
 original jurisdiction, it was certainly a court of origi- 
 nal rulings. The witness who asked to be excused 
 from giving bail for his appearance when required was 
 answered: "Yes, on payment of the customary fee 
 of one ounce." If an attorney wished to make a mo- 
 tion the judge replied, " The motion is granted on 
 payment of the fee, one ounce." Either side could 
 have a case postponed on payment of one ounce ; or if 
 both parties to the suit requested it, then each m ist 
 pay into court an ounce of gold-dust. Sometimes the 
 judge's table wouivl be half covered with gold-dust, 
 and Judge Almond's ounce became a byword. It 
 was by a sort of argument urn ad ujnoraiitiam that the 
 judge arrived at this decision. Himself ignorantof the 
 fixcts, if the order asked for by a responsible attorney 
 was not proper his adversary would quickly appear and 
 ask to have it cancelled; and then the ounces 1 Never 
 was there a court in California where injunctions 
 could be so easily obtained or so quickly set aside. 
 
 It caimot be denied that Judge Almond, between 
 haste and an eye to the main chance, sometimes 
 strained his opinions to meet emergencies. During 
 the winter of 1849 a Sacramento river boatman at 
 the mouth of Suisun bay picked up a dismantled 
 launch and brouijht it to San Francisco. There be- 
 ing on board of it eight or ten bales of goods the 
 boatman claimed salvage, which the owner of the 
 goods deemed exorbitant and refused to pay. The 
 case came up before Judge Almond, who after one of 
 liis usual quick and careful hearings awarded the 
 boatman $100 for his trouble; but learning before 
 judgment was entered that the boatman's coun- 
 sel fee and court costs amounted to $200, he raised 
 die judgment to that amount. The owner still re- 
 fusing to pay, the goods were sold, and being dam- 
 aged brought only $150, whereupon a caiii and horse 
 
 ¥ 
 
000 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 belonging to the owner of the goods were sold to 
 make up the remainder. Here was a case where 
 even the machinery of Judge Almond's court proved 
 sufficient to defeat the ends of justice; for the boat- 
 man who saved the goods got nothing, while the 
 owner was compelled to pay more than their value for 
 the saving of them. 
 
 With John W. Geary as alcalde in 1850, and a 
 city charter and two boards of aldermen, a grand jury 
 was in order in the pretentious town of San Fran- 
 cisco. Very respectable men were selected, and pro- 
 ceedingrs were conducted in staid New England man- 
 uer. Particularly was the oath administered de- 
 voutlj' and solemnly, every witness being required to 
 kiss the book with reverential demeanor. Frivolity 
 and blasphemy had disgraced our tribunals long 
 enough, thought the new city's pro tempore masters. 
 A healthful example should now be set. Their delib- 
 erations over, the jury were about to be called into 
 court to receive their discharge, when unluckily one 
 of their number, cursed with evil curiosity, picked up 
 the book upon which all had been so furiously swear- 
 ing, and opened it when, O mores I it was Tupper's 
 Proverbial Philosophy. Now to let it be known that 
 they, a genuine Yankee jury, anti-chivalry, anti-slav- 
 ery, anti-law-and-order, anti-swearers and tobacco- 
 chewers, men of clean white shirts and consciences, 
 Sunday-school men, decent in all things, men of mark 
 on Battery and Front streets, men who never in- 
 dulged in any drink stronger than hard cider, and if 
 they ever drove out at all it was always with one 
 horse to four persons — that these prim puritans' 
 sons should so far demean themselves, their ante- 
 cedents and their surroundings, as to mistake the 
 sickly sentimentalism of the maledict Martin for the 
 new testament, was pitiful to contemplate. Had 
 it been only a Webster's Spelling Book there would 
 not attach to it so foul a disgrace, but Martin 
 
TUPPER OR THE NEW TESTAMENT. 
 
 601 
 
 Tapper's rhymes — ^the error could never be for- 
 
 given. 
 
 What should be done ? All their proceedings, so 
 far as the virtue of book in the administering of oaths 
 was concerned, were of course invalid. If the book 
 was essential to the sound administration of law, they 
 had signally failed in using, in place of the sacred 
 scriptures a volume of maudlin verses ; if the book is 
 not essential, then why add to the nmltitude of idle 
 forms by which justice is hampered ? The free and 
 easy tribunals of audacious rulings connnitted no such 
 stupid blunders as this. A long and solemn silence 
 followed this discovery, as the men of merchandise 
 gazed one upon another in blank chagrin. Finally an 
 intelligent juror of very respectable wealth opened his 
 mouth and slowly articulated, half soliloquizing: — "I 
 would not like wittingly to do such a thing ; my busi- 
 ness needs my attention ; we cannot well go over 
 these days of arduous labors ; an oath in the eyes of 
 the Almighty is equally binding, perhaps, whether 
 the swearer's hand rests on a Tupper or on a Paul, so 
 long as the man himself does not know it; the sacred- 
 ness of forms should be sustained and the etiquette of 
 courts preserved ; I think on the whole we had better 
 say nothing of this to the judge. If we keep the 
 secret to ourselves the oath is just as binding and the 
 law just as good as if the swearing had been done up- 
 on a veritable bible ; though it staggers me somewhat 
 to think to what use unlearned and ungodly jurists 
 might put this train of argument." So it was agreed 
 and so done. The jury went into court ; Alcalde 
 Geary complimented them after the usual fashion 
 for the faithful performance of their duties, a|X)logized 
 for his inability to pay their fees owing to the con- 
 spicuous emptiness of the city treasury, and discharged 
 them. 
 
 When the Jenny Lind theatre was metamorphosed 
 into a city hall there was quite a reform instituted in 
 
602 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 courtroom manners, coarse jesting, profane swearing, 
 and smoking were no longer permissible. An Irish 
 excursionist, on entering one of the rooms newly fitted 
 up for the district court, saw twelve pine sticks placed 
 in a row in front of the jurors' seats. Prompted by 
 curiosity he asked an attendant their significance and 
 use, and was informed that they were called desk-pro- 
 tectors, and that it was made part of his duty to pro- 
 vide whittling timber for the gentlemen of the jury. 
 
 It was said that McGowan, before coming to Cali- 
 fornia, was sentenced to the state prison of Pennsyl- 
 vania for the robbery of the Chester bank, and that 
 he was afterward pardoned by the governor on condi- 
 tion that he would leave the state. The fact is. Nod 
 forfeited his bail and was never pardoned. Many 
 criminals, however, have been set at liberty on these 
 conditions, which course is assuredly wrong on the 
 part of any community or nation except under extra- 
 ordinary circumstances. The only plea, on the part 
 of a judge or a ruler, for adopting such a course is 
 that in another country a criminal may reform and 
 live a virtuous life. But no matter how the penitent 
 may promise this is seldom the result. Far oftener 
 happens it that the pardoned, sent from a society 
 which knows and watches him, to one where he is 
 unknown and consequently may with greater safety 
 commit new villainies, enters upon a career of wicked- 
 ness wider than ever. Having served an apprentice- 
 ship and become skilled in crime in one place, he is 
 offered the most tempting facilities for profiting by liis 
 past experience, and for gaining the confidence of a 
 new community, where he may practise his profession 
 with the fullest success. A bad man, entering one 
 state from another, may rightly be sent back to tlie 
 place in which his wickedness was bred ; but to turn 
 him unwhipt upon the world is about as righteous as 
 to turn into your neighbor's vineyard the fox caught 
 in your own because you dislike to kill it. If any 
 
 count 
 inals 
 the n 
 own I 
 that 1 
 prim i 
 reprol 
 their i 
 We 
 seat II 
 chanofc 
 nia coi 
 friend 
 Doubt] 
 though 
 man. 
 wicked 
 Solomo 
 One 
 had a c 
 landed 
 Horn, 
 their jo; 
 was ner 
 as mucli 
 The pas 
 and ask 
 case for 
 passengf 
 his seat, 
 a bull-d( 
 owner ol 
 laid his s 
 upon th€ 
 large rec 
 turned 
 seated hi 
 The h 
 seen that 
 
JUDGE NED McOOWAN. 
 
 608 
 
 country ever possessed the right to drive out its crim- 
 inals instead of punishhig them, it was California, for 
 the ruffians that infested her shores were not of lier 
 own breeding. They had come from older countries 
 that had no right to uncage them ; from communities 
 prim and puritanical, that regarded with pharisaical 
 reprobation the land upon which they had emptied 
 their prison-pens. 
 
 Well, Ned came to Cahfomia, and coolly took his 
 seat upon the judicial bench. Quite an agreeable 
 change from a Pennsylvania penitentiary to a Califor- 
 nia court ; as marked a change as was that of his 
 friend Casey, from Sing Singing to supervisoring. 
 Doubtless, now that he was justice of the peace, he 
 thought he was a better man, a reformed, a very good 
 man. The wicked poor he punished roundly ; the 
 wicked rich he made pay him handsomely. Could 
 Solomon have dealt out justice more wisely? 
 
 One day an attorney who had known him of old 
 had a case in his court. The lawyer had but lately 
 landed from a long and tedious passage round Cape 
 Horn. Some of his fellow-passengers had manifested 
 their joy at landing a little too loudly. Ned's party 
 was nervous in those days and abhorred noise almost 
 as much as hght. Besides, there was money in it. 
 The passengers were arrested for disorderly conduct, 
 and asked their friend the lawyer to conduct their 
 case for them. At the hour appointed for trial the 
 passengers' attorney entered the court-room and took 
 his seat. The judge had not yet arrived. Presently 
 a bull-doggish face emerged from a side door, the 
 owner of which stepped upon the judge's platform, 
 laid his sword cane and deeply craped white "plug" 
 upon the desk before him, took from his pocket a 
 large red handkerchief and blew loudly his short up- 
 turned nose, and with pugilistic grace and dignity 
 seated himself upon the bench. 
 
 The lawyer looked and was bewildered " I have 
 seen that face before," he thought. "Can it be? Surely 
 
 tn: ^li 
 
 1\ 
 
604 
 
 COURTS OP JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 I am not mistaken." Unable to restrain himself fur- 
 ther he arose to his feet. 
 
 "Is it Edward McGowan I have the honor of ad- 
 dressing i " blandly asked the attorney. *' That's my 
 name," said Ned, running his fingers through his 
 well-oiled hair. The attorney was satisfied. His 
 course was clear. Turning to his clients he said : 
 
 " Gentlemen, you have no use for me. You may 
 as well come down heavy with the coin first as last ; 
 it is your only chance." 
 
 Among other court notices in the San Francisco 
 Evening Picayune of the 20th of August, 1850, appears 
 the following : " Justice McGowan's court. An in- 
 teresting case came ofl* this morning, interesting be- 
 cause several interesting young ladies appeared as 
 witnesses. Thomas Jackson claimed $200 for wages 
 as barkeeper against Eliza Crothers and her husband, 
 Owen Crothers, and presented as evidence in his be- 
 half Miss Maloney and Miss Margaret Waring, two 
 young ladies of rare attractions and fashionable ap- 
 parel. The judge, of course, could do nothing less 
 than render a verdict in favor of the plaintiff." 
 
 Throughout the whole vigilance excitement of 
 1856 the courts were treated with profound respect 
 by the committee except in the few instances where 
 they interfered with the performance of the line of 
 duty marked out by the committee. Not so the 
 criminals, in whose estimation courts of justice seemed 
 to have sunk into contempt. On the 28th of May, 
 one John Brown, whose impudence was equalled only 
 by his egotism, was called from the mayor's dock. 
 
 " Who are you ? " demanded the mayor. 
 
 "A son of a sea cook," was the reply. 
 
 " What is your name ? " 
 
 " I am a sea-lawyer. I shipped before the mast as 
 a matter of form, but practised law in the forecastle 
 all the voyage." 
 
 " Was your court recognized by the captain ? " 
 
HUGH. C. MURRAY. 
 
 605 
 
 "Yes, about as much as yours is by the people." 
 
 ** Beware, sir. What have you to say for yourself? " 
 
 ** I deny the jurisdiction of the court," exclaimed 
 the prisoner, "to try the case, on the ground that this 
 court has no legal existence, the people having taken 
 the authority into their own hands. I am prepared 
 to argue the question if I be permitted." 
 
 "Have you no other defence?" 
 
 "Yes, I am a friend of Bill Lewis and Billy Mulli- 
 gan," said the prisoner. 
 
 "Why, the man is mad!" exclaimed the mayor; "I 
 will send you before the county judge to try the ques- 
 tion of your sanity." 
 
 "You will find I am not crazy." 
 
 "Silence, sirl" thundered the mayor. "Officer, 
 take him away." 
 
 Probably the most notorious of all our supreme 
 judges was Hugh C. Murray, a man utterly abandoned 
 iu character, immoral, venal, and thoroughly 
 corrupt. Even in those days of unblushing laxity 
 lie was prominent for impudent indecorum. Among 
 gamblers he was always at home, and could deal faro 
 with tlie best of them ; of drinking saloons he was a 
 constant habitue, having long scores at all the first- 
 class bar-rooms of Sacramento and San Francisco, for 
 liu seldom paid for his drinks, or for anything else 
 which could be obtahied upon credit. Shoulder- 
 strikers were his friends, lewd women his companions; 
 he was a Californian Caligula, with his adherent poli- 
 ticians, gladiators, and courtesans. 
 
 As supreme judge, the profits were surer than 
 ill dealing monte. To anyone having a suit which 
 sliould be brought before him, he did not hesitate de- 
 liliorately to become indebted, neither side ever ex- 
 pocting payment. Though wearing a bland and 
 l^olished exterior, inwardly he was as stumpy, mis- 
 shapen, and graceless as a Scandinavian troll. And 
 what made it the worse for the country was that 
 
 ^\ 
 
 m 
 
 
6M 
 
 COURTS OP JUSTTCE AND COmiT SCENES. 
 
 from his decisions there was no appeal — only from 
 Hugh Murray drunk to Hugh Murray sober We 
 say that he was so self-adaptive to circuinstanct s 
 as to quickly become a Californian ; but of a 
 truth such men were California ; they were one 
 with the land, and sea, and sky of the California 
 flush times ; it was they, with other elements inter- 
 mingled, who made the country what it was, and 
 without all of which California would not have been 
 California. 
 
 Murray was of the chivalrous school, genial, gentle- 
 manly, with a host of friends, and many admirers. 
 Like the epicurean Atticus, he was elegant in his 
 tastes and easy in his morals; selfish he was, as most 
 of us arc, but he was of the self-indulgent type ratht r 
 than that which fosters unkindness or indifference to 
 others. He was a very able judge, and even when 
 bought by one side, he could render a most plausible 
 opinion. Like some others of his class, he carried 
 with him a superstition which he called his honor, 
 which led him into eccentricities past the comprehen- 
 sion of ordinary minds. For example, though he 
 would gladly sell an opinion, he objected to giving the 
 transaction that name, and the money must not be 
 paid to him direct. Then again, after a debauch, ho 
 was particular about paying the gambler, but cared 
 little for the claims of the liquor and cigar-sollor, 
 while the tailor and launder he would not insult by 
 the offer of money. This disgraceful honor of his 
 compelled him to pay the man who took from him Ms 
 money giving him notliing in return, while to him 
 who of his substance clothes and feeds him he mav, 
 if it pleases him, give nothing. But when honor 
 compels a person who has received an injury to invite 
 the one who gave it to shoot him, we must not expc( t 
 to understand all its subtle ways, for undoubtedly tlic 
 honor these gentlemen are so careful to humor must 
 be a thing of importance. 
 
 A man of repartee was this chivalrous upright 
 
 judge 
 
 was n 
 
 "M 
 
 deal () 
 know 
 "Tl 
 
 ray, " 
 to stu< 
 upon I 
 before 
 fit of], 
 Suiti 
 f<>r a fa 
 utmost 
 tlie thj 
 would 
 But if J 
 Wlioljy 
 social (j 
 keep a 
 J>rove:it 
 o:i the ( 
 inari.st.K 
 often pi 
 do and a 
 sides. 
 
 Justic 
 
 like eve 
 
 greatly c 
 
 quiet iiil 
 
 uioniuni. 
 
 "lill, sev( 
 
 Were ope 
 
 the walls 
 
 others sta 
 
 met and 
 
 this traflS 
 
JUDICIAL COMPLAISAXCE. 
 
 607 
 
 judge. When candidate for the supreme bench, he 
 was met one day by Brannan. 
 
 "Murray," said Sam, "you must have a «lcviliah 
 deal of impudence to run for that office ; what do you 
 know about law?" 
 
 "That's just what's the matter, Sam," replied Mur- 
 ray, "I don't know nmch about it, and I am too lazy 
 to study. If I am elected, knowledge will llow in 
 upon mo spontaneously. Every lawyer who comes 
 before mo will be a teacher, and I will reap the bene- 
 fit of Ilia studies unworn by midnight vigils." 
 
 Suits involving large amounts, where both sides bid 
 for a ftvvorable decision, called forth Judge Murray's 
 utmost skill in legal legerdemain. It was scarcely 
 tlie thhig to take a bribe on both sides; honor 
 would not permit it ; with honor lost,, all is lost. 
 But if a litigant should make the judge n present 
 wholly on account of his genial company and fine 
 social qualities, or should the judge be asked to 
 keep a sum of money until called for, would this 
 l»roveiit an honorable judge from receiving a bribe 
 0:1 the other side? Such were the points the early 
 nui'ifistrates were obliged to decide, and wliich very 
 often proved a severe strain upon tlieir learning to 
 do and at the same time to satisfy and conciliate both 
 sides. 
 
 Justice at Sutter's fort during the autumn of 1848, 
 
 •1 ■ « • ■ • • • • 
 
 like everything m that vicinity at that time, was 
 greatly demoralized. Gold was the cause of it. The 
 quiet hills and sleepy canons suddenly became pande- 
 monium. Soon after the discovery of gold at Sutter's 
 mill, several stores f )r the sale of general merchandise 
 were opened at the fort. Some of these were within 
 the walls, occupying the angles of the enclosure, and 
 others standing without. Merchants and miners there 
 met and exchanged their commodities ; and as round 
 this traffic, like thirsty flocks about a spring, strag- 
 
6Q8 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 glers began to settle, two alcaldes were chosen, a first 
 and a second, following the Mexican fashion. 
 
 Among the storekeepers of the place was one 
 Pickett, afterward surnamed "the philosopher," so 
 that Philosopher Pickett, which, indeed, is but 
 another name for Fool Pickett, became famous 
 throughout California. Now Pickett unfortunately 
 shot a man dead in self-defense ; and Pickett must be 
 tried for it. It was the duty of Bates, first alcalde, 
 to place the homicide under arrest. But Pickett was 
 a man of pronounced proclivities; and to handle hiiu 
 roughly was regarded a little dangerous. Bates 
 promptly resigned office. The second alcalde, Fowler, 
 was then urged to perform the same duty, and he 
 also resigned. 
 
 Sam Brannan, the man of emergencies, and one 
 who feared neither philosopher nor fool, was then the 
 chief merchant of the place, his store bemg in an 
 adobe building east of the fort. Brannan called a 
 meeting of the people to consider the matter. This 
 was before the days of popular action jure divino, when 
 to punish informally was infinitely worse than not to 
 punish at all ; hence it was thought necessary to hold 
 an election for the purpose of filling the vacancies 
 caused by the resignation of the trembling officials. 
 One alcalde, however, was deemed sufficient, and 
 Brannan was chosen for the position. A prosecuting 
 attorney was likewise required, but no one seemed to 
 relish the office, as each person nominated immediately 
 declined and proposed another. Finally Brannan was 
 obliged to accept that office also. A sheriff was then 
 elected, the offender arrested, a jury empanelled, and 
 the trial begun. On being brought into court, which 
 was held in a room on the western side of the fort, 
 Pickett was requested to lay his arms on the table, 
 which he did. On the same table stood a plentiful 
 supply of brandy and a pitcher of water, of which 
 judge, jury, prisoner, and spectators partx)ok at pleas- 
 ure during the trial ; the brandy, from its rapid dis- 
 
EASY DECISION. 
 
 609 
 
 appearance, being evidently more to their taste than 
 the water. Then the question seriously arose whether 
 in a criminal court, where a man was on trial for his 
 life, smoking was proper. Appetite presses a strong 
 argument; precedent was found in the California 
 women who smoked at bull-fights, executions, and 
 funerals, and if ladies indulged in the practice, tobacco 
 could not be out of place anywhere. 
 
 The trial proceeded; equity in its broadest forms 
 alone was sought, but still there must be the form. 
 At length the judge rose and began a plea for the 
 prosecution. 
 
 "Hold on, Brannan," said Pickett, you are the 
 judge. 
 
 ** I know it," Brannan replied, "and I am prosecut- 
 ing attorney too." 
 
 Brannan the pleader then addressed Brannan the 
 judge in conjunction with the jury; after which 
 Pickett arose, tossed oft' a glass of brandy, and made 
 a telling speech, for he was an able man. As soon 
 as it was over, the night being well advanced, 
 tlie jury scattered, more intent on finding their beds 
 than a verdict. Then the question arose " What shall 
 be done with the prisoner? "Place him in confine- 
 ment," said the judge. " There is no prison," replied 
 tlie sheriff. "Put him in irons." "Got none," said 
 the officer of the law. Making a virtue of necessity 
 tlie judge then called the ayes and noes, whether the 
 prisoner should be admitted to bail. The ayes had it. 
 The prisoner took from the table his revolver and 
 bowie-knife, and marched off. Next day the jury 
 wore drunmied together, held a conference, and dis- 
 agreed. A new trial was ordered and the prisoner 
 ac(juitted. 
 
 In the spring of 1849 an election was held for 
 muuifipal officers in the town of Stockton. First and 
 second alcaldes were wanted, a;id George Belt and 
 James C. L. Wadsworth were elected. After the 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 89 
 
 
 l» 
 
 
010 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 election the boys voted themselves a banquet. A 
 champagne supper was ordered and the electors made 
 a night of it. In the morning the bill, amounting 
 to $2,500, was divided equally between the newly 
 elected alcaldes, and sent to them. Each paid his 
 share, $1,250, without a murmur. Being unable to 
 obtain a bible in the town, Mr Wadsworth says he 
 used to swear witnesses on an old memorandum book. 
 Horse-thieves were the most numerous class of 
 offenders brought before him. 
 
 Let him who holds in low esteem youthful justice 
 as manifest in the popular tribunals of the mining- 
 camps, and in the alcalde courts of the larger towns, 
 during the flush times of California, read the follow- 
 ing and then despise not the day of small things. 
 Stephen J. Field, subsequently upon the supremo 
 benches both of the state and of the United States, 
 was in the rough year of 1850 alcalde of the roaring 
 town of Marysville, so called from one Mary, a woman 
 out of whom the seven devils were not cast. Field's 
 first bench was somewhat ruder than his last one ; 
 and there was more difference still in the buildings 
 which held the respective courtrooms. Indeed one 
 of his first cases came up while walking the street ; 
 nor was this the first peripatetic trial or open air 
 court held in California. 
 
 A well-known citizen riding a horse which he had 
 just purchased was met by another citizen who claimed 
 the animal as his own. Field passing by and hearing 
 the dispute stopped. Naturally enough both nun 
 agreed at once to leave the matter for decision to 
 tiieir newly elected justice of the peace. Swearing 
 the disputants where they stood, he heard the story 
 of each, and decided in favor of the walking claimant, 
 to whom the horse was immediately delivered. The 
 judge's fee, an ounce, was cheerfully paid ; and after 
 adjourning for a brief space to an adjacent saloon, the 
 crowd which had gradually collected during the trial 
 
POLITICAL Self-abnegation. 
 
 611 
 
 dispersed apparently well satisfied with their young 
 alcalde. 
 
 The following story was told of W. T. Barbour 
 once judge of the district court at Marysville. After- 
 ward he was candidate for the legislature, and on 
 election day was about the polls watching his inter- 
 ests. An unlettered umd-plastered voter, who knew 
 neither his alphabet nor the candidates for legislative 
 honors, approached Judge Barbour with a Douglas 
 ticket and requested him to read it. 
 
 " With pleasure," said the judge, and he began to 
 read, "for president, Stephen A. Douglas, for vice- 
 president, Herschel V. Johnson." 
 
 "All right," said his unlearned friend, "go on." 
 
 So he read over the names of the electors. Again, 
 "all right, go on." 
 
 "For senator, C. E. De Long." 
 
 "Yes, go on." 
 
 " For assembly, W. T. Barbour." 
 
 "Hold on, there; strike him off." 
 
 Barbour turned toward the man an eye of suspicion 
 to see if he was being played upon, but notli'mg sig- 
 nificant of sarcasm was apparent in the voter's features. 
 
 "Why, friend," said the judge, "what have you 
 against him ? " 
 
 "I don't like him." 
 
 " Do you know him?" inquired the judge. 
 
 "No, but I have heard of him, and that's enough. 
 Strike him off; I don't think he ought to be elected 
 to tliat place." 
 
 The judge touched the point of his pencil to his 
 tongue, then slowly drew it over his own name. 
 
 "Whose will you have in Barbour's place?" now 
 inquired the judge. 
 
 " Let me see ; you may put in Magruder." 
 
 "Well, I'm sure," said the judge, "Barbour is as 
 good a man as Magruder, but have your own way; 
 you are entitled to vote for whom you please. But, 
 
 ill, I 
 
612> 
 
 COURTS OF JUSnCE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 my friend, I know Barbour, and somebody has been, 
 slandering him to you." 
 
 So saying, and without waiting for a reply, he 
 wrote down the name of Lloyd Magruder to take the 
 place of hiy own, and read on down the ticket, name 
 bv name, but not another of them did his imlearned 
 friend order scratched. The man then deposited his 
 vote. The judge was beaten. 
 
 They used to do similar things in Ireland, if we 
 may believe Curran, who gives the following exami- 
 nation of a witness : 
 
 "Did you vote at the election?" 
 
 "I did, sir." 
 
 "Are you a freeholder?" 
 
 "I'm not, sir." 
 
 "Did you take the freeholder's oath?" 
 
 "I did, sir." 
 
 " Who did you vote for?" 
 
 " Mr Bowles Daly, sir." 
 
 "Were you bribed?" 
 
 '* I was, sir." 
 
 " How much did you get ? " 
 
 " Five guineas, sir." 
 
 "What did jrou do with it?" 
 
 "I spintit, sir." 
 
 "You may go down." 
 
 "I will, sir. '^ 
 
 Few places could boast of courts with speedier juris- 
 diction than Folsom and vicinity. By one justice a 
 man was sentenced to be hanged within ten days, 
 without benefit of clergy. By another, before whom 
 three miners were brought for obstructing the high- 
 way, time was refused for sending for counsel ; ci»ii- 
 tinuance of the case was next refused ; then the court 
 objected to both jury and witnesses ; finally the men 
 were tried at midnight, found guilty, and imprisoncu. 
 Next day they were brought before the district judge 
 upon a writ of Jiabeas corjmSf and discharged. 
 
ORDEAL BY CRIBBAGE. 
 
 613 
 
 In the matter of a change of venue in a certian case 
 which came before the district judge of the sixteenth 
 judicial district in 1852, the defendant's attorney 
 wished it to be sent to El Dorado county, while the 
 district attorney chose Amador. Preferring the law- 
 yers should settle it, and knowing that both prided 
 themselves on their skill at cribbage, the judge sug- 
 gested that they shouid retire to an adjoining room, 
 and peg twice round the board. The lawyers agreed. 
 After an absence of some twenty minutes they re- 
 turned. 
 
 "Well, gentlemen," said the judge "have you 
 agreed to what court your case shall be sent ? " 
 
 " May it please your honor," replied the defendant's 
 attorney, " you may send it to El Dorado." 
 
 " By how much ? " asked the judge. 
 
 " Two points," was the reply. 
 
 In the minds of men accustomed to see punishment 
 follow quickly their deliberations, there was no little 
 difficulty experienced in segregating wholly practical 
 results from theoretical forms. In the alcalde's court 
 at San Diego, in 1849, a negro was tried for killing 
 ail Indian, before a jury composed principall}' of 
 Americans. They found the prisoner guilty of man- 
 slaughter. Aware that their duties terminated at 
 this point, and knowing that they had not the power 
 according to law to pronounce punishment, 3^et, as 
 there was no other tribunal at hand to sentence the 
 offender, they appended to their verdict the penalty 
 of one hundred lashes and one year's work with ball 
 and chain. 
 
 The miners of the Stanislaus, not wishing to be 
 behind other localities in assuming the forma of civi- 
 Hzation, elected one of their number, their best man, 
 justice of the peace. It happened soon after the es- 
 tablishment of this tribunal that a travelling attorney, 
 carrying about more bluster and bowie-knives than 
 
614 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 common sense, in a case before the court laid down 
 the law ill such a nianner as to call in question the 
 ability of the unlearned judge to deal fair justice. 
 The judge retorted in terms neither mild nor refined. 
 The lawyer then declared that the judge took advan- 
 tage of his position to insult him, and that if he 
 would walk ten steps from the sacred precincts of 
 the court he would give him a sound beating. 
 Whereat the judge laughed inwardly, for of such was 
 his strong suit, as he termed it; and rising immediately 
 from his bench, and wringing the lawyer's nose by 
 way of stimulant, as he passed out he punished the 
 attorney until the latter was glad to go back and con- 
 tinue the case. And never again did that lawyer 
 impeach the integrity or ability of a Stanislaus judge. 
 
 The alcalde of Badger hill was unwell ; yet justice 
 was healthful in his hands, and never slept. He had 
 been elected by the miners and boarded at the 
 Cherokee house. The court-room was wherever ho 
 happened to be. If working his claim, the nearest 
 log or stump afforded a judicial bench ; and an}- case 
 which happened to come before him was disposed of 
 with a disregard of forms and precedents worthy of 
 Solomon. 
 
 He to whom the wronged of Badger hill looked 
 for redress was an invalid. He sat up in his bunk to 
 hear the case, while round his head was tied a red 
 bandana. Green was the culprit ; a large powerful 
 man, and as cowardly as he was strong. He had 
 borrowed forty dollars of little Shortey, borrowed it 
 in the dead of winter when he lacked a pinch of gold- 
 dust with which to buy a loaf of bread ; and though 
 he had a good claim, and was now taking out quanti- 
 ties of thr 'ollow metal, he would not pay it. All 
 the muscles in Shortey 's body ached to angrily embrai e 
 the lubberly ingrate ; but since the miners of Bad^tr 
 hill had a judge of their own creation, it was no longer 
 deemed exactly the thing to ignore his ofiice and 
 
MIGHT AND RIGHT. 
 
 615 
 
 settle disputes, as formerly, by single combat. Time 
 was when the right of fisticuff was the privilege of 
 all; revolver and bowie-knife the common law of the 
 land, to which he who would might virtuously appeal; 
 but since justice was made incarnate at Badger hill, 
 the miners had tacitly agreed that thenceforth muscle 
 and steel should be subordinated to mind. They 
 could trust the alcalde fully ; for he was a man after 
 their own heart, who had " fit his fought " as often 
 and as successfully as the best of them. 
 
 It was a cold rainy night, but in and round the 
 sleeping-room of the Cherokee house were over two 
 hundred miners assembled ; men with long beard and 
 tangled hair, patched pants, rimless hats, and toeless 
 boots, for they scented fun if not blood. The plain- 
 tiff submitted his evidence ; the defendant had little 
 to say. 
 
 " Proved clar enough," decided the judge. " Shortey 
 must have his money and this yer court her fees, 
 and if yer won't fork over calm-like," turning to 
 Green, " I'll send them inter yer camp what '11 take 
 it" 
 
 " May it please your honor," exclaimed Shortey, 
 "It ain't his dust I want; only let me whale him 
 and I'll forgive the debt and pay the costs besides." 
 Thereupon Shortey " sailed in under kiver of the 
 law," as the alcalde classically expresses it in his 
 minutes. Green squared himself, trusting his bold 
 front might be preserved to him by the sanctity of 
 the place. The bystanders rushed in to prevent what 
 tlie future historian of Badger hill might call a dis- 
 graceful scene. Meanwhile the judge jerked from 
 his head the bandana, and springing from his bunk 
 stood in short white robes between the crowd and 
 the contestants. 
 
 " Gentlemen, stand back ! " he cried. " Ef the 
 parties to this yer action wish to effect a compromise, 
 let 'em do it." 
 
 Green was then so soundly pummelled by the ac- 
 
<16 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 tive and energetic little prosecutor, that he was soon 
 glad to buy escape by paying the claim and all the 
 costs. 
 
 When men first began to steal along the happy 
 foothills, the delving innocents regarded the matter 
 lightly, often flippantly. A case is cited in which a 
 man was taken before the justice at Downieville in 
 1850 for stealing a pair of boots. The justice was 
 keeper of a saloon. The culprit was found guilty 
 and adjudged first to restore the stolen property and 
 then by way of fine to treat the crowd. The court 
 and all present adjourned to the bar of the saloon to 
 drink and joke at the criminal's expense. Ridicule 
 is often a severer scourge than stripes. Regardless 
 of the reckoning, and of the convict's ability to pay, 
 drink after drink was called on and poured down the 
 throats of the jovial assemblage until all, including 
 judge, jury, and executioner became more engrossed 
 in the pleasing pastimes than in watching the prisoner, 
 who, taking advantage of the opportunity, slipped 
 out, packed his little property and was soon over the 
 hills and out of sight. The chagrin of the justice 
 may be imagined, w^ho, when his bar-keeper summed 
 up the bill for payment, found that his fine had been 
 inflicted upon his own pocket. 
 
 High in the foothills, on the south Yuba, during 
 the saturnian summer of 1850, stood a tented gold- 
 field glorying in the name of Washington ; glorying 
 in its laxity and looseness, in its unincorporated social 
 sentiment and dishevelled morals, in its free and easy 
 justice and its alcalde of original rulings, and in its 
 general indifference to Christian customs and institu- 
 tions. Until recently the miners of this locality had 
 revelled under the rule of an unhallowed theocracy, 
 but eighteen hundred and fifty's fourth '^f July hav- 
 ing just passed with the adoption of a name, which of 
 itself should be sufficient for the maintenance of good 
 
THE MAN AND THE PLACE. 
 
 617 
 
 citizenship, it was determined that an alcalde should 
 be chuseii and civilization inaugurated. 
 
 Nor was choosing a magistrate regarded by them 
 as a matter of little moment. He who should minis- 
 ter to them in judicial things must be learned in their 
 whimsicalities; he should be equitable at the horse- 
 race and wrestling-match, honest in his dealings at 
 poker, and withal of muscular powers sufficient to 
 enforce the mandates of the court. Above all he 
 must be a man of character and respectability, one 
 who could treat the crowd easily and often, and 
 wholly free from the effects of those stultifying 
 studies orighiating in Sunday-schools and week-day 
 lessons. 
 
 Now a stranger might think that in so small a com- 
 munity it would be difficult to find embodied in one 
 person all the necessary attributes. But such was 
 not the case. There was George Kelsey ; if you had 
 a thousand to select from, you could not find a better 
 man. First, his great round tent, standing in the 
 business centre, cool and pleasant by day and well 
 lighted at night, would serve splendidly as a courJ;- 
 liouse. True, the clarion note of justice might some- 
 times be drowned by the clinking of coin and the 
 rattling of glasses; for in this greatest of buildings 
 was conducted the greatest of businesses, the dealing o*^ 
 cards and the dispensing of drinks. But then, with 
 cards and drink law would fit well, and as already the 
 place was a dispensary of no mean pretensions, to 
 medicines for mind and purse add one for conduct 
 much needed, indeed, and Kelsey's law, drinking, and 
 gambling saloon becomes an institution of which even 
 tlie young ambitious town of Washington might well 
 be proud. It was understood at the beginning that 
 there should be no taxes connected with the erection 
 of the municipality, and to find judge, courthouse, 
 business, and refreshments all combined was ceitainly 
 a fine thing. 
 
 As for character, George Kelsey could match 
 
618 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 Caesar's wife. He stood six feet two in his shoes, and 
 was broad and strong in proportion. His head was 
 large ; he was thick-lipped, snub-nosed, and corpulent 
 as Socrates, and though his features were coarse and 
 without much show of intellectuality, he had limbs 
 and sinews like an emigrant's ox, so that what he 
 lacked in mind he made up in muscle. When in the 
 absence of the dealer he would sometimes seat himself 
 at the nionte table, his friends flocked round to win 
 his money without fear of imperfect pack or waxed 
 cards. Moreover, George possessed a coat, a relic of 
 former days, and on extraordinary occasions he ap- 
 peared in a white shirt. There was no fitter man for 
 magistrate in all those parts than George Kelsey. 
 
 The principal business before a justice's court held 
 in any of the towns along the Sierra drainage at this 
 time was the settlement of disputes concerning min- 
 ing claims. Thieving, highway robbery, and delib- 
 erate murder had not yet assumed the rank proportion 
 of a year later, and such cases as did come up, the 
 miners preferred to deal with summarily themselves. 
 There was something stimulating, somewiing resolute 
 and audacious in thus dealing single-handed with the 
 monster crime which well accorded with their humor. 
 Peace was a commodity little coveted, so that bowie- 
 knife encounters and pistolings were left to take their 
 own course, while in free fights the alcalde was morcs 
 disposed to stand by and maintain fairness than to 
 interpose his staff of office to prevent them. 
 
 Among other difficulties encountered by George 
 Kelsey in assuming the somewhat hazardous position 
 of arbiter between the diggers of Washington camp 
 was that general indifference to court rulings and de- 
 cisions common in the early history of Californian 
 jurisprudence. If at any time during the progress of 
 a case either party to the suit fancied his chances bet- 
 ter without than within the pale of law, there was no 
 hesitancy on his part to drop proceedings, walk out t)f 
 courtroom, and throw himself upon the miners, or 
 
FULL-COATED JUSTICK 
 
 419 
 
 fight it out with guns and pistols. Such a case oc- 
 curred within the classic walls of the round tent 
 shortly after its proprietor had assumed the responsi- 
 bilities of office. 
 
 Timothy Loker brought suit against Amber John 
 —one of the positive and usually popular characters 
 of the camp, so styled from the peculiar color of his 
 somewhat wrinkled skin — for extending his claim up 
 the side of the ravine beyond the limits allowed by 
 the regulations, so as to include part of a spot staked 
 off by one of Loker's men, for the nmtual benefit of 
 himself and his employer. 
 
 The case came up during the quiet hours of the 
 afternoon while the miners were yet at work, and the 
 town indulging in a semi-siesta preparatory to its noc- 
 turnal awakening. Behind a monte-table in the now 
 well-nigh deserted tent sat the judge, ermined in the 
 only coat the camp could boast, with the litigants be- 
 fore him. 
 
 It was evident from the beginning that Amber John 
 was angry, and on his metal. Miners' justice was good 
 enough for him. In five minutee the crowd at work 
 out in the ravine could determine the right and wrong 
 of it without all this round-tent clap-trap, and if that 
 decision did not suit, they had only to fight it out. 
 He didn't believe in courts ; they were useless, and a 
 nuisance, but for once he would try it and see how it 
 worked. 
 
 First of all he demanded that Loker should give 
 security for costs of suit. If he wanted law, he would 
 give him law; besides, he didn't believe any white 
 man would go bail for the onery cuss. Loker, how- 
 ever, easily and cheerfully procured the required se- 
 curity, clinchipg the character of his bondsman as he 
 laid the paper on the table by quietly adding, " who 
 is well known to bo in the round-tent interest." 
 
 It was now the defendant's turn to go through the 
 same process aiid file his security, but when this was 
 demanded o.' him he declined, coolly remarking that 
 
620 
 
 COURTS OP JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 he never had intended to pay any costs or iudgment, 
 or to abide the court's decision, but should lay lils 
 cause before the miners in mass meeting. Thereupon 
 the plaintiff withdrew his suit, swearing that he had 
 had enough of such nonsense, and avowing his purpose 
 to settle upon the claim and defend it with his rifle. 
 To tliis proposition the defendant heartily acquiesced, 
 addinj' that, after all, the only way to settle differences 
 amicably was to burn powder over them. Besides 
 being the honorable and gentlemanly way, it was the 
 only method which left no unpleasant feelings to stir 
 up subsequent strife. 
 
 All which the judge marked with eyes and ears 
 attentive; marked in dignified and meditative silence, 
 with thought sluggish at the first, but gradually re- 
 volving, and with accelerated swiftness, until from the 
 unwonted friction there rose to the eyes electric fire, 
 and a red deeper and more indignant than that of 
 rum suftused the face. How long should these things 
 be ? How long should the blind goddess of the round 
 tent be insulted by the vile rabble ? How long should 
 appeals begun in prayer abruptly terminate in blas- 
 phemy? George Kelsey, alcalde or no alcalde — that 
 was the next case to be tried in the round-tent, a case 
 in which the arm of the law should appear in corporeal 
 visitation. 
 
 Slowly rising, he stepped from behind the table 
 and laid aside his coat. Insignia of office seemed suf- 
 f(x;ating just then. While bundled in dignity he was 
 less a man than when facing upon common ground 
 those who had elevated him out of himself. Calling 
 to the absconding litigants, he said, "Tim Loker, 
 John, a word before you go. I question no man's 
 right to carry his quarrel to any mill he thinks will 
 grind it best; but once set in motion, the wheel of 
 round-tent justice stops only at the master's bidding. 
 You have honored me by elevation to office; you 
 have honored me by bringing here your cause ; now 
 I purpose to give you, Amber John, a sound thrash- 
 
 a 
 
 litigai 
 iiig b 
 
 tlioy 
 
MINER'S ARGUMENT. 
 
 G21 
 
 ing, for you liavo Insulted mo. Then under the sub- 
 duing influence of a loaded revolver which will be 
 placed upon the table, I shall proceed to try and de- 
 termine this suit, after which v^o will call honors easy. 
 Gentlemen, this is the first time since you elected me 
 alcalde that my honor has been called in question. 
 To my family in Missouri I am ai;countable for my 
 conduct as a man, and to the miners who elected me 
 for my conduct as a magistrate. I am abig man with 
 a big heart; that is why they elected mo alt aide, be- 
 cause I am a man big enough to execute the sentence 
 1)rocecding from a big heart. I am no trirkster; I 
 Lnow no law but common law, and that of the com- 
 monest kind ; but as long as I am alcalde, I propose 
 to deal out that quality of justice that suits me, and 
 if it don't suit you, then select anothei' man." 
 
 At this juncture in answer to tlio judge's nod 
 spirits appeared upon the table; mollifying spirits, 
 whose presence seemed to soften the asperities of the 
 litigants, but now bristling in bowie-knives and breath- 
 ing bullets. ** Go on judge," they both exclaimed, as 
 *;l;'y drew near and poured each for himself a liberal 
 potation. The case was continued without the pun- 
 ishment promised by tlie judge, whose words had 
 answered in the place of blows ; and it is needless to 
 say that the decision was in favor of the plaintiff 
 who, as well as his surety, was "well known to be in 
 the round tent interest." 
 
 Far below anything in quality that obtained along 
 the mining belt in forty-nine or fifty is tliat disgrace- 
 ful union of gin and justice occasionally found in later 
 times. It was a very different matter, the early trial 
 held in a saloon with the proprietor acting as judge, 
 and the thing as sometimes seen to-day. Then sak)on- 
 koeping was a respectable occupation ; now it is not. 
 Then the best citizens frequented those places ; now 
 they do not. Respectability springs from conformity to 
 the moral ideal of society, whether that ideal be right 
 or wrong ; and so does intrinsic worth, for virtue loves 
 
622 
 
 COURTS OP JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 recognition. The gambler of 1849, other attributes 
 being equal, was not so immoral a man as the gambler 
 of 1889. 
 
 I find nowhere in the early records of jurisprudence 
 on the coast anji;hing which strikes me as so utterly 
 humiliating to lovers of judicial decency, or which 
 brings law into such low abasement, as a signboard 
 which as late as 1877 disgraced the intelligence of 
 the good citizens of Vallejo. Upon it was inscribed 
 the words "C. W. Riley, Dealer in Imported Wines 
 and Liquors, and Choice Cigars; also Justice of the 
 Peace." 
 
 Law and liquor ; happy union I Let not their 
 former association be confounded with the later one. 
 Tlie interpretation of this sign-board of One-eyed 
 Rile}', as ho was called, may be given in these words : 
 American politics seek the low haunts of vice rather 
 tlian the more retired paths of virtue. There is 
 something radically wrong in the system which places 
 the administration of justice in the hands that mix 
 poisonous drinks for their fellows; that place the 
 political power of a community at the disposal of the 
 class that frequents and patronizes drink ing-saloons. 
 In this instance the bar of justice and the bar cf 
 vile potations occupied adjoining rooms, communicat- 
 ing by a door which offered easy access one to the 
 other. 
 
 As to the workings of this mongrel institution I 
 offer a single illustration, which should be sufficient 
 to incite the intelligent and enterprising citizens i)f 
 Vallejo to a healthy reform. It happened one night 
 during the early part of the year before mentioned, 
 that two officers belonging to a Russian war vessel 
 then lying m the stream off Mare island had spent 
 the evening ashore, and about eleven o'clock set out 
 to return to their ship. Arrived at the wharf, they 
 hailed a boat to take them oft"; and while waiting its 
 appearance they were attacked afid knocked senseless 
 with a slungshot by a ruffian named HoUis Rand, 
 
BELLICOSE COURT OFFICIALS. 
 
 e» 
 
 who thereupon proceeded to rob them, but was 
 frightened from his purpose by a police officer, Mc- 
 Donald, brought to the spot by their cries. Hand 
 made his escape; but was captured next morning and 
 brought before One-eyed Riley. It appears that the 
 robber and the judicial drink-seller were friends hav- 
 ing business relations, the former being a tenant of 
 the latter, who, besides, was in arrears about $100 
 for rent. Rand was liberated on his own recognizance 
 by Riley, and when the case came up for examina- 
 tien it was dismissed with little formality. 
 
 In June 1850 a fracas occurred among the judges 
 at Marysville, in which contemptuous words, fines, 
 and arrests were freely bandied, and weapons drawn 
 by dignitaries seated on their bench in open court. 
 Then the crowd without took the matter up, marched 
 from the house of one belligerent justice to that of 
 another, midst cheers and groans and the firing of 
 pistols. Finally the mob dispersed, the excitement 
 died away and nobody was hurt. 
 
 It was not an unconnnon occurrence for attorneys 
 and officers of the court durin*' a trial to fall into 
 disputes, become heated, pass the lie back and forth, 
 and draw pistols. I know of one instance which 
 occurred in the recorder's court at Sacramento as late 
 as May 1856, in which a quarrel between the defend- 
 ant's counsel and a testifying police officer tlireatoncd 
 to involve the whole court-room in a fight. Peace 
 being at length restored, the judge fined the attorney, 
 who liad given the policeman the lie direct, ij^lOO for 
 contempt of court; l)ut an apology from the oflcndcr, 
 in which the court was assured that the w<»rds were 
 spoken in the heat of the moment, and with no in- 
 tended indignity to the court, brought a speedy 
 remission of the fine. 
 
 I 
 
 The Laura D. Fair trial is interesting in its psy- 
 
624 
 
 COURTS OP JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 chological aspect rather than in a professional way. 
 Laura coveted money, but she coveted men more; 
 she could love a little, but she could hate stronger; 
 she could be insane somewhat, but her lunacy, whicli 
 was of the emotional kind, was always subservient to 
 her sense. If to see her lover kiss his wife madci l:tr 
 a lunatic, wit waited on revenge to the instantaneous 
 accomplishment of that which lay nearest her litjart. 
 With rare skill Laura gave in her testimony at tl.e 
 trial. It was very clear she was not insane then. It 
 was very plain that she was not a lunatic innncdiately 
 before and after the deed. She did not wish it under- 
 stood that she was beside herself but for the moment, 
 and like a mind lost in a mist of ever-increasing 
 density, so was her giving of evidence, clear and vivid 
 at a little distance from the deed, both before and 
 after, but gradually growing indistinct, until at the 
 moment of the murder all was opaque blackness. 
 Her memory at that point was a blank. Hovering 
 about the fatal moment were mingled facts and fan- 
 cies hurrying hither and thither like imps of dark- 
 ness, until she could not tell what was real and what 
 imaginary. They were beyond her description, be- 
 yond her knowledge. A soul dropped by the mes- 
 senger-angel upon a dark and angry ocean was not 
 more lost to itself than was she at the time. Laura 
 manifested no less ability in the escape than in the 
 killing. Some of the scenes in court were quite 
 characteristic. 
 
 " I am sure he was the only friend I had in the 
 world," she exclaimed on one occasitm from the wit- 
 ness-box. " I would not have harmed him for a hun- 
 dred worlds. Had he been living, gentlemen, when 
 Mr Campbell insulted me the other day, he would 
 have made Mr Campbell on his bended knees apt)lo- 
 gizo for it." There were present certain sympathizing 
 women of strong-minded proclivities, who took occa- 
 sion at this juncture to applaud, such being deemeil 
 by them one of their denied rights. 
 
SOME LADY ENTHUSIASTS. 
 
 023 
 
 " Silence 1 " cried the judge, his face reddening for 
 the unblushing females. " Officer, bring forward any 
 who applauded." The officer after some search re- 
 ported his inability to find such a one. Then spoke 
 Laura : 
 
 "Judge, it was all my fault." 
 ■ " Madam," said the judge, turning sharply upon 
 lier, " speak only in answer to such questions as are 
 put to you. You are not blamed for the disturbance." 
 Well, judge," replied Laura, ** human nature could 
 not stand it." Emily Pitt Stevens was now pointed 
 oat as one who applauded. 
 
 "Did you applaud ?" demanded the judge of her. 
 
 " Judt'e, I was not aware that I could not applaud 
 in court, ' replied Emily. 
 
 " Did you applaud ? ' cried the judge. 
 
 " I said * good.' " 
 
 " What is your name ? " 
 
 " Emily Pitt Stevens." 
 
 •* You applauded in court, did you ? " 
 
 " I said ' good ' and I put my hand down on the 
 desk so." 
 
 " Did you make any noise ? " 
 
 " I made no noise with my feet." 
 
 " Did you with your hands ? " 
 
 "Withmy hantlsl did." 
 
 " You are fined twentv-five dollars." 
 
 " I will pay it," cried Laura. 
 
 " Thank you," smiled Emily. 
 
 Another of the sisterhood, Mrs Booth, was then 
 accused. 
 
 " I did not applaud," said she. 
 
 "You did," answered her accuser. 
 
 " Judge," exclaimed tlie female rising and address- 
 ing the bench, " I was not aware that I could not 
 applaud." 
 
 *' What is your name | » 
 " Mrs Booth." 
 "Did you applaud?" 
 
 Cal. Ikt. Poc. 40 
 
 I 
 
02G 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 "I stamped my foot, I was not aware that it was 
 against the rules." 
 
 " Enter a fine of twenty-five dollars," said the juJge 
 to the clerk. 
 
 "I will pay it," put in Laura again. 
 
 " Thank v<^u," said good Mrs Booth. 
 
 " You will have to draw heavily on your purse if 
 you pay the fines of all of them," remarked the judge 
 to Laura. 
 
 " I do not think, your honor, that these ladies un- 
 derstood the rules of the court," said l^ura. 
 
 "Well, they understand them now," replied the 
 judge. 
 
 A gay demoiselle of Pacific street, prosecuting in the 
 recorder's court a lover, who one night while she was 
 slcepiiig off the fumes of champagne rose from her side, 
 rifled hor room of its valuables and departed, was asked 
 by the judge to state the particulars of the case, who 
 slie was and where she lived. Turning toward him 
 with an arch smile, Angelina replied, " Ah I judge, 
 you know all about it 1 " 
 
 Uncle Zeke was elected justice of the peace at 
 Nevada city in 1852, and when called upon to taki; 
 the oath of office it was for the first time ascertained 
 that his name was Ezokiol Dougherty. A man 
 arrested for horse-stealing was once brought before 
 him and jmt upon trial. Evidence was strong against 
 t!ie prisoner, it being fully proved that he was a bad 
 cliaracter. The prosecution rested, and the prisoner's 
 counsel called a witness. 
 
 " I don't see what you want of witnesses," said 
 Uncle Zeke. 
 
 " May it please your honor," replied the attorney, 
 " the object of the testimony which I now propose to 
 offer is to prove the general good character of the 
 accused." 
 
 "What in hell is tie use of trying to prove his 
 
PHARISAICAL EVASION". 
 
 627 
 
 good character when he is already proved to be a 
 thief? " roared the judcfe. 
 
 "Your honor, notwithstanding the one-sided evi- 
 dence, the tlieft is not proved ; moreover it is a pre- 
 sumption of law that a man is nniocent until he is 
 proved guilty." 
 
 "Yes, my friend," concluded Uncle Zeke, "and 
 there is another presumption of law, and that is that 
 a justice of the peace is not bottomed with cast-iron. 
 You may go on with your speech if you like, but I 
 am going for my bitters right now." 
 
 Cerruti tells the story of a scene which occurred in 
 a justice's court at Sonoma while he was there engaged 
 in writing from General Vallcjo's dictation. 
 
 A Jew shop-keeper, at the instigation of his com- 
 petitors, was arrested for violating the Sunday law, 
 which decreed that all places of business in California 
 should be closed on the sabbath. The offender was 
 fined ten dollars, which materially reduced that Sun- 
 day's profit. Thus forced to do reverence, the Jew 
 thought he might as well keep his own sabbath as the 
 Christian's, and so secure a better day for traffic liere, 
 and tlie seed of Abraham's reward hereafter. So the 
 next week he sacredly regarded Saturday, and kept 
 open shop as usual on Sunday. Arrested Monday 
 morning, he was asked why he had transgressed the 
 law a second time. 
 
 " I have broken no law," he declared ; " I kept Sat- 
 urday, which 18 the Jewish sabbath." 
 
 "Sir," said the judge, "do you propose to transplant 
 JcTusidem to California? Clerk, enter a fine against 
 the prisoner of twenty-five dollars." 
 
 Often in early times, as we have seen, justice and 
 juleps were administered by the same hand; some- 
 times the storekeeper or the postmaster would add to 
 his regular occupation the duties of alcalde. At Agua 
 Frio we find in 1852 an unsuccessful miner metamor- 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
628 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 pliosed at one turn of the moon into doctor both of 
 medicine and law. He did not hesitate even to accept 
 the office of justice ; but he found it quite impossible 
 to know all that was contained in books about the 
 rendering of judgments. An important case was 
 once before him in which one of the attorneys cited a 
 decision of Justice Story, and opening the book began 
 to read it, when the judge impatiently exclaimed : 
 " Mr Wade, Judge Story was undoubtedly good au- 
 thority in his day, but he won't do for this court.'* 
 
 This same medico-jurist owed a certain mechanic 
 for work. Repeated dunnings proving of no avail, 
 the man finally threatened to bring suit against the 
 judge. As it happened, there was another hall of 
 
 i'ustice not far from Agua Frio, into which if our un- 
 earned friend should fall lie knew it would go hard 
 with him, for the mechanic's claim was a just one. 
 I^Ieeting the man one day, the judge drew him aside 
 and insinuated in a friendly though dignified manner, 
 that if he must bring suit it would be better for botli 
 sides that it should be done in his own court, thus 
 saving useless trouble and expense. After some hesi- 
 tation the man consented, made out his bill, $97 50, 
 and handed it to the justice for collection. The suit 
 then underwent all the forms usual in such cases ; the 
 justice issued sunnnons against himself, acknowledged 
 service, and fixed the day of trial. At the appointed 
 h»)ur the mechanic appeared in court. 
 
 "As I shall not dispute your bill, I see no necessity 
 for calling a jury," remarked the judge. 
 
 " I agree with you," replied the mechanic. 
 
 " Then we will proceed at once to the examination 
 of the case," said the judge. "Let me see, your hill 
 is for $97 50. I admit the claim ; you did the work 
 well, and earned the money ; I am perfectly satisfied. 
 My bill against you is just $100." 
 
 " Your bill against me ! What do you mean ?" 
 
 " My bill for medical attendance ; doubtless you 
 have forgotten it; it was for that pulmonary attack, 
 
A GENERAL I'RACTITIONER. 
 
 es» 
 
 you know; it has boon standing for some time. I 
 should have sent it in sooner, I know ; I am very 
 negligent in money matters, but I do not like to in- 
 convenience my patients." 
 
 "I remember, some seven or eight months ago, 
 when sufl'ering with a ccld, you advised me — " 
 
 "That is sufficient," broke in the judge. "You 
 acknowledge the service. For that advice my charge 
 is $100; in serious cases I never take less, I shall 
 liave to enter judgment against you for two dollars 
 and fifty cents and costs, twelve dollars — it would 
 have been forty if taken to the other court — payable 
 immediately, as it is a rule of court for all judgments 
 to be settled at once." 
 
 There was no help for the mechanic but to pay the 
 money. 
 
 John C. Murphy one day innocently borrowed 
 without permission a horse belonging to William 
 (Jordon, a stronix-minded matjjlstrate of Yolo countv. 
 Hearing of it, the justice sent the ccmstable after 
 jMurphy, who was brought before Gordon, tried, con- 
 victed, and sentenced to be handed that afternoon. 
 The magistrate was in earnest ; and it was with the 
 utmost difficulty, and only by appealing to his sense 
 of fairness, and to his reputation as a magistrate in 
 criminating a man where the judge was prosecutor, 
 that delay was gained. Finally the case was referred 
 to another court, and the prisoner discharged, greatly 
 to the disijust of (iordon who immediatelv resjoiu'd 
 office, affirming he would no longer be judge where 
 he could not administer justice. 
 
 In the days when women were scarce and justic e 
 easy, Thomas A. Springer, magistrate near Ueorge- 
 town. El Doratlo county, divorced a wife one after- 
 noon, and married her to a new husband the same 
 evening. 
 
880 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COUllT SCENES. 
 
 Ill the spring of 1849 a Biiiall band known as the 
 Texan company started for the southern mines. 
 Among the members was one Richard C. Barry, who 
 had obtained the title of major during the Mexican 
 war, where he commanded a company of Texan 
 rangers. Attracted by stories of the marvellous 
 richness of the Tuolumne diggings, Major Barry and 
 his party went to what is now known as Sonora. 
 Emigration increased rapidly, and it became neces- 
 sary that there should be a town organization, and 
 Major Barry was chosen one of the justices of the 
 peace. The position was one that gratified his pride, 
 and filled the measure of his ambition ; he required his 
 orders to be implicity obeyed, and the great dignity 
 of his position to be respected. Justice Barry was 
 a stout, red-faced man, of medium height, with an 
 air of great resolution. His literary and legal attain- 
 ments may be determined from the record of his 
 rulings taken verbatim et liberatim from his docket, 
 which consisted of loose s raps of paper carried about 
 in his hat and pockets. His intrepidity and integrity 
 of character elevated him to an office where courage 
 and resolution were often demanded. His court was 
 omnipotent, and if disrespect was shown it a fine of 
 from ten dollars to twenty ounces was imposed In 
 his processes, forms, and ruHng, he displayed ajustessr 
 de V esprit truly charming, as the following transcripts 
 from his docket show. 
 
 Begin with case numbered 101. " In a caze where 
 one James Knowlton brings sute again joss Sancliis 
 fer felonously, and surreptiously, taking, stealing, and 
 robbing the said James Knowlton, late of San Fran- 
 cisco. One buckskin purs or sack of gold-dust of tlic 
 value of $4,000. 
 
 " After heering the evidence projuced in the case, I 
 demand of Jose Sanchis whether he was going to 
 plead guilty or not. Jose answered me thus, you 
 find out. For which insolent, and abominable con- 
 tempt of court I find him 3 ounces, and adjudged him 
 
BARRY, OF TUOLUMNE. 
 
 «!. 
 
 guilty. I sentenced him to restore tlio goold dust to 
 tlio Court, and, to receive well lade on 40 lashes on 
 liis bare back, and to pay the Costs of the Court. 
 
 *' Cost of Court 5 ounces which Jose not having I 
 rooled that James Knowlton should pay. Deducted 
 tlie amount and returned the balance to the owner 
 James Knowlton. 
 
 July 9, 1851. RICH'D C. BARRY, J. P. 
 U. H. Brown, Constable." 
 
 "In caze" number 51G the "Costs of coort" seems 
 to be the idea momentarily ruling the judsjfe's mind. 
 " This is a sute for nmle steehng, in which Jesus Ra- 
 mirez is indited for steeling one black marc nmle, 
 branded O with a 5 in it, from Sheriff Work. George 
 swaros the nmle m question is hisn, and I beleeve so, 
 too; on hearing the caze, I found Jesus Ramirez gilty 
 t)f, felonously and against the law made and provided 
 and the dignity of the people of Sonora, steelifi' the 
 aforesade mare mule, sentenced him to pay the cost 
 of court, $10, and fined him $100 more asaterrourto 
 all evil-dooers. Jesus Ramirez not having any munny 
 to pay with, I rooled that George Work should pay 
 the costs of coort as well as the fine, and hi default of 
 payment that the said one mare nmle be sold by the 
 constable, John Luney, or other officers of the court, 
 to meet the expenses of the costs of coort, as also the 
 payment of the fine aforesaid. 
 
 "R. C. BARRY, J. P. 
 
 "Sonora, Aug. 21, 1851. 
 
 "Joi.w Luney, Constable. 
 
 *'N. B. Barber, the lawyer for George Work, in- 
 solently told me there were no law for me too rool so. 
 I told him I didn't care a damn for his book law, that 
 I was the law myself. He continued to jaw back. I 
 told him to shet up, but he wouldn't; I fined him $50, 
 and committed him to goal 5 days for cf)ntempt of 
 court in bringing my roolings and dississions into dis- 
 roputableness and as a warning to unrooly persons not 
 to contradict this court." 
 
 hi 
 
632 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 Case 606 displays a little difference between the 
 judge and certain attorneys: "This was a sute be- 
 tween two ganiboleers. E. Krohe the ganiboleer who 
 sooed Sam Heed the ganiboleer to recover 3,000 
 dolers won at ceards. After much swarin one way 
 and another the lawyers, H. P. Barber and Leander 
 Quint, argooed the caze, which after a long time they 
 got through with. I discided that Barber was right, 
 whereupon Quint said please your honor I never can 
 get justice in your coort; putting out his finger and 
 thumb, i told him the likes of him in my country 
 often lost their fingers stealing com or chickens, and 
 that if i had anything to say he never shood have 
 justice here. I ordered him to hold his tung and 
 shet up when he went out of coort he began to grum- 
 ble again ; i ordered John Luney the constable to ar- 
 rest him and bring him into coort before me, which he 
 done, and I then fined him $25 for contempt of court. 
 
 "Costs of court $100, which was paid. 
 
 "R C. BARRY, J. P. 
 
 "Sonora, September 10, 1851. 
 
 "Constable." 
 
 Case 997 seems from the following summons to 
 
 have been one of a class not infrequent in those days, 
 
 which is judged first and tried afterward : 
 
 ucjj. i. e r* A'c • \ To the Sh'ff or 
 
 "btate ot Calitorma, f /-« i. ui r 
 
 ^ , m 1 > any Constable ot 
 
 County luolumne. ( c • i 
 
 •^ ) atoresaid co. 
 
 " Greeting : 
 
 "You are commanded to summens Maberry and 
 Street to appear before me at my office on the eight 
 day of November, A. D. 1851, at the hour of 9 
 o'clock, to answer to complaint filed in the court by 
 D. T. Donnalld, where in he charges them with a 
 nucense by putting a privvy on a lot which they have 
 jumped belonging to pl'ff, as a possesor right he now 
 comes to claim his right as an American citizen by 
 claiming a writ to dispossess them to have restitution 
 according to law, with appropriate demmages for the 
 
A LEARNED JUDOE. 
 
 68t 
 
 Imposision now about to be carried out a<^ainat liim 
 by sieh hitjh handed and morcanary arrovvgance on 
 the part of the Accused. 
 
 "Sonora city, November 5, 1851. 
 
 "R. C. BARRY, J. P." 
 
 The duties of coroner devolved upon a justice of 
 the peace. Barry liad a pecuhar mode of recording 
 liis procedures, which is best illustrated by quoting 
 from his writings. 
 
 No. 3. "George Williams who cutt his throt with 
 a razor October 20, 1850. Having heerd tlie evidense 
 it is evident it is a case of felloday see. Said Williams 
 had no property that I could find out. 
 
 "Justice fees, $10. 
 
 "R. C. BARRY." 
 
 " No 5. T. Newly killed by Fuller who shot him 
 with a gunn, Jaimary 30, 1851, I found no property 
 on the diseased. After trying Fuller and finding him 
 gilty, he was comitted by me, and sentenced by the 
 cort to two years' confinement. He broke jale and 
 run off." 
 
 " No. 1 6. Inquest on the boddy of a Chileno boy, 
 one of Snow's murderers, hunix bv tlie mob on Dar- 
 gun creek, June 25, 1851. Noboddy seems to no 
 who did it, he deserved to die." 
 
 A knotty case arose at Calaveras in 1852, which 
 is not settled to this dav. Provender durinjj that 
 winter was very scarce. One night several donkeys, 
 the property of certain well-known citizens, ruminat- 
 ing upon their hungry lot, encountered a ( lothes-line, 
 the only one in those parts which could display 
 among its gray ai«d^ woolen bunting, that blood- 
 tingling sight, a sacred white petticoat. 
 
 No st)oner had he espied the prize than lifting up 
 Ills voice, the oldest donkey blew loudly his horn, 
 whereat he and his comrades made a general attack. 
 Soon the clothes-line was cleared and the shivering 
 bowels of the nmles were comforted with a coverinjr 
 
 If 
 
HI 
 
 COURTS OP JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 of divers garments such as men and women use. 
 The question for the Themis of the foothills to settle 
 was whctherthese clotlus. so .safely locked within hairy 
 peripatetic trunks, mi;.(ht he recovered by action of 
 replevin or left to di»(estion. A Chniaman who was 
 asked his opinion replied ''Jackass eaty Melican man 
 shirt, belly good, belly good 1 " 
 
 An account of a law suit in the mountains given 
 by an eyewitness, pictures the justice seated on a 
 claret-box before a fire in his splitboard shanty 
 fr^'ing a beefsteak for his dinner. The defendant enters. 
 
 " How are you judge. Isn't it time to begin the 
 trial i This is the fourth time I have come here ; 
 first the plaintiff was not ready with his witness, then 
 your honor was absent, and the third time the plain- 
 tiff's witness did not swear to suit him. Now I 
 think we had better try the case before another jus- 
 tice as I want you for a witness myself." 
 
 "Await the arrival of the others and we will see," 
 replied the judge, cutting off a piece of the steak and 
 beginning to eat. While thus engaged the plaintiff 
 enters with his attorney. 
 
 "Well, judge, we are ready; don't want any wit- 
 ness. I'll tell you the story and that will settle the 
 matter. My client owed the defendant fifteen dollars, 
 and was the owner of a horse which he turned over 
 to the defendant with a writing stating that if he did 
 not pay the fifteen dollars within ten days, the de- 
 fendant might sell the horse and pay himself out of 
 the proceeds. The ten days passed and neither tlio 
 money was paid nor the horse sold. Now we tender 
 the money and sue to recover the horse. That's the 
 whole of it ; now take a pen right away and render 
 judgment in favor of the plaintiflf." 
 
 "The defendant wants me for a witness," said tlio 
 judge, munching his bread and beef-steak, " and there- 
 fore asks to have the case brought before another 
 justice, but I don't think it necessary." 
 
A JUDGE AS WITNESS. 
 
 OSS 
 
 " No, no," exclaimed the lawyer. "Of course not," 
 echoed his client. 
 
 "Yes, it Is necestJarv," j»(Tsisted tlie defendant, 
 "and I will have the case tried in anotiior court." 
 
 "Try it wliore you like, hut we'll fix the Im^iness 
 here now. Don't vou think I can y;ive niv evidence 
 hi this court as well as in another r' demanded tlio 
 judge. Then rising, but without being sworn, he 
 testified what he know of the matter, and resuming 
 his scat witliout another word, he entered in his 
 docket judgment for plahitiflT. 
 
 "That's right, judge," said the lawyer, who there- 
 upon immediately withdrew. 
 
 "WhatI" exclahned the victim of these sunnnary 
 proceedings, "render a verdict without a trial i liow 
 can you act as witness, jury, and judge all at the same 
 time? I'll tell vt>u what I will do — " 
 
 "Do what you danmed please 1" said the judge as 
 he arose from the table, wlju'd ];is mouth with the 
 back of his hand, and started for his mining eluhn. 
 
 A territorial leixislature and countv officials had 
 just been chosen by tiie people of Wasliington, and 
 Jolm W. Champ, justice of the peace, antl Cliarles 
 W. Denter, constable, opened the first law court evi r 
 held at Showlwater bay, and entered ui)on tlieir first 
 case. 
 
 All which proceedings the oystermen of this beach 
 regarded with })rofound contempt. Wliat did they 
 want with law ? The country had been ai)le to get 
 along wtll enough without it so far. The peo}>le wc re 
 disposed to be peaceable. All had tiieir own aflairs 
 to attend to; their rights and wrongs were very sim- 
 ple. Each found it pleasantcr to be frientls with all 
 the rest, to have their good opinion and fellowship 
 than their emnity ; if a disturber of the peace dropped 
 ffom so.ne pass'.ng ship, l;e was quietly advised to 
 continue his rambles, and not stop there. If wliisky 
 assumed the soverei<j:ntv, a little fist-fiLjht would 
 
63C 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AXD COUHT SCENRS. 
 
 usually heal all feuds, and bring the belligerents to 
 their senses. Law was not wanted at Showlwater 
 bay, but now they had it they must use it. Nobody 
 thougiit of going to court until the court came to 
 th(>m. 
 
 Clianip was a tall, nmscular Vermonter of sixty-five, 
 wliose inner qualities as microscoped by rye wliisky 
 were cra.«j:sxv ; Biij Charlcv, as Dcntcr was called, was 
 dropped on Showlwater Beach by a Maine whale as 
 too lazy for the service. Two better men fi)r their 
 respective positions could not have been found by 
 searching diligently with a candle; it is a peculiarity 
 of our political system that certain offices arc better 
 filled by manikins than men. The first case was Pub- 
 lic Opinion against Bowman. Bowman was a waif; 
 how he lost himself no one knew. The Beach did 
 not want him. Give him things to watch, and more 
 of theiu would be missing than if left exposed. Mr 
 Ilussell lost a small sum of money by him in tliat 
 way. Before the establishment of a court the man 
 would have been hunted hence, and that would hav<> 
 been the end of it, but law was master now. Besides, 
 the justice wished to try the new machine. 
 
 Ajiainst Bowman there was neither prosecutor nor 
 proof; but these slight impediments were easily sur- 
 mounted by Champ, who was not hampered by legal 
 knowledge. 
 
 The united wisdom (»f the Beach produced a pajier 
 which seemed to touch the evil remedially, which was 
 made to take the place of wliat in more exi)erienr((l 
 courts would be a warrant for tlie arrest of Bowman. 
 This was placed in the hands of tlie constable, whoso 
 wholesome fear of the obnoxious straggler, together 
 witli his constitutional aversioti to either mental or 
 muscular exertion, rendered the serving of the war- 
 rant, as it was supposed to be, a serious matter. By 
 one idea alone his mind was filled as lie dragged his 
 slow lind)S through the sand. How should he get 
 th<j man before the judge ? Assuming an indifference 
 
ON SHOWLWATER BAY. 
 
 m 
 
 which ho was far from feeling, he entered a boatman's 
 hut wliero Bowman happened to be quartered for tlie 
 time, and asked for something to drink. Bowman 
 replied that he had none, of which fact Big Charley was 
 well aware, otherwise the man would not be sober. 
 
 " Old Champ has just got a demijohn of first-rate 
 whisky," said the constable, "let's go and got some." 
 
 "That suits me," replied Bowman, whose thirst for 
 tho ardent was unquenchable. 
 
 A|iproaching tho unfledged hall of justice, they 
 found the squire feeding his chickc ;>.v Seeing his 
 first order thus so promptly obeyed, tlio judge gave a 
 final flinyf to the wetted bran which he was scattorinix 
 to the infinite satisfaction of the poultry, and enter- 
 ing the courtroom with unusual alacrity, took his 
 seat, a crowd was gathering, and within the hour the 
 reputation of the tribunal would be forever fixed. 
 
 " Order in court 1 " began the judge, with as stern 
 an expression as he could call up on so short a notice. 
 Then turninu to Bowman he beuan : 
 
 "Well, sir; what have you to say for yourself " 
 
 " Nothing in particular, judge ; have you any 
 wliisky, here ?" 
 
 " Whisky 1 exclaimed the judge, somewhat angered 
 by the unhaUowod intimation, "do you take this for 
 a rum-mill, sir ? W^hat have you been doing, hey ; 
 guilty or not guilty ? " 
 
 " Capital, judg'\" renlied Bowman, with a not alto- 
 gether happy smiie. " You would alwaj^s have 3our 
 little joke ; bui where's that new demijohn of whisky; 
 Tin as dry as a cured salmon." 
 
 " I'll salmon you for bringing this court into con- 
 tempt," cried the judge, whose irate emotions were 
 iidw running away with his syntax. "Do you know 
 tliatyou are arrested, sir ; that you are on trial, sir?" 
 
 " No, I did not know it," was the reply. " What 
 is the charge ? " 
 
 " Charley, you lubber," said the judge addressing 
 the constable, " didn't you show him that paper ? " 
 
 «., i.J 
 
 I 
 
638 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 " Of course I did," was the reply. 
 
 *' That's a lie; I haven't seen any paper." 
 
 " Order in the court 1 " roared the judge. " Give 
 him that paper, you big lump of whale blubber, and 
 lawfully arrest William Bowman, in the name of the 
 United States." 
 
 Big Charley handed the paper to Bowman, who 
 opened it and read as follows: "You are hereby 
 commanded to leave the bay within twenty-four hours 
 or receive twentj'-five lashes. And may the Lord 
 have mercy on your soul. John W. Champ, justice 
 of the peace." 
 
 " This looks more like a viiiilanre notice than a 
 warrant of arrest," said Bowman. " Of what am I 
 accused, and by whom?" 
 
 "Accused I " exclaimed the judge. "Of everything, 
 and by the whole Beach. You know you stole Mr 
 Russell's money, and that you are a pirate and a 
 red rover." 
 
 "Who says I stole money; who makes such a 
 charge, and who are the witnesses," said the prisoner, 
 nt)w fairly aroused. 
 
 " See here. Bowman," replied the judge. " Wo 
 don't want any witnesses in this matter. You know 
 all about it without being told; and as for the cluirge, 
 I bring that myself, and to sjive time I wrote out 
 what vou had to do, and that's the end of it." 
 
 "Court was then adjourned; Bowman was put 
 upon a vessel for Astoria, and thus terminated tin- 
 first legal trial at Showl water bay. 
 
 Not long aft(Tward a deserted sailor, callo<:l Bob, 
 was discovered stealing a pair of sJioes from a storr. 
 The oystermen from what they have seen of the new- 
 machinery at Champ's, thought themselves fully as 
 capable as the United States to act in the matter; 
 so without going near the judge they whipped the 
 offender and shipped liim down the coast. 
 
 The registrar of the United States' land office may 
 
ARMED OR UNARMED. 
 
 9$ 
 
 not punish for contempt, hence those bringing cases 
 bofore him may be as belligerent as they please In 
 the case of Ketchum versus the State of California, 
 before Mr Haverstick of Los Angeles, among the 
 attorneys on either side were Mr Gould for plaintitf 
 and R. M. Widney for the defense. Ketchum him- 
 self was on the stand, and Gould was examining 
 him ; both sides indulged freely in invective. 
 
 "What became of Lachenais ?'" asked Gould of the 
 witness. 
 
 ** He was hanged by Wldncy and others." 
 
 Widney rose from his seat, and drawing from his 
 p;)cket a pistol, and holding his hand down, as one 
 draws and holds a handkerchief, thus addressed the 
 witness : 
 
 "You say I murdered a man, you lie, you perjured 
 villain. I was not present when Lachenais was 
 hanged, and knew nothing about it. If you and your 
 party are armed to a.ssassinate me, as I have been in- 
 formed is your avowed intention, now is your oppor- 
 tunity." 
 
 " We are not armed," said Mr Gt>uld. 
 
 "Then I will put away my weapon," replied Wid- 
 ney. "And in continuing the case this afternoon, I 
 wish to have it distinctly understood whether wo 
 come together armed or unarmed." 
 
 Mr Haverstick ruled that the case was to be con- 
 tinued by unarmed disputants. 
 
 A case came up in the district court of San Fran- 
 <isco in Sq)tembcr 1852, which shows liow widely 
 separated are justice and the jury hi many suits at 
 law. It illustrates at the same time how impatient of 
 forms and technical restraint is the material ct)mpo8- 
 ing our juries, and how utterly foolish atid fickle are 
 i'.irvmen sometimes, and how farcical are nnnv of our 
 jury trials. Suit was brought by Green 8,'ainat Min- 
 turn for certain improvements on leased land, which 
 iini>ro\oments had been valued by an appraiser at 
 
 
 
m 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 $4,000. Green had refused to abide by the decision 
 of the appraiser, and so brought tlie suit. The trial 
 ended, tlie jury brought in a verdict of $8,000 for the 
 plaintiff, 8ti[)uiating that no imputation of unfairness 
 sliould lay at the door of the appraiser. The judge 
 told them that the latter clause of their verdict was 
 superfluous, and must be stricken out. The jury 
 again i etired, and in a few minutes brought in a ver- 
 dict f( r the defendant, with some $.')00 costs which 
 the plamtiff must pay, whereat the court and all pres- 
 ent smiled audibly. 
 
 A Sacramento court-room was the scene of a some- 
 what undignified emeute on the Ifitli of June, 1832, 
 growing out of squatters' troubles, respecting which 
 there were still many sniothered feuds. No sooner 
 was the court adjourned at noon than one McKune, 
 of whom the associate judge, Wilson, had mado some 
 cUsi)araging remarks, stepped forward and demanded 
 an apology. This liis honor refused to make, when 
 McKuno and a friend of his, Caulfit^ld, attacked the 
 judge, and beat him over the head vith a walking- 
 stick. Judge Wilson carried a sword-cane, which lie 
 drew, aiul plunged the steel into the body of his as- 
 sailant. Pistols were then employed ; Caulfield fired 
 once and the judge once. The jail-keeper rusliing 
 between the combatants re»?elved in his body the ball 
 intended for the judge. There was great excitement 
 througliout tlu; city respecting the affair, and much 
 talk of lynching. 
 
 A prosperous mining district always furnisiied tin- 
 courts an abundanci! of business, and the lawyers t'iit 
 fe(!S. Titles and bounderies to claims were the cliii t' 
 causes of dissension, and if the contestants were able, 
 their advocates had no difficult}'' in making them i)ay 
 well for indulging in the luxury of law. 
 
 Jos.se Nilt)S, made magistrate of D<jnkeyville by an 
 overwhelmh)g majority of the people, was a long, sin- 
 
 ewy, h« 
 
 could rt 
 
 words, a 
 
 lils nam 
 
 hence Ik 
 
 packed 1 
 
 in such ( 
 
 tice. R 
 
 1 -w, and 
 
 donee, ca 
 
 It was 
 
 represent 
 
 injf comp 
 
 with trou 
 
 Farland c 
 
 I>.iss in \\i 
 
 Niles, as 
 
 through 1 
 
 gravf.) sati 
 
 ties appoaj 
 
 at ojiu (>'(•] 
 
 "^\\o, fare I 
 
 '"'•trd, anil 
 
 dignity of' 
 
 '■•"d he rea 
 
 If" was dt 
 
 f 'r himscJ 
 
 ^^pcniiW 1 
 
 self: 
 
 "If the 
 
 j"ctions, 
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NILES, OP DONKEYVILLE. 
 
 OH 
 
 ewy, hard-fisted, and tliuk-licadod ladianian, who 
 could road wiUumt spelling imt any but the longest 
 words, and if you gave him tii>»c enough could write 
 Ills name. His decisions were emhientlv practical; 
 I'.ence lie was eminently popular. Legal lore was not 
 jxicked between the coarse convolutions of his brain 
 in such quantity as to wholly defeat the ends of jus- 
 tice. Rascalitv could not shield itself under cover of 
 \:av, and a sworn alibi, in the face of undoubted evi- 
 dence, carried little weight. 
 
 It was a great day for Justice Jesse Niles when the 
 representatives of the two largest and wealtliiest min- 
 ing companies of Donkeyville district came into C(»urt 
 with troubled determination in their faces. The IMc- 
 Farland company ( harged the Old Kentuck with tres- 
 ]»ass in having worked over on their ground. Justice 
 Niles, as he fixed the time of trial, ran his fingers 
 through his thick, tangled liair as best he could, witji 
 grave satisfaction. At the appointed hour both })ar- 
 ties a|»peared in court; the jury was empanelled, and 
 »t onv. o'clock all were ready to proceed witli the case. 
 The foreman of the McFarlund rose, stroked lis 
 h"iird, and glanced round the room. The h >nor and 
 dignity of the company had been placed in his hands, 
 and he realized fully the responsibility of the situation. 
 J[" was determined to leave no effort untried to win 
 i'»r liimself laurels, and for liis c(»mp,iny tlieir cause. 
 Opening his mouth, in slow jerks ho delivered him- 
 self; 
 
 "If the court please, and the defendant has no ob- 
 j'ctions, I propose we adjourn for five minutes," 
 iiieatiwhiie giving his tlaunb a lateral lling from his 
 shoulder in the direction <>f the Diana saloon, of whieli 
 tlie honorable judge was proprietor. As a matter of 
 f'lurso it did please the court, an<l the defiiulant was 
 far too polite to object. After their comforting p«)ta- 
 ti'iu. the jury listeiied to the case, as |)resented by the 
 Iili'-intiif, with marked attention. Too sympatlietic, by 
 tar, the detciidant thought, for the good of his cause, 
 
 C!al, Int. I'oc. 41. 
 
 m 
 
 \ m 
 
Aitt 
 
 COURTS OP JUSTTfE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 and as the remedy lay only in the disease, he felt it 
 incumbent on him also to ask an adjournment of five 
 minutes. And these pleasant little compliments were 
 continued by both sides until by eight o'clock there 
 had been no less than twenty adjournments. 
 
 irnder the circumstances the judge was certainly 
 excusable if in summing up the case to the jury his 
 ideas ai)poared a little confused, and liip tongue some- 
 what tliick. It so happened that one of the twelve, 
 whose fate, he used to say, it always was to be [)lactd 
 upon the jury with eleven fools, and whose leathery 
 brain no measure of the most villainous compound 
 ever sold for drinking purix)ses could saturate,— it 
 happened that this man gave mortal offence to tjie 
 judge by asking in wliat book the law laid down by 
 his honor could be found. 
 
 Now the judge was particularly sensitive about his 
 metliod of expounding tlie law m Jiis ohargt' to tlit; 
 jury, as we all are sensitive in our vulnerable parts, 
 and the frequent adjournments seemed rather to have 
 increased than to have diminislicd his irritation. In 
 his present state of mind, it seemed to him clear tliat 
 tlie ermine had been insulted, and that tlie imperti- 
 tuftcc Muist l>e resented. With clenclied hands ami 
 cr.ntractcd brow, he fixed his angry eyes upon the 
 juror, 
 
 •'The book, is it," he exclaimed, "it's the law you 
 want ? " 
 
 "Y-y-yes," meekly replied the juror. "I asked 
 your lienor where it might be found." 
 
 "Confound you, sir," roared tlie judge, "I would 
 have you know when I ttdl you a thing is law, its 
 law," and drawing a bowie-knife he made a spring for 
 the offender. 
 
 The jur}^ broke and ran, the infuriated justice lianl 
 after them, and for a time it was doubtful how this 
 charge of the judge should terminate. At length 
 reaching a hill outside of the canij), the jury scattt ivd 
 and were lost in the darkness, while the judge return- 
 
 ing to 
 alone, i 
 j'is in a 
 
 A mi 
 
 f >r mur 
 Sometii; 
 ported i 
 the prls( 
 the decii 
 
 Two r 
 
 pocuniou 
 up to tin 
 sweat for 
 " Wha 
 alrearly," 
 "That' 
 h'! struck 
 as a free 
 your cou 
 We'll swo 
 " Wei 
 thep-'fcti 
 " Voil 
 you after 
 A wa,rr 
 into eour 
 "^uit appro 
 "See )i 
 f'f a fix. 
 piison for 
 •■^"d I ran 
 <«re a free 
 " CJieap 
 iiionev am 
 At the r 
 ^\'!»s enterei 
 J' let by Le 
 
LAW AND DUTY. 
 
 643 
 
 ing to his bench was obliged, in deciding the case 
 alone, to exercise the right of desperate necessity — 
 jiis in cdsu necessitatis, 
 
 A man in Plumas county, sentenced to be hanged 
 for murder, appealed his case to the supreme court. 
 Sometime afterward tlie sheriff seeing the case re- 
 ))ortcd in the Sacramento Union as affirmed, Itanged 
 the prisoner. In a few days an order came reversing 
 the decision of the court. 
 
 Two men fought at Cacheville one day. An im- 
 pocunious lawyer regarded it speculatively. Stepping 
 up to the victor he said : " Lewis, you can make him 
 sweat for that ; he struck you first." 
 
 "What do I care; I have sweated him enough 
 already," replied Lewis. 
 
 "That's all v(>ry well," persisted the lawyer, "hut 
 liv; struck first; ho broke the law, and it is vour dutv 
 as a free American citizen to see the institutions of 
 your country sustained. Give me five dollars and 
 we'll sweat him." 
 
 " Well, I don't mind," grinned Lewis, as ho handed 
 the pettifogger the money. "Sweat him good, will you'" 
 
 " Von hot; he will respect you. all men will respect 
 you after this." 
 
 A warrant was issu<^d and the beaten man brought 
 into court. The same lawyor who instigated the 
 suit ap[)roached him confidontijilly 
 
 '•See here, Sam; you've got yourself into a dovil 
 f»r a fix. Do you know you can be .sent tf> the state 
 IM-isoii for this. But I'm on the other side, Sam, 
 in 1(1 I can save you. Give me five dollars and you 
 it!o a free man." 
 
 "Cheap enough," said Sam, as he handed over the 
 nioMoy and walketl out of court. 
 
 At the request of the prosecution a nolle prosequi 
 was entered and the case dismissed. The lawyer was 
 II lit by Lewis shortly after who accosted him. 
 
 '--■ ! I 
 
COURTS OF JU.STICE AXD COURT SCENES. 
 
 *' How is this ; how about trial, example, and insti- 
 tutions i " 
 
 "Well you see the jud«je was against us; so 
 rather than risk a trial I withdrew for an appeal — " 
 
 "A 'peal ? I'll peal you if you don't peal backtiiat 
 five dollars," The learned counsel pealed. 
 
 The following statement displays one phase of the 
 workings of law, which goes far to show that it is 
 often better to submit quietly to injuries sustained 
 than to attempt redress in the courts. 
 
 " To the officers of Calaveras county. — Gentlemen: 
 On the 24th day of February last, while travelling 
 through your country, I was waylaid by a highway- 
 njan, who, after robbing the stage of Wells, Fargo & 
 Co.'s express box, forced me to give up my purse, 
 containing about eighty-three dollars. I am in- 
 formed the amount obtained from Wells, Fargo & 
 Co, was eighty-one dollars. On the next day the 
 robber was arrested in your county, and no effort 
 made to search him, except to take from him his 
 pistol ; neither was he searched for money nor iden- 
 tifying articles in his possession until he was in- 
 carcerated in San Andreas jail, although ho was 
 known to have over one hundred dollars upon his 
 person, until lie had emplo3'c>l one Mr Hopkins to 
 defend him, securing his services by giving him a 
 j)ortion of the money stolen from me. The prisoner 
 was then searched and over forty dollars found on liis 
 ])erson. I was summoned by the proper authorities 
 of said county to api)ear in said San Andreas on 
 three separate occasions, to wit ; before the commit- 
 ting magistrate, before the grand jury, and on tlic 
 trial before the county court, to each of which sum- 
 mons I went as a witness from this city, my home. 
 A few days before the final trial, the sheriff of said 
 county expended a portion of the money found on 
 the jirisoner in purchasing him clean underclothing. 
 On April 25 th the prisoner, under the name of 
 
 Wrig] 
 of J)i^ 
 fiftt^en 
 
 lodi, 
 
 jet 
 
 "III 
 
 county 
 
 rofuse( 
 
 plied t 
 
 lars of 
 
 me tJie 
 
 sheriff" 
 
 decline 
 
 order c 
 
 wit : 'i 
 
 and my 
 
 by lettc 
 
 tried an 
 
 tlie nioi 
 
 Bkar 
 
 niake an 
 
 tlie nion 
 
 nioney v 
 
 ^vas the 
 
 tlie lattc 
 
 Hu! cour 
 
 H\ il acti 
 
 i" justic 
 
 •sluiriffs 
 
 Iiave rec( 
 
 viction, a 
 
 "Ifthc 
 <»f the sta 
 f^iK'li is tl) 
 if I am 8< 
 man, I wi 
 
LEFT-HANDED JUSTICE. 
 
 C45 
 
 Wright, was convicted, as cliar^ed in the indictment, 
 of highway robbery, and has since been sentenced to 
 fifteen years in tiie [wnitentiary, where he is now 
 lodged and boardetl at the expt^nse of tiie state. 
 
 " Immediately after his conviction, I applieil to the 
 county judge for mileage or traveling expenses, who 
 rofused to make any allowance for either. I then ap- 
 plied to th3 district attorney, who claimed thirty dol- 
 lars of the money in the sherift^s hands, as he Informed 
 me the law allowed it to him. I then applied to the 
 slicriff for the money taken from the prisoner, who 
 declined to pay out any of the money, except on the 
 order of the judge, as several parties claimed it, to 
 wit: The prisoner's attorney, the district attorney, 
 and myself. After the sentence of Wright, I applied 
 by letter to the county judge before whom he was 
 tried and convicted, for an order on the sheriff to pay 
 the money to me. His answer is as follows: 
 
 San Andkkas, May 1, 1877. 
 Miln Hnadlerj, Esq., San Francisco. 
 
 Dkar Sir: — I do not think the court entitled to 
 make any order directing the sheriff to }»ay over to you 
 the nioney taken from Wright. It was in proof that 
 money was taken from you by Wright. ]^ut that it 
 was the identical coin was not proved, and even in 
 the latter cas(^ would not have been under control of 
 tlu! court till after conviction. Your remedv was bv a 
 civil aetion for monevs had and received, tonnnenced 
 ill justice's court. By attaching tlu; coin in the 
 sluTitrs hands before the trial of Wright, you could 
 have recovered judgment against him u[)()n the con- 
 viction, and so received what the sheriff' held. 
 
 Yours, Respectfullv, 
 
 IRA H. REED. 
 
 " If the law, as practised in your country, is the law 
 of the state, it is time it was changed; and so long as 
 such is the practise under the law or against the law, 
 it' I am so unfortunate as to meet another highway- 
 nuui, I will settle the matter by a draft on sight or 
 
 
 ! If 
 
COURTS OP JUSTICE AND COUUT SCENES. 
 
 pocket the loss, and I advise my friends to pursue tlie 
 same course. As the money stolen from me has been 
 appropriated to defend and clotlic the prisoner, and 
 as I have been compelled to pay my own ex[>cnsos for 
 over nine hundred miles of travel, besides occupying 
 two weeks of my time, I may expect a bill from your 
 county for board and lodging of the prisoner, as also 
 the expenses incurred in sending him to the state 
 board-ht)Use. 
 
 Respectfully Yours, 
 
 MILO HOADLEY. 
 San Francisco, May 4, 1877." 
 
 A miner committed suicide on Feather river. A 
 coroner's jury, a new institution in these parts, was 
 empanelled, which after hearing and wei<;hing tlie 
 evidence, brought in a verdict that the dead man was 
 *' a damned fool." 
 
 Henry Lark, in 1854 justice of the peace at Ama- 
 dor, held court in the bar-room of the Magnolia wi- 
 loon, that being his favorite resort when not enjiaired 
 in trading horses. One day Jim Wall, the sheriH" 
 brought in an Irishman accused of stealing messes of 
 meat at different times from his neighbor's cabin. 
 The justice was deep in old sledge with the bar- 
 keeper, Pitts, for a dollar a side, being far too shrewd 
 to waste his time at any one-sided whisky game. 
 
 ** Here, judge, give me your hand wliile you settle 
 this business," said the sheriff, approaching the table. 
 
 " Git, and don't bother me," responded his honor. 
 But recalling the dignity of his office as he raked in 
 the dollar at the end of the game, he arose, and giv- 
 ing the sheriff his seat, threw his leg over the adjoin- 
 ing table, and with his eye took in the prisoner. 
 
 " Well, what you got to say for yourself?" at length 
 demanded the judge. 
 
 " I beg," clearly and promptly fell from the lips of 
 the bar keeper, 
 
CARDS IX COURT. 
 
 647 
 
 " I'll sec you clainiicd firat," respoiulo*] Wall. 
 
 "Sheritf, kt'e|) silence in the court," intei'iKisecl the 
 judge. Then turning to the prisoner, he begun again. 
 " Well, sir—" 
 
 Sheriff. 'Cut the kerds, barkecp." 
 
 Barkeeper. *' Run 'en»." 
 
 Prisoner. *' I was only borrowin' the mate, yer 
 honor," with a most winning smile. 
 
 Judge. "Why didn't—" 
 
 Barkeeper. "No you don't, Mr Wall; put your 
 little old jack on that ace, and no nigging " 
 
 Judge. "Either this court or that game nmst ad- 
 journ if you don't make less noise." 
 
 Barkeeper. "One moment, judge; count your 
 game, Wall." 
 
 Judge. " How much — " 
 
 Sheriff. "High, jack, game." 
 
 Judge. "Silence hi ctmrtl" 
 
 For a few moments the i)la3^ers were comparatively 
 quiet while the judge continued the examination. At 
 length the sheriff, again forgetting himself, cried t)ut, 
 "Six, and; ri[) ahead, old boss!" Tlus judge rose in 
 anger, but as he turned toward the players he saw the 
 king and ten of trunips in the bar-keeper's hand, and 
 the case was instantly forgotten. 
 
 " Wall, I'll bet you five dollars your beaten," ex- 
 clain»ed the judge. 
 
 " Done!" said the sheriff. "Come down with the 
 casji ; no fraud." 
 
 With cautious circumspection the point was played 
 for. The whole attention of the judge was absorbed 
 in the game. The sheriff won. Meanwhile the pris- 
 oner quietly withdrew. 
 
 "Fraud and cheating," cried the judge. "I fine 
 you both ten dollars for contempt of court," and so 
 concluded the trial. 
 
 .r\ 
 
 Before the county court of Lake county, in 1865 I 
 think it was, D. J. McCarty was brought for whip- 
 
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 Hiotographi 
 
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 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
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 (716) 872-4503 
 
 
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648 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 ping his wife. The case had provoked much scandal, 
 and the courtroom was crowded. The district attor- 
 ney', J. H. Thompson, had stated his case, and was 
 ready with his witnesses, when a question was raised 
 as to the admissibiUty of certain evidence. The at- 
 torney offered to produce authorities to sustain his 
 position, but as he was slow in finding them the judge 
 became impatient, and ruled the evidence out. 
 
 "The deuce you do 1" said the attorney, "I'll read 
 you the law, and bet you a thousand dollars I am right." 
 
 "Silence, sirl" cried the judge. "I'll commit you 
 for contempt of court." 
 
 "Commit and be damned!" said Thompson. "I 
 know my rights, and intend to maintain them." 
 
 " Sheriff 1 Criglerl" roared th3 infuriated judge, 
 "take Thompson to jail, and adjourn court for twenty- 
 four hours." 
 
 " Neither Crigler nor any other man shall take me 
 to jail," Thompson replied. 
 
 Crigler stepped forward to obey the mandate of 
 the court, but seeing that in Thouipson's air and atti- 
 tude significant of danger he hesitated. Meanwhile 
 Thompson went on with his authorities, artfully min- 
 gling apologies with his remarks to the bench until 
 the judge became pacified, and the trial proceeded. 
 
 In a justice's court, at one of the mountain towns of 
 Calaveras, a case came up involving the ownership of 
 a mining claim. The defendant was in possession. 
 But the plaintiff claimed that he could prove a prior 
 possession, and that the defendant had unjustly seized 
 and held with intent to defraud that to whicli he had 
 no right or title. The plaintiff was represented by 
 counsel, dressed in civilized fashion, the defendant 
 pleaded his own cause. Witnesses were called on 
 both sides, but their testimony was not of that kind 
 which gave the jury confidence in placing either party 
 in possession. After the comisel for the plaintiff had 
 spoken, tlie defendant arose. 
 
A SERMOX ON LAWYERS. 
 
 649 
 
 "Gentlemen of the jury," said he. "I appear be- 
 fore you as my own counsel, a man of like passions 
 and liabiliaments with you, supported by the right- 
 eousness of my cause, and by an implicit confidence 
 in your sense of justice. My opponent lias sum- 
 moned to his aid a lawyer, attired in a Shanglut 
 coat, and pitted him against an humble but honest 
 miner. Gentlemen of tlie jury, is this proper; is it 
 right? I have always been led to believe that tlie 
 honest and intelligent miners of Calaveras would 
 resist to the death the introduction of Shangha 
 coats, and narrow-legged pantaloons. What tlien do 
 I see ? What is my surj)ri3e to behold in this com- 
 munity of hard-working, bearded, and woolen-shirted 
 men, fastened upon us like a black sheep, the thing 
 they call a gentleman; a learned man, a lawyer, a 
 shyster, one who 1 reeds broils, who lives by his wits, 
 a shaved man, a soft-handed man ; a monkey arrayed 
 in patent-leather boots, white sliirt, stand up collar, 
 and black coat and pants. Fellow citizens we want 
 no gentlemen or lawyers here. We are honest 
 miners, hard-working miners, and capable of taking 
 care of our own affairs, of makinyr our own laws, of 
 conductmg our own trials, and of doing our own 
 hanging. Are there among us any cut-throats, 
 this man is their friend; are there here any thieves, 
 or murderers, or claim-jumpers, this person will be 
 to them as a brother — for a consideration. He 
 it is who befriends the wicked, wlio assists those 
 wlio will not work, those who live like himself by 
 their wits. And as for my opponent, think you any 
 man with a just cause would employ such assistance? 
 No my fellow-citizens; such a course impcaclu^s your 
 intelligence, and brands him a renegade, an outlaw, 
 and places him witliout the pale of tlie rights of 
 humanity. I don't mean to appeal to your prejudices, 
 but I can and will prove my prior possession to the 
 claim in question." 
 
 Plaintiff, •« That's a lie 1" 
 
 1 
 
650 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES 
 
 Justice. " Fine the plaintiff ten dollars for con- 
 tempt of court." 
 
 Defendant. "Assertion is not proof, neither are 
 the bloatings of a black -coated hireling evidence; 
 and when the plaintiff accuses n)e of lying he insults 
 the majesty of the law, the sanctity of justice, and 
 the holiness of truth." 
 
 The jury retired to deliberate ; and on returning 
 into court the foreman took his seat as near as possi- 
 ble to the door. The verdict was then rendered that 
 neither of the claimants had proved possession, and 
 that the claim was vacant. Tlie mine was a rich 
 one, and if indeed it was now without a legal owner, 
 the first upon the ground could take it up and hold 
 it. Scarcely had the foreman delivered the verdict 
 when he made a rush for the door, followed by the 
 litigants, the lawyer, and the remainder of the jury, 
 The race was a hot one, several arriving on the spot 
 sinmltaneously, when a general melee set in for the 
 possession, which was finally settled by a game of 
 freeze-out poker. 
 
 Cut-eye Foster was Yreka's first alcame, and the 
 year of his reign was 1851. He departed, with un- 
 seendy speed it is said, and left no docket. George 
 C. Vail then assumed the duties of office, and no law- 
 book ever embarrassed justice in his court. Vail's 
 docket should be placed among the curiosities of 
 literature. In it the history of each case was fully 
 written. 
 
 The following incident found recorded in its pages 
 illustrates the wa\'s of justice within this precinct. 
 A lad came into court one day, a hard-working ojRn- 
 faced fellow, and complained that a certain man for 
 whom he had worked all winter, and had driven a 
 team from Oregon, had sold all his effects and was 
 about leaving the place without paying him. The 
 boy's appeai'ance added truth to his story. With 
 two constables Vail started after the man, and found 
 
SISKH^OU. 
 
 651 
 
 him on the road with his back toward the town, mak- 
 ing the best time possible, arrested and brouglit 
 into court. He did not deny the boy's claim, but 
 affirmed that he had not the money to pav it. 
 
 "Constable," said Vail, "take that man and stand 
 him on his head ; then shake him well, and listen if 
 you can hear anythnig drop." 
 
 The prisoner was seized and the test applied ; when 
 from his pocket dropped a bag containing $2,000 in 
 gold dust, out of which was paid the boy's claim of 
 $300. The alcalde then atljudged himself and the 
 two constables one ounce each, and after weighing it 
 the bag of gold-dust was handed back to the man, 
 who was then permitted to take his departure. 
 
 Scott Bar, Siskiyou county, in 1851 aspired to the 
 dignity of possessing a justice of the peace. The 
 candidates were Bill Simmons and Buffalo John. 
 The friends of each were sanguine. Money flew, 
 whisky ran like water, and the excitement grew in- 
 tense. Buffalo John was the popular candidate, and 
 the boys elected him without a doubt; but the three 
 men on the board of canvassers were pecuniarily in- 
 terested in the election of Sinnnons. Their only 
 hope of ever getthig certain money which he owed 
 them was by making him a justice, so they declared 
 him elected. Their plea was that BufRilo John had 
 such a habit of opening his mouth every time he 
 crooked his elbow as would disqualify him from wear- 
 ing the ermine. An attempt was made to contest the 
 election, but the decision of the board was unchange- 
 able, and Bill was installed, and contirmod to g(^t 
 deeper and deeper in debt to his old friends until 
 1859, when he rolled up his blankets and departed 
 for parts unknown. 
 
 A Truckee jury had been out four hours when tlie 
 judge sent the sheriff to ascertain if they had found 
 a verdict. As he approached the room the sheriff 
 
 p hi 
 lii (■(■■■ 
 
 i • * ii I 
 
652 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCEXES. 
 
 hearing a great commotion stopped to listen. Tlien 
 he called tlie judge, who had first an ear and then an 
 eye to the key-hole. The tableau wliich presented 
 itself should be engraved and hung in every court- 
 room where jury trials obtain. 
 
 In tlie middle of the room was a table on which 
 stood a demijohn of whisky, a pall of water, and 
 half a dozen glasses. There was much condensed 
 comfort in the demijohn, as was evident from tlie 
 attitude of the already hilarious twelve, who were 
 marching in single file round the table. P^irst was 
 a man with a huge base drum upon his back, followed 
 by the foreman pounding it with all his might. The 
 third was a snare-drummer, and the fourth a juror 
 with a shrill whistle in imitation of a fife. The rest 
 were singing. 
 
 Suddenly the sheriff opened the door and the oflH- 
 cials stood before them. 
 
 "Hello, judge," hiccuped the foreman. "We 
 couldn't agree nohow, so we thought we would put in 
 the time social like s' long as we were a congenial 
 company." 
 
 William Blackburn was an alcalde at Santa Cruz 
 in 1847 and 1848. As an illustration of his unique 
 decisions, the story is told of a native Callfornian 
 who quarrel(id with a countryman, and being defeated 
 in tlie contest, revenged himr«elf by shaving the 
 mane of his antagonist's horse. The case was brought 
 before the judge for trial ; the horse was present as a 
 co!ivincing witness, and a crowd thronged the court- 
 house with curiosity to hear the judge's decision. 
 After a deliberate examination of the witnesses, the 
 malicious Californian was sentenced to receive pun- 
 ishment in conformity with holy writ, which demanded 
 an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. "Lead 
 out the prisoner and let his mane be shaved in like 
 manner as he served the horse," was the sentence, and 
 its immediate execution afforded intense amusemeut 
 
 to tl 
 saddl 
 so tl 
 mane 
 wouk 
 his aj 
 tion o 
 then I 
 emplo 
 
 VVh 
 
 fornia 
 iastau' 
 one of 
 a supe 
 daj's, I 
 great 
 fiery 1 
 ^Santa 
 ^\^^s pi 
 all ni<> 
 wj)en 1 
 his lies 
 tlie un; 
 One 
 f harnfO) 
 pcarceh 
 numbej 
 genial j 
 gJorioui 
 twixt a 
 to go i 
 fatnona 
 unstabL 
 of a ha 
 control 
 so that 
 ill speec 
 heroes. 
 
BRONA'N, OF SANTA CRUZ. 
 
 JBft 
 
 to the spectators. The judge then ordered that a 
 saddle should he stuffed with the hair of the prisoner, 
 so that justice might ride triumphantly upon the 
 mane of vice. It was expected that the alcaUlos 
 would send their decisions to the governor and await 
 his ajjproval, but Blackburn, to secure speedy execu- 
 tion of justice, usually carried out his sentence first, and 
 then reported to gubernatorial power. The only book 
 employed in this court was a New York directory. 
 
 When the early administration of justice in Cali- 
 fornia swelled from the alcalde's courts of the first 
 instance, Santa Cruz becoming ambitious organized 
 one of these superior tribunals, and a])}»(;int(d over it 
 a superior judge. As all good jurists drank in those 
 days, and as tlie legal learning of a judge was to a 
 great extent measured by his capacity for carrying 
 fiery liquids, by this measuren-iCnt Judge Brown (f 
 Santa Cruz was a most able man. The depth of him 
 w.is profound. Late into the night, and oftentimes 
 al) night, saw him at his mellownig devotions; and 
 M iien next morning he took his seat upon the bench 
 his head was seemingly so enlarged as to encompass 
 tlie universe with all its whirling worlds. 
 
 One morning a Spaniard was brought before him 
 cliariied with stealiny: a horse. The iudije was 
 ?::< arcely himself that day ; his facuuies seemed be- 
 numbed, lukewarm, dissolved in spate, neither in the 
 genial glow of original potations, nor yet in a state of 
 glorious insensibility. He was, as he would say, be- 
 twixt and between ; too good to go to hell, too bad 
 to go to heaven, and fit only to swell the limhits 
 fituonim of paradisiacal fo(»ls. At such times the 
 unstable consciousness his mind could grasp was not 
 of a happy kind ; on the contrary while having least 
 control of himself lie was most self-willed and savage, 
 so that on this morning he was almost as boastful 
 in speech and as merciless in heart as any of Honker's 
 heroes. 
 
 ; f r 
 
 v*! 
 
 1! k 
 
Ml 
 
 COURTS OF JUSTICE AND COURT SCENES. 
 
 Only a few days before, the judge himself had lost 
 a valuable horse, stolen from a vacant lot adjacent to 
 his house, which circumstance tended in no wise 
 toward the restoration of equanimity or general amia- 
 bility oi' the magistrate on the morning nicntionod. 
 The prisoner was a hard-featured, wicked-eyed man, 
 whose appearance to the dimmed vision and cloudy 
 brain of the judge now seemed absolutely hideous. 
 Unfortunately, the two ideas of his stolen horse and 
 the liorse-thief here present came together, and went 
 bobbing and circling through his brain, until joining 
 in weird embrace, the pitching of the pair over some 
 precipice into stygian shades awoke the judge with a 
 start, and lighted for a moment his eye with dire in- 
 telligence. 
 
 "Pedro Castro, stand up! I believe you are the 
 damned scoundrel who stole my horse. The sentence 
 of the court is that before the sun shall set you shall bo 
 hanged by the neck until you are dead, de-ad, d-e-a-tl." 
 
 " But, your honor," savs the district attorney, "the 
 man has not been tried.' 
 
 " Sit down, sir I This court knows its business, and 
 wants none of your interference. Mr Sheritf, see the 
 judgment executed immediately; this court stands 
 adjourned." 
 
 All present were astounded, but all knew too well 
 the temper of the judge to trifle with him in his pros- 
 ent humor ; so the condemned was removed to prison 
 while the judge went home and tucked himself in bed, 
 witii a bottle of his favorite fluid within reach, and 
 soon was snoring soundly. 
 
 The officers of the court were in a dilemma. As a 
 matter of course, the immediate execution of the 
 prisonor was not to be thought of, b xt how to meet 
 the anger of the judge when he shoui 1 have learned 
 that his order had been disobeyed ? After much dis- 
 cussion it was finally agreed that the clerk should 
 enter judgment in the records, and the sheriff* make 
 return that he had executed the prisoner. 
 
EXECUnOX AND TRIAL. 
 
 IBS 
 
 Next mcrning the judge awoke feeling unusually 
 well. There are epochs in the experience of a drunk- 
 ard when the opaque mists hefogging the mind van- 
 ish, and the return of nitelligence opens transparent 
 as an arctic sky in midwinter, and this, too, hn medi- 
 ately following a series of debauches. So shone the 
 transplendent discrimination of the Santa Cruz judge 
 as he smilingly took his seat upon the bench next 
 morning sober. The courtroom was neath' appointed. 
 Before the judgment desk sat the busy clerk writing ; 
 every officer was in his place, attentive, while the un- 
 covered spectators, awe-inspired of ignorance, stood 
 with under-jaw dropped on their breast, or si)eaking 
 one with another in low whispers. Glancing over the 
 calendar, the judge called the case of The People ver- 
 sus Pedro Castro. 
 
 " Your honor," respectfully replied the sheriff, "the 
 man has been hanged." 
 
 " Hanged 1 " exclaimed the judge, as forebodings of 
 something fearfully wrong crept over him, " I do not 
 understand you, sir ; there has been no trial yet." 
 
 "No, your honor," said the clerk, "but yesterday, 
 you will remember, your honor waived trial, sentenced 
 the defendant, and peremptorily ordered thesherifl'to 
 carry the sentence into immediate execution." 
 
 "Hanged, did you sa}''?" meditatively remarked 
 tlie judge as the situation gradually dawned upon him, 
 " well, never mind, let the trial proceed mine pro hinc. 
 All orders and judgments of this court must be justified 
 by due legal proceedings, and if the sheriff' has so far 
 erred in his understanding of the court as to lead to 
 the commission of an unhappy blunder, the court will 
 harbor no anger on that account, but will endeavor, 
 so far as strict probity will admit, to reconcile the acts 
 of the officers with the rulings of the court." 
 
 The sheriff thus mildly admonished then brought 
 before the judge, whose learned complacency once more 
 fully possessed him. the prisoner, who after a sober 
 but speedy trial was duly condenuied and executed. 
 
 4 
 
 1 
 i 
 
 
COURTS OF JUSTICE ANP COURT SCENES. 
 
 The bcncli and b.ar of San Jose from the first num- 
 bered as many able jurists as might be found in any 
 thriving town of equal size in America. To the more 
 refined gravity of sedate societies their manner might 
 seem a little coarse, and their expletives irreverent, 
 but their law, and the practical application of it, could 
 not be questioned. The court of scssioLs of San Jose, 
 in 1850, as then organized, exercised jurisdiction in 
 criminal cases of the hiijhest degree. Judyre Rogers 
 was a large, broad-featured, big-mouthed, Johnsonian 
 sort of man, able, profane, and almost brutal in his 
 vulgarity, yet withal, beh)W the superficial asperities 
 of his nature, genial and sympathetic. 
 
 One day It became his painful duty to sentence a 
 [Mexican who had been tried before him to death. 
 The prisoner did not speak English, and the judge 
 deemed it proper that the sentence, as delivered, 
 should be done into Spanish. The clerk of the court 
 being competent was asked to act as interpreter, but 
 as he was a man of shrinking sensibilities, he expressed 
 abhorrence at the thought of being the medium of 
 communicating the death intelligence to a human be- 
 ing. There are moods in the temper ot strong men 
 in which impediment only excites determination. All 
 early Californians had a smattering of Spanish. When 
 the clerk declined the office of translator, with a big 
 round oath Judge Rogers swore he would make the 
 man understand. 
 
 " You, sir, get up I levantate 1 arriba 1 Sabe ? You 
 been tried; tried by jury; damn you! sabe? You 
 have been found — what the devil's the Spanish for 
 guilty ? Never mind — sabe ? You have been found 
 guilty, and you are going to be hanged ; sabe ? 
 Hanged ? Entiende ? " 
 
 The Mexican was as courageous as the judge was 
 coarse. Evidently he did understand, for with the 
 characteristic nonchalance of his race, he replied, il- 
 lustrating by signs and gurglings the hanging and 
 choking process : 
 
HARDIHOOD 
 
 657 
 
 "Si, seiior, debo ser colgado con chicote ; ahorcado 
 asi ; no es nada ; jj^racias li Yd." " Yes, sir, I am to 
 be hanged at a rope's end ; strangled, so ; it is nothing ; 
 thank you." 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 42 
 
 9 ; i 
 
 %\ 
 
 m 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 DRINKING. 
 
 Over wide streams and mountains great we went 
 Anil, Have when Bacchus kept his ivy-tent, 
 Onwani the tiger ami tiio leopard pants 
 
 With Auian elephantj: 
 We follow Bacclius! Bacchus on the wing 
 
 A-conquering! 
 Bacchus, young Bacchus! good or ill betide 
 We dance l>efr»re him through kingdoms wide 
 Come hither, lady fair, and joined 
 
 To our wild minstrelsy. 
 
 — Keiita' Emlymion. 
 
 A NOT unfitting opening for some reflections on life 
 would be a dissertation on death. Were there no 
 death the term life would have no sii^nificance. 
 Did we not love life we should not fear death. How- 
 ever full of hateful conditions earthly existence may 
 be, all thii js having life, man, animals, plants, cling 
 to it ; the uncertainties of death are more dreaded 
 than the certain ills of life. Then, too, life is exist- 
 ence, being ; a dead thing is nothing, having no ex- 
 istence, no being. 
 
 Yet further, life feeds on death ; life lives on deatli ; 
 by the destruction of life alone is life sustained ; were 
 there no death, under the present economy of things, 
 there could be no life, no continuinsj state of exist- 
 ence. Death is the grand and universal interatance 
 of life ; the infant's first breath is the breath of the 
 dying. The whole scheme of animated nature througli- 
 out the planet, concocted and put in running order by 
 a so-called beneficent creator, involves the consumma- 
 
 r (658) 
 
 tion 
 
 man 
 
 suwtij 
 
 toth 
 
 sunie 
 
 one L 
 
 small 
 
 the Ji 
 
 Is the 
 
 versa] 
 
 is livii 
 
 ergo, j 
 
 such tj 
 
 Tiie 
 
 Japan ; 
 
 would i 
 
 arrow f 
 
 'lia wh( 
 
 wis(? is 
 
 plexy, i 
 
 always, 
 
 f'rinkint 
 
 death is 
 
 make a 
 
 to-iiiorr( 
 
 Whet 
 
 is not w 
 
 '^'^ cann( 
 
 t\\Q ques 
 
 nover ha 
 
 of lias ev 
 
 us, we m 
 
 f"r n)ore 
 ^vo will 
 
 S'Hse, th£ 
 *''<''r satii. 
 f^'ftion of 
 '"^'e, and V 
 Contented 
 
DEATH AND THE DRAM-SHOP. 
 
 659 
 
 tion of a hundred deaths to maintain one life. Ho'^v 
 lUJiiiy lives of birds and beasts and fishes are taken to 
 sustain the life of one human being from the cradle 
 to the grave ? How many fishes does a whale con- 
 sume during its lifetime ; how many small fishes will 
 one large fish eat; how many smaller fishes will a 
 small fish eat ; how many lives does it take to sustain 
 tlie life of the tiniest hisect the eye can distinguish ? 
 Is then death so terrible, behig so beneficial, so uni- 
 versal ? For all that lives is dying ; all that to-day 
 is living, to-morrow is dead ; all that is living is dying, 
 ergo, living is not living but dying, and there is no 
 such thing as life, all nature bcin ^ either dead or dying. 
 
 The dead willow is the symbol < )f decay and death in 
 Japan ; in California if such a symbol was required we 
 would take a dram-shop. 1 , ancient tiuies it was the 
 arrow of Apollo that brought sudden death ; in Califor- 
 nia when a man drops dead upon llie street, or other- 
 wis(i is taken oft" suddenly, Ave call it heart disease, apo- 
 l)lexy, the result of high living, usually, though not 
 always, meaning — rum. And men are called ff>olg for 
 drinking themselves to death, when we have just seen 
 death is essential to life, is inevitable to all, does not 
 make a pin's difference whether it comes to-day or 
 to-morrow — particularly to-morrow. 
 
 Whether we like the idea of death or dislike it, it 
 is not wise greatly to trouble ourselves ab(iut it, as 
 ■ve cannot long delay it by any such means. As in 
 tlie question of life or no life beyond the grave, as it 
 never has been determined, as no one that we know 
 of has ever come back from beyond the grave to tell 
 us, we mi^ht as well cease thinking about it, and wait 
 for more light — ^this being what we must do whether 
 we will or not. Those who through some seventh 
 sense, that not every one possesses, have been told to 
 their satisfaction, and can themselves tell to the satis- 
 faction of a hundred houses full, what life and death 
 are, and what the strte of affairs beyond, should rest 
 contented; even if, atcer expecting a future existence, 
 
 \ I 
 
DRINKING. 
 
 thoy wake up in the next world and find it not so, 
 tiiat is if they find anything. 
 
 Man is the only beast that drinks to make himself 
 drunk. In this he is more beastly than any other 
 beast, and yet he has the impudence to employ a term 
 beneath any which may be applied to himself in order 
 to emphasize a vice too low for any created thing but 
 himself to indulge in. I hold it groat injustice to 
 beasts for man to call his own base indulgences beastl}-, 
 Buasts are less beastly than men. It would be nearer 
 right for beasts to charge the more excessively dis- 
 gusting of their practices humanly, for beasts are not 
 denaturalized by their ppssions like men. And along 
 with drunkenness, and the necessit}'^ of establishing 
 laws under which to liv^e, place the faculties of speech 
 and abstraction, the one used to no small extent in 
 lying and swearing, and the other in cheating and 
 ovcrreachinij, and we have before us all the tanuible 
 differences between human and animal societies. 
 
 The word whisky is from the Gaelic ooshk'-a-pai, 
 which signifies "water of health." Usquebaugli, 
 Irish, nistje -a-hagh, also the French cau dc vie may be 
 rendered "water of life." The whisky taken to the 
 mhies, however much water there may have been in 
 it, was neither "of health" nor "of life." The truth 
 is, if anything could breed distemper, disease, and 
 death it was this same strychnine whisky. In regard 
 +f^ '.vaU-r, too often it was like Father Tom's puncli 
 brewed in the parlor of the Vatican — conspicuous for 
 its absence. "Put in the sperits first," said he to the 
 pope, "and then put in the sugar; and remendxr, 
 every dhrop ov wather you put in after that spoils tliu 
 punch." 
 
 Satan once presented himself before Noah, if \vc 
 may credit the Tahnud, to drink wine with him. T!,o 
 devil in <'his instance must have been teachinor mor;il- 
 ity, for to show the patriarch the several effects of 
 W'ne in vari(jus quantities, he slew a lamb, a lion, a 
 
 drinki 
 kings. 
 
 made ; 
 
 the S 
 
 hangin 
 
 and tJi 
 
 There 
 
 away 
 
 wJio 
 
 "obbed 
 who W( 
 utterly 
 
 bowed 
 WJioiii 
 
 Jiieinor) 
 many 
 tbomsol 
 tlicy th, 
 TJien tJi 
 
HANDY HAPPINESS. 
 
 661 
 
 pig, and an ape, the first being emblematic of man 
 before drink, the second of the effect of wine in mod- 
 eration, the third tiie condition of a sot, and the fourth 
 the senseless chatterings of the imbecile drunk. 
 
 In Greek carousals one of the first things to be 
 considered was whether it should be optional or com- 
 pulsory as to the quantity each should drink. 
 
 Intemperance is treated as a vice in one of its phases 
 only. The drunkard, so runs the tone of society, is 
 an immoral beast, whom to scorn and sliun is Christian 
 and praiseworthy. Yet wine in moderation is a bless- 
 ing, and not a curse. So arsenic and strychnine have 
 their uses, otherwise it was a mistake of the creator 
 to have made them. 
 
 Like everything else, drinking took on its own form 
 iji California. From a drinking-shop arose, outside 
 Sebastopol, the fortified town and famous tower of 
 Malakotf, which in the Crimean war was the cause 
 of so much annoyance to the allied army, from a 
 drinking-shop arose in San Francisco a race of bonanza 
 kings. 
 
 Men steeped their souls in drink. Anything was 
 made a pretext — the arrival of news, the 4th of July, 
 the Sunday festivities, the death of a comrade, a 
 hanging scrape, or simply being seized with thirst, 
 and the whole camp would be taken suddenly drunk. 
 There were always those about bar-rooms putting 
 away for years apparently upon the same cigar, and 
 who were never entirely sober, and who hob- 
 nobbed, chinked glasses, and drank tete-a-tete with all 
 who would pay the sct)re. Then there were thousands 
 utterly alone in this wilderness of civilized wild men, 
 bowed down to the earth bv their misfortunes, to 
 wliom forgetfulness obliterating woes was better than 
 memory to keep alive the good, and this forgetfulness 
 many would have at any cost. They would drink 
 themselves into a state of most unbeastly intoxicaticm; 
 they then would go to cind drink themselves sober. 
 Then there was the coming out of it, the hardest of 
 
662 
 
 DRINKING. 
 
 all, the blues, the shakes, the shame of it all ; but out 
 of it they must come or die, and that no one feels 
 more keenly than the drunken man himself. 
 
 Rum they found not less potent in its cure of dis- 
 appointment, melancholy, and heart-aches than the 
 nepenthes of Helen, that draught divine which lifted 
 the soul above all ills. Their breath was almost as foul 
 as that of Macamut the Sultan of Cambava who, if wo 
 may believe Purchas, lived on poison, and became so 
 saturated with it that his touch or breath caused 
 instant death. 
 
 Sometimes half the members of a mining camp 
 would fall into the habit of periodical sprees which 
 would last usually from two to three days. A 
 stranger once arriving at Rich Bar on Feather river 
 about three o'clock in the morning, dismounted from 
 his mule before a hotel grocery, being led thither by 
 the glimmering of a light. A sound of revelry was 
 heard within, but as all the other houses of the place 
 was wrapped in darkness the stranger made bold to 
 enter and inquire concerning accommodations for him- 
 self and beast. After arranging his affairs for the 
 night, or rather for the rest of the morning, he re- 
 marked casually to the keeper : ' 
 
 " It strikes me your customers are rather late 
 to-night." 
 
 " Oh 1 no, stranger," replied the landlord, " the boys 
 of Rich Bar generally run for forty-eight hours. 
 It's a little late this n?orning perhaps for night before 
 last, but for last night, why bless you, it's only just 
 in the shank of the evening 1 " 
 
 Time was when in our now staid and solemn-visaged 
 communities everybody drank, everybody sometimes 
 drank too much. They were measured by the number 
 of bottles they could carry, and the always-sober man 
 was a rarity. If appetite flagged thirst was excited hy 
 condiments. Drink was dealt out in horns and pointed- 
 bottom cups that would not stand so that the drinker 
 must finish the draft before laying down the cup. 
 
 T 
 
 to SJ 
 and 
 Win 
 ica, i 
 chiei 
 drinl 
 less ( 
 a fri: 
 HasI 
 tinue 
 Sp 
 to dr 
 there 
 than ] 
 Lit 
 day a< 
 body J 
 enterti 
 freely, 
 to exc( 
 Doc 
 than oi 
 to win 
 decent 
 were m 
 you pr 
 bottle c 
 gone oi 
 smoke 
 eyes, ai 
 us. Y( 
 quires s 
 from tc 
 Juan has 
 i»g with 
 Thus 
 all over 
 god Dioi 
 
THE SCIENCE OF INTOXICATIOK. 
 
 663 
 
 The weak, the weary, the beaten in life's battle, 
 to say nothing of the lazy and profligate of all ages 
 and climes, seem to crave stimulation or stupefaction. 
 "Wine, spirits, beer, and tobacco in Europe and Amer- 
 ica, hasheesh in Egypt, and opium in China are the 
 chief indulgences, but there are multitudes of minor 
 drinks such as Indian hemp and Aztec pulque of no 
 less deadly intoxicating virtues. All these prevail to 
 a frightful extent and constitute the national vice. 
 Haslieesh first elates and then depresses, and con- 
 tinued indulgence results in idiocy or death. 
 
 Speaking to Bos well of one who urged his quests 
 to drink immoderately at table Johnson said ** Sir, 
 there is no more reason for your drinking with him, 
 than his being sober with you." 
 
 Little Pope drank his bottle of burgundy every 
 day at dinner, thus warming his diminutive dried-up 
 body into that comfort which made itself known by 
 entertaining gaiety. Sir Joshua Reynolds drank 
 freely, and greatly enjoyed it, but he seldom indulged 
 to excess. 
 
 Doctor Johnson observed that "our drinking less 
 than our ancestors was owing to the change from ale 
 to wine." "I remember," said he, "when all the 
 decent people in Liclifield got drunk every night, and 
 were not the worse thought of. Ale was cheap, so 
 you pressed strongly. When a man nmst bring a 
 bottle of wine, he is not in such haste. Smoking has 
 gone out. To be sure, it is a shocking thing, blowing- 
 smoke out of our mouths into other people's mouths, 
 eyes, and noses, and having the same thhig done to 
 us. Yet I cannot account why a thing wliich re- 
 quires so little exertion, and yet preserves the mind 
 from total vacuity, should have gone out. Ever)' 
 man has something by which he calms himself; beat- 
 ing with his feet, or so." 
 
 Thus it was that all along the foothills, and indeed, 
 all over California, coequal with Plutus reigned the 
 god Dionysius, sometimes one and sometimes the other 
 
664 
 
 DRINKING. 
 
 having for the moment the supremacy. All nature 
 here was filled to overflowing with that intoxicatinsj: 
 
 • • • 
 
 power which carries men onward m their wild career 
 to happy success or soul-crushing destruction. Here 
 so often they might with the Cyclops sing, 
 
 "Ha! hal I am full of wine, 
 Heavy with the joy divine." 
 
 Thousands every day were as drunk as birds of para- 
 dise — so drunk that ants might eat their legs off. 
 
 There have never been lacking those who in a 
 breath would solve all social riddles, and eradicate all 
 social evils. There are temperance fanatics as well as 
 religious and political fanatics, and anti-slavery, anti- 
 tobacco, and anti-tea-and-coffee fanatics. It is not by 
 grinding still deeper in the mire the unfortunate and 
 vicious that gambling and prostitution are eradicated. 
 "The California wines are a disappointment and a 
 failure," says Dr Holland rejoicingly. " They are not 
 popular wines, and we congratulate the country that 
 they never can be." This is not only untrue, but it is 
 both a wicked and a silly sentiment. 
 
 Lecky perceives a remedy in the use of tea, coflee, 
 and chocolate, which checks "tJie boisterous revels 
 that had once been universal, and raising woman to a 
 new position in the domestic circle, they have contrib- 
 uted very largely to refine manners, to introduce a 
 new order of tastes, and to soften and improve tlie 
 character of men." 
 
 The Norsemen taught the English to dismiss their 
 ladies from their drinking-paiiies ; the Vikings fol- 
 lowed the same custom. 
 
 The custom of pledging in wine arose during the 
 tenth century, when it was considered a necessity for 
 a person, while drinking, to have some one to watcli, 
 lest he should be killed by some enemy or strangor 
 during the act. 
 
 In drinking to their lady-loves, the Romans used to 
 take a glass for every letter of the name ; spelling with 
 beer-glasses, Hudibras called the custom. 
 
 and 
 
 him 
 
 men, 
 
 brandj' 
 
 niost 
 
 Soonest 
 
 At ano 
 
 with 
 
 wlion 
 
 drunk; 
 drunk 
 a man \ 
 a man 
 in inch 
 
ANCIEXT AND MODERN CUSTOMS. 
 
 COo 
 
 Of a truth, they played well the Greek in their 
 cups. E pithi e apithi! QuafF, or be oft" I Cut in, or 
 cut out 1 Or in the language of our time, to pro- 
 mote hilarity it was the rule that every man should 
 tell a story, sing a song, or treat the crowd. 
 
 The drinking customs of California were peculiar, as 
 I have said, but not all the drinking and drunkenness 
 of this world has been confined to California. " I was 
 afraid he might have urged drinking," says Boswell of 
 Johnson, "as I believe he used formerly to do, but 
 lie drank port and water out of a large glass himself, 
 and let us do as we pleased. . . . After supper Dr 
 JoJmson told us that Isaac Hawkins Browne drank 
 freely for thirty years, and that he wrote his poem, 
 Dg Animi Immortalitate, in some of the last of these 
 years. I listened to this with the eagerness of one 
 who, conscious of being himself fond of wine, is glad 
 to hear that a man of so much genius and good think- 
 ing as Browne had the same propensity." Again : 
 " I reminded him how heartily he and I used to drink 
 wine together when we were first acquainted, and liow 
 I used to have a headache after sitting up with him. 
 He did not like to have this recalled, or perhaps think- 
 ing that I boasted improperly." 
 
 Jolinson expressed great contempt for claret, say- 
 ing, "a man would be drowned by it before it made 
 hhn drunk. Claret is the liquor for boys, port for 
 men, but he who aspires to be a hero nmst drink 
 brandy. In the first place, the flavor of brandy is 
 most grateful to tlie palate, and then brandy will do 
 soonest for a man what drinking can do for liiui." 
 At anothc" time he said, " Drinking may be practised 
 with great prudence ; a man who exposes himself 
 wlien he is intoxicated has not the art of getting 
 drunk; a sober man who happens occasionally to get 
 (h'unk readily enough goes into anew company, whicli 
 a man who has been drinking should never do. Such 
 a man will undertake anj'thing. He is without skill 
 in inebriation. I used to slink home when I had 
 
DRINKING. 
 
 drunk too much. A man accustomed to self-exami- 
 nation will be conscious when he is drunk, thouf^h an 
 habitual drunkard will not be conscious of it. I knew 
 a physician who for tv/enty years was not sober." 
 
 In the cities and towns there was a noticeable ab- 
 sence of homes. Stores, saloons, restaurants, board- 
 ing-houses, and hotels made a metropolis, and to this 
 day the habits of herding then contracted hang upon 
 the people. In 1849 almost every house and tent, 
 public and private, received lodgers for pay. A regu- 
 lar lodjiintj-house consisted of one room, with shelf-like 
 bunks ranged round the sides, each of which held a 
 straw mattress reeking with filth and vermin, and a 
 pair of musty blankets. Cots occupied the centre of 
 the room, and sleeping-places were chalked out on the 
 floor, where, after the beds were filled, others might 
 stretch themselves in their own blankets at a dollar a 
 night. Merchants slept in their offices, with then- 
 employes scattered about the premises on counters, 
 benches, tables, trunks, boxes, or bunks. Cooking 
 was also done in many places of business. Then eat- 
 ing-houses arose of every grade, from the Chinese 
 chow-chow to the Montgomery street saloon where, 
 in 1854, a hundred attaches waited on three thousand 
 hungry applicants daily. 
 
 The so-called hotels which sprang up in the mining 
 camps were usually built of rough boards, being of 
 one story, with a common sleeping-room, or of two 
 stories with separate apartments above. The front 
 door opened into the bar-room, which was also ofiire 
 and billiard and gambling saloon. There execrable 
 wine and spirits were sold at twenty-five or fifty cents 
 a glass to the filthiest scum of human kind that ever 
 congregated to eat, drink, smoke, chew, spit, gamble, 
 shoot, stab, and blaspheme. Adjoining was the dining- 
 room, where, on a long clothless table, flanked by 
 wooden benches, beefsteak, beans, boiled potatocp, 
 dried-apple sauce, dusky bread, pickles, and molasses, 
 
 ing, 
 
 gong 
 
PLUSH TIMKS HOTELS. 
 
 667 
 
 are served to miners, teamsters, traders, gamblers, 
 and politicians, who sit down together, the washed 
 and the unwashed, without regard to quality or caste. 
 On the same bench may be seated a clergyman, a 
 Sydney convict, an Oxford graduate, a New York 
 blackleg, and the professional drunkard of the town. 
 
 Sometimes for bunks canvas was stretched over 
 wooden frames ; a hay pillow and a pair of blankets 
 comprised the bed. Fifty or a hundred of these 
 berths were sometimes constructed in one room ; each 
 was numbered, and on signifying his wish to retire, 
 the traveller, on payment of a dollar to the hotel- 
 keeper, might hunt out his place, and without undress- 
 ing, deposit his bag of gold-dust and revolver under 
 his pillow, and go to sleep — if the fleas would let him. 
 Outside the door stands a barrel of water, and on as 
 many kegs three or four tin basins with a chunk of 
 washing-soap convenient, where morning ablutions 
 may be made. Against the house hangs a piece of 
 looking-glass, and a well-worn brush and comb are 
 conveniently fastened to a chain or string. After a 
 wash and a gin cocktail, the boarder is ready for his 
 breakfast, which is despatched with marvellous rapid- 
 ity. At meal times, if business is brisk, the bell or 
 gong does not fail to create a stampede toward the 
 dining-room door ; a rush is made for seats, and tlie 
 disappointed retire and wait for the next sitthig. In 
 the evening: all coni^reijcate in the bar-room, liorht 
 their pipes, lift up their obscene voices in boisterous 
 jokes, and strut about ready to give " particular hell" 
 to any who dare question the rights of liberty -loving 
 American citizens to do as they please. 
 
 Stores also had their bars, where, beside the sale 
 of calico, canvas, clothing, hardware, canned fruits and 
 meats, sugar, flour, bacon, and tobacco, the dice were 
 tlirown, quarters flipped, or a game of cards plaj-ed 
 for the drinks. For this purpose a table and chairs 
 were provided, where cans might be opened and oys- 
 ters eaten. 
 
DRINKING. 
 
 The restaurant is a prominent feature in the feetling 
 economy of the country. The best are kept by for- 
 eigners, Germans, French, Itahans; American res- 
 taurants are invariably second, third, or fourth rate. 
 The typical American can keep a hotel such as no 
 foreigner may liope to equal, but when it comes to 
 restaurant-feeding, the tables are turned. The cause 
 may be traced to the facts that the American hotel is 
 an American institution, while the restaurant is as 
 fully European. 
 
 In 1854 a Parisian rotisseric was set up on Kearny 
 street, where fish, flesh,, and fowl for the millit)n might 
 be roasted. In the fire-place, beneath a chinmey six 
 fe'^t wide, and resting; on an iron <j:ratini;, was a louij 
 fire of wood, parallel to which, and about eight inches 
 from it in front, were three iron rods, with numerous 
 prongs upon which to hang meat to be roasted, and 
 wheels rigged to turn it so as to cook it equally on 
 every side. Meat and game to be roasted might be 
 purchased there or elsewliere, or it might be bouglit 
 there ready cooked, but it had to be taken away as 
 soon as ready, for eating on the premises was not per- 
 mitted. Half a dollar was charged for roasting a duck 
 or chicken, and no frying, boiling, or broiling was 
 done — nothing but roasting, and that for a specific 
 consideration. Thus was the division of labor in this 
 cosmopolitan city applied to the laudable art of cookery. 
 
 Bar-room boarders formed a class peculiar to the 
 countr3\ They niight be seen lounging about tJio 
 court-house, the hotels, and the saloons without occu- 
 pation or visible means of support. They were fat, 
 sleek, well-dressed, with independent mien, with gold 
 and silver jingling in their pockets, and contentment 
 smiling in their faces. They were never known to 
 work; how then did they live? I see one with a 
 gold-headed cane in well- fitting beaver coat and pants, 
 with a glossy silk hat, pluming his well kept nmstaolie 
 and whiskers in front of a first-class boot-black estalt- 
 lishment where an extra polish had just been given to 
 
 and 
 
SEVEN TIMES ONE ARE SEVEN. 
 
 6Cd 
 
 his rcd-toppcd boots. A licavy-caserl watch — was it 
 gold? — which ho drew from his pocket told him it was 
 tt'U o'clock: a brother bummer came sauntonny; aloiiLj 
 the street, sidled U[) to him with scarcely a percep- 
 table simi of rccoofnition, and bewail a conversation 
 remarkable for its fewness of words. As amoiiy: 
 beasts and lovers in the simple presence of each other 
 there was a nmte understajiding untranslatable into 
 the vuk^ar tongue. Presently they turned and walked 
 awjiv, under the guidanceof their particular providence. 
 
 The system of free lunches has not been wholly free 
 from abuses. While it was a point of lionor in pat- 
 rons neither to eat nor drink too nmch, often there 
 were those so carried away by the eflcct of the 
 savory viands on their unruly appetites, that the 
 proprietors lost money by their i)atronage. In 
 Novcnd)er 1854 a movement was made by some fifty 
 or si/ty fashionable saloon-kee})ers in San Francisco 
 to al olish this original, yet honored institution ; 
 but S(s firm was fhe hold upon the popular stomach, 
 that it was found to be impracticable. It was esti- 
 mated that at least five thousand persons were directly 
 interested in the movement, aiid dependent on the 
 result for their daily refreshments. The connnittee 
 reported in favor of abolishing the free lunch system, 
 but the proprietors failed to adopt it, and the custom 
 was indefinitely continued. 
 
 The hotel system of 1849 reached a state of per- 
 fection under the auspices of a certain shrewd genius 
 of Sacramento. In those days whisky as a means of 
 warmth was more plentiful and profitable to inn- 
 keepers than blankets. One landlord had in his bar- 
 room seven bunks, one over another, made of flour 
 and coffee sacks stretched between two horizontal 
 poles fastened to posts, forming an uncomfortable 
 hollow just wide enough for a medium-sized man to 
 droj) into. For these seven bunks there were but one 
 ])air of blankets, and liow to satisfy seven custonu>rs, 
 and get pay for suveu bcda with but one l)air of 
 
 i 
 
 |! I 
 
in 
 
 DRINKING. 
 
 blankets was the question. But the genius of the 
 landlord was equal to the emergency. The niglits 
 were wet and cold, and naturally enough as the boys 
 came in from their supper they sat down to play for 
 the whisky before going to bed. The liquor was 
 strong, the drafts upon it copious, and in due time 
 one after another beginning to feel its comforting and 
 somnolent effects would ask for a bed. The afiable 
 and ready landlord promised to accommodate them 
 all if they would be quiet and take their turns. Con- 
 ducting the first applicant to the bunk-side of the 
 room which was shielded from view by barrels and 
 boxes, he assisted him into the topmost berth and 
 covered him nicely with the blankets. Then waiting 
 until the man was fast asleep he removed from him 
 the blankets, and spreading them in another berth 
 called for the next, and so on until all were put to 
 bed and asleep. Then taking the blankets from the 
 bed of the last customer, the landlord rolled himself 
 comfortably in them, threw himself upon the floor, 
 and slept soundly until morning. 
 
 The first man awakes shivering with cold; the 
 effects of the fiery fluid have passed away, and the 
 blankets are gone. "Who. has stolen my blankets," 
 he growls. This wakens the next who also finds 
 himself uncovered, and the next, until all are up and 
 on the floor cursing in unison the thief. Soon the 
 landlord makes one of the party, and mourns the loss 
 of his blankets. " Well 1 I must get out of this," 
 says the first. " Landlord, how much is to pay ? " 
 "Two dollars." "Two dollars 1" isn't that rather 
 tall for sleeping on two poles ? " " It is only a dollar 
 a pole," replied the landlord, "and I think it very 
 cheap; besides I have lost seven pairs of blankets 
 which you ought to pay for, so you should be satis- 
 fied." Fearing if they further demurred they would 
 have the blankets to pa}- for, each paid his two dollars 
 and withdrew, while the landlord made up his beds 
 for the next night. 
 
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 first 8( 
 
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 excliai 
 
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 tJie pic 
 
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 wJiich I 
 
 withoui 
 
 pliemes 
 
 The cu 
 
 dates b 
 
 the eai 
 
 i;^iigiou 
 
 si II Of s: 
 
 the ear 
 
 moon tl; 
 
 Hebrew 
 
 the lion 
 
 and Clu 
 
 drink y( 
 
 to majcs 
 
 ries of 
 
 Were ceh 
 
 feature. 
 
 tloes not 
 
 hcaltli 
 
 you to 
 
 ijf the m 
 
 n 
 
ORIGIN OF HEALTH POTATIONS. 
 
 m 
 
 * Wine, women, and the gods comprehended all that 
 was divine among the ancients. After the discovery 
 of America, however, the settlers becoming godless, 
 and yet not willing to be behind their primogenitors 
 in point of felicities, substituted tobacco, and never 
 before did wine, women, and tobacco, severally and 
 unitedly, lend their charms to solace and derange 
 humanity as in the case of mammon-martyrs of Cali- 
 ifornia. The last was considered a necessity, and the 
 first soon became the cordial of success, the consoler 
 of the unfortunate, and the medium of courteous 
 exchanges. 
 
 Some of man's distinguishing characteristics, show- 
 ing )iis great superiority and true nobility of soul, 
 before intimated, lies in the creation of appetites for 
 the pleasure their gratification gives; apj)etites which 
 may be renewed, not satisfied by the indulgence, but 
 which grow from what they fed on. He alone eats 
 without hunger, drinks without thirst, smokes, blas- 
 phemes, seeking for body and mind new sensations. 
 The custom of drinking healths and rememberance 
 dates back to periods of the remotest antiquity. In 
 the earliest ages as at the present time it was a 
 i^ligious as well as a social ceremonial. As Anacreon 
 sings: "Does not the earth drink the waves, the tree 
 the earth, the sea the air, the sun the sea, and the 
 moon the sun ? Then why should I not drink ?" The 
 Hebrews had their drink offerinjis, the Greeks and 
 the Romans poured out their libations to the gods, 
 and Christians to this day observe the conunand, 
 drink ye all of it. From these beginnings drinking 
 to majesty naturally followed; the health and victo- 
 ries of Augustus were drcank in Rome; and feasts 
 were celebrated in which drunkenness was the chief 
 feature. The Greek proverb adopted by the Romans 
 does not, however, say, I drink in order that your 
 health may be improved or preserved, but I invite 
 you to drink by drinking myself. It was the fame 
 of the mistress rather than her health that was to be 
 
 ■ ■■'■ 
 
072 
 
 DRINKING. 
 
 Eromotcd by the ceremony. A piece of toasted 
 read was thrown into a tankard of ale, and toast- 
 drinking followed. The custom grew in favor; men 
 a>id women were glad of any excuse for indulging the 
 gnnving appetite, so that finally health-drinking fell 
 into general observance. Healths were drank to form 
 or cement friendships, to bind a bargain, to the honor 
 of those who came and went, to the memory of the de- 
 parted — though health-drinking to the dead was, in- 
 deed, carrying the custom to an absurdity. Under 
 its auspices war was declared, and peace ratified, 
 sworn enemies became friends, and friends enemies. 
 Senthnent being thus mingled with drink, the rever- 
 ence and love expressed were in proportion to the 
 quantity of liquor quaffed ; this as well as the sup- 
 posed mark of manliness in being able to stand up 
 under large potations made excessive drinking fash- 
 ionable. He whose pliysical strength should longest 
 endure while the mental and moral faculties were 
 undergoing debasement was the best fellow ; but this 
 sad merit is now restricted in its recognition to brain- 
 less boys and silly men. -^sop, the slave, waiting at 
 table, marked the effects of excessive wine-drinking 
 in three stages ; first voluptuousness, second, drunk- 
 enness, and third, fury. 
 
 That liquor-drinking should have been carried to 
 excess in Calift)rnia is not to be wondered at. The 
 temptations were strong. Some who blame as sense- 
 less folly this species of suicide may or may not have 
 done better under similar conditions; with different 
 mental, morl, and physical organization and training 
 — accidents reflecting no special credit on the posses- 
 sor — similar to those of the gambler, the thief, the 
 drunkard, the murderer, under like circumstances to 
 theirs, the immaculate man of self-complacency would 
 certainly have been one or all of these. Men cannot 
 long endure a heavy strain upon their faculties witli- 
 out letting down. This letting down may be accom- 
 pliahed by some in one way and by others in anotln r 
 
 way. 
 Sund 
 But) 
 do ni 
 maste 
 readii 
 the p 
 vvithir 
 resort 
 good 
 and in 
 chess 
 self-im 
 unsocif 
 forge*^' 
 selves 
 and wi 
 hand, ^ 
 applied 
 of stim 
 and wh 
 sudden, 
 get war 
 always > 
 to get u 
 and tlie 
 an excu 
 simply V 
 seized ai 
 selves di 
 noble na 
 quished 
 was alree 
 In the 
 iiess was 
 was comn 
 atmosphe 
 Were at fi 
 elsewhere 
 
THEORY OP TIPPLING. 
 
 073 
 
 way. Piety will do it in frequent instances; sabbath, 
 Sunday-school, church, prayer, and bible reading. 
 But all men have not piety, never were trained to it, 
 do not know what it is. Intellectual culture, the 
 mastery of mind over base passion, which leads to 
 reading, thinking, writing, will sometimes accomplish 
 the purpose, but still fewer have these resources 
 within them. To produce self-forgetfulness, the miners 
 resorted to out-door amusements, and generally with 
 good effect; horse-racing, foot-racing, ball-playing, 
 and indoor novel-reading, card-playing, checkers, and 
 chess were common. Lonely and desolate in their 
 self-imposed ostracism, they were neither cynical nor 
 unsocial. They felt the necessity for periods of self- 
 forge<-*'ulness, and did what they could to make them- 
 selves boys again. But this was not always sufficient, 
 and with an antidote to every ill always ready at 
 hand, with characteristic directness they too often 
 applied it. During the hours of occupation some sort 
 of stimulant seemed necessary to keep up the steam, 
 and when work was over, the stop nmst not be too 
 sudden. So, if hot, they drank to get cool, if cold to 
 get warm, if wet to get dry, if dry — and some were 
 always dry — to keep out the wet. When they wanted 
 to get up an appetite for breakfast, they took a drink, 
 and then another to aid digestion. Any shadow of 
 an excuse, any cause except the true cause — which 
 simply was to solace or excite the brain — was readily 
 seized and offered. Thousands thus drank to them- 
 selves damnation, thousands are to-day drinking it ; 
 noble natures which nothing else could overcome, van- 
 quished at last by the arch-fiend. Often tlie heart 
 was already broken before the demon was let in. 
 
 In the early days of California, however, drunken- 
 ness was not the vice so nmch as drinking. Tippling 
 was common from the beginning ; the excitements and 
 atmosphere of the country were congenial to it. There 
 were at first no more confirmed drunkards here than 
 elsewhere, nor, indeed,, so many, for these were not 
 
 Cal. Imt. Poc. 48. 
 
m 
 
 DRINKING. 
 
 the kind that came to California. For the enormous 
 quantities of liquor consumed, the number of drunken 
 men was few. It was later that multitudes were 
 overcome of this evil. Then no one regarded drink 
 in the light of an enemy to steal away his brains, but 
 rather as a friend that promoted good fellowship, that 
 cheated of their tediousness the slowly-passing dismal 
 hours, that banished sorrow, that lifted care with in- 
 stantaneous magic hand from off the brain, and gave 
 it sweet oblivion, that inspired bold thoughts, that 
 enlarged the soul, that etherealized the tamest joys, 
 and threw a halo over coarse surroundings. Hard 
 work and hard drinking with many went hand in 
 hand ; but such men drunkenness seldom overtook, or 
 if it did, it was occasional rather than common. 
 
 It has been said that there is something in the cli- 
 mate of California which superinduces delirium tre- 
 mens with less provocation than elsewhere. I do not 
 know what it is, unless itbe the same that superinduces 
 business and social delirium, auri sacra fames. These 
 were the days of delirium, and he who was not de- 
 lirious might thank his numbness and stupidity for it. 
 California life was but a succession of alternate periods 
 of delirium and apathy. 
 
 Drinking-saloons were a prominent feature in all 
 the mining camps. Sometimes of logs, sometimes of 
 white cloth nailed over a frame, but usually of boards, 
 lined on the inside with cloth or paper, or both, not 
 more than one or two stories in height, but spreading 
 over considerable ground, they were conspicuous in 
 appearance, and generally occupied a central position. 
 Before the door, or if the weather was cold, inside 
 around the stove, were seats which any one, whether 
 patrons or not, might occupy. On one side of the 
 room was the bar, over which liquor was sold, and in 
 various parts of it were green baize-covered card 
 tables and chairs, where "poker," "seven-up," and 
 " euchre" were played, both for money and for drinks. 
 <One or more large long tables, surrounded by benches 
 
FREE LUNCH. 
 
 875 
 
 and chairs, stood near the centre of the room, where 
 professional gamblers presided, and sometimes two or 
 three billiard tables were placed in the end farthest 
 from the bar. Private rooms for gambling purposes 
 opened from the main saloon, where two or three 
 days were often spent by one party without intermis- 
 sion. At the back door, huge piles of bottles, casks, 
 cans, and cigar and tobacco boxes conveyed some faint 
 idea of the extent of the business within. 
 
 In the larger saloons tobacco and cigars were sold 
 from a stand fitted up in one corner, and an elaborate 
 luncheon was set out on a table once or twice a day, 
 of which he who bought a drink might partake with- 
 out extra charge. This " free lunch," as it was called, 
 consisted at first of only crackers and cheese, but com- 
 petition gradually enlarged the ideas of saloon propri- 
 etors until finally it grew into a sumptuous repast of 
 soups, fish, roast meats, and side dishes. At these 
 places one could obtain, in addition to a drink which 
 cost perhaps twenty-five cents, a dinner which else- 
 where would cost twice or thrice that sum. 
 
 As a matter of course there were all grades and 
 descriptions of saloons, from the lowest ** bit " house, 
 where "rot-gut" whisky, "strychnine" brandy, and 
 divers other poisonous compounds with slang names 
 were sold, to the most gorgeous drinking palaces, with 
 large mirrors and magnificent oil paintings, and whose 
 fittings and furnishings alone cost sometimes ten, 
 twenty, or thirty thousand dollars. In 1853 there 
 were in San Francisco 537 places where liquor was 
 sold, 46 of which were public gambling houses, 743 
 bartenders officiating. No wonder that hard times 
 set in. A thousand leeches, poison-mongers, in half 
 a thousand houses, in a comparatively small society, 
 as San Francisco was then, this alone was enough to 
 bring the curse of God upon the place, not to mention 
 prostitution, political bribery, mercantile dishonesty, 
 and twenty other forms of demoralization. 
 
 The saloon-keeper was one of the dignitaries of the 
 
676 
 
 BRINEmO. 
 
 town; he interfered to prevent bloodshed, was the 
 umpire in disputes occurring within his precincts, and 
 after the battle attended the wounded, cared for the 
 dying, and buried the dead. In the more lawless dis- 
 tricts, a barricade of bags of sand or other bullet-proof 
 barrier was constructed inside the bar under the 
 counter, so that when shooting became lively the bar- 
 tender had only to drop behind his fortification and 
 be comparatively safe, while those in the middle of 
 the room must drop flat on the floor, or shield their 
 hearts with table, chair, or bench. 
 
 Comedy, however, was the rule, and tragedy the 
 exception, and the saloon was the scene of many prac- 
 tical jokes. Catch-bets for drinks, and tricks to bring 
 the uninitiated into ridicule and make them " treat, ' 
 commanded the resources of the inventive brain. A 
 common "sell" was for some one, usually a judge or 
 other respectable and dignified personage, to invite 
 the crowd to participate, with the welcome words, 
 " Come, boys, let's all take a drink 1 " Soon the bar 
 is surrounded by a score of ready fellows, each watch- 
 ing in happy mood the concocting of his favorite 
 draught. Touching their glasses all, and bowing ac- 
 knowledgments to their inviter, twenty arms are up- 
 lifted, twenty heads thrown back, twenty watering 
 mouths are opened, and down twenty itching throats 
 twenty nectareous potations erode their way, and 
 as the glasses touch the counter again, the inviter 
 sotto voce observes, "And now, boys, let us all pay 
 foriti" 
 
 Innumerable were the toasts given; besides the 
 world-wide and stereotyped " I drink your health," 
 "I pledge you," "here is to you," "my regards," 
 "my respects, gentlemen," were local and individual 
 toasts, as well as those improvised for occasions. 
 Usually they were short and caustic. "Here's luck," 
 "here's fun," "here's at you," "here we go," "here's 
 all the hair off^ your head," " I am lookmg towards 
 you," "until to-morrow," "here's another nail iu 
 
 you: 
 
 you 
 
 T 
 
 adap 
 tome 
 mear 
 fessic 
 noble 
 practj 
 and g 
 derly 
 Dec 
 formir 
 brilliai 
 arm's J 
 ract. 
 nient 
 display 
 list of c 
 There 
 brandy 
 torn an 
 mode 
 taken 
 
 Sund 
 
 the gei 
 
 There 
 
 there a 
 
 prospect 
 
 once the 
 
 blaspliei 
 
 lighted 
 
 «iid chai 
 
 and tabl 
 
 of lonel 
 
 tractive 
 
 i'nproper 
 
 sc'on ther 
 
 as was oft 
 
 n 
 I 
 
THE ARTISTIC BAR-TENDER. 
 
 877 
 
 your coffin," "here's hoping these few lines will find 
 you enjoying the same blessing." 
 
 The apt and chameleon-like bar-keeper, who could 
 adapt himself to the color and moods of every cus- 
 tomer, though not a proprietor, was a person of no 
 mean consequence. Studying his business as a pro- 
 fession he rose in it, ennobling himself while he en- 
 nobled his occupation, as he acquired skill. With 
 practice his clumsy fingers became pliable, and bottles 
 and glasses flew from shelf, hand, and counter in or- 
 derly confusion. 
 
 Decanters tipped their several ingredients into the 
 forming compound with magic nicety, and cascades of 
 brilliant liquids poured from glass to glass held at 
 arm's length with the precision of a rock-bound cata- 
 ract. Nor was the profession restricted in its advance- 
 ment to mere mechanical skill. Ingenuity was 
 displayed in concocting new nectar, and soon a long 
 list of delicious beverages became as household words. 
 There was the champagne cocktail, the mint julep, 
 brandy smash, hot whisky punch, sulky sangaree, 
 tom and jerry, and a host of others, but the usual 
 mode of taking drink was, as most other things were 
 taken in California — straight. 
 
 Sundays, evenings, and at all times saloons were 
 tlie general rendezvous for the entire population. 
 There loafers congregated and business men met; 
 there all flocked to learn the news, to talk over the 
 prospects of the times, to beguile tedious hours, and 
 once there smoking, drinking, gambling, stag-dances, 
 blasphemous yells, and shooting followed. Brilliantly 
 lighted at night, with a roaring fire in cold weather, 
 and chair and benches on which to sit and smoke, 
 and tables at which to drink and play, in those days 
 of loneliness and discomfort they were the most at- 
 tractive places in the town. Nor was it considered 
 improper or disreputable for a respectable man to be 
 soon there as I have before remarked, even although, 
 as was oftentimes the case, the scene was graced by 
 
078 
 
 DRINKING. 
 
 the presence of the painted jeaebels, and the walls 
 adorned with pictures of female figures with opulent 
 undraped charms, and bunds dispensed loud music to 
 devil-inspired dancers, and the smoky air was thick 
 with oaths and imprecations. " There is nowhere 
 else to go," the solitary and forlorn T*ould say, and 
 when compelled to choose between their miserable 
 homes and these flaunting halls of hell, the average 
 conscience became quite pliable and accommodating. 
 
 In such society and with such surroundings it was 
 almost impossible for one to live and never drink ; 
 and he who in righteous wrath repudiates the idea as 
 absurd knows nothing about it. Man must associate 
 with his fellows; he cannot long remain alone. 
 Neither can he live long individual and peculiar in 
 his habits unless he be possessed of a hermit's nature 
 — and I know of no hermit who ever came to Cali- 
 fornia. Hence it is, sooner or later, he is bound to 
 fall into the ways of those about him. An invitation 
 to drink, in those days, was almost equivalent to a 
 command, and to decline was frequently to give 
 offense. He who refused was deemed either prudish 
 or churlish, neither of which qualities his companions 
 were disposed long to tolerate. The honest miner, 
 the unshaven, woollen-shirted, drinking, swearing man 
 was the social ideal, it was dangerous for a man to 
 pretend to be better than his fellows. Often men 
 have been mobbed in the mines for wearing a stove- 
 pipe hat, or black coat, or for shaving his chin, or 
 for doing in any way as others did not do. Then if 
 you accept an invitation to drink with others j ou 
 must sometimes return the compliment ; failing to do 
 so is worse than not to drink at all. 
 
 The English custom which, within the bounds of 
 respectability, limited drinking to dinner and evening 
 did not here obtain. Having just dined was oftener 
 an excuse for declining than a pretext for accepting. 
 Dinner did not divide the day as in older and more 
 staid communities; there was as much to be done 
 
ROUGHS AND ROARING CAMPS. 
 
 67!) 
 
 after dinner as before, and people came higher to work 
 ratlier than to enjoy themselves. Every moment 
 not devoted to the accomplishment of the purpose 
 that tore them from home and friends seemed wasted. 
 
 To drink alone was to demean one's self; it smacked 
 too niuch of drinking for the love of it, which even 
 in their wild times, and notwithstanding all men did 
 it, was held disgraceful. Such a one was cither an 
 *onery cuss* or a 'whiskey-bloat,' or both; and so 
 with the high-minded and open-handed, the bar- 
 keeper must drink if there was no one else available. 
 
 Not unfrequently in the remoter and more isolated 
 camps, from snow or flood, supplies would become 
 low and prices advance enormously. In such cases a 
 scarcity of food was more philosophically endured 
 than the total absence of liquor and tobacco. After 
 such a season of abstinence, the first train arriving 
 would be surrounded by a crowd of thirsty souls 
 with bottles, cups, coffee-pots, and saucepans, all 
 eager for a supply of the precious liquid. Ten dollars 
 was once offered for the privilege of using a straw at 
 the bung of a keg of New England rum. Excess 
 followed as a matter of course, and soon every phase 
 of inebriety was manifest, from prattling jocundity to 
 roaring intoxication. Patriotism would break forth 
 in song and dance ; wliitli thick tongues and husky 
 throats the sons of Erin would sound the glories of 
 the Emerald Isle, the Germans of their fatherland, 
 the Frenchmen of sweet France; Yankees apostro- 
 phized their growing country. Englishmen chal- 
 lenged all the world to mortal combat, Spaniards, 
 mounted on mule or mustang, dug their long rowels 
 into the animal's bleeding sides, and rushed hither 
 and thither making the hills ring with their delirious 
 shouts. Old quarrels were revived, and the flash of 
 steel and discharge of revolvers, as much to the dan- 
 er of bystanders as to the combatants themselves, 
 ent their peculiar charm to the occasion. 
 
 Iklany drank spasmodically ; hard workers attending 
 
680 
 
 DRINKING. 
 
 closely to business for days and weeks without touch- 
 ing a drop of liquor, then took to drink for a day 
 or a week, r nd after their debauch returned to their 
 work with new vigor. Business is one thing and 
 pleasure another, they say — one should be wholly 
 distinct from the other. In Europe all drink and 
 without ceasing, but usually in moderation, fend mixed 
 with their work which is light ; in California the two 
 were somewhat separated, and the work was harder. 
 
 Gulliver assured his horse friends, the Houyhnhnms, 
 "that wine was not imported among us from foreign 
 countries to supply the want of water or other drinks, 
 but because it was a sort of liquid which made us 
 merry, by putting us out of our senses, diverted all 
 melancholy thoughts, begot wild extravagant imagin- 
 ations in the brain, raised our hopes and banished 
 our fears, suspended every oftl 3 of reason for a time, 
 and deprived us of the use of our limbs, till we fell 
 hito a profound sleep, although it must be confessed 
 that we always awoke sick or dispirited, and that the 
 use of this liquor filled us witli diseases which made 
 our lives uncomfortable and short." This was at a 
 time when Swift's contemporary. Sir Richard Steel, 
 says of England that "the common amusement of 
 our young gentlemen, especially of such as are at a 
 distance from those of the first breeding, is drinking." 
 And furthermore that "it is very common that evils 
 arise from a debauch which are Mital, and always such 
 as are disagreeable." 
 
 There are many like the learned Samuel Johnson 
 and Hazlitt, who can abstain wholly, but who cannot 
 practise abstinence. There are men, who from their 
 very nature, can do nothing in moderation. Men of 
 genius, particularly, being of necessity unevenly bal- 
 anced in mind, tend to every species of excess. Broad 
 laxity follows severe effort, and free indulgence tem- 
 porary abstinence. For '.any years Johnson drank 
 no wine; but toward his latter days he took it up 
 
SOME OLD-TIME DRINKERS. 
 
 681 
 
 again, and greedily swallowed large goblets of drink, 
 niostly in private. Often he advised Boswell to 
 abandon the bottle, but Bozzy loved his potationt;, and 
 preferred his sottish enjoyments to any other. 
 
 Johnson. "I did not leave off wine because I 
 could not bear it ; I have drunk three bottles of port 
 without being the worse for it. University college 
 has witnessed this." 
 
 Boswell. " Why, then sir, did you leave it off?" 
 
 Johnson. " Why, sir, because it is so much better 
 for a man to be sure that he is never to be intoxi- 
 cated, never to lose the power over himself I shall 
 not begin to drink wine again till I grow old and 
 want it." 
 
 Boswell. " I think, sir, you once said to me that 
 not to drink wine was a great deduction from life." 
 
 Johnson. "It is a diminution of pleasure, to be 
 sure ; but I do not say a diminution of happiness. 
 There is more happiness in being rational." 
 
 A Boswell will tell you that benevolence lies at the 
 root of drunkenness. A friend asks you to drink with 
 him, your entertainer begs you to take wine with 
 him, and rather than offend, or seem discourteous, or 
 send a chill round the table, you throw aside your 
 scruples, drink once, then again and again, and soon 
 know next to nothing. 
 
 The practice of urging persons to drink cannot 
 be too plainly condemned. To some, drink is dis- 
 tasteful, to others hurtful, to others maddening, to 
 not a few — death. It may be pleasure for him who can 
 with ease command his appetite, for him to whom ex- 
 cess in drink has no temptations, by appealing to 
 friendship, good-fellowship, and in the name of hospi- 
 tality to wrap around those he pretends to love a 
 sheet of flaming fire which shall consume them. 
 
 Said Sir Joshua Reynolds, " At first the taste of 
 wine was disagreeable to me, but I brought myself to 
 drink it that I might be like other people. The 
 pleasure of drinking wine is so connected with pleasing 
 
682 
 
 DRINKINO. 
 
 your company, that altogether there is something of 
 social goodness in it." 
 
 Though wine may make us better pleased with our- 
 selves, it does not always make others better pleased 
 with us. Such is not always the effect, I say, but 
 sometimes it is. Many become more agreeable in 
 society as they forget themselves, so that they do not 
 go too far and forget others. Although drink fur- 
 nishes one with neither wit nor learnhig, it often breaks 
 down the barriers and liberates such abilities as be- 
 fore were confined. It anlraatcL what before was 
 dormant. It thaws congealed ideas, and unlocks the 
 tongue. The effect of this may be pleasing or 
 otherwise. 
 
 After all it is a skulking for brilliant effect which 
 manliness despises. Better a mind so cultivated and 
 manners so assured that a man can be as much him- 
 self while in his senses, as when beside himself 
 
 When alone, as well as when in company, laboring 
 under a humiliating sense of awkwardness or inferi- 
 ority, many drink to get rid of themselves. They would 
 send their thoughts far away from themselves, from 
 the proximate objects and events that annoy them to 
 more pleasing scenes and subjects. Thus wine gives 
 pleasure by taking from us pain. And in every 
 pleasure we have the right to indulge unless it brings 
 evil upon ourselves or others. Then the right is no 
 longer ours. A good which is counterbalanced by an 
 evil is not good but evil, as it tends to evil, and is but 
 the pleasurable beginning of an evil which has a pain- 
 ful ending. 
 
 There is little difference between drunkenness and 
 insanity, and you may as well look for fixed resolve 
 and determinate principle in an idiot as in the hab- 
 itual drunkard. Having passed certain stages, he 
 is absolutely powerless to reform; and when jeers 
 and insults are heaped upon one of these unfortunates, 
 one hardly knows which to pity most, the sot or the in- 
 human rabble ; when one sees the so-called respectable 
 
INTEMPERANCE AND IMBECILITY. 
 
 68S 
 
 of untried virtue, scoff at the fallen of any quality, one 
 hardly knows which to pity most, the vanquished 
 fight' r of life's battle, or the pharisee, proud in 
 in being so unlike these publicans. 
 
 How the big, blustering coward is sometimes de- 
 ceived by the slender form, and modest demeanor, and 
 thin, pale face which often cover firmness and true 
 courage I Yet the closer observer sees in the eye, 
 and mouth, and features, lineaments as plainly indica- 
 tive of character as lines chiseled by the sculpter's 
 graver. 
 
 Once there was a half-drunken Irishman at Foster's 
 bar who attempted to force a small, sickly-looking 
 youth to drink. Seizing the boy by the arm, he 
 dragged him to the counter where a glass stood ready. 
 
 " Drink that or I'll murder you," said the Irishman. 
 
 "I will not," calmly replied the boy, not a trace of 
 color appearing in his face. 
 
 "Then, damn you, you shall clear out I" exclaimed 
 the infuriated Irishman, and taking the boy 
 by the collar of his shirt he kicked him into the 
 street. The youth caught the awning-post with his 
 left arm and continued to swing round it, boy like. 
 His right hand he put behind him. 
 
 " You dare not follow me out," said he, in the same 
 low, passionless voice which had characterized his 
 whole conversation. Instantly the Irishman made a 
 spring at him. The boy swung himself once or twice 
 round the post to gather force; then as he came 
 round he sprang upon his burly foe and drove a long, 
 sharp, double-edged knife into his breast kilhng him 
 instantly. The boy was tried and acquitted. 
 
 Rum has ruined its thousands, is still ruining them. 
 War with all its horrors, pestilence, and famine are 
 harmless as compared with the deadly work of 
 the demon drink. A five years' war four times every 
 century, each as disastrous to life as was that for the 
 Union, would not kill as many men as excessive 
 drinking now is killing every day. Dead they are, 
 
 m 
 
DRINKINO, 
 
 though their vile breath has not yet left the body, and 
 though their staggerings betoken corporeal animation. 
 '* I have bought my ticket through," said a poor 
 heart-broken wretch as he stood upon the wharf in 
 conversation with a friend while waiting the departure 
 of the steamer. He was a young man, not yet 
 thirty, tall, well built, and intellectual, but his dress 
 betokened poverty. Broken sentences came through 
 quivering lips ; despair was pictured in his face, and in 
 his eyes stood moisture wrung by misfortune from the 
 heart. " I have bought my ticket through," he said, 
 "but I shall not go home. Seven years I have spent 
 in California, and all that time I have drunk to excess. 
 What is home to me now — home without hope? 
 Doubtless I shall join Walker, in Nicaragua; I care 
 not what becomes of me 1 " So have sunk from sight 
 a hundred thousand and more of the immigration of 
 the first decade. 
 
CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 (htio, I believe in dioet 
 
 Without a penny for the price, 
 Full often have they got me meat, 
 Good wine to drink and friends to treat; 
 And sometimes, too, when luck went worse. 
 They've stripped me clean of robe and purse. 
 
 —RuUif(f^f, 
 
 There needeth not the hell that bigots frame 
 
 To punish those who err; earth in itself 
 
 Contains at once the evil and the cure; 
 
 And all-suflicing nature can chastise 
 
 Those who transgress Iier law — she only knows 
 
 How justlv to proportion to the fault 
 
 The punishment it merits. 
 
 —Shelley. 
 
 Johnson. Depend upon it, sir, this is mere talk. Who is ruined by 
 gaming? You will not tind six instances in an age. There is a strange rout 
 made about deep play, whereas you have many more people ruined by ad- 
 venturous trade, and yet we do not hear such an outcry against it. 
 
 Thrale. There may I>e few absolutely ruined by deep play, but very 
 many are much hurt in their circumstances bv it. 
 
 Johnson. Yes, sir, and so are very many by other kinds of expense. 
 
 • • • » • • • 
 
 Johnson. It is not roguery to play with a man who is ignorant of the 
 game while you are master of it, and so win his money, for he thinks he can 
 play better than you, as you think you can play better tlian he, and the su- 
 perior skill carries it. 
 
 Erskine. He is a fool, but you are not a rogue. 
 
 Johnson. That's much about the truth, sir. It must be considered that 
 a man who only does what every one of the society to which he belongs 
 would do, is not a dishonest man. 
 
 BoswelL So, then, sir, yon do not think ill of a man who wins, perhaps, 
 forty thousand pounds in a winter T 
 
 Johnson. Sir, I do not call a gamester a dishonest man, but I call him an 
 unsocial man, an unprofitable man. Gaming is a mode of transferring prop- 
 erty without producing any intermediate good. Trade gives employment to 
 numbers, and so produces mtermediate g<rad. 
 
 — BonotWa Johnton. 
 
 A PRIMARY principle of ethics is that every indi- 
 vidual may freely act his pleasure as long as he docs 
 not interfere with the rights of othere. He may 
 claim for himself every gratification which does not 
 
 (685) 
 
680 
 
 OAMBUNO. 
 
 limit others in their gratifications. He may come 
 and go, he may buy and sell, he may marry, preach, 
 or develop a mine, and in all this legitimately better 
 his condition, provided he does not make worse the 
 condition of those, or any of them, with whom he 
 comes in contact. 
 
 The true theory of business is that traffic which 
 does not result in reciprocal advantages to buyer and 
 seller is illegitimate, or at least abnormal. Let it be 
 registered in men's minds that he who accumulates 
 wealth to the loss of another is a bad man following 
 a bad business. He is a swindler, and should be pun- 
 ished as one. 
 
 In this way men may build railroads; but they 
 must not employ the power thus acquired in imposi- 
 tions upon the people, subsidizing competition to keep 
 up iniquitous prices, buying legislators, and corrupt- 
 ing morals and society, building up or ruining this 
 man or that town or industry, and exercising a hate- 
 ful tyranny over a long-suffering and pusillanimous 
 people. Men may buy and sell wheat, but they may 
 not so ' corner ' it as by their trickery to make con- 
 sumers pay twice or thrice its value. Men may in 
 good faith develop mines; but the manipulation of 
 mining stocks as practised by brokers and* bonanza 
 chiefs is worse than ordinary gambling and stealing — 
 being more on a par with three-card monte, and like 
 cheating and confidence games. 
 
 We all know the evils of gambling ; how It dissat- 
 isfies society in its daily occupations, absorbs thought, 
 dissipates energy, and renders men unfit for that 
 stca'iy application and reasonable economy which 
 alono make a community prosperous. It destroys the 
 fuu;r qualities both of mind and feeling; it makes 
 men moody and nervous, makes them live a life of 
 extremes, now exhilarated by success, now despondent 
 through failure. What folly I Some play for money, 
 but with the percentage against them they should 
 know that in the end they are sure to lose. Some 
 
 ploy for pie 
 
 they must k 
 
 that is sure 
 
 Epicurus ( 
 
 No one has 1 
 
 ure in any n 
 
 "This kind 
 
 therefore ess 
 
 cultivates a ] 
 
 deterioration 
 
 occupations u 
 
 money receiv 
 
 Is not socie 
 
 am>', prostltu 
 
 dined to carr^ 
 
 gambling gan 
 
 of our way t 
 
 questionably i 
 
 gamblers. T] 
 
 wax cards or 
 
 variety of wa; 
 
 an inferior art 
 
 due advantage 
 
 who will not 
 
 that as a rule 
 
 ing and overrt 
 
 than in the s 
 
 many of the 
 
 assert that thi 
 
 political, comm 
 
 trated by the 
 
 one day than U 
 
 tutes, and poly: 
 
 Since very ej 
 
 famous by mos 
 
 a gamester to 
 
 laws against ^ 
 
 Saturnalia, wert 
 
 theless the peo 
 
FOR PROFIT OR PLEASURE. 
 
 687 
 
 ploy for pleasure ; but if thev ponder for a moment 
 they must know that like dnnk it is but a pleasure 
 that is sure to end in pain. 
 
 Epicurus dcnouncecfall pleasures productive of pain. 
 No one has the moral right to obtam money or pleas- 
 ure in any manner detrimental to public well-being. 
 "This kind of action," says Herbert Spencer, "is 
 therefore essentially anti-aocial, sears the sympathies, 
 cultivates a hard egotism, and so produces a general 
 deterioration of character and conduct." All moral 
 occupations imply the rendering of an equivalent for 
 money received. 
 
 Is not society here, as in other cases, such as polyg- 
 amy, prostitution, monopoly, and mongolianism, in- 
 clined to carry the sentiment against the professional 
 gambling game to an extreme ? Why go so far out 
 of our way to play the prude or hypocrite? Un- 
 questionably there are honest gamblers and dishonest 
 gamblers. There are professional gamblers who will 
 wax cards or use an imperfect pack, or cheat in a 
 variety of ways, just as a shop-keeper will sell you 
 an inferior article, overcharge, or otherwise take un- 
 due advantage ; there are gamblers and shop-keepers 
 who will not do these things. It is safe to assert 
 that as a rule there is proportionately no more cheat- 
 ing and overreaching in the clubrooms of our cities 
 than in the stock boards of our cities, or in very 
 many of the avenues of commerce. It is safe to 
 assert that there is more iniquity committed, more 
 political, commercial, and social demoralization perpe- 
 trated by the monopolists of the United States in 
 one day than is achieved by all the gamblers, prosti- 
 tutes, and polygamists in a twelve-month. 
 
 Since very early times gambling has been held in- 
 famous by most civilized nations. Aristotle declared 
 a gamester to be no better than a thief. Stringent 
 laws against games of hazard, except during the 
 Saturnalia, were passed by the Roman senate; never- 
 theless the people played. Jews, Mahometans, and 
 
 i 
 
688 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 Christians all set their faces against games of chance. 
 The Talmud censures them. No Hindoo gambler 
 was allowed to testify in courts. The duke of Clai- 
 eiice in 1469 prohibited gambling in his household 
 except at the '* xii dayes in Christmasse." 
 
 Silly Charles VI. of France played with painted 
 cards ; some say they were first made for his use in 
 1392, though of this there is no proof; since which 
 time the mischief has often been played with them, 
 though this was not the fault of the cards. 
 
 During the reign of Henry VII. card-playing was 
 very generally in vogue ; so much so that it was prohib- 
 ited by law. Apprentices the edict especially regarded, 
 forbidding them to play with cards except during 
 the Christmas holidays, and in their master's houses. 
 
 Peculiar as was the character of some of the 
 wagers in California, there were none here so inde- 
 cent or irreverent as were exposed by the law courts 
 of England fifty years ago — instance the case of 
 Joanna Southcote, an unmarried woman, upon whose 
 delivery of a male child, a new Messiah, within cer- 
 tain days was bet £200 to £100; a wager that 
 Napoleon would be removed from St Helena within 
 a certain time, a wager upon the sex of a feminine- 
 looking man, upon a decree of a court, upon the 
 death of one's father, and the like. 
 
 The merchant does not grow rich, as moralists 
 sometimes aver, by the debauched lives of the young, 
 nor the husbandman by the scarcity and consequent 
 dearness of his grain, nor the architect by the deca}'^ 
 of buildings. It is true that doctors live by the 
 diseases of mankind, and priests by the principle of 
 evil, and lawyers by disputes. Grood springs from 
 evil, and life from death. As Montague says, *' Ce que 
 considerant, il m'est venu en fantasie, comme nature 
 ne se desment point en cela de sa general polici, car 
 les physiciens tiennent que la naissance, nourissement, 
 et augmentation de chacque chose est I'altdration et 
 corruption d'une aultre." 
 
CHANCE OR SUPERSTITION. 
 
 689 
 
 Some teach us how to be learned, others how to bo 
 rich, and others, again, how to bo lucky. Gamblers 
 liave their doctrine of chances and runs of luck. Thus, 
 if a particular number or card wins twice or thrice in 
 succession, the chances are in favor of its winning 
 once or twice more. 
 
 Chance is a superstition; tlierc is no such thing as 
 accident, no deviation from the inexorable laws of na- 
 ture, any more than there is a veritable war-god, 
 weather-god, or Great Cloud Manipulator. 
 
 The laws of fortune are not unjust norpartial because 
 they tend to unequal favors. We may not blaspheme 
 fortune for sending the ball into the wrong pocket, 
 when with our own hand we forced it there ; or for 
 jliv'ing us inferior cards, when with our own finjjcers 
 we shuttled and dealt them. Like all the laws of na- 
 ture and of man, the laws which govern chance are 
 reasonable and just. Tliore is no guardian angel or 
 spiteful demon lurking near the cards or dice to turn 
 them in our favor. We turn them with t)ur fingers. 
 The operation is jairely a n)echanical one. Put the 
 dice into the cup always exactly hi tlie same manner, 
 and shake tliem alwa3's the same, and the same side 
 is always sure to be up[)ermost. It is not true that 
 the dice of the gods arc always loaded. Men may 
 load their dice to suit themseh'^es, and blind chance 
 be frustrated if tliey have the ability. That is to 
 say, dice will fall as they are thrown and there is no 
 chance about it, 
 
 Gaml)i iig is reprobate not chiefly because it tends to 
 the ruin cfliira who indulges in it, his family and friends ; 
 not chiefly because of its evil associations and aliena- 
 tion from healthy pursuits, but because it produces 
 profit and pleasure to one at the cost of loss and pain 
 to another. It nmst be admitted that while many 
 came to California to seek their fortunes, some came 
 to seek for other people's fortunes. 
 
 We are apt to regard gambling, drunkenness, licen- 
 tiousness, indulgence in the use of tobacco and the 
 
 Cal. Int. I'of. 44 
 
 r 
 
 •.'if 
 
GAMBUNG. 
 
 like, as unnatural or artificial tastes and passions. 
 But is this the fact ? Gambling has been practised 
 by all people in all ages. In the infancy of the race, 
 and in rude societies, it assumes the form of games, 
 physical and animal contests ; in more advanced com- 
 munities, stocks and securities become the favorite 
 gamble, and indeed, the spirit of gambling underlies 
 all commerce and industrial activities. And so with 
 regard to the other vices named, there appears to be 
 in man natural appetites craving indulgence. Intox- 
 icating drink is common to all time and places and to 
 avoid excess in this or other things is simply perfec- 
 tion. Why did all the world take so quickly and so 
 naturally to the use of tobacco when it was discovered, 
 if the craving for it did not spring fron. a natural 
 appetite ? 
 
 So with a hundred other great and small ly fannies 
 and swindles, such as those so frequently perpetrated 
 by gas and water companies, by boards and oflfice- 
 holders, by men in any and every position where they 
 happen to hold some power over their fellows. So long 
 asthese gross iniquities are permitted ; so long as the 
 grinding monopolist and the unprincipled stock-jobber 
 ate permitted to ply their nefarious trade, why be so 
 harden the honest gambler who stoops to no such vile 
 advantage ? He, alone, who makes it a profession is 
 disgraced. He, alone, is infamous. An honest man 
 he may be, courteous, chivalrous, unselfish, yet the 
 filthiest blackguard that * bucks' against his bank may 
 hold him in social contempt. 
 
 The prudish English put the finest point on this 
 absurdity. It is all right to play whist and liko 
 games, all betting "just to make it interesting, you 
 know," all of necessity pretending that they care 
 nothing for the money ; but change the game, and 
 bet a little more freely, and the clergymen and women 
 particularly are horrified. The game of poker is be- 
 coming reputable in America among free-and asy 
 and not over-refined people, provided the stak' »< . vfi 
 
DISTINCTIONS WITHOUT A DIFFERENCE. 
 
 G»l 
 
 not too high. But what are high stakes ? In a com- 
 pany of spinsters, in the drawing-room of a second- 
 class Connecticut boarding-house, five cents 'ante' 
 might be deemed extravagant, while in the south, 
 during the glorious days of slavery, a negro ante and 
 twenty on the call was deemed moderate playing. 
 All these distinctions are without a difference ; aiid 
 men and women miserably fail in thus trying to befool 
 themselves into making certain phases of gambling 
 respectable while holding other phases of it, equally 
 honest and fair, as illegal and disreputable. On a par 
 with the rest are the English ethics which makes it 
 right to swindle your taflor, but very wrong not to 
 pay a gambling debt. Debts of honor, these last are 
 called. 
 
 Of course there are always a thousand excuses ready 
 for whatever folly or iniquity society chooses to indulge 
 in. Gambling in stocks encourages mining ; gambling 
 at the races promotes horse-breeding; gambling in 
 churches helps to buy an organ or pay a debt. But 
 have we no excuses for our honest banking games ? 
 Listen to Lecky, the foremost of English moralists: 
 "Even the gambling table fosters among its more 
 skillful votaries a kind of moral nerve, a capacity for 
 bearing losses with calmness, and controlling the force 
 of desires, which is scarcely exhibited in equal perfec- 
 tion in any other sphere." Likewise the immaculate 
 Boswell, whose name, however, is scarcely worthy of 
 mention in connection with the other: "There is a 
 composure and gravity in draughts which insensibly 
 tranquillizes the mind, and accordingly the Dutch are 
 fond of it, as they are of smoking, of the sedative in- 
 fluence of which, though he himself never smoked, he 
 had a high opinion. Besides, there is in draughts 
 some exercise of the faculties." 
 
 Dishonest gamblers sometimes mark their cards 
 with punctures so minute as to be imperceptible to 
 the ordinary touch, and to detect them themselves 
 they are obliged to apply acid to the fingers to increase 
 
 I : 
 
692 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 their sensitiveness. .^uch disreputable practices 
 should be discountenanced by all good gamblers, the 
 same as putting sand in sugar, discriminating in 
 freights, and salting a mine. 
 
 The evils of stock gambling, ruining thousands upon 
 thousand of families in the city and throughout the 
 land, as compared with those of professional gambling, 
 are infinitely against the former. Nowhere as in this 
 mad desire to be suddenly and immensely rich were 
 the souls of men so staked. It was worse than Me- 
 phistopheles betting with the Lord that the integrity 
 of Faust should fail him, or Satan laying a like wager 
 ■p regard to Job. • 
 
 •-rotwithstanding that mining since the world began 
 luiA boon a hundred times proven the most ruinous of 
 speculations, to this day wherever is a discovery of 
 the precious metals, thither may be seen a rush from 
 every quarter. 
 
 "K man who subjects things to chance rather than 
 to tlio operation of definite and calculable laws, gam- 
 bles," says Bcecher. 
 
 Here in California the advice of Plautus, " Habeas 
 ut nactus : nota mala res optima' st," " keep what 
 you've got ; the evil that we know is best," was sadly 
 out of place. To be "ptuck in stocks," made sweating 
 sore by them, screwed lighter in them than the village 
 villain's feet in that old-time punishing-machine, was 
 at one time common to all. 
 
 In stock speculation there' is wanting that same 
 element of utility which we find lacking in faro and 
 monte, and by which alone society is benefited in the 
 interchange of values among its members. In ordi- 
 nary transactions, he who makes money is not bene- 
 fited as much as he suffers who loses it, and in gambling 
 the difference is largely increased. 
 
 What is it that causes the price of stocks to 
 change? What is it that causes any fluctuations in 
 values when there has been no corresponding develop- 
 ment in the mines or change in the money market? 
 
 nicn 
 
 talJizf 
 
 inqui] 
 
 < »rac]( 
 
 any 
 
 They 
 
 knowi 
 
 to gar 
 
 ing Ii 
 
STOCKS AND OTHER SPECULATION^. 
 
 093 
 
 Opinion ; simply opinion. In all their politics, religion, 
 and social ethics, men are essentially imitative in 
 their beliefs. Now money being as sensitive as any 
 species of morality is very quick to embrace popular 
 belief without stopping to consider whether it be 
 sound or not. Indeed, that it is the popular belief is 
 sufficient ; for this alone will send securities up or 
 pull them down. And the worst feature about all 
 this is that the people do not buy and sell stocks on 
 the intrinsic value of the mine; they care nothing 
 about such value, do not take it into consideration 
 scarcely, but gamble to-day on what will be the price 
 of shares to-morrow. 
 
 The rise and fall in stocks may sometimes indicate 
 the demand and supply, which again are governed by 
 the disposition of men to purchase more than nitrinsic 
 value or change of condition justify. If nuiiiy per- 
 sons at tlie same time seek to buy large quantities of 
 a stock it is sure to advance; if tliey all at one time 
 wisli to soil it is sure to go down. And yet the mine 
 may bo twice as valuable when it depreciates as when 
 it appreciates. 
 
 Hard times, commercial collapses, monetary crises 
 are oftener the result of apprehension tlian of a real 
 cause. When every one says times are good and 
 acts accordingly, investing, improving, circulating liis 
 nioni!}', that alone will make business nnd prosperity. 
 But as a rule it is safe to say of stock-boards, build- 
 ings, and the mass of wealtli heaped up by bonanza 
 men and stock-i(/bbers, that tliev all are but tlie crvs- 
 tallizatioji« of crime. To tlieir dearest friends who 
 inquired of them as to their fortune, they were false 
 oracles, ready to sacrifice heaven, if tliey ever had 
 any chance there, in order to fill tlieir pockets. 
 They would cheat, mother, brother, and I have even 
 known of a man giving his wife money witli wliich 
 to gamble in stocks, simply for the pleasure of beat- 
 ing her out of it. Meanwhile, into all sorts of 
 
 
 I': 
 
 m 
 
 
 % 
 
 ;i 
 
694 
 
 CrAMBLTNG. 
 
 extravagance their victims plunged," as if their money 
 was immortal. 
 
 In the early days of California gambling was but 
 a more direct expression of the spirit of speedy accu- 
 mulation manifest in common and in so-called legiti- 
 mate speculation. Mining, merchandising, real estate 
 operations in those days of uncertainty were all species 
 of gambling. The coming hither in the first instance 
 was but a staking of time, energy, and health against 
 the hidden treasures of the Sierra. 
 
 The origin of this vice must be sought in the un- 
 sounded depths of turbid human nature ; its practice 
 dates back to the remotest past. Thousands of 
 years before the coming of Europeans to these shores 
 gaming was the chief delight of the inhabitants. 
 The gentle savage would stake on some aboriginal 
 game of chance or skill his shell-money, his peltries, 
 his hunting and household implements, his wives, 
 with an outward indifference as to the results that 
 in 1849 would have made him the envy of the 
 subtlest and skilfullest faro dealer of the day. Losing 
 all else he would throw himself, his liberty into the 
 pot, and losing this he would march off, the naked 
 slave of the winner, with a stoicism most pleasing to 
 behold. The European with all his superior mechan- 
 ism of mind, his culture and philosophy, has never l)een 
 able to outdo the childlike and passionate wild man 
 in those qualities of skill and self-command essential 
 to success in this fascinating calling. 
 
 From what Horace tells us it appears that the 
 vice was not prohibited by the Romans on account of 
 its demoralizing tendency, but because it diverted the 
 youths from manly sports and made them effeminate. 
 And so in later times, and among other peoples, it 
 was not so much the rioting and drunkenness and 
 murders it led to, as the blow it aimed at the moral 
 ideal of the nation, that made it offensive. In early 
 times the ethical ideal was patriotism ; and as gaming 
 
LEGAL AND ILLEGAL GAMBLING. 
 
 ees 
 
 interfered with military art it was put down. In 
 California the central idea embodying the right in 
 social ethics is what comes under the name of legiti- 
 mate money-making. Here the great good is not 
 patriotism, art, or literature, but the accumulation of 
 wealth ; not, however, by such processes as shall in- 
 jure or make your neighbor poorer, but by originating, 
 creating, or producing, making additions to the gen- 
 eral fund, but which you may hold as your own. 
 Here, gambling interfered with that labor which was 
 to eviscerate the Sierra drainage, and develop the 
 resources of the lowlands, as in Rome it interfered 
 with the making of good soldiers; and so, later, Cali- 
 fornia passed laws that drove it under cover, but its 
 spirit still stalks abroad, and enters into almost every 
 avocation. One sees it in the speculations of labor- 
 ing men, in the ventures of merchants outside of 
 their regular business, in the gift enterprise shops, in 
 the church-fair raffle and grab-bag. As I have be- 
 fore stated, buying shares in the stock market in the 
 hope of a rise not based on development is as pure 
 gambling as putting money on a monte card, and 
 its evil effects are seen by the hundreds of working 
 men practically ruined thereby. Of the two evils, 
 the open and public gaming-table and stock-gambling, 
 I hold the latter to be more deleterious to society, for 
 it is but the old wicked principle galvanized, and 
 made respectable by law. A lottery, legalized by the 
 legislature for the benefit of the Mercantile library of 
 San Francisco, caused for a short time an almost 
 entire suspension of business for a hundred miles 
 around 
 
 During the pastoral days of California, men were 
 free, and might gamble if they chose. It came 
 rather hard on them, therefore, when the straight- 
 laced Yankee alcalde of Monterey placed a veto on 
 the pastime. Says the reverend jurist on the subject, 
 writing the 18th of October, 1846: " I issued, a few 
 days since, an ordinance against gambling — a vice 
 
 t" 
 
 ■i 
 
 I 
 
GAMBLING. 
 
 which shows itself here more on the sabbath than any 
 other day of the week. The effect of it has been to 
 drive the gamblers from the town into the bushes. I 
 have been informed this evening, that in a ravine, at 
 a short distance, some thirty individuals have been 
 engaged through the day in this desperate play. 
 They selected a spot deeply embowered in shade, and 
 escaped the eye of my constables." 
 
 On the 12th of May following, the order was thus 
 enforced : "A nest of gamblers arrived in town yes- 
 terday, and last evening opened a monte game at the 
 hotel honored with the name of the Astor House. I 
 took a file of soldiers, and under cover of night 
 reached the hotel unsuspected, where I stationed 
 them at the two doors which afforded the only 
 egress from the building. In a moment I was on 
 the stairs which led to the a[)artment where the 
 oamesters were conjxrcijated. I heard a whistle and 
 then footsteps flying into every part of the edifice. 
 On entering the great chamber, not a being was visi- 
 ble save one Sonoranian reclininor a<jainst a lar<je ta- 
 ble, and composedly smoking his cigarito. I passed 
 the compliments of the evening with him, and de- 
 sired the honor of an introduction to his companions. 
 At the moment a feigned snore broke on my ear from 
 a bed in the corner of the apartment — * Ha 1 Dutrc, 
 is that you ? Come, tumble up, and aid me in stir- 
 ring out the rest.' He pointed under the bed, where 
 I discovered, just within the drop of the vallance a 
 nmltitude of feet and leos radiatiuij as from a connnon 
 center. 'Hallo there, friends — turn out," and out 
 came some half-dozen or more, covered with dust and 
 feathers, and odorous as the nameless furniture left 
 behind. Their plight and discovery threw them into 
 a laugh at each other. FroiU this apartment, accom- 
 panied by my secretary, I proceeded to others, where 
 I found the slopers stowed away in every imaginable 
 position — some in the beds, some under them, several 
 in closets, two in a hogshead, and one up a chimney. 
 
MONTEREY AND SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 697 
 
 Mr R. from Missouri — known here under the sou- 
 briquet of the 'prairie-wolf — I found between two 
 bedticks, with his coat and boots on, and half smoth- 
 ered with the feathers. He was the ringleader, and 
 raises a nionte table wherevei he goes as regularly as 
 a whale comes to the surface to blow. All shouted 
 as he tumbled out from his ticks. Among the rest I 
 found the alcalde of San Francisco, a gentleman of 
 education and refinement, who never plays himself, 
 but who, on this occasion, had come to witness the 
 excitement. I gathered them all, some fifty in num- 
 ber, into the large saloon, and told them the only 
 speech I had to make was in the shape of a fine of 
 /wenty dollars each. The more astute began to 
 demur on the plea of not guilty, as no cards and no 
 money had been discovered; and as for tlie beds, a 
 man had as good a right to sleep under one as in it. 
 I told them that it was a matter of taste, misfortune 
 often made strange bedfellows, and the only way to 
 get out of the scrape was to pay up. Dr S. was the 
 first to plank down. 'Come, my good fellows,' said 
 the doctor, 'pay up, and no grumbling, tliis money 
 goes to build a schoolhouse, where I hope our chil- 
 dren will be taught better principles than they gather 
 from the example of their fathers.' The 'prairie-wolf,' 
 planked down next, and in ten minutes the whole 
 Chillanos, Sonoranians, Orogonians, Californians, 
 Englices, Americanos, delivered in their fines. These, 
 with the hundred dollar fine of the keeper of the 
 hotel, filled quite a bag. With this I bade them 
 goodnight, and took my departure." 
 
 The town council of San Francisco, on the 11th day 
 of January, 1848, passed stringent resolutions against 
 gambling which had then been on the increase for 
 four years past. So startling were the proportions 
 it had assumed, and so enraptured were the people 
 by the fascinating vice that it seriously interfered 
 with business; but a great reform was considered out 
 of place in a small town, and therefore at the next 
 
 
 
t>U8 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 meeting of the council the law was repealed, Icavintr 
 everythhig lovely in this respect for the great Inferno 
 now so near at hand. 
 
 Some were of the opinion that gambling should not 
 be interfered with by law any more than interest on 
 money or the sale of intoxicating liquors. To extin- 
 guish this vice, said they, was impossible ; the passion 
 appears to be deep-seated in man's nature, alike in 
 high and low, civilized and savage. The principle is 
 one with that of speculation, and tinges even commer- 
 cial ventures. As is often claimed for religion, there 
 never has been known a nation without its gambling 
 games of some sort. So, continued these reasonera, 
 it is better to license the vice, give the state the rev- 
 enue, and not make it a crime, than to drive it into 
 dark comers and guarded club-rooms, for it is not that 
 which is done in public that does the most harm. 
 Men will not voluntarily exhibit their worst side to 
 the world. He who ruins himself and family at the 
 gaming-table does it generally in private. Then, too, 
 the opportunities for practising the arts and devices 
 of the trade are much greater than at a table in a 
 public room, surrounded by scores of eyes as keen and 
 as watchful as those of the dealer. 
 
 Gambling in San Francisco was tolerated for the 
 revenue that was derived from it, long after public 
 opinion was against it. 
 
 In due time the saloons, those impious, blazing land- 
 marks, had to give way before a revised public sen- 
 timent. The old El Dorado, corner of Dupont and 
 Washington streets, was one of the last to succumb. 
 In full blast from 1850 till 1856, there were nightly 
 collected the largest crowds of the worst of all classes, 
 all who had a few dollars to gamble — that is, until 
 public gaming was prohibited — or an hour's time to 
 while away, gazing at the people coming and going, at 
 the nude pictures on the walls, and the movements of 
 the barkeepers, and listening to the chink of coin, and 
 the really fine music of the band. About the time 
 
SOME NOTABLE SHOPS. 
 
 699 
 
 this, one of the last relics of gambling saloons, fell 
 forever out of sight, a new iron fence enclosed the 
 plaza, fresh grass covered its hitherto unsightly face, 
 and the citizens of San Francisco looked hopefully 
 forward to the good time which had been so long in 
 coming. 
 
 The gambler is almost always well dressed. No 
 class in California are so scrupulously neat in all their 
 belongings. Nor is he always an idler, knave, or 
 fool. He knows that his profession is not ranked 
 among the most honorable, but he does not intend 
 always to follow it. He would make a fortune and 
 then retire. He is not without generous impulses, 
 but they spring, like the sympathy of a spoiled child 
 or the passion of a femme perdu, from apparently 
 trifling causes rather than from principle. 
 
 The Alta of the 27th of May, 1850, announces the 
 completion of the Empire gambling saloon and the 
 main floor of the Parlcer House as one would speak 
 of the opening of the Suez canal or the bridging of 
 Niagara. "The room is about 140 feet in length," 
 says the editor, "by 50 in width, with a lofty ceiling, 
 and is decorated in the most magnificent manner. It 
 is painted in fresco by Messrs Fairchild and Duchean, 
 and is certainly a most creditable evidence of their 
 artistic skill and taste. We do not know of any pub- 
 lic room in any portion of the United States of so 
 great an extent, or possessing such elegant decorations 
 and embellishments. Our New Orleans and New 
 York friends would scarcely believe that they could 
 be so far excelled in California. The Parker House, 
 the lower floor, was also opened. The room is of 
 about the same size, and hanrlsomely fitted up, al- 
 though not with quite so mucij * legance as the Em- 
 pire. As yet but one story is completed, but it is con- 
 templated to carry out the entire building on the same 
 extensive and elegant plan. The rapidity with which 
 these places of public resort have been completed 
 speaks much for the enterprise of the proprietors." 
 
 i'.'i 
 
 
 nil 
 
700 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 A writer in the Marysville Herald iaL*s discourses 
 on banking games. "A banking game," he says, "is 
 any kind of game played with cards, dice, or other 
 device, in which one or more persons risk their money 
 in opposition to the nmltitude. The banker may be 
 denominated, in the parlance of the day, the inside 
 bettor, and the populace the outside bettors. A man, 
 for instance, who deals monte, places before him on 
 the table a thousand dollars, more or less, in money. 
 He shuffles and deals the fcards, lays two of them out 
 before the multitude, and asks them to stake their 
 money on a guess of which card will win. In this 
 case the dealer of the cards would be the banker, or 
 the inside bettor, whilst those who wagered their 
 money on a guess would be the outside bettors. So 
 in any other game of chance, where there is an inside 
 bettor and an outside bettor, tlie inside bettor is al- 
 ways looked upon as the banker. He pays out to all 
 who win from him, and takes in all that the outsiders 
 lose. The games that coir immediately under the 
 head of banking games, ai which there is no dis- 
 
 pute, are faro, Mexican raoute, French monte, rouge 
 et noir, twenty-one, and most other games played 
 with cards ; also roulette, the tiger, elephant, and 
 other wheel games of similar character, sweat cloths, 
 and all other games played with dice, and many other 
 kinds of games not necessary to enumerate. 
 
 " Lansquenet and rondo differ from other bankin;j; 
 games in this particular: The banker in the games <>f 
 monte or faro deals himself, and permits all wiio wish 
 it to bet against him; whilst in lansquenet and rondo 
 the bank is generally made by an outsider, and con- 
 sists of a certain specified sum, which may be tapped 
 by one or more persons, as circumstances will atlniit 
 of. It is not necessary that the banker in lansquenet 
 or rondo should deal himself; any person may do it 
 for him, but the man who throws up his dollar to 1)0 
 tapped is as much a banker as he would be if sitting 
 behind a table with a bank of a thousand dollars deal- 
 
BANKINd (;AMES. 
 
 701 
 
 ing montc. Lansquenet is dealt with cards, generally 
 out of a faro box, or sardine box, as it is called. 
 Rondo is played upon a billiard table with eight small 
 balls, each ball about the size of a quail's egg, or 
 somewhat larger, and depends upon the skill of the 
 l»anker, or his substitute, in rolling an even imniber 
 of balls into a pocket. If an odd number enters the 
 pocket, it is called culo, and the banker loses; if an 
 even number of balls be pocketed, it is called rondo, 
 and the banker wins. On each winning the stake is 
 doubled. As, for instance, if the banker connuences 
 with a half dollar and makes a rondo, he has a dollar 
 in bank; on a second winning he would have two dol- 
 lars in bank, and so on, doubling the stake at each 
 winning, unless he sees proper to draw out a portion 
 of his capital, which he can do whenever he i)leas('S. 
 After each second wiiming the table or gamekee[>er 
 draws out one hnlf of the original amount invested, 
 as a percentage. This is the game of rondo. 
 
 "tfustice Jenks of Sacramento, in an elaborate 
 opinion, defines a bankuig game as signifying one in 
 which the manager ()r conductor not only receives tlie 
 stakes, but also on his own part makes a bank against 
 them ; that is, when the conductor stakes his own 
 funds against the stakes of all others who participate 
 in the game. 
 
 " Webster defines a bank to be a collection or stock 
 of money deposited by a number of persons for a par- 
 ticular use, that is, an aggregate of particulars, or a 
 fund that is a joint fund; the place where a collection 
 of money is deposited, etc. Justice Jenks, in com- 
 menting upon this definition of a bank, says : ' It is 
 not necessary that the conductor or manager of the 
 game should own part of the money. It is sufficient 
 that a fund is raised, and by any device whatever, 
 that fund, or any part of it, changes hands by chance 
 or by skill in playing. The learned justice further 
 remarks, that in playing rondo two funds are raised, 
 one against the other, and these funds are as much 
 
 
 
 p. 
 
 ri 
 
 ■'i!l! 
 
 ' . 
 
702 
 
 GAMBLING 
 
 banks as though OM^ned by the person who keeps the 
 tabic' The justice, in concluding his opinion, says, 
 'the coincidence existing between the game of lansque- 
 net, expressly classed by the statute in the list of 
 banking games, and the game in question, rondo, 
 compels me to decide by the rule of construction 
 wliich the statute gives — rondo is a banking game.' 
 " Now we agree perfectly with Justice Jenks. If 
 lansquenet is a banking game, so is rondo. They are 
 precisely similar, although one is played with cards 
 and the other with balls. The banks in both are 
 made by outsiders. Tlie table-keepers in both games 
 have no interest except in the percentage, and in 
 playing either game, it is not necessary that the per- 
 son who makes the banks should participate in either 
 drawing the cards from the box or rolling the balls 
 into a pocket. It was clearly the manifest intention 
 of our lawmakers to put an end to all kinds of gam- 
 bling in our state ; and although the word rondo does 
 not appear among the proscribed games in the law of 
 last winter, we are clearly of the opinion that it is 
 proscribed by that law." 
 
 From the time of the gold discovery, which made 
 all around of the roseate hue, there was an openness 
 in all kinds of wickedness, a dash and abandon quite 
 refreshing. Perhaps they play as heavily at the 
 London gaming houses, and at the German springs, 
 but the charm and freshness of unhackneyed nature 
 is not there. In London, or even at the German 
 springs, one would not often see a Sydney convict, a 
 i'lergyman not three months from his preaching, a 
 Harvard graduate, a Pennsylvania farmer, and a New 
 York newsboy all betting at the same table at the 
 same time. 
 
 In California gambling there is little attempt at 
 that quasi-respectability, or, more plainly speaking, 
 humbug, with which the lovers of a money hazard 
 would fain gloss over their whist, chess, or horse- 
 
PERSONNEL OF THE PliOFESSION. 
 
 708 
 
 racing. It is the money men gamble for here, and 
 they have no hesitation in saying so; hence, in a 
 promiscuous assembly, each is attracted to such game 
 as he fancies himself an adept in. The billiard-player 
 gambles at pool, the card-sharper at poker, euchre, or 
 old sledge, the lover of horses at racing, while the 
 unskilled or indifferent lay down their gold at roulette, 
 faro, or monte, notwithstanding in banking games the 
 table has twenty or thirty per cent the advantage. 
 The open-handed well-to-do Californian who flings 
 his dollars around for the mere pleasure of seeing 
 others scramble for them would call staking a few 
 hundreds fun rather than gambling ; but the individ- 
 ual earnest and constant at the tables, whatever the 
 game or the amount staked, you may be sure is after 
 * blood,' as he hiinself would tell you. 
 
 There is the legitimate gambler, one who keeps a 
 table and pays his dues to society in shape of license, 
 rent, and bar bills, like an honest citizen. Then there 
 is the professional gambler, who, like the itinerant 
 preacher, may have an occupation without fixed abode. 
 He may deal, or *cap,' or bet on the outside; he may 
 grace this or that house or town as circumstances 
 offer. He is not the legitimate, legalized, solid man 
 of the fraternity, but he is none the less a professional 
 gambler. Next comes the gentleman gambler, who 
 cultivates the hazard of dice or cards as a recreation, 
 openly and unblushingly. He may deal occasionally 
 as an amateur, not as a legitimate or professional ; but 
 usually he exhausts the time in midnight poker or 
 faro. Tinctured with politics, and ho is welcomed at 
 political clubs ; if pleasing in manner and free with his 
 money, women of a certain quality cultivate him. If 
 a business man, it is necessary for him to be guarded 
 and sly in his gambling operations ; and if a church- 
 goer or salaried clerk, the vice proclaimed is absolute 
 ruin. 
 
 In the professional gambler there is or should be 
 much that is repugnant to the right-minded and hon- 
 
704 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 est workingman. Although the latter, in every blow 
 he strikes, nut knowing the outcome of it whether it 
 shall prosper or not, makes a direct appeal to the god- 
 dess Fortune ; but having honestly struck the blow, 
 lie feels he has a right in thus making the appeal. 
 But the shaved and whitc-shh'ted faro-dealer is not 
 Fortuna, but rather a monev-demon, a soul-subdui r. 
 an emissary of Satan, a C(muncrcial traveller in the 
 interests of hell. May he then be honest ? Why yes, 
 if he does not cheat. Is not Satan honest ? And are 
 not his agents to be trusted as fully as those of his 
 enemies, nine-tenths of whom, by their own showing, 
 each measuring another, are not what they seem. 
 
 There is no excuse for crime or wron<»; doinij: but I 
 have yet to find the man, or class of men or woukii 
 without nmcli that is y;ood as well as nmch that is 
 evil in them. The nmrderer and the harlot did nut 
 become such because they were utterly depraved, but 
 because they were overtaken by some evil more tlu 
 fault of their enviromnent than of their original natuiv. 
 The honest and the chaste may tliank for their uii- 
 tempted virtue conditions void of the allurement- 
 which otljerwise might have made them the thni^ 
 they so contemptuously scorn. Tiiousands who walk 
 the street with head erect, honored and respected, 
 would long since have met the felon's fate, had their 
 courage been equal to their desires. 
 
 During the flush times games were employed to 
 suit all tastes. There were the purely games of 
 chance, as faro, nionte, dice ; games partly of chance 
 and partly of skill, as whist, euchre, poker, backgam- 
 mon; games of skill, as chess, checkers, billiards, 
 (lames which require much thought or skill are never 
 resorted to for ]»oj)ular heavy gambling. They are t(»o 
 slow and there is too nmch labor connected with tiieni. 
 Something more quick and soul-stirring is what is 
 wanted. Next to the pleasure of winning is tlir 
 [deasure of losing : stagnation is unendurable. 
 
 The term gambler, in California, refers only to the 
 
 prof( 
 one ^ 
 tlie ^ 
 does 
 bets 1 
 that i 
 ever J 
 alway 
 dresse 
 turbal 
 air, a I 
 slowly 
 inclitfei 
 Servant 
 sockets 
 people 
 contrac 
 , The « 
 times if 
 nature, 
 tilized ; 
 is crysti 
 pom man 
 innnerse 
 apl)ear i 
 ^>n thee 
 f>utchery 
 f^ion. H 
 own. C 
 iii(>n. p 
 attack a ( 
 t^^'f-ept a 
 figlits or 
 stakes to 
 K;»od-]iuin 
 United wi 
 ago. He 
 Pi'k, but 1 
 ^viJl kill a 
 
 Cal. 
 
TYPICAL FLUSH-TIMES CxAMBLER. 
 
 708 
 
 professional, not being used in the abstract sense of 
 one who gambles. The grocer deals out sugar and 
 the gambler cards; he who buys a pound of sugar 
 does not thereby become a grocer ; neither is he who 
 bets upon the cards, in California, called a gambler, 
 that term being applied to a class sui generis. Where- 
 ever found, in the city or in the mines, one can almost 
 always pick them out in a crowd. They are the best 
 dressed men one meets ; their pale, careworn, imper- 
 turbal)le faces wear an absent but by no means greedy 
 air, and as they stand listlessly on the corner, cr 
 slowly and carelessly walk the street, by no mtans 
 iiiditferent to a pretty female ankle, their calmly ob- 
 servant eyes, which are somewhat sunken in their 
 sockets, seem to possess the faculty of looking through 
 })eople while not looking at them, which habit was 
 contracted at the gamiiiij table. 
 
 The character of the typical gambler of the flusli 
 times is one of the queerest mixtures in hunuiu 
 nature. His temperament is mercurial })ut non-vola- 
 tilized; like quicksilver in cinnabar, its subtle vivacity 
 is crystalized or massed in suli)hur. Supreme self- 
 command is his cardinal quality; yet, except when 
 immersed in the intricacies of a game, his actions 
 appear to be governed only l)y impulse and faney, 
 ()n the other hand his swiftest vengeance and cruellest 
 butchery seem rather the nsult of policy than pas- 
 sion. His crimes are his profession's rather than liis 
 own. Confident with women, he is audacious with 
 iiu^n. Prompt in action, expert, he is as ready to 
 attack a dozen as one. He is never known t< > steal 
 except at cards; and if caught cheating hv. either 
 fiijjhts or blandly smiles his sui away, suffers the 
 stakes to be raked down without a nmnnur, treats 
 good-humoredly, and resumes the game unruffled. 
 United with the coolest cunninij is the coolest cour- 
 ao;c. He is as ready with his pistol as with his tooth- 
 l>i<k, but ho never uses it unless he is right; then, he 
 Will kill a man as mercilessly as he would brush a fly 
 
 Cal. Int. Voc. 45 
 
706 
 
 GAMBUNG 
 
 from his immaculate linen. Yet in his lonely dispo- 
 sition he is not quarrelsome, and never murders ex- 
 cept professionally. He is a man to be feared, and 
 in early times he was highly respected. He is all 
 nerve, electrical in his organization, and depends 
 wholly upon his own resources for justice and protec- 
 tion. He knows not fear; life to him is but a shuffle 
 and a deal, in which the chances have already been 
 calculated, and death at most is but the losing of the 
 game — all matters of indifferent moment. In his 
 disposition he is magnanimous; in his bearing noble; 
 in his actions chivalrous. He will not do a mean 
 thing; he discharges his pecuniary obligations with 
 scrupulous exactitude, thus putting to shame the so- 
 called English gentleman, and never disputes a bill. 
 Desperate in an emergency, he is the foremost to 
 bravo peril; the most unselfish in suffering, and en- 
 dures misfortune with heroic fortitude. He will fight 
 for a friend as quickly as for himself, and share his 
 last ounce with an unfortunate comrade. He will 
 take every dollar from his victim should chance so 
 order it, but he will as often give him back a portion 
 should he stand in need of it. He has even been 
 known to hand back money won from a simple-mind id 
 youth, with the advice not to indulge in play until lie 
 understands it better. Should a secret connnittee of 
 some mining camp, seized with a spasm of moral re- 
 form, order him to leave the town, he receives the 
 sentence with calm equinimity; siiould death be his 
 portion he meets it with barbaric stoicism. 
 
 His pockets are alwa^-s open, but his philanthropy 
 knows no formula; he will contribute to estiiblisli a 
 church or a brothel, to support a Sunday-school or a 
 swindle. He has his code of honor; but such thiii*j;s 
 as orthodox conscience or conventional morality- he 
 knows not and cares not what they are. In niatt( rs 
 of justice he will act the unpopular part of advocate 
 for a penniless horse thief, or falsely swear an alibi to 
 save a friend. Over and over are told of them tales 
 
 oft! 
 
 by s 
 
 panic 
 
 penal 
 
 of w] 
 
 rchgii 
 
 Tiiere 
 
 tJiat ii 
 
 tliis p 
 
 In tlic 
 
 holdtj < 
 
 accust( 
 sary c£ 
 He is I 
 numb 
 
 Ivcencst 
 tloalino- 
 
 patron's, 
 I»uts on 
 cut. }r 
 f'' >id, an 
 is no tre 
 tlie coIo] 
 pression 
 i'ldifferei 
 l>ankrupt 
 once befi 
 ^'vo feati 
 ••Z" life ar 
 t'vo, and 
 profession 
 fonsequer 
 
 foinpJacei 
 ti"Ms of 1 
 file mere. 
 
 i'xlifferenc 
 fathers, is 
 '"'ss, but 
 tiiose wh 
 
THE TYPICAL FORTYNmEE, 
 
 707 
 
 of the highest heroism ; how one and another stood 
 by some contemptible, ill-deserving, chance com- 
 panion, knowing all the time that death was the 
 penalty of chivalric devotion. Chance is his god, 
 of whom he is a most faithful minister. Luck is his 
 religion, and in it he is a firm believer and devotee. 
 There is but one thing certain about it however, and 
 that is, sooneror later it will change. To know when 
 tliis point is reached is the sum of all knowledge. 
 In the practise of his profession, so long as his luck 
 lioldb out good he never tires, and takes no rest. He 
 accustoms himself to do without sleep, and if neces- 
 sary can go for several days and nights without rest. 
 He is a temperate man, being far too shrewd to be- 
 numb his faculties when he requires (jf them the 
 keenest perception. Every now and then, while 
 dealing his game, he orders drinks and cigars for his 
 patrons, but sips sparingly from his own glass, as one 
 puts on coal merely to prevent the fire from going 
 out. He deals his game with the most perfect sang 
 fr )id, and when undergoing the heaviest losses there 
 is no trembling of fingers or change of expression in 
 the colorless face, no twitching of nmscles nor com- 
 pression of lips; eye and manner maintain their cold 
 indifference, and if compelled at last to announce his 
 bankruptcy he does it with a smile such as never 
 once before throughout the game lighted his impas- 
 sive features. His views as to the common conduct 
 of life are philosophic ; in manner he is undemonstra- 
 tive, and in speech reticent. In the practise of his 
 profession he is bold in his operations, and fearless of 
 consequences. His listless lounging and grave self- 
 complacency contrast strongly with the fier}' ebulli- 
 tions of his surroundinsrs. The restless emotion <jf 
 the merchant and miner he regards with tranquu 
 indifference. He interferes little in the affairs of 
 others, is not specially skilled in matters of busi- 
 ness, but he weighs and measures the character of 
 those who play with him with the utmost nicety. 
 
708 
 
 GAMBLINO. 
 
 He knows perfectly well whether one who draws a 
 pistol or a knife means to use it ; and on the instant 
 takes measures acccordingly. His brightly polished 
 weapons are always at his elbow ready for inmiediate 
 use, but he never touches them unless he deems it 
 neccssar}^ and then only to use them. He is studi- 
 ously neat in his habits, and tends to foppishness in 
 his costume. In the city his coat is of the latest 
 cut, diamonds adorn his shirt, his high silk hat is 
 black and glossy, and with a fancy-headed cane in a 
 gloved hand he taps his closely-fitting well-polislud 
 boots. In the mines he sometimes atftcts the miner's 
 dress, but his woollen shirt is gaily embroidered, and 
 his slouched hat clean and graceful. A chain i.f 
 gold specimens linked together is attached to a mas- 
 sive hunting watch, and massive rings of virgin gold 
 and quartz encircle his soft white fingers. His sleek 
 and well oiled hair is neatly brushed, his face clostly 
 shaven, leaving perhaps a mustache, but never 
 whiskers long enough for exasperated losers to seize 
 hold of A fine cloth cloak is sometimes thrown 
 loosely over the shoulder, and round the waist a brig] it 
 scarlet silk sash supports his murderous weapons. 
 When in funds he travels on a fat, sleek mule, wirli 
 yellow buckskin guantlets, broad-brimmed hat, and 
 large silver spurs; if overtaken by adversity lie 
 walks. 
 
 The professional gambler seeks the best mines and 
 the largest crowds. When gold begins to fail he mi- 
 grates with the miners, following the diggers as the 
 sea gull follows the pelican. Should the occupants of 
 one camp become impecunious or disgusted and de- 
 cline further play, he quietly packs up his tools, 
 mounts his mule, and is off for another. Thus he 
 may have to go for mam days before he gets a game. 
 In mountain towns his quarters may be a log cabin, 
 with open broad fireplace, larger than the other 
 cabins, but always occupying a central position. In 
 tenting times his encampment was conspicuous for its 
 
 ample 
 juid iti 
 
 ItM 
 
 I'ranci 
 
 •sion wi 
 
 III 185 
 
 i'lgs de 
 
 ^^'ore tl 
 
 ^ ous, tl 
 
 d;th. J 
 
 '•y coil 
 
 «l>lendoi 
 
 \vas sup 
 
 ^\( re gre 
 
 fine Iarg( 
 
 • xtendin, 
 
 from the 
 
 tlie mino 
 "f coin a 
 "■<'>N like I 
 ^>i'i,i,^htnes 
 Til ore 1 
 tables on 
 .u'lttorino- 
 and bag's 
 "'iglit clio 
 gaiiibling 
 Withdi 
 pi'oniiscuoi 
 1 ill 're wer 
 ••^'id sliinin; 
 *'"s; miner 
 • 's CJiilian 
 a'l'i China] 
 tontly watc 
 smoking, c 
 aiul then dr- 
 
IN THE CITY. 
 
 709 
 
 ample accommodations, the whiteness of its canvas, 
 unci its gay trimmings. 
 
 It was in the larger cities, however, such as San 
 Francisco, Sacramento, and Marysville, that this pas- 
 sion with the most unbriddled license was displayed. 
 Ill 1850 on two sides of the plaza were brick build- 
 ings devoted almost exclusively to gambling. There 
 wore the El Dorado, the Bella Union, the Rendez- 
 vous, the Empire, the Parker House, and the Veran- 
 dah. Here large halls were fitted up, some of them 
 Ity companies formed in France, with oriental 
 splendor. In one the ceiling, rich in fresco and gilt, 
 was supported by glass pillars, pendant from which 
 were great y;lass cha:ideliers. Around the walls were 
 fine large paintings of nude female figures, and mirrors 
 extending from floor to ceiling. Entering at night 
 from the unlighted dismal street into an immense 
 iDom lii^hted with dazzling brilliance, and loud with 
 the minified sound of nmsical instruments, the clink 
 of coin and glasses, and the hum of human voices, 
 was like passing from the dark deptlis to celestial 
 brightness. 
 
 There were long rows of leather-covered mahogany 
 tables on which were temptingly spread out heaps of 
 glittering gold and silver coin, nuggets, slugs, bars, 
 aiul bags of dust, and whore tlie votaries of chance 
 might choose from every game known to the civilized 
 gambling world. 
 
 With difficulty one elbowed one's way through the 
 promiscuous crowd that here nightly congregated. 
 There were men in black clothes, immaculate linen, 
 and shining silk hats, merchants, lawyers, and doc- 
 tors; miners in woollen shirts, greasy Sandwich Island- 
 ers, Chilians, and Mexicans; Irish laborers, Negroes, 
 and Chinamen, some crowded round the tables in- 
 tently watching the games, others lounging about, 
 smoking, chewing, spitthig, drinking, swearing, now 
 and then dropping a dollar, or a five, or ten, or twenty. 
 
 ^.r,M 
 
710 
 
 GAMBLING, 
 
 or fifty-dollar piece, with real or well-feigned indiffer- 
 ence as to the result. Now and then the games were 
 momentarily interrupted by the crack of a pistol, and 
 the loungers became a little deuKiralized as the ball 
 whistled past their ears and lodged in the wall. If a 
 man was killed or wounded he was taken out, but the 
 nature of the affray was left to be learned from tlio 
 morning papers, and in a few moments all was as h.'- 
 fore. Some of the saloons were open day and niglit, 
 and paid enormous rents; six thousand dollars a 
 month was paid for the El Dorado. There were also 
 many private clubs or suits of rooms, where the play- 
 ers were more select and play ran higher. Notliiiig 
 but gold coin was used in these i)laces, and tlie stakes 
 ran into the hundreds and tliousands. A bet of any 
 sum less than five dollars was regarded as contemi>ti- 
 ble. These rooms were often graced or disgraced l)y 
 the presence of beautiful women, and sumptuous sup- 
 pers were served, with the best of wines, all free to 
 the i)atronizing visitors. 
 
 Like those of the pretty-waiter saloons and dance 
 cellars of later times, the band may be an orchestra of 
 regular nmsicians, a company of negro minstrels, a 
 quartette of Mexican guitars, a piano, or if the room 
 and counters be celestial, a Chinese scrape, squeak, 
 and slam-bang. 
 
 Gambling from 1849 to 1852 was followed in Sau 
 Francisco as a regular business, and there was no dis- 
 grace attached U) the profi'ssion. Among tlie dealers 
 of gambling games at that time were some of the 
 most influential and talented citizens. But they were 
 a transient race ; they have gone forever. As a more 
 refined civilization crept in and overwhelmed the low, 
 the loose, and the vicious, gambling sank into disre- 
 pute. Law drove it behind locked doors and into 
 windowless rooms. Then the gay gamblers of the 
 olden time left the profession to a different class, niicl 
 sought out new fields of distinction, perhaps in poli- 
 tics, law, or speculation. 
 
MONTE AND FARO. 
 
 711 
 
 The position of monte-dealer is a most trying one. 
 Surrounded by the clamor of the crowd ; his t'yes, 
 while apparently intent on his cards, closely scru- 
 tinizing the faces and fingers of the Bettors be- 
 fore him; his mind meanwhile occupied by the 
 progress of the game, which involves intricate 
 and continuous calculation ; then, should he wish 
 to indulge in feats of skill or cheating, he must 
 perform them at the peril of his life, under scores of 
 eyes riveted with vigilant scrutiny upon his fingers, 
 and be ready at any moment to resent, if deemed best, 
 with knife or pistol, the merest suspicion of dishonesty, 
 sliould any one of the players imprudently intimate 
 it. Faro was considered the more dignified and re- 
 spectable of all the games, and was played mostly by 
 Englislimen and Americans, while monte was a favorite 
 with the French and Spanish. Besides tliese were 
 roulette, rouge-et-noir, rondo, vingt-un, chuck-a-luck, 
 with dice, and many other games. 
 
 The usual stake was from a dollar to five dollars, 
 though it was not unconnnon in the flush times to see 
 hundreds or even thousands ventured on the turning 
 of a card. A bet of $20,000 was once made at a 
 faro game and won by the customer. The dealer 
 counted out tlie money with as nmch nonchalance as 
 if it liad been twenty dollars he had lost instead of 
 twenty thousand. There is something fascinating in 
 standing by and watching the game, as the painted 
 cards turn up their leering faces and read the [(layers 
 the meloilrame of their folly. It seems like siiorting 
 with destiny, and telling out tV'o tale of life by wor- 
 shipful spots and figures. 
 
 It is a fine thhig to get a peck or a bushel of gold 
 just by betting for it, and tlie tremulous rapture of 
 mingled hope and fear is almost compensatitui enough 
 even if one loses. And after all "bucking" at a faro 
 bank was no more uncertain and nmch less trouble- 
 some than staking time and sinews against the Sierra's 
 secret pockets and auriferous banks. There are men, 
 
 'm 
 
 fi*; 
 
712 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 among whom may be classed Sonorians and Chilians, 
 who mine only that they may gamble, whom neither 
 hunger nor thirst nor any other known incentive could 
 stir up to labor. No matter how purely the game is 
 one of chance, the player arrogates to himself some 
 certain skill. Luck, like the stellar system, has its 
 law which patient study is sure to develop. Then 
 every one has his own individual luck, which like a 
 personal deity, should be conciliated; so tliat, very 
 naturally and very properly, the player, if he won, 
 could thank himself for it, whereas, if he lost, his luck 
 was at fault. 
 
 The gambler, when play grew slack, would stroll 
 away, sometimes leaving his table unguarded in the 
 midst of a heterogeneous crew of cut-throats, tempt- 
 ingly loaded witli the stuff all men covet, apparently 
 regarding it as safe as if locked in the vaults of tlie 
 bank of England. Few possessed the temerity to rob 
 a gambler, and least of all hi a place where sununary 
 justice would be quickly meted out by the bystanders. 
 
 In certain localities, various games were paraded 
 hi the street, or from low shops opening on the side- 
 walk. One would deal three-card monto on the head 
 of a barrel; another would tempt the gaping crowd 
 with thimblerig played with a golden pea upon his 
 leg ; well-dressed young men and boys, as well as vll- 
 lainous-lookhig cut-throats would follow soft-looking 
 strangers about the streets offerin<j to bet $100 or 
 $200 on some trick which offered to the outsider an 
 apparently sure thing. On Long Wharf, whc>re at 
 that time were most of the arrivals and de[)artures to 
 and from San Francisco, this base traffic was plied 
 most persistently. At almost every hour of the day 
 or nioht the cries of the French monte-dealer mijifht 
 lie heard: " The ace of spades 1 the ace I the ace I A 
 hundred dollars to any one who will tell tlie ace of 
 spades ! " But these were the bohemians of the frater- 
 nity, of very different metal from the regular artist, 
 
 Gathered round the table are men of all nations, 
 
 play 
 
 turc! 
 
 lean, 
 
 play( 
 
 eyes, 
 
 and J 
 
 inay 
 
 M( 
 
 consi( 
 
 ties ft 
 
 -^fexic 
 
 til ere 
 
 witli t 
 
 it cam 
 
 feature 
 
 H'ill SI 
 
 niakeri 
 
 Innu 
 the slir 
 told tal 
 
 A y( 
 
 niission 
 Fifteen 
 ^v!len, i 
 liave al] 
 tlie mil 
 
 i>itched 
 
 to his d 
 
 Allot 
 
 lionio. 
 
 I'eiiiaindi 
 
 «it a nion 
 
 ^^'cre ad( 
 
 took the 
 
 tlie reme 
 
 A 1ms 
 
 ^'laku his 
 
 to stay. 
 
SOME EXAMPLES, 
 
 m 
 
 playinpf or watchin;^ with morbid curiosity the ven- 
 tures of others. There you may always find the Mex- 
 ican, the most constant and the most intrepid of 
 players, with his broad sombrero drawn well over his 
 eyes, and in his bright-colored serajie, symbol of pride 
 and ])overty, are placed his well-worn weapons. You 
 may be sure if he is not playing he has no money. 
 
 Monte is the favorite game of the Mexican, as he 
 considers the chances nearer equal and the op[)ortuni- 
 ties for foul play smaller. Between the experienced 
 ^lexican <;ambler and the iimocent, audacious Yankee 
 tliere is a marked contrast. The former gambles 
 with the coolness of a fatalist; what nmstbe, will be, 
 it cannot be changed. The latter, with tongue and 
 feature, displays anger or joy at every venture ; lie 
 will succumb before no destiny ; are not Americana 
 makers of destiny ? 
 
 Innumerable are the stories told of worshippers at 
 the shrine of the fickle goddess, beside the many un- 
 told tales. 
 
 A 3'^oung man from the mines conceived it his 
 mission to break a gambler's bank in Sacramento. 
 Fifteen hundred dollars, his all, were speedily lost, 
 when, turning to the gambler, he exclaimed, "You 
 liave all my money ; give me an ounce to get back to 
 the mines with." Without a word the gambler 
 ])ltched him a doubloon, and the young man returned 
 to his diijjjjin*;. 
 
 Another arrived in town with $19,000, on his way 
 home. Depositing $10,000 with a friend, with tlie 
 rcinalnder he entered a brilliant saloon, seated himself 
 at a monte table, and began betthig Soon the $3,000 
 were added to the bank. The infatuated man tlicn 
 took the remainder of liis money, and notwithstanding 
 the reuKmstrances of his friend, staked and lost it all. 
 
 A husband and father having secured sufficient to 
 iiiakii his family comfortable, determined to go home 
 to stay. The night before he was to have started, 
 
 ^ « 
 
714 
 
 OAMBLINO. 
 
 being overcome of liquor taken amidst numerous fare- 
 wells, he staked and lost all his money at the monte 
 table. Overwhelmed by the thought of what he hail 
 done, In his drunken frenzy ho seized his lost gold and 
 broke away with it, when the dealer drew a pistol 
 and shot him dead. He had written home that he 
 should arrive by the next steamer 1 
 
 A miner entered a Sacramento gambling house with 
 $5,000, and sat down to play. In less than an hour 
 he won .^100,000. Continuing with the determination 
 to break the bank, his winnings were reduced to 
 ,^r)0,000, when thinking bett'jr of the undertaking, he 
 pocketed the njoney and withdrew. 
 
 A graduate of Harvard law school came to Califor- 
 nia in 1850. He was betrothed to a charming girl, 
 whom he hned devotedly, being willing to endure the 
 pangs of separation and tlie hardships of unaccustomed 
 toil to secure enough to support her. He worked 
 fait] 1 full V on Feather river for ten months, durin*i 
 which time he lived temperately, and neither drank 
 n. r gambled to any extent, llaxing secured some 
 $12,000, he concluded to return homo, so packing up 
 his I'rt'ects he went down to the bay, put up at a hotel 
 in San Francisco, and there waited the departure of 
 the steamer. In strolling through the gambling 
 houses of the town, listening to the "Home, Sweet 
 Home," or other nmsic of the bund that stirred his 
 heari and carried him back to other scenes, as every- 
 body did in those days he now and then dropped a 
 coin on the table, more for pastime than any desire of 
 iiain. One nijjlit he allowed himself to be tarried 
 away by the fascinations of the game, until almost 
 before he was aware of what he was about, more than 
 half Ills money was gone. Then in a moment of pas- 
 sion tlie infatuated man took the remainder, and rais- 
 ing his hand and bringing it down upon a card with a 
 heavy blow, cried out, " Home or the mines I " Slowly 
 the dealer drew the cards that told the rash man's 
 destiny, and breathlessly he waited who thus invoked 
 
HOME OR THE MINES. 
 
 716 
 
 his fate. Another instant, liis muscles relaxed, and 
 he sank back hito his seat witli the hoarse whisper, 
 "The mines, by Godl" 
 
 One day a monte-doaltT appeared upon a bar which 
 was yielding good returns and making rich its diggers. 
 It was a virgin field ; no one of ids profession had ever 
 before outspread his encliantmenta in tliat locality. 
 Tlie camp was stagnating for an excitement; its occu- 
 pants were ready to seize u[)on any pretext for relax- 
 ation from Iheir long and profitable labor. They had 
 no more disposition to bet than they had to fight 
 IiidiaMs or hang a horse-thief, l)ut they were eager 
 for any excuse wliich should enable them to rest their 
 limbs, distract their minds, and increase their pota- 
 tions. The "sport" took up his quarters at the best 
 saloon, and drawing forth several bags of lieavy dust, 
 round and fat, and gold doubloons and silver Spanish 
 dollars, temptingly heaped them upon his table. After 
 invithig all hands to drink, he seated himself behind 
 his bank, placed his weapons conveniently, then care- 
 fully unrolling a cliamois-skhi package, he produced 
 several packs of thin tough well-kept monte-cards, 
 which he deposited, not without an eye to effect, be- 
 side the gold. Taking up one pack after another, he 
 carefully examines each, observes closely the backs 
 and edges, counts them over several times to see that 
 none are missing, for if short or over a single card Jiis 
 opponent might claim the whole of any ;3tako whether 
 he won it or not. Selecting a pack which best suits 
 his fancy, he dexterously shutttes them long and thor- 
 oughly, passes them to be cut, then holding them sci- 
 entifically half crushed in his soft white hand, with 
 the faces downward, he draws from underneath tlie 
 bottom two cards, and tlircnvs them face ui)permost 
 on the table, crying, "All ready 1 Comedown; make 
 your game, gentlemen; seven of spades in the door; 
 the game is made ; all down. No morel" Meanwliile 
 tlie miners who had taken their seats at tlie ends ajid 
 opposite sides of the table from the dealer put down 
 
 ' 
 
 r 1' 
 
716 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 their bets, some on one card and some on the otlier. 
 Then tummg up the cards, the dealer begins to draw 
 from the top, and the game goes on. 
 
 At first the gambler lost heavily ; yet quietly, with 
 uninipassioned face he continued, and the miners were 
 elated. The saloon-keeper drove a thriving trade, and 
 all warmed up to the business. Others came, in twos 
 and threes, until not a man was left at the diggings. 
 Work being thus suspended, the camp yielded to the 
 seductive influence of play. At length luck left the 
 miners. The gambler won. Gradually the pile on 
 the table enlarged until after three days of roaring 
 jollification the miners were bankrupt. The gambler 
 and saloon-keeper had all the money. Instead of 
 returning, with their returning senses, to their work, 
 two thirds of the luckless and chagrined individuals 
 left the camp within a week. 
 
 There was a beautiful little French woman who 
 kept a roulette table at the north end of Montgomery 
 street. There were many such in San Francisco. 
 The room was elegantly furnished like a boudoir. 
 The syren sat behind the table, elegantly arrayed in 
 black silk, her face fronting the open door, whirling 
 her wheel most bewitchingly Before her lay a pile 
 of silver dollars and gold ounces. A tall bony New 
 Englander, brought up on mush, catechism, and 
 Poor Richard's almanac, passing by stopped to survey 
 the scene. He caught the infection. Throwing 
 looks of languishing love into her melting eyes, gaz- 
 ing upon her luscious lips and voluptuous form, he 
 entered and seated himself before her. First he lay 
 down gold pieces, then silver, all the time almost in- 
 variably losing. Then he brought out a watch, then 
 another watch, and another. He had had a lucky 
 game of poker the night before which accounted for 
 the watches. The charmer swept them all to her 
 side of the table. Finally he drew a ring from his 
 finger. 
 
 " Combien ?" asked the woman. 
 
GOING A "BUND" AT MONTE. 
 
 717 
 
 "Three ounces," answered the New Englander 
 despairingly. 
 
 "Ohl no, no, no," laughed the garaestress, "une 
 montre, pas plus." 
 
 The ring brought Imck one of the watches, but the 
 next whirl swept them both away and the man retired 
 to meditate and begin the world anew. 
 
 It was a common practise for miners to lay an un- 
 opened bag of dust upon a card, call the amount of 
 his venture, and if he won receive the same from the 
 dealer without opening his bag at all. At Stockton 
 in 1850, a 'sucker,* as one of his nativity was called, 
 entered a gambling saloon and cast his eye over the 
 several monte tables. It was an eye which with its 
 surroundings resembled a dead coal dropped into a 
 can of lard. In long bristles the hair hung from a 
 flat rakish head resting on shoulders fit for a Khodian 
 Colossus, and surmounting a puncheon-shaped body 
 stuck upon keg-like legs. Stepping up to a table 
 which seemed to strike his fancy he leaned over and 
 peered into the face of the dealer. 
 
 "D* ye 'low a man to bet his pile on one kyerd?" 
 he innocently asked. 
 
 "Yes, you may bet your pile," answered the dealer. 
 
 After a long search within the folds of his shirt he 
 drew forth a bag containing his treasures and slapping 
 it onthe 'caballo' exclaimed : " I go two ounces on that 
 hoss." The first time he lost; the next he won. 
 Half an hour of fluctuations saw the lUinoisan loser to 
 about the extent, as the dealer thought, of what the 
 contents of the bag would cover. Hence the game 
 waa arrested and the process of settlement begun, 
 "While the dealer was adjusting the scales, the little 
 thick man stood immovable as ft pillar, a roseate hue 
 meanwhile mounting his flabby face; but when the 
 bag was open and bits of lead instead of gold greeted 
 with dull unwelcome stare the gamblcrs's gaze, tbe 
 tub-like man began to revolve, and gathering mo- 
 mentum as he approached the door, disappeared amidst 
 
lis 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 the uproar of laughter, flying tumolers, and broken 
 curses which followed. 
 
 One night, a Mexican with his face half con- 
 cealed in an old serape, entered the El Dorado, and 
 edging his way through the crowd stepped before a 
 monte table, After following the game for a short 
 time, he drew forth an old linen bag of coin, supposed 
 of course to be silver dollars, and placing it upon a 
 card leaned over the table, and — apparently forsaken 
 by his usual stoicism — watched the dealer's fingers 
 with breathless anxiety. The Mexican won; ^ <e 
 dealer with quiet indifference pulled the bag over to 
 him, untied the string, and emptied out the contents. 
 His face turned white as a sheet, even his customary 
 coolness deserted him; for out of the bag had rolled, 
 not silver dollars as every one supposed, but golden 
 doubloons, more than enough to break the bank. The 
 gambler, however, borrowed sufficient from his neigh- 
 bors and paid the Mexican who withdrew as quietly 
 as he had entered. 
 
 One day a Mexican rode up to a gambling saloon at 
 the Mission Dolores. Dismounting, he tied his horse, 
 entered, and began betting. Soon his money, pistols, 
 and all his belongings were gone. Finally his horse 
 was staked and lost ; but this was more than he could 
 endure, and he detennlned to save it. As he rose 
 from the table he managed to upset it, and while all 
 were engaged in picking up the scattered money, he 
 slipped out, mounted, and galloped away. 
 
 There was in San Francisco, about 1855, a specu- 
 lator whose business consisted in organizing lotteries 
 on a scale hitherto unknown. He went to Europe 
 for the purpose of collecting an interminable assort- 
 ment of objects of all kinds suited to the American 
 taste, and during several months had a great exposi- 
 tion in one of the principal toWns of the Union, used 
 all kinds of wise stratagems to announce it, and ended 
 by realizing a profit of $50,000 or $60,000. The col- 
 lection which he exhibited at San Francisco was a 
 
 gall, 
 
 ateu 
 
 Titii 
 
 Jotte 
 
 was 
 
 W 
 
 erat(j 
 
 offb^ 
 
 recov 
 
 for t 
 
 enoui 
 
 he ge 
 
 at th 
 
 would 
 
 and k 
 
 lose it 
 
 known 
 
 an asy 
 
 The 
 early j 
 what 1 
 introdi 
 less iut 
 and be 
 shroud( 
 is the I 
 receivt( 
 the ear 
 the stii 
 dered, t 
 means 
 into fai 
 has lost 
 tlie mar 
 and exc 
 gay and 
 almost, 
 play wit 
 
THE SCIENCE OF POKER. 
 
 719 
 
 gallery of pictures, which were much admired by am- 
 ateurs. They were miserable copies of Reubens, 
 Titian, etc. , but the lucky ones who drew them in the 
 lottery had perfect faith in their originality, which 
 was guaranteed in the catalogue. 
 
 Wliile threshing near Marysville, a man with invet- 
 erate gambling proclivities had both of his legs torn 
 off by the machine. As soon as he had sufficiently 
 recovered, he started on a tour through the mountains 
 for the purpose of raising by subscription money 
 enough to buy him two cork legs; but no sooner did 
 he get together $100 or so than he gambled it away 
 at the firbt gaming-table he could find. Then he 
 would start out agam, trailing the ground on crutches 
 and log-stumps, begging more money only to bet and 
 lose it again, until his untoward ways became generally 
 known, when he was arrested and incarcerated in 
 an asylum. 
 
 The following tribute to the game of poker was 
 early paid by an able writer. " We do not know in 
 what happy clime the great game of poker was first 
 hitroduced ; the name of the man out of whose fathom- 
 less intellect it soared into the world of created things 
 and began to fascinate the hearts of the people is 
 shrouded in oblivion ; but we do know that California 
 is tlie land where the game has been most favorably 
 received and industriously cultivated as a science. In 
 the early days the passion for taking chances, which 
 the stirring incidents of mining life naturally engen 
 dered, and the want of more refined and ennobling 
 means of amusement caused it to be taken at once 
 into fjivor by the Californians; and in later years it 
 has lost nothing of its singular popularity — rising with 
 tlie march of civilization, from the cabin to the palace, 
 and exchanging the plebean bean, as a marker, for the 
 gay and ornamental ivory cliip. Every Californian, 
 almost, understands the nature of the game, and can 
 play with more or less art, according to the measure 
 
790 
 
 OAMBUKG. 
 
 of his intellect, and the opportunities he has had for 
 becoming proficient." The future historian, whose 
 name will naturally be written on the highest peak of 
 the sun-crowned Sierras of fame, on whom shall fall 
 the godlike task of tracing the rise and progress of 
 draw poker in this state, will find the pathway that 
 leads him back in his researches to the barbaric splen- 
 dor of 1849, strewn with rich incidents and racy anec- 
 dotes of notable "hands" that have been held, heroic 
 "calls" that have been made, and gigantic "blinds" 
 that have been promptly seen." 
 
 In September 1858 a little game of "draw" was 
 played on the classic banks of Georgiana slough, in 
 Sacramento county, which is worthy of notice, for the 
 reason that it proves the plastic character of the game, 
 and the illimitable resources that it affords the skillful 
 and experienced gambler. One evening a young 
 man, named Stone, who had been de\ oting his atten- 
 tion to the cultivation of sweet potatoes on the slough, 
 and had just disposed of his crop, was seduced into a 
 triangular game of poker with two professional players, 
 Budd Davis and Garland Adams, who, of course, had 
 entered into a conspiracy to pluck the young and in 
 experienced potato-merchant. Retiring to a little 
 cabin in the suburbs of Georgiana, the trio sat down 
 at a rude pine table, one corner of which was gar- 
 nished by a descendant of the house of Bourbon, of 
 the capacity of a quart, more or less, and by the dim 
 and flickering light of a tallow candle, began to court 
 the favor of fortune. Stone was rather a flhity sub- 
 ject to handle for the reason that he would not drink. 
 and was so excessively cautious that he would not bet 
 unless he held an almost invincible hand. For a time 
 the gamblers were undecided, and played along in 
 meditative silence, winning but little more than tl.c 
 mere ante-money from Stone, who paid no attention tt) 
 the presence of the royal visitor, and could not be 
 coaxed with ordinary full hands and fours to loosen 
 hii grip on the potato^moaey. Budd Davis finally 
 
DIVERS ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 721 
 
 took a long pull at the bottle and wns equal to the 
 emergency. He dealt the cards. There waa some 
 betting before the draw, and soon things began to get 
 lively. Before the draw, Stone held a pair of kings ; 
 he drew to his kings, and colored to the very roots of 
 his hair as he picked up the cards he had drawn, and 
 found two additional kings and an ace — making his 
 hand absolutely invincible. His agitation was plainly 
 visible, his hand trembling pitifully as he saw Adams* 
 bet of $20, and raised him $180 back. Good heavens I 
 can it be possible that Budd Davis is going to play 
 against that invincible hand ? Yes, he slowly counts 
 out the twenties until he has seen the $200 and goes 
 $260 better. Adams steps out for the appearance of 
 the thing, and an ominous silence reigns round the 
 board. Stone has $420 in his pocket, but a suspicion 
 that something is wrong begins to dawn upon his 
 mind and the flush fades from his face. He sees no 
 way of escape, however, and stands the raise. The 
 hands are shown down and Budd defeats his four 
 kings and an ace with four aces ! Of course, in gam- 
 bling parlance, he had lifted a cold hand on the young 
 man, that is, one already prepared from another deck 
 of cards and secreted somewhere about his person. 
 He was arrested at the instance of Stone, and tried 
 before a justice of the peace, but was discharged without 
 Itunishment. After that, we presume. Stone devoted 
 his attention to raising potatoes instead of raising 
 bets and going it blind. 
 
 I do not know of any other time or place where 
 could be found a servant of the living God going to 
 an emissary of Satan for aid to build a temple to the 
 former, for the express purpo.se of utterly confounding 
 and placing under foot the latter. It was not a very 
 praiseworthy act for the preacher to go to the gam- 
 bler on such a mission, and of the two the man of sin 
 shows to the better advantage. The omnipotent 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 46 
 
722 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 creator of the universe begging of the devil a few 
 dollars to help build a church I 
 
 It was in Sacramento in the winter of '49-50, and 
 the man was a well-known baptist clergyman. 
 Passing a gambling shop and hearing the chink of 
 the much desired metal, he entered, approached a 
 table, and made known his want to a man with an 
 open pleasing face, who was busy bucking at the tiger. 
 
 'Church, oh yesl People want churches as well 
 as gambling houses. How much do you want ? " 
 
 "Whatever you choose to give," blandly replied 
 the preacher. 
 
 "Well, you see the twenty on that card. If it 
 wins it's forty, and it's yours." 
 
 It won and the preacher took the forty dollars 
 from the courts of Belial to give it to his God. 
 
 "Hold on," exclaimed the gambler. " I have a ten 
 on that other card. You may have that." It won; 
 and the preacher desired to be off. "Stop a minute," 
 cried the man of sin. "Put your sixty dollars on 
 that card, and you'll have a hundred and twenty 
 sure, and if you'll stand by me we'll win enough to 
 build the whole damned concern." 
 
 "Who do you belong to?" apked a passenger of a 
 colored boy on the Sacramento boat bound down 
 in 1850. 
 
 "Don't know, sir," was the reply. 
 
 " Why don't you know ?" 
 
 "Well, when I come aboard. I blong to mass Sam 
 White, but he went me on two little par, and de clerk 
 ob dis boat he win me. Den Kernel Smiff he beat <lo 
 clerk on a bluff, and he had me last; so I can't tell 
 who I b'longs to till the game closes." 
 
 Many a man has fancied in vain that he has or can 
 devise a system by which he can surely win in tlie 
 long run. " One of the marvels of San Francisco," says 
 an English adventurer, " is its instant transformation 
 
 at a ( 
 
 into J 
 
 stores 
 
 Jlng I 
 
 lifc, op 
 
 cit J w 
 
 and b 
 
 usual 
 
 few w 
 
 the pi] 
 
 I foun 
 
 it mig] 
 
 fortune 
 
 directi( 
 
 a table 
 
 ing. i 
 
 was rai 
 
 interva 
 
 "K 
 
 outside 
 
 good tu 
 
 "'Y( 
 
 sume ? " 
 
 '"Ce 
 
 "'Th 
 
 "'W 
 
 win ? • 
 
 " 'Dil 
 
 "'Bu 
 
 the inte 
 
 stake is 
 
 of winnii 
 
 " ' No 
 
 how yoi 
 
 just the 
 
 win as n 
 
 of the ba 
 
 " ' The 
 
 I see peo 
 
GOOD ADTtCE. 
 
 723 
 
 at a certain hour each evening from a place of business 
 into a city of hells. The closing of the offices and 
 stores is the signal for the opening of a host of gamb- 
 ling saloons. They are all on the ground -oor, well 
 lit, opening on the streets, and so numerous as to ex« 
 cit .! wonder at night as to where the stores can be, 
 and by day where the saloons are. These are the 
 usual evening resort of all classes. And there are 
 few who do not occasionally attempt to win some of 
 the piles of gold and silver that glitter on the tables. 
 1 found myself strongly attracted by the thought that 
 it might be possible to cut my labor short by a few 
 fortunate ventures; but I had not done much in one 
 direction or the other when I found myself playing at 
 a table where one of my fellow-passengers was deal- 
 ing. As I had barely observed the man on board, I 
 was rather surprised by his whispering to me in an 
 interval of the game: 
 
 "'Keep your money in your pocket, meet me 
 outside at noon to-morrow, and I can do you a 
 good turn.* 
 
 " * You come to California to make money I pre- 
 sume ? " was the greeting when we met next day. 
 
 *' * Certainly,' I replied. 
 
 " 'Then take my advice,* said he, 'and don't play.* 
 
 " ' Why,* I asked laughingly, * is it so difficult to 
 win?' 
 
 " * Difficult 1' said he, 'it's impossible.* 
 
 " ' But wlien the chances are so nearly even, surely 
 the interval between the minimum and niaximuiu 
 stake is great enough to allow almost a certainty 
 of winning,* I said. 
 
 " ' Not a bit of it,* was the answer. * No matter 
 how you arrange your stakes, in the long run it is 
 just the same as if they were all of one size; you'll 
 win as many as you lose, and have the percentage 
 of the bank against you.' 
 
 " ' Then all those symptoms and calculations which 
 I see people following are a delusion ? ' 
 
724 
 
 OAMBUNO. 
 
 " ' Entirely so. Thejr are merely playing against a 
 certain event, which is bound in the long run tu 
 happen just once in the time it takes for them to win 
 as much as they lose when the event happens ; so that 
 they can make nothing by it.* 
 
 " 'But surely some events are far rarer than others, 
 and may be considered impossible/ I observed. 
 
 "'Nothing is impossible to the cards, because the 
 events don't depend on each other,' was the answer ; 
 and he continued. 'This dollar has only two sides; 
 suppose I toss it up and you guess wrong, does that 
 make you any more likely to guess right next time ? 
 Certainly not. I've seen men guess wrong more than 
 twenty times together. Besides, if you play only 
 against a very rare event, your winnings will be pri)- 
 portionably small; and consequently, in order to 
 double your capital, you must play so long as to give 
 the event a good chance of happening. Suppose you 
 play against losing ten times running ; you can tell 
 exactly how often you will do so by reckoning how 
 much your stake becomes if left on to win ten times 
 running. One piece doubled up ten times becomes 
 a 1024 ; therefore just once in that number of coups 
 you must lose or win ten times running; and you 
 must play that number of coups to win as much as 
 you lose when it comes. The game can't be played 
 without risking to lose as much as you can win, and 
 the best way of doing that is to put down the wholo 
 sum at once. You have just as good a chance of 
 doubling it as by any way of dividing it into uuall 
 stakes, and you don't expose it to being dribbled away 
 in percentage to the bank. But if you are wise you 
 won't touch the thing at all. I noticed you in the 
 Killoojiey, and though we never spoke that I recol 
 lect, I took a liking to you, and I don't mind telling 
 you that you are too good for the business. If you 
 have won keep what you have got, and if you have 
 lost put up with it. No gambler is ever the richer for 
 
 winni 
 
 tiirouj 
 (i ar 
 
 fessioi 
 
 in fi^u 
 
 possibi 
 
 tern m 
 
 In a gj 
 
 the lor 
 
 time tt 
 
 the ma 
 
 extraor 
 
 it. li 
 
 do not I 
 
 pf winn 
 
 interest* 
 
 until th( 
 
 have ma 
 
 which a1 
 
 fortunate 
 
 ence, I g 
 
 soon den 
 
 when I 
 
 leave off 
 
 being ev< 
 
 Ifc wouldii 
 
 such an c 
 
 down for 
 
 labor, ma 
 
 should be 
 
 Every un 
 
 doubtful 
 
 Every pro 
 
 tJie future 
 
 that cannc 
 
 "ThisC 
 
 Perhaps t 
 
 deeming p 
 
 Probably 
 
THE DOCTRINE OP CHANCE. 
 
 725 
 
 winning, and many a good man becomes a scoundrel 
 tiirough it.' 
 
 " Two or three further conversations with my pro- 
 fessional friend, and a careful analysis of the chances 
 in figures, convinced me that he is right as to the im- 
 possibility of winning by systematic play. Any sys- 
 tem may win for a time, but all must lose eventually. 
 In a game of pure chance, luck is everything; and m 
 the long run that must equalize itself. In the mean- 
 time the bank is gaining a certain steady profit, and 
 the maximum stake is placed so low as to prevent any 
 extraordinary event from inflicting a serious loss upon 
 it. I have discovered that I am no gambler, since I 
 do not care to play unless I think I have a certainty 
 of winning. I can quite understand any one being 
 interested in constructing various systems to play by 
 imtil the discovery conies that none are infallible. I 
 have made several, and examined many more, each of 
 which at first seemed as if they must win forever ; but, 
 fortunately, instead of testing them by actual experi- 
 ence, I showed them to my professional friend, who 
 soon demonstrated their weak points. He says that 
 when I thoroughly understand the chances, I shall 
 leave off figuring. He says the very fact of a chance 
 being even makes it impossible to beat it, otherwise 
 it wouldn't be even. It is a great pity. It would be 
 such an easy way of making a fortune if one could sit 
 down for a few hours a day, and, without risk or 
 labor, make a certain sum. I don't see why there 
 should be such a prejudice against gambling in itself. 
 Every undertaking in life is a venture more or less 
 doubtful. All these merchants here are liable to fail. 
 Every profession, marriage itself, is a lottery, in which 
 tlie future happiness of a life depends on an experiment 
 that cannot be undone. 
 
 " This Califomian expedition of mine is nothing less. 
 Perhaps the necessity of labor and judgment are re- 
 deeming points in all but mere chance speculations. 
 Probably the real evil of gambling consists m its 
 
726 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 looking onl^^ to the end or reward, and aflbrdlng no 
 employment for the higher faculties in the pursuit. 
 
 " It is impossible to fancy any artist attaining a high 
 degree of inspiration who thuiks solely of the money 
 he is to get for his work. I see how it is with me. 
 In this, as in all my other engrossments, I have boii 
 seeking for the absolute. It seems to me a species of 
 atheism to say that there is no infallible system, even 
 for playing monte. The remark that 'in the long 
 run nothing is impossible, because the events do not 
 depend on each other,' seems capable of being ai>plied 
 to a very different line of thought. If in the long run 
 of events all things can happen, there can be no doni- 
 onstration of a special providence, neither can a man 
 who believes in the absence of a controlling will or 
 character have any reason for objecting to any system 
 of religion on the score of its improbability. However 
 great niay be the chances against an event, tlio-se 
 chances are only against its occurring at any given 
 moment. If the opportunity be repeated exactly as 
 often as there are chances against the event, it is an 
 even chance that it occurs once in that number of 
 times. If oftener, the chances are actually hi favor 
 of its happening. It is an even chance every time 
 whether red or black wins; yet I am told that one 
 has been known to win thirty times together. The 
 odds against such a series are over a thousand millions 
 to one ; but in that number of attempts it becomes an 
 even chance that it occurs. And, inasmuch as tlie 
 past and future are entirely independent of each other, 
 the most improbable event may show itself directly 
 the game begins, and may be repeated many times in 
 rapid succession. Moreover, an event is brought no 
 nearer to happening after the game has gone on for 
 an indefinite time without its coming. It does not 
 become more likely after, or less likely before, many 
 hands have been dealt. Under the government of 
 chance, therefore, the most violently improbable 
 event not only may, but must, sooner or later occur." 
 
 O 
 
 were 
 
 the ] 
 
 they 
 
 coun 
 
 man^ 
 
 Tlie 
 
 befor 
 
 the si 
 
 theb 
 
 to In( 
 
 An 
 
 tall ai 
 
 and 8 
 
 wliich 
 
 Duke 
 
 so nob 
 
 this Wi 
 
 He 
 
 or smt 
 
 and sl( 
 
 mind, 
 
 dwellin 
 
 the wh 
 
 had noi 
 
 as he w 
 
 He 
 and as 
 rather 
 wealth, 
 which 
 the mou 
 There 
 time ev( 
 sional gj 
 rum-sel]< 
 fraternit 
 
ON RICH BAR. 
 
 727 
 
 So ai^ued this Englishman. 
 
 On Rich bar of Feather river, a wild rocky region, 
 were gathered in 1852 a community consisting fur 
 the most part of experienced miners, old Californians 
 they might almost call themselves, having been in the 
 country during those days of rapid development, 
 many of them for the full period of three years. 
 The houses were mostly of cloth in the spring, but 
 before winter log cabins were scattered along 
 the stream, with great gashes cut by the miners in 
 the bank hill-sides at short intervals all the way down 
 to Indian bar. 
 
 Among the rest was a young man of fine physique, 
 tall and strong, well built, broad shouldered, muscular 
 and sinewy, with an open, frank, intelligent face, 
 wliich commanded at once friendship and respect. 
 Duke John was the nickname the miners gave him, 
 so noble was he in mind, and heart, and bearing, and 
 this was all the name he was ever known by there. 
 
 He was steady in all his habits; he did not drink, 
 or smoke or gamble; he took care of himself, ate 
 and slept regularly, and rested on Sundays. His 
 mind, which evidently had been >ultivated, seemed 
 dwelling on some object or purixjse which buoyed up 
 the whole man, for in his daily work, to which he 
 had now become quite accustomed, he was as happy 
 as he was prosperous. 
 
 He had some money when he came to the bar; 
 and as he confined himself to coyoting in the banks 
 rather than fluming the river bed, he added to his 
 wealth, until there was of it some $20,000, with 
 which before the snows set in he intended to leave 
 the mountains and return home. 
 
 There were gamblers here of course. By this 
 time every prosperous mining camp had its profes- 
 sional gamblers, as surely as its butcher, doctor, or 
 rum-seller. The very fact of the presence of the 
 fraternity, in fat, sleek proportions, was the best proof 
 
OAMBUNO. 
 
 of the prosperity of the miners. There was one 
 gambler in particular, Hudson his name was, a 
 modest and refined fellow, thoroughly honest and 
 sober — even though his hair was of the dissembling 
 color, red — who attended to his business as faithfully 
 and methodically as did the merchant, the miner, or 
 the baker, dealing usually till twelve o'clock at night 
 on Indian bar, and then walking up to his boarding- 
 house on Rich bar to sleep. Hudson every day 
 passed by Duke's claim ; and though each had a good 
 word for the other, and there existed the best of 
 feeling between them, Duke never thought any more 
 of patronizing Hudson's game than of hiring the 
 doctor to amputate a perfectly sound leg. He did 
 not want the gambler's money ; he was very sure he 
 did not want the gambler to get his money ; he had 
 other thoughts and occupations for both his mind and 
 money than gambling. It had been so with him 
 ever since he was in the country, now three years ; 
 he lived a perfect life, amidst many wild and abnormal 
 doings, and all without knowing it. 
 
 One Saturday night, after a hard week's work, 
 during which he had been much alone, feeling that 
 he would like to meet and talk with the boys, lie went 
 down to Indian bar, and entered the large canvas 
 house which stood in the middle of the town and 
 served as drinking, gambling, and general congrega- 
 tion shop. With its strong subdued light radiating 
 far into the darkness, while yet upon the high divide, 
 separating the two bars, the wayfarer looked down 
 upon it as on a great glow-worm ; or if fancy struck 
 another strain, then as the canopied entrance to the 
 Anacheron pit. 
 
 It was early yet, and gambling had not fairly set 
 in. To drinking saloons and gaming tables Duke 
 John was as indifferent as to the pack-saddles and 
 molasses kegs of the merchandise store when he had 
 no need for either. He would not drink at a bar any 
 more than at a brook when he was not thirsty. His 
 
DUKE JOHN. 
 
 blood was warm enough, and ran its happy course 
 through healtliful veins; why should he want to 
 quicken it with poisonous draughts? He knew some- 
 thing of cards, of course; he had seen the manipula- 
 tion of them with checks and coin and gold-dust so 
 often and continuously of late that he knew the various 
 games as well as any one. Indeed, he did not refuse 
 to play upon occasion, or if he felt like it ; he was no 
 prude or fanatic, nor was he at all afraid of himself; he 
 was his own master, but he was no gambler — that 
 everybody knew — and he really never felt any desire 
 to play. 
 
 There was a poker game in the room, which had 
 just started. Two of the persons sitting at it Duke 
 knew; the other two seemed to be late arrivals — one 
 of them was clearly not a miner, or woiking-man, but 
 from his dress and manner would be called a sport. 
 The other stranger was of that nondescript cast which 
 would not surprise a bystander to see it assume any 
 shape at any moment. Duke seated himself on a 
 bench by the players with his back against the wall, 
 and listlessly watched the game while discussing the 
 news of the day. 
 
 Presently his friend was unexpectedly called away, 
 and as he rose to go he said : " Here, Duke, i)lay my 
 hand ; I'll be back directly," Duke assented, and for 
 half an hour or so did little more than chip in cA 
 keep his place in the game. 
 
 His friend not returning, Duke gradually paid a 
 little more attention to the game, and became really 
 quite aroused when he found himself with a very good 
 hand at a moment when the two strangers entered 
 upon some high betting. 
 
 " Fifty, is it?" said the sharper, for so we must de- 
 nominate the sporting man. " I will see it, and go a 
 hundred better." It was now Duke's turn, who went 
 in and raised the stake a hundred. The other stranger 
 passed himself out. " Five hundred better," exclaimed 
 the sharper, " Take it," said Duke, who, sitting be- 
 
730 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 hind three jacks, was satisfied that he had the better 
 hand, but did not like to risk so largely his friend's 
 money, thoi^h by this time he hardly knew whether 
 he was playing on hi? own account or for the other. 
 " Cheap enough," sneered the sharper, as he spread 
 out on the board his hand, which could boast nothing 
 hij^her than two fours. 
 
 I)uke detested bluffing. His nature was too single 
 and straightforward to enjoy indulging iii such trickery 
 himself, and he did not like any better to have it 
 played upon him. The sharper was quick enough to 
 discover this; he discovered also that Duke was not 
 greatly interested in the game, being apparently 
 unconcerned whether he won or lost, and certainly 
 having no intention of high play. And a sardonic 
 satisfaction warmed the scoundrel's heart as he saw 
 that at last he had been able to put his finger upon 
 this immaculate young man's weakness, upon the soft 
 spot in the character of one whom long before he had 
 become satisfied was of a superior order. 
 
 For an hour or more the game went on, and 
 Duke's friend did not return. Meanwhile the bet- 
 ting became heavier, several pots rising up into the 
 thousands, and Duke was lai^ely loser. Of course, 
 now he was playing for himself; he would not for a 
 moment expect his friend to suffer for his folly. But 
 he himself could not afford to lose so much money, 
 representing as it did weeks and months of toil and 
 self-donlal He would play for even, and then quit, 
 he said to himself; and here should end his first an 1 
 last attempt at real gambling. For he felt in his 
 sinking heart, in his boiling blood, in his face flushed 
 half in shame and half in anger — in anger at his own 
 folly and at the leenng, sneering sharper that this man 
 was playing him like an angler a fish which could 
 not escape the toils. 
 
 On went the game, the unfortunate Duke becoming 
 more and more involved. He had not with him so 
 much to lose, but he had already through the keeper 
 
 Duk( 
 tliat 
 
CAUGHT IN THE TOILS. 
 
 731 
 
 of the saloon made his credit good at the game, for 
 all knew well that he would never be led to venture 
 what he could not pay. 
 
 *' Five thousand more 1 " Hissed forth by the sharper 
 came these words, while his snake-like eyes were 
 riseted on his victim. There was already fifteen 
 thousand at stake on the board. Duke held a very 
 good hand, three kings and two sevens ; but the game 
 had drifted into such wild and reckless bluffing, that 
 the best hand was by no means always allowed to 
 take the money. Even now the sharper might have 
 nothing highe?" than a ten spot, or he might have 
 four aces ; there was no way to tell. Duke's hand 
 was good, very good, considering everything. The 
 chances were at least ten to one the sharper could 
 not beat it. That pot would make him whole, and 
 he would then be free from the infernal toils in which 
 he so unexpectedly found himself. On the other 
 hand it was ruin, absolute and eternal ruin, he felt 
 and knew it to be, if he lost. But his hand ; at least 
 ten to one in his favor. 
 
 Pale was the face, the heart irregular and jerking, 
 and hollow and sepulchiai the voice as the words 
 came forth "I call I" 
 
 The sharper could measure accurately enough the 
 Duke's hand ; he knew as well as if he had seen it 
 that it was not so very strong, for had it been the 
 young man would have manifested more confiden^-e. 
 Nor was it by any means a poor hand, else he would 
 iot have called him. He was sure enough of his 
 victim, as with a Satanic smile he slowly laid down 
 on the table one, two, three, four queens. 
 
 Without speaking a word Duke laid his cards upon 
 the pack, rose from his seat, and beckoning the 
 saloon man to follow, walked out into the darkness, 
 walked on through the darkness until he came to his 
 cabin, when, scraping the dirt from under one corner, 
 brought forth four bags, each containing $5,000 in 
 gold dust. ''This will make it good," he said, as he 
 
 iiilll 
 
7tt 
 
 OAlfBUNO. 
 
 handed it to the saloon man, who thereupon marched 
 back through the darkness. 
 
 The ruined young man Hkewise stepped forth into 
 the night The cabin was too close for him ; he could 
 not breathe within those so lately happy walls. "It 
 is like a dream ; a horrid, horrid dream. So sudden, 
 so accidental I Yet it is no dream, would to Grod it 
 were ! Fool, fool, fool I No, not fool ; fate I A pistol 
 ball crashing through my brain as I entered that 
 room would have been no less looked for, could have 
 held me scarcely less responsible. Why fate, or 
 providence, or almighty God could be so cruel as to 
 tear from me my hard earnings, my consecrated gold, 
 and give it to that thief, I cannot understand. 
 Punishment? I deserve no punishment. Punish- 
 ment for what? I am an honest man, aye an honest 
 man, and thou God knoweth it; that thing is a thief, 
 and thou God knoweth it. This is omnipotent jus- 
 tice; hell is full of such justice. My gold, aye, my 
 consecrated gold, consecrated to her. Ah Christ I 
 to her, my love I my love 1 " 
 
 Long he sat upon a stone, his head buried between 
 his hands ; then slowly arose, walked into the cabin, 
 took from his breast a well-worn picture, and holding 
 it close under the dim light of the candle, drank from 
 its lineaments the last draught of a thirsty soul. 
 " Farewell, sweet angel ; thine have I ever been ; 
 thine now no longer ! " Tearing up the pasteboard he 
 scattered the fragments about his cabin floor, blew 
 out the light, stepped forth, fastening the door after 
 him, and took the trail up the river to the high 
 divide, then zig-zag up the mountain. The moon was 
 now abroad, throwing its pale, impotent light as far 
 as it could into the black caflon, at the bottom of 
 which shone a thread of silver foam. 
 
 " Suicide ? Bah 1 I am no sick simpleton. I am 
 a man. I am not afraid to live. I can suffer. 
 Powers of heaven or hell, I defy you I As you 
 have done to me, so would not I to you. Take from 
 
A RUINED LITE. 
 
 733 
 
 the honest man and give to the thief I Take gold 
 consecrated to the highest and purest affections, and 
 cast it before swine 1 Omnipotent justice ? Bah I 
 again, I say. There Is none such ; no omnipotence 
 and no justice." 
 
 Up, up, through the pale moonlight, zigzag to the 
 mountain-top, then over the eternal snows, and down 
 toward the great river flowing oceanward, life, love, 
 justice, heaven — words, mere words, windy words, 
 words, words I 
 
 e 'i 
 
 Mil 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 Falntnff. Honour pricks mo on. Yea, Unt how if honour prick? m* off 
 when I come on? How then ? (Jan honour uet to a leg? No. Or an arm? 
 No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. H.mour liatli no Hkill in 
 surgery, then? No. VVTiat is honour? A word. Wliat ia in tliat word, 
 lioiiiiur? What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoping ! \\\m hath it? 
 Ho that died o'WednescJay. Uoth he foul it? No. Doth he lu-ar it? No. 
 'Tis inspusihlo, then. Yea, to tlio death But will it not live with the living? 
 No. Wiiy ? DetrfkCtion will not suffer it; therefore I'll none of it; honour is 
 a mere 'scutcheon and so ends my oatechism. 
 
 The time is i)ast when to nii average intellect the 
 neeessitv exists of deuounciou: fluelliny;, and we have 
 now only to regard with aatonisliment the boiHJnge of 
 our a'H'estors to this follv. In tiie evolution of pro- 
 gress, fashion, that ia to say actively exju-esscd opinion 
 or belief, is constantly undergoing change ; indeed, 
 change of belief, and corresponding action, is ])rogr('ss. 
 And as some of the beJitfs of past ages arc to us ab- 
 surdities so gross that wo can only wonder hf»w some 
 minds could for a niomeut have entertained them, so 
 will certain of our creeds and conduct appear to gen- 
 erations following. 
 
 Take for example woman; alonj; the liiL'hwavs of 
 liistory how variable her condition I Alternately 
 slave and saijit, n»»w she is tlic drudge and chattel (vf 
 man and nt>w his comj)anion and idol. To us the 
 strangest of all strange pa-ssions that ever blotted the 
 human heart, seems that fnun which s])rung the cruel 
 treatment of women which forn!(>d a prominent feature 
 in ai.eient ami half-civihzed warfare. What to us 
 could possi!)ly seem more unnotund than the pietnre 
 of an enraged soldier in whom blind furvlmd so swal- 
 
 ( -■■.•» ) 
 
 lowe 
 
 byt: 
 
 fair ( 
 
 Tl 
 
 with 
 
 SL-pp( 
 
 whicl 
 
 as m 
 
 beat 
 
 huma 
 
 blush 
 
 own i 
 
 TJj. 
 
 savagi 
 
 vidual 
 
 Ids w 
 
 tribes, 
 
 ing th( 
 
 now th 
 
 mcmbt 
 
 Tlie 
 
 stition 
 
 Were n 
 
 •Suflfere 
 
 arbitra 
 
 lible; ( 
 
 in the 
 
 intellec 
 
 the aln 
 
 these tl 
 
 fastene* 
 
 turios 
 
 eradicat 
 
 It W'i 
 
 tournai 
 and foHt 
 that th( 
 tiona. 
 place of 
 
 I 
 
 ] 
 
OBIOIN OP THE DUELLO. 
 
 78B 
 
 lowed all other passions that he should delight to drag 
 by the hair about the streets of a conquered city its 
 fair dauiihters in torn robes and with bl^^ofUng limbs ? 
 
 Then there is the institution of slavery, which 
 within these few centuries had half the world for its 
 supporters, that most anomalous of social anomalies, 
 which under the laws of man enable man to hold man 
 as merchandise, to own him, order him, bind him, 
 beat him, kill him — no one to-day openly upholds 
 human slavery as in the abstract right but would 
 blush for his opinion did he but know the depth of liis 
 own ignorance and error. 
 
 Tlie origin of the duello may be sought in that 
 savage sentiment of justice which made e\ery indi- 
 vidual the indicator of liis rijjlits and tlie avi-Uiier of 
 his wrongs. Before tlie coalescence of wandering 
 tribes, and in the absence of a central power embody- 
 ing the delegated riglit of individuals, that wliich is 
 now the tdtima ratio regum, was then the riglit of every 
 member of the patriarcltal association. 
 
 Thence tlie sentiment assunie<i tlie form of super- 
 stition. The earlier methods of deterinining guilt 
 were no less imperfect than tlioso at present m force. 
 Sufferers saw that governors and judges appointed to 
 arbitrate betw(?en accuser and accused were not infal- 
 lible; consequently appeal to a higher power direct, 
 in the form of combat, became a custom. When tlie 
 intellect v/as so far emancipated as to perceive that 
 the almighty did not interpose the finger of justice in 
 tlie.se trials of brute force, tl.j practice hadalrtiuly so 
 fastened itself upon society as a fashion, that for cen- 
 turies neither right nor reason was abU; wholly to 
 eradicate it. 
 
 It was during the ago of clilvalry wheji tilts and 
 tournaments encouraged a dis[>lay of personal prowess. 
 and fostered the worship of couragu and punctilio, 
 that the .luel assumed its most magnificent propor- 
 tions. In legal proceedings it sometimes took the 
 place of an oath, Public opinion kept the practice iu 
 
 m 
 
736 
 
 DUELUNO. 
 
 vo 
 
 J, e long after its folly was seen and admitted, even 
 by those who felt obliged to recognize the code. 
 Duelling was attackeo. by reason, sarcasm, and elo- 
 quence, long with little apparent avail. The best cure 
 was to withhold all sympathy both from the murderer 
 and the murdered. The death of Hamilton at the 
 hand of Burr excited national sympathy; yet why, 
 with his more than ordinary insight into the absurdi- 
 ties of the practice, and his more than ordinary ab- 
 horrence of it, he should be entitled to extraordinar}" 
 pity in the display of his weakness I cannot understand. 
 
 Why is it that when of all animals, civilized man 
 alone finds a code of laws necessary to his social exist- 
 ence, that in his fighting attributes the nearer lie ap- 
 proaches to bull-dog pluck and game-cock endurance, 
 the nearer he imitates the prizefighter and the sav- 
 age in his killing qualities, the more manly a man is 
 he ? In fighting, points of emulation and honor are 
 taken from boasts, but in the necessities of govern- 
 ment and law even beasts and savages may well hold 
 us hi contempt. 
 
 When King John of England, for the health of his 
 soul, as he affirms, though in truth for the safety of 
 his head, reluctantly granted his mailed barons the 
 magna cliarta, the keystone of English liberty, as 
 Hallam calls it, was laid. When Martin Luthor 
 raised his protest against the iniquities and errors of 
 the church bv nailing his theses to the door of tli(> 
 Schlosskirke at Wurtenberg, the bull of excommuni- 
 cation that followed enfranchised half Christendom. 
 When Thomas Jefferson's declaration of independence 
 was passed by the congress assembled at Philadelphia, 
 the latest and fairest type of liberty appeared, stain- 
 loss, save one foul blot, and that by the emancipation 
 proclamation of Abraham Lincoln was washed awav. 
 We who inherit the fruits of these several displays of 
 progressional phenomena, and which embody all tho 
 benefits of civil and religious liberty ; we whoso gov- 
 ernment is the mildest uudcr which civilized man has 
 
A VILE PRACnCE. 
 
 7»7 
 
 yet lived, being imposed unconditionally by ourselves ; 
 Vv'e whose beliefs are unsiiaekled, and whose intellects 
 are wanton as the air — were it an attribute of human- 
 ity to be absolutely free, surely we might boast our 
 freedom. 
 
 But absolute freedom is not an attribute of human- 
 ity, or if it be, the germ of such freedom does not 
 appear. Since the days of feudal serfdom, of trial by 
 combat, of inquisition and impositions, some progress 
 has been made, but progress only of certain kmds and 
 in certain directions. Palpable bondage we object to, 
 and thanks to our forefathers are fairly enough rid of, 
 but bondage impalpable, as far exceeding the other as 
 the infinite exceeds the finite, yet remains. Fetters 
 whicli we cannot feel we wear as gracefully as ever. 
 
 And no fetters imposed by the tyranny of fashion 
 on stupid, ignorant man liave been more galling to the 
 wearers, Imve been worn witli less comfort, bringing 
 ikpon tho.se under bondage to it that very contempt to 
 avoid which they subjected themselves to it, render- 
 ing them by means of their unhappy adornment all 
 t]\e more ridiculous in the eves of all sensible men — 
 none more absurd and wicked than the duello. 
 
 Nor may we yet boast our freedom from it. Though 
 by every rigiitminded member of society a duellist— 
 juid no less those who aid and abet him — is regarded 
 a nmrderer, the slave of a savage superstition civilized 
 by senseless fashion, and is denounced as a thing vile 
 atul contaminating, yet the wars which myriads of men 
 itnlulgc in as the ultimate appeal in the settlement of 
 their differences is but another phase (»f the same 
 superstition. 
 
 What can there be more hateful and unholy, what 
 rin there be less in accord with their profession, and 
 the spirit of the divine Christ which they aim to in- 
 culcate, than for ministers of the gospel, ranged on 
 cither side of a bloody arbitration, to mount their 
 )>ulpits and solemnly invoke the god of battles to give 
 them victory for the justness of their cause and the 
 
 C'Ai.. Int. Poc. 47 
 
Ytl 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 glory of his name? "Very wonderful 1" as Dr John- 
 son would say. "Would that it were impossible." 
 
 This is exactly what individual combatants did a 
 few centuries ago, and which we now so righteously 
 condemn. The only vital diflerence between war and 
 the duello is that one is a national and the other an 
 individual affair; and we are not yet sufficiently ad- 
 vanced in reason to realize that what is wrong in a 
 unit of the nation is wrong in the nation. True, when 
 the units of society delegate their rights to a general 
 government acting for the common good, it is their 
 duty to leave them there, and not to interfere wicli 
 the functions of government by breaking its laws in 
 the effort to right their own wrongs. Society alone 
 possesses tlie right to chastise. But should the gov- 
 ernment become impotent or corrupt, and fail to dosil 
 justly with the individuals composing it, then the in- 
 dividuals may withdraw the rights delegated, and act 
 for tliemselves if they have the power. Either duel- 
 ling is right or war is wrong. 
 
 In Christian countries the actions of men are meas- 
 ured by two tests, the approbation of the creator, and 
 the happiness of the creature, though as tlie subject 
 is more closely inspected, one test appears to bo 
 equivalent to the other. How nmch needless disput'; 
 there has been about reason and revelation, their con- 
 tradictions and absurdities. Between the two there 
 is no discord, else reason is unreason and revelation a 
 lie. The law of nature and of morality and the law 
 of God are one; not that God and nature are therein' 
 made one, but nature's law and nature's morals arc 
 God's law and morals. 
 
 Some call this appeal to battle Gr-d's plan, and so, 
 indeed, it is ; else in place of this now apparently only 
 way, he would appoint some other. Probably reli- 
 gious wars have exceeded all otliers in extent and 
 intensity among civilized nations. Now, why shouM 
 God wisl) a hundred thousand of his creatures in God's 
 name to slay another hundred thousand who asseniblj 
 
ABSURDITIES OP WAR. 
 
 780 
 
 to the slaughter for the love of God ? Is truth found 
 and opinion reconciled tliereby ? Is man in his ulti- 
 mate endeavor only physical ? The killing alters no 
 facts in the case. Must reason, then, gu for 
 naught ? Can no way but brute force be found to set- 
 tle ultimate dilferences? Then give the brutish in 
 our nature the glory, and talk no more of the ma- 
 jesty of mind. 
 
 All admit that war is an evil — a necessary evil, 
 some say, though necessary evil implies good, for the 
 presence of the evil is better for us than the absence 
 of it; hence, war is not an evil but a benefit. In 
 other words, there is no such thing as necessary evil. 
 War is an evil; who is to blame for it? Not you or 
 I, for we would put an end to it if we could ; not tlio 
 nation, which is but an aggregation of you's and I's; 
 not the rulers of mankind, who can do nothing of 
 lasting moment without the acquiescence of the ruled. 
 We simply know that it is ; not why nor whence. 
 
 Virtue they call it, on both sides the same; they 
 are noble men and true, they who fight for the ideal, 
 whatever it may be, religion, country, freedom. Vir- 
 tue then wars on virtue; this is the truth of it, for 
 virtue is never wholly on one side, and he is virtuous 
 who fights for what he believes right, whether he be 
 right or not. Virtue then slays virtue, as vice kills 
 vice. War and religion; strange companion?<hip. 
 One kills to cure, and the other cures to kill. Kill 
 and call it honor; serve God and butcher his people! 
 
 Why should hate be glorified ai.d deadly strife; 
 that thing we so despise in brutes, prize-figliterw, 
 bull-fighters, duellists, and all that ilk, why in nations 
 should we so exalt it? Both to the memory of the 
 slain in battle, and to those who kill them, poots raise 
 their most exalted strains, and God's ministers bless 
 them from sacred desks. Hirelings or haters it is all 
 the same, if they fight brutally well let them be ex- 
 alted. Let truth and humanity be taught, instead of 
 fanaticism and brute force, and war, liko any other 
 
710 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 Ravagism, will l)ecoine a disgrace, and the Boldicr will 
 carry on his brow the curse of Cain. 
 
 Single combats for the deciding of special difTer- 
 en( e8 come down to us from ancient dates. Many are 
 found in the Illiad of Homer, and the Hebrew 
 scriptures, the Mahometan, Greek, and Roman records 
 contain the accounts of some. But it was during the 
 Dark Age that trial by combat assumed its deepest 
 color of superstition. Attended with religious cere- 
 monies the wager of battle was then a direct appeal 
 to the decision of the almighty, and success was 
 proof of right. The ordeal was recognized, and in 
 (criminal cases which seemed to be soluble in no other 
 way, ganctioned by law. 
 
 Upon the establishment of the dogma of Francis 
 T. that " the lie was never to be put up with without 
 satisfaction, but by a baseborn fellow," lies were 
 classified and thirty -two distinct methods of satisfac- 
 tion pronounced. From France duelling then spread 
 ia[)idly all over Europe. During the reign of Louis 
 XIII. duelists would join the left handa and stab 
 each other with the right; they would enter a dark 
 or lighted room and there remain until only one could 
 ]o.a\c. Females have fought their duels in France 
 Finally edicts were issued for its suppression, but the 
 custom had become so rooted to the sentiment of 
 honor that pardons were almost as frequent as the 
 offence. 
 
 To obviate the necessity of personal encounter, 
 tribunals of honor for the reconciliation of disputes 
 in the army were established in Prussia; if the court 
 failed in its purpose the duel took place, and after 
 the offence imprisonment. The students of the Ger- 
 man universities indulged freely in ^.his pastime, wear- 
 ing armor and fighting with swords; but the boys 
 seldom hurt each other. In England duels became 
 more common as society became more refined and 
 orderly; disputes were settled by the individuals 
 themselves rather than by more general engagements. 
 
 Eng 
 
 ignoi 
 
 dueli 
 
 Two 
 
 in A 
 
 often 
 
 leade 
 
 parti* 
 
 In 
 
 there 
 
 all tj 
 
 hearti 
 
 to ki] 
 
 thems 
 
 the CO 
 
 event 
 
 which 
 
 how a 
 
 a wron 
 
 greatei 
 
 husbai] 
 
 infamo 
 
 To call 
 
 tagonia 
 
 duellist 
 
 all men 
 
 ing bra 
 
 tardy " 
 
 for thei 
 
 Bytl 
 
 butcher 
 
 follow f( 
 
 as a fag 
 
 grossly 
 
 sort of 
 
 efficiency 
 
 very qua 
 
 iraltntion 
 
 order wii 
 
THE CODE IN CALIFORNIA. 
 
 741 
 
 England's gi'eatest statefsnicn were not so great as to 
 ignore the custom. The Irish were famous for their 
 dueUstic proclivities. The Scotch were more wary. 
 Two Plymouth serving-men inaugurated the system 
 in America in 1621, and subsequently Boston has 
 often indulged in this method of arbitration. The 
 leaders of the revolution, and of subsecjuent political 
 parties were not above this superstition. 
 
 In the hostile encounters of the California miners 
 there was that same directness which characterized 
 all their proceedings. Simple-minded and single- 
 hearted they did not understand why, if they wished 
 to kill a man, they should at the same time set 
 themselves up to be killed by him. That might bo 
 the code; but it was a very foolish code. In any 
 event it was murder; but it made a vast difference 
 which did the killing. They could not understand 
 how a debt should be cancelled by increasing it, how 
 a wrong should be avenged by covering it with a 
 greater wrong, or how the honor of the outraged 
 husband or father should be healed by permitting the 
 infamous tempter of female chastity to shoot him. 
 To call it cowardly to take at disadvantage an an- 
 tagonist was of no avail, for they would tell you that 
 duellists, whipped to position by public opinion, are of 
 all men the greatest cowards. Therefore, with blaz- 
 ing brain and blood red hot they did not wait for the 
 tardy "lie direct; the "reply churlish" being enough 
 for them. 
 
 By those who deal in human blood, who make the 
 butchering of their fellows a profession which they 
 follow for gain or glory, as well as those who adopt it 
 as a fashion, the terms courage and cowardice are 
 grossly misapplied. In civilized warfare courage is a 
 sort of military idolatry, fostered for the greater 
 efficiency of the organization. It is composed of the 
 very qualities which it affects to despise, emulation, 
 imitation, and fear. The soldier dare not brave an 
 order with an opinion, dare not appear to be afraid, 
 
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 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WEST MAIN ST^fET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
«y S'3^ ///// 
 
 
fA 
 
 DUELLING, 
 
 dare not listen to conscience, to humanity, to right or 
 reason. Soul and sense alike are sunk in a slough of 
 brute persistence. Discipline demands it, we are 
 told ; and the more fully this dehumanizing process 
 has been carried out, the more effective the army. 
 The brutalization of the man is the first step; then 
 infure a fiendish spirit, and place all under the re- 
 strictions of necessary forms, and you have an organ- 
 ization fit for scientific slaughter. And the more to 
 blind our eyes to the hideous creation, we make it 
 the nation's moral ideal. Courage becomes synono- 
 mous with virtue; whatever interferes with the 
 growth and exercise of courage is deemed vicious. 
 With the ancient Romans the culture of the fine arts 
 was regarded a vice. 
 
 The sentiment as found in the duel is much more 
 frivolous. The bravery of the duellist is bravado; 
 his heroism is based on pusillanimous timidity. No 
 man whose hate is so deep-seated and vindictive as to 
 be satiated only by another's blood, will place his own 
 life within the range of equal probabilities of sacrifice 
 unless driven to it by that power most appalling to its 
 votaries, public opinion. Cowardice underlies the 
 courage of the duellist. He fights because he dare 
 lii t refuse. Religion, right, reason, are swallowed in 
 the abject terror inspired by the frown of his asso- 
 ciates. Half crazed, it may be, in the performance 
 of his unwelcome obligation, he stands before his ad- 
 versary the captive slave of cowardice, whose uncon- 
 trollable thoughts seem to whirl him along in frenzied 
 dance like an Orestes or a Hamlet. 
 
 To all such scarecrows as sv)ciety courage, the cut- 
 throats of the Californian Inferno were profoundly 
 indifferent. Did one wish to kill another, one sought 
 the other and slew on sight. Or, if fired by ambition, 
 the informal duellist might give notice that he was 
 then upon the war path, and should shoot a certain 
 man if not first shot by him. But it was only where 
 murder was raised to a fine art, as among journalists, 
 
MISSION DUELLING GROUNDS. 
 
 743 
 
 politicians, and those whose bread depended upon 
 public opinion, that persons were found so lost to 
 moral courage and manliness as to decline to fight 
 where they had no desire to slay. 
 
 Glacus, the Spartan, consulted the oracle at Delphi 
 concerning the restoration of certain money in his pos- 
 session to the rightful owner. " May I not" he asked, 
 " purge myself by oath after the Greek fashion and so 
 keep the money ? '" Thus from his courage, as Glacus 
 from his honestv, the duellist in vain beseeches his 
 gods to deliver him. 
 
 Socrates, if he wished to punish an enemy, would 
 let him escape punishment. "If he has stolen a sum 
 of money " he says, " let him keep it, and spend it on 
 him and his, regardless of religion and justice ; and if 
 he has done things worthy of death, let him not die, 
 but rather be immortal in his wickedness." So would 
 not the miners of California. 
 
 Of all men in the community during that epoch of 
 our history when insult could be washed out but by 
 blood alone, those who mouthed it most loudly, and 
 with sanctimonious visage sighed over the desecration 
 of our holy law, were the first to break it when what 
 they called their honor was at stake. 
 
 The duelling grounds in early times were at the 
 Mission. There was no need of secrecy in those days, 
 for sheriffs and judges never attended except as spec- 
 tators. Some of the most noted duellists of the day 
 sat upon the supreme bench and talked soberly about 
 the unsound principles of the anarchic and revolu- 
 tionary vigilance movement, and how by it all rights 
 of persons and security of prt)perty founded on consti- 
 tutional compact and legal form would be destroyed. 
 
 How vain and absurd ! Honest, order-loving men 
 may not strike one blow at a public scourge, one blow 
 for the commonwealth, for themselves, their friends, 
 yet their judges and those who denounce them shall 
 forsooth be praised for jumping from the bench and 
 breaking the law for the simple gratification of a hot 
 
:7U 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 passion. What was the duello, which code most of 
 these men recognized, but an appeal to private combat 
 for offences alleged to have been committed against 
 the arbitrary rules of society, against courtesy or eti- 
 
 3uette, so-called laws of honor, which courts of law 
 id not recognize ? 
 Journalists and politicians were those who most 
 delighted in this sort of argument. Their honor 
 seemingly required more care than that of others, and 
 it was necessary to keep it well patched, and not ex- 
 pose it too recklessly. But among the sporting fra- 
 ternity the code found some adherents, and now and 
 then a butcher and a baker attempted to balance their 
 books in that way, so that altogether there was at one 
 time a new duel for every issue of the Sunday's paper. 
 "Je veux biendtretue; mais mouille, non." "lam 
 willing to be killed, but I am not willing to be wet," 
 cried Sainte-Beuve as lie stood in the rain before Du- 
 bois, and regardless of the expostulations of the sec- 
 onds, fired four shots from under an umbrella. 
 
 Among the encounters of the early Spanish Amer- 
 ican adventurers were those of Velasco and Ponce de 
 Leon, who during the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella 
 chose a narrow bridge near Madrid, where they were 
 to fight without armor, in doublet and hose, with 
 spears ; of Ojeda and Nicuesa, who at Santo Domingo 
 talked of settling their differences by combat, until 
 the latter stipulated that each should put up $25,000 
 to fight for; of Nunez, the young page of Cortes, who 
 at Mexico in 1521 begged permission to accept the 
 challenge of a Mexican of great prowess, who, armed 
 with sword and buckler, defied the Spaniards to single 
 combat. After a desperate struggle the page slew 
 his antagonist, and bore to Cortes the spoils of victory. 
 But the most notable afiair of those in which America 
 was interested, was the challenge and almost immedi- 
 ate death of Diego Alvarado, who oiFered to fight 
 with Hernando Pizarro in Spain in 1539. Pizarro 
 
EARLY ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 1# 
 
 had unjustly condemned and executed Almagro, Al- 
 varado's friend. Five days after sending the challenge 
 Alvarado died, and dark suspicion fell on Pizarro, 
 whose misdeeds in Peru were well known, and who 
 was subsequently confined for twenty years. Cortes 
 himself had frequent affairs of honor before coming to 
 America. 
 
 Pillet, of the Pacific Fur Company, in May 1813 
 at the Spokane house in Washington, fought a duel 
 with Montour of the Northwest Company with pocket 
 pistolsat six paces. Both were hit ; one in the coatcollar 
 and the other in the trowsers' leg. Two men, one 
 from each of the respective companies, acted as sec- 
 onds. The wounds were all duly healed by the tailor. 
 
 Unhappy the day that brings accursed culture to a 
 simple home. Civilization teaches savagism how to 
 cheat at gambling, how to give and accept a challenge, 
 but when it comes to actual fighting then each pre- 
 fers its own way. In August 1814 a chief at Fort 
 Spokane was accused by a gigantic Scotch trapper, 
 McDonald, of having played unfairly while gambling, 
 and was told that he must come out and fight, for he 
 had been insulted and either he or the Scotchman 
 must die, for the world was not large enough to hold 
 a Scotchman and a Spokane who had gambled and 
 quarrelled. When the chief was informed of the or- 
 thodox way affairs of thail kind were conducted, he 
 greatly wondered that men could be so foolish as 
 openly to stand before each other's fire, and insisted 
 that they should retire to the woods where each 
 might choose a tree to stand behind, and dodge for 
 the first fire. Failing to agree, friends interposed and 
 the belligerents were pacified. 
 
 In 1845 a man was brought before a judge in Ore- 
 gon for challenging another to fight a duel, and in 
 accordance with a law just passed, he was fined $500 
 and disfranchised for life. In truth there seemed 
 to be more challenging than fighting, a genuine chal- 
 
 'ii'M 
 
 I I 
 
 m 
 
 ti 
 
746 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 lenge being almost equivalent in importance to a duel 
 in many places. 
 
 In 1 8 1 6 Jose de la Guerra y Noriegn and one Aspiroz 
 were dining at Governor Sola's house when they 
 quarreled, and the former challenged the latter. The 
 governor and two padres \vrote to Aspiroz begging 
 him to withdraw the challenge. There the matter 
 rested, but the feud was not wholly healed until five 
 yeois later. 
 
 It was common among the Hispano-Californians to re- 
 sort to the duello as a cure for jealousy, and for quarrels 
 over cards or elsewhere. They usually fought with 
 knives or old swords, and they cut one another at a terri- 
 ble rate until fatigued, when they would rest, or until one 
 cried enough, when the other would dictate terms. 
 Witnesses were not allowed. Common places of 
 meeting were the Huerta Vieja, the Huerta del Rey, 
 and Canada de la Segunda. 
 
 In a Canada near Santa Bdrbara, in 1825, Cabo 
 Canuto Borondo and Meliton Soto, paisanos, fought a 
 duel. Soto was the challenger, and there were no 
 witnesses to the affair. Civil proceedings were insti- 
 tuted, and the matter was likewise referred to the 
 ecclesiastical court. Father Duran as vicario foraneo 
 made the following report. The church, he says, can 
 not look with indifference on the almost certain and 
 eternal damnation of those who die in a duel, and has 
 accordingly imposed the most terrible punishment to 
 prevent such wickedness, namely, "excommunion 
 mayor late sententia ipso facto incurrenda." The bull 
 "detestibilum" of Pope Benedict XIV. denied burial 
 in consecrated ground for those who died in conse- 
 quence of this offence, an offence springing from a 
 most pernicious custom, introduced by the devil to 
 capture men's souls. The plea of ignorance would 
 not answer for an excuse ; only absolution ad causelam 
 would make right the hereafter. 
 
 In the mission archives of San Diego I find that in 
 
CALIFORNIA CASES. 
 
 747 
 
 1836, for sending a challenge to fight a duel, Thomas 
 Russell was fined ten dollars and confiscation of hia 
 pistol, or ten days in the guard house. In 1841 
 Uribe was fined five dollars for offering to fight a duel 
 with a bone ; and Ybarra was fined a dollar and a half 
 for accepting the challenge. This last mentioned 
 amount was more than Terry paid for killing 
 Erode rick. 
 
 In 1843 the noted Indian chief, Gdscolo, was the 
 terror of the San Josd jurisdiction, which for jears he 
 had kept in a state of constant alarm. He was tall in 
 person, of a deep bronze color, and with a look of cau- 
 tion in his eyes ; very ferocious, and in a hand-to- 
 hand fight as valiant as he was savage. Ever an en- 
 emy of the white man, during his long career of de- 
 predation and murder he never pardoned him wlio fell 
 into liis hands. Francisco Palomares, a noted Indian 
 fighter and by his own showing, although de razon no 
 less of a savage than Gdscolo, thus describes the lat- 
 ter's death 
 
 Having committed some peculiarly atrocious mur- 
 ders near San Josd, G6scolo was pursued by Corporal 
 Pena, and the escolta. of that mission, consisting of 
 some five or six men, accompanied by 100 of the mis- 
 sion Indians de giierra. Pena came upon Goscolo's 
 band unawares, and arranged his vastly superior force 
 in a circle, which gradually contracted round Goscolo 
 and his followers, who, to a man, died fighting within it. 
 
 One of Pena's auxiliaries, a personal encni}'^ of G6s- 
 colo, asked leave of his commander to challenge him 
 to single combat. This permission was given, Pena 
 ordering the battle to be temporarily suspended. 
 Thereupon the mission Indian in his own tongue 
 challenged G6scolo, who accepted, and moved to an 
 unobstructed spot near by, whither the challenger 
 followed him. The high contending parties were each 
 armed with a bow and arrows. Within view of the 
 opposing forces they began to shoot at one another. 
 At each shot both advanced a little, or mauceuvred 
 
 i 
 
 
 \ \W\ 
 
 m ! 
 
 I; 
 
w 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 for better position. This continued for nearly an 
 hour before either was wounded. Finally, after they 
 had advanced to within a few yards of each other, 
 the niissicn Indian contrived to drive an arrow through 
 his adversary's heart. 
 
 Goscolo's death was the signal for the resumption 
 of the suspended battle, and his disheartened followers 
 soon succumbed. Pena caused Goscolo's head to be 
 brought to him, and with his own hands affixing it to 
 his lance, carried it to the mission of San Jose, where 
 he ordered it nailed to a tree in front of the church 
 door, and there it remained for two or three months. 
 After G6scolo's death there was a notable diminution 
 of Indian depredations in the San Jose jurisdiction. 
 
 Fremont and Mason, while at Angeles in 1847, in- 
 dulged in the pastime of making faces and calling each 
 other bad names. Fremont did not like Mason over 
 him as master, and Mason did not admire Fremont's 
 behavior as subordinate. Fremont thought Mason's 
 plan was to provoke a challenge, and then to kill him 
 with a shotgun, in the use of which Mason was very 
 expert, while Frdmont was not. Fremont then studied 
 patience, but that was worse than the shot-gun; his 
 distempered thoughts at length broke into violent 
 words, and almost before he knew it, trial by shotgun 
 was upon him. Then swiftly passed death-missivrs 
 to and fro, and a fearful preparation for combat, wlicn 
 General Kearny placed his veto upon the sanguinary 
 frolic, and the soil of California was spared the threat- 
 ened draught of bad blood. 
 
 Joshua W. Collett, captain in the United States 
 army, was slain in a duel in Mexico in 1848. In De- 
 cember of this year Salvador Nieto was condemned 
 to six months' public labor by a jury of six of Lis 
 countrymen for challenging Nicolas Silvas to combat 
 and firing a pistol at him. Silvas was subjected to 
 three months' labor for accepting the challenge. 
 
 At Eureka in 1850 the somewhat stale play of a 
 
A SHAM DUEL, 
 
 749 
 
 sham duel came off, the only feature ahout it making 
 it worthy of mention being the narrow escape from 
 tleath of the victim. The fact is, those wonmnless 
 towns would do anything for fun. Two friends, Ray- 
 mond and Tucker, quarreled; the former challenged, 
 and the latter accepted. Both were brave and noble 
 young men, but Tucker was the best shot. He did 
 not wish to kill his friend, however easily he might 
 do so; indeed, he would not hurt a hair of his head. 
 Sliotguns were the weapons, but instead of balls, 
 which had been agreed upon, the guns were loaded 
 with blank cartridges. This was known to Tucker, 
 but not to Raymond or his second. To the five hun- 
 dred opt;n-mouthed and panting spectators the trick 
 was likewise unknown and unsuspected. At the first 
 fire Tucker fell, and the red gore spilled from his 
 breast. The crowd was stricken with horror. The 
 prostrate man was carefully taken up, and borne to 
 the house of a friend. Raymond fled, and escaped the 
 fury of tlie people, for Tucker was a favorite. The 
 man who acted as Raymond's second, however, was 
 less fortunate, and before he was fairly away, amidst 
 angry cries of " Seize him 1" "Hang him 1" a rush was 
 made, and it was only by declaring to them the joke 
 tliat his life was saved. Raymond lived three weeks 
 in the belief that he had killed his friend. 
 
 Following is a copy of a California challenge : 
 
 San Francisco, August 3, '54. 
 Mr W. R. Graham. 
 
 Sir — Your denial this morning of the arrangement 
 made between us, and your insulting conduct in that 
 connection, leaves me no resource but to demand the 
 redress that a gentleman has a right to expect. 
 
 Tliis will be handed you by my friend, Judge Mc- 
 Gowan, who has full authority to act for me. 
 
 Respectfully, 
 
 M. E. Flannaoan. 
 
 Some time in January 1851, Mr Walker, one of the 
 editors of the San Francisco Herald expressed fears 
 
 M' Ml" 
 
 li i 
 
750 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 that the public administrator and probate judge had 
 pickled rather than preserved a certain estate. Tlie 
 administrator took exceptions to such personalities 
 and threatened to cowhide the editor. W. H. Gra- 
 ham, a friend of the probate judge, then wrote an in- 
 sulting letter to the editor which provoked a challongo. 
 They fought with pistols and Walkf^r was woundid. 
 Captain Folsom assisted in loading tiie pistols, wliich 
 the seconds seemed unacquainted with, and witnossotl 
 the fight. Graham was arrested and held to bail in 
 the sum of $5,000. 
 
 The same year W. H. Graham and H. Lemon ex- 
 changed several sjiots with revolvers, one of which 
 wounded the latter in the shoulder. 
 
 A difficulty arose between Hopkins, deputy collector 
 and Taylor, inspector at San Francisco in 1851. They 
 agreed to meet at Benicia, but Taylor was arrested 
 and placed under bonds to keep the peace. 
 
 E. Stanley and S. W. Inge, representatives in con- 
 gress at Washington in 1851, one from North Caro- 
 lina and the otlier from Alabama, after a foolish and 
 empty jangle of words upon tlie floor of the house, 
 withdrew with pistols in order to kill each other. 
 After the exchange of one shot, fearing if continued 
 some one might be hurt, an aperture of escape was 
 found, and the farce ended. These men both figured 
 subsequently in California. 
 
 S. Wethered and otie Schaffer exchanged sliots 
 with guns in 1851 and were stopped by the authorities, 
 
 If Christians fight, may not heathen ? Meek in 
 manner and peaceful in action as the Chinese ordina- 
 rily are, they are yet, on occasions, capable of the most 
 coid-blooded savagery, and will slash each other to 
 pieces with diabolical zest. Their ideas of the code 
 are particularly murderous. A dispute occurring:; 
 among a number of them on the Mokelumne river in 
 the spring of 1851, relative to certain money matters, 
 the interested parties locked themselves in a (^•^l•k 
 room, and proceeded to arbitrate the matter sum ma- 
 
DURING THE FLUSH TIMES. 
 
 m 
 
 rlly with knives and iron bars, resultin*? in the slaying 
 and maiming of most of tiionj. How they distin- 
 guislied friend from foe is a mystery ; but to do so 
 was part of the performance. Bloodless barbarians 
 as they are, these people are not wanting in that 
 reckless disregard for life which more civilized nations 
 soberly term heroism. 
 
 During the first week in September 1851 George 
 McDougal and E. C. Kemblc, editor of the Alta ('(di- 
 fnniia, met twice, Komblo being the challcngor. The 
 law, jealous perhaps of the ancient form of trial by 
 combat, interfered at both meetings, and meanwhile 
 the blood of the belligerents cooled. 
 
 Out among the bushes in the suburbs of San Fran- 
 cisco, on the 10th of September, 1851, Joseph L. 
 Folsom, graduate of West Point, captain in the 
 United States army, chief of the quartermaster's de- 
 partment on the northwestern coast, first American 
 collector in California, and operator in Leidesdorff es- 
 tate and Yerba Buena sand hills, met A . C. Kussell, 
 both bent upon offering on the altar of their vengeance 
 the life of the other, that honor — without which 
 Mexican wars and advance in San Francisco real 
 estate brought no solace — now smeared and sulky, 
 might be appeased. It was just becoming dark on 
 the evening of that day, when these men mt t to kill 
 each other. The rabbits and quails paused he fore re- 
 tiring, to witness the singular spectacle. None of 
 them had ever before seen a duel fought, as the cus- 
 tom did not obtain among any species of beast kjiown 
 to them. After two shots each, the fiery combatants 
 embraced and went home. The rabbits and quails 
 were disi^usted. 
 
 A conundrum was the cause of it ; it takes but 
 little stirring to set effervescing bad blood mixed with 
 bad whiskey. Wine they called it this time; wine, 
 conviviality, and conundrums. In October IKfil at 
 Nevada, George M. Dibble, a whilom midshipman, 
 
m 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 told E. B. Lundy, a Canadian, that ho was a liar. 
 Now it is a small matter, comparatively, to bo a liar, 
 but a threat one to be told of it. Lundy replied with 
 opprobrious epithets, when Dibble challenged him. 
 The figiit came off on the Yuba, about eighteen niihs 
 from Nevada; pistols, fifteen paces. Dibble's pluit 
 was to draw Lundy's fire and then deliberately to kill 
 him. At the signal Lundy fired, and with an oatli 
 Dibble exclaimed. *'You have fired too soonl" Dib- 
 ble's second asked him, "Are you satisfied?" Whero- 
 ui)on Dibble opened his coat and exposed the places 
 where the ball had passed through his body. Ho 
 was thoroughly satisfied. Pushing aside those who 
 offered to sui)i)ort him he walked about 1 50 yards and 
 fell, dying in about twenty minutes. If all trials by 
 combat might end as justly as this, one could almost 
 sanction this species of arbitration. Tlie man killed 
 gave the insult and gave the challenge ; it was simply 
 right that he should die. Lundy was arrested and 
 the seconds gave themselves up voluntarily. 
 
 John Morrison killed William Leggett at the third 
 fire in 1852. This was a year prolific in pistoling. 
 A. C. Peachy, legislator, and James Blair, goverment 
 officer, figure in the duelling annals of 1852. About 
 the first of March o this same vear, a war of words 
 occurred at Sacramento between ex-governor William 
 Smith and David C. Broderick, which, however, was 
 amicably settled. The governor's son, J. Caleb 
 Smith, was not satisfied, and came out in a card in the 
 Democratic State Journal of March 10th, publishing 
 Broderick as a liar, scoundrel, and blackguard. Both 
 were in San Francisco at the time, and it was ex- 
 pected that soon there would be a first-class street 
 fight. Nearly a week passed without a collision, and 
 the crowds began to grow tired of congregating on 
 the corners to witness the show. At length the gladia- 
 tors appeared near the comer of Front and Sacra- 
 mento streets. Five hundred people were soon on 
 hand to be again disappointed. During this time 
 
IIAYKS A\l> NUCKXT. 
 
 m 
 
 mutual fritMulH wore nejjfotiatiu^ ; Siiiitli witlitlrow tlio 
 (•K'lisivc card, and chalK'iV'-fd Jiis aiitajjjonlst. Tliov 
 nu't oil tlio I7tli across the l)ay, a mile from slu.re, on 
 a flat |)icco of «.^round, four seconds and two sunjfcons, 
 with a county judij^e and sluTifl* bein^ in the distance. 
 Weajxins, Colts' navy revolvers. Smith won the 
 choice of ijrround, distance ten paces. Twelve shots 
 wore fired in all. Smith's third shot hit Broderick's 
 watch, passinjjj through it and slit»htly woundinij him. 
 At the second fire Broderick's pistol failed t(» revolve, 
 and from that time his whole front was exposed to 
 Smith's fire, as ho was compt^lled to u; < 1>otii haiuls. 
 Both were cool. Smith was 8atisfi(»d. X'o arrests 
 were made, as in the case of McDongal a short 
 time before. 
 
 On board the boat from San Francisco to Sacra- 
 mento in May, a dispute arose between \V. J f. Cart<>r 
 and ii. A. DeCourcy, editor of the Caiav^ras ('linni- 
 icle, in which Carter slapped DeCourcy's face. Do- 
 Courcy then challenged Carter, and on reachmjj;' 
 Sacramento they crossed the river and fought witli 
 pistols twenty paces. i^eCourcy was struck at the 
 first fire and the battle ended. 
 
 The 16th of June a duel was fought by two French- 
 men at Sonora, California, in which one of them was 
 killed. A mining claim was the matter in dispute. 
 
 Near the racecourse at San Fraticisco, the 8th of 
 July, Wethered and Winter fought with Colt's revol- 
 vers at ten paces. After the first shot Winter's pist(»l 
 revolved with difficulty, and at the fourth shot ho 
 received a ball in the side which struck his ribs and 
 gliding round made a Hesh wound which terminated 
 tho affair. 
 
 At a banquet tendered to Colonel Magruder of 
 San Diego by the Angeles citizens, in 1852, tlie (|ucs- 
 tion of groat men came up, and a doctor made mellow 
 with wine declared that his father was the greatest 
 American. Magruder called ohe doctor a danined 
 fool. A challenged followed : derringers across a 
 
 i ; 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 48 
 
754 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 table at a restaurant; to be fired after "ready I fire I 
 one, two, three 1" At the word "ready" the doctor 
 fired and missed, whereupon the Colonel marched 
 round the table upon his terrified opponent. Aftrr 
 a vain attempt to escape by the door which had bi'ci 
 barred by the spectators, the doctor crept under tl c, 
 table and, embrachig the legs of Magruder, cri.-d : 
 "Colonel Magruder, for the love of God, spare n;o 
 for my family's sake." the colonel gave him a ku k 
 and left. 
 
 John Nugent, editor of the San Francisco Ifrrahl, 
 and John Cotter, alderman from the fourth ward, 
 fought with pistols at ten paces the 15th of July, 
 1852, at Contra Costa. The hour fixed for tlio 
 meeting was twelve o'clock. The principals crossed 
 to Contra Costa the night previous. About half 
 past eleven the steamboat arrived with the sur- 
 geons, seconds, and a crowd of friends and news- 
 mongers. It was very much like going to a horse- 
 race. The moment the boat landed a rush was ma«!(^ 
 for conveyance to the ground about two miles distant. 
 Soon upon the road thither was a line of horses and 
 vehiclesof every description. Cotter was on the ground 
 and ready at five minutes before twelve, but Nugent 
 by some misunderstanding did not make his appear- 
 ance until half-past two. Inunediately on Nugi'nt's 
 arrival the pistols were loaded, the distance measurtc', 
 and tlie combatants placed in position. At the woid 
 the first shot was fired simultaneously and withoi.t 
 effect. Nugent's pistol snapped and bending to ank 
 it Cotter's ball struck his left thigh, producing a 
 compound fracture. Had he not moved the ball 
 would not have touched him. Nugent fell and w;:s 
 carried off by the surgeons. The ball was extracted, 
 and, with honor repaired, the wound was not slow to 
 heal. 
 
 It seemed incumbent on Nugent to shoot aldermen, 
 or rather to be shot by them, for again the followinLi; 
 year we find him fiiiLtino; Alderman Haves with rlHe^ 
 
GILBERT AND DEN\'ER. 
 
 736 
 
 at twenty paces. As before, a large number of s]K'o- 
 tators were present, and at the second tire Nugent 
 fell severely wounded. 
 
 Terms of duel between Haves and Nu<jjent. 
 
 San Francisco, June 8, 1853. 
 Mr H. Bowen. 
 
 Dr Sir — The terms that I propose with roferenro to 
 the contemplated meeting between Mr Hayes and 
 Mr Jolm Nugent are as follows : 
 
 Place in rear of Mr Green's residence. 
 
 Time eight o'clock a. m., June 9th. 
 
 Distance 18 paces. 
 
 Weapons to be used by both parties, compottMit 
 army Colt revolvers. 
 
 Challenge of John Nugent by W. H. Jones. 
 
 San Francisco, Aug. 11, 1852 
 ^Ir Jno. Nugent. 
 
 Sir — The insult oHorod me requires satisfat tion. 
 !M\' friend Mr Lewis Tral is authorized by me to make 
 the arrangements. 
 
 Your Ob't S't, 
 
 Wm H. Jones. 
 
 Edward Gilbert, member of the convention f«ir 
 forming the state constitution, one of the first Cal':- 
 fornian representatives to congress, and senior editor 
 of the AHa California newspaper, at tlie tuwe only 
 thirty -three years of age, was killed by J. W. Deli- 
 ver, state senator from Klamath and Trinity countii s, 
 the 2d of August, 1852, at Oak Grove near Sacra- 
 mento. The men had never seen each other until 
 they met upon the fatal field. A bill for th(> relief of 
 overland inunigrants had been passed by Uw last 
 legislature, which Gilbert believed to be inrtfettuid 
 and wrong, and done solely in the interests of ])()li- 
 ticians. Denver was pron)inent in the atfair. being a 
 personal friend of Bigler, and coimected with the 
 relief train. With a great show of charity, which 
 Gilbert ridiculed, Bigler had escorted the supply 
 train out of Sacramento. In reply to Gilbert's arti- 
 
 ri'iiiiif 
 
 
756 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 cles, Denver published a card couched in uncourteous 
 language. Gilbert replied and Denver retorted; 
 Gilbert challenged and Denver accepted. Thej'' 
 fougiit at sunrise with Wesson's rifles, at forty paces. 
 The first fire was without eftect. At the second fire 
 Gilbert fell, the ball entering just above the left hip. 
 His second immediately rushed up, when Gilbert 
 turned his face toward him with a smile, and died 
 without a groan. 
 
 On the 11th of December, 1852, a few days after 
 he ceased to be governor, John McDougal met A. C. 
 Russell, one of the editors of the San Francisco 
 Picayune, in an affair of honor. The cause was an 
 offensive article in the Picayune, of which Russell was 
 the author. They met on the San Jose road in Santa 
 Clara county, ten paces, pistols. Russell received a 
 bullet in the breast at the first fire, inflicting a slight 
 wound, which ended the fight. 
 
 In sanguinary unrest, with grey eyes murderously 
 set, W. M. Gwin and J. W. McCorkle, professional 
 politicians, met in 1853 near the Santa Clara line, to 
 blot out in blood some horse-race talk. After one 
 grand shot with rifles at thirty paces, both seemed 
 thoroughly satisfied. If the thing was continued, it 
 miglit cease to be amusing; rifles were rifles, and 
 thirty steps were not far. So the two braves smiled, 
 and the deputation of punctilious spitfires smiled, and 
 swore it was all a mistake, that nobody meant any- 
 thing, and that everybody else was only too glad that 
 everybody else was glad. And so wise men and 
 knaves all went home together. In truth, it is a 
 wonderful phenomenon, this mixture of folly, gun- 
 powder, and fear. 
 
 Oliver T. Baird, in 1853, at the second fire shot C. 
 J. Wright in the neck. 
 
 The 3d of November, 1853, C. Krug, editor of the 
 San Francisco Frcie Presse, independent German paper, 
 and Dr Loehr, editor of the Califoniia Democrat, the 
 
 Gerr 
 edltd 
 med£ 
 
 AttJ 
 thel 
 some 
 
 m 
 
 Rovve 
 
 the 5i 
 
 Pel 
 
 oflScer 
 
 and su 
 
 agaiijs 
 
 San F 
 
 tols a 
 
 years c 
 
 Ciia: 
 
 with d« 
 
 of Feb 
 
 ieft an 
 
 A]fr( 
 
 challen 
 
 sistant 
 
 fifteen 
 
 throu 
 
 "ightof 
 
 Rust, 
 
 the He 
 
 their pij 
 
 poreally, 
 
 Durin 
 for duels 
 tier-strik 
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 meeting 
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 J. P. Il 
 
 1 
 
THE MANIA OF 1854. 
 
 m 
 
 German state administration organ, settled certain 
 editorial ditferences just back of San Antonio in Ala- 
 meda county. Colts' navy revolvers, at six paces. 
 At the third fire Loehr's thumb was carried away by 
 the bullet of his antatjonist. The trouble arose from 
 some objectionable personalities in the Democrat. 
 
 May, senator from Trinity county, shot Edward 
 Rowe, express agent, in the neck at twenty paces on 
 the 5th of November, 1853, at Weaverville. 
 
 Peter Smith, son of Pinckney Smitli of Mississippi, 
 officer under Jefferson Davis in the war with Mexico, 
 and subsequently connected with the Lopez expedition 
 against Cuba, fought with WilUam H. Scott at the 
 San Francisco racecourse the 3d of August, with pis- 
 tols at eight paces. Smith was only twtnty-four 
 years of age. He was killed at the second fire. 
 
 CJiarles Somers and Thomas D. P. Lewis fought 
 with derringers at ten paces at San Francisco the 1 Itli 
 of February, 1853. Somers received a shot in the 
 left arm. 
 
 Alfred Crane, physician from Louisiana, in 1853 
 challenged Edward Toby, clerk of San Francisco as- 
 sistant aldermen. They fouglit with navy pistols at 
 fifteen paces. At the second fire Crane was shot 
 through the abdomen, and died next morning after a 
 night of agony. 
 
 Kust, editor of the Expresi^, and Stidger, editor of 
 the Herald, dropped their })ens one day and S( izetl 
 their pistols. The latter was slightly wounded cor- 
 poreally, but honor was healed. 
 
 During the year 1854, there appeared to be a mania 
 for duels. Editors fought. Lawyers, judges, shoul- 
 der-strikers, doctors, loafers fought. The legislature 
 of this year was called the fighting legislature, and if 
 a week or two passed without the notice of a lu)stile 
 meeting in the public journals, men looked at each 
 other as if something were wrong. 
 
 J. P. Rutland, clerk in the state treasurer's office, 
 
 ill 
 
 'IH'' 
 
 111! I 
 
7S8 
 
 ruErj,ixG. 
 
 taking offence at some remark of P. W. Thomas of 
 Auburn, sent him a challenge by James P. Dickson, 
 lu^spital physician at San Francisco. Thomas refus- 
 iiig to fight with Rutland, on the ground that he was 
 no gentleman, was then challenged by Dickson, and 
 on the next day, March 10th, the parties met at Oak 
 Grove. Thomas' second was Hamilton Bowie, and 
 tlie second of Dickson was the Honorable Judge Ed- 
 ward McGowan. Weapons, duelling pistols, distance, 
 thirteen paces, Dickson, who had the choice of 
 ground and the word, received Thomas' first fire just 
 under the ann, and the ball passed through his body. 
 Thomas fired first, otherwise it was thought that he, 
 too, must have been hit, as Dickson's ball struck the 
 ground directly at his feet. Dickson died next day, 
 his death causing great excitement, as he was a young 
 man of promise. Rutland felt grieved that Dickson 
 should have died in his place, and threatened to shoot 
 Thomas on sight unless he fought him, too. 
 
 The 10th of April a duel came off at the Pioneer 
 racecourse between H. Chaviteaux and M. Richards. 
 The second of the former was Conite de Raoussel- 
 Boulbon ; forthe latter E. Cavallier officiated. French 
 duelling-pistols were the wea[»ons, and the distance of 
 twenty-five paces made matters quite safe. Three 
 shots were exchanged, when the fiery French gentle- 
 men came to their serifi-es. No harm was done. 
 
 Agreement upon details in a pr<)i;K)sed duel: 
 
 The weapons to be duellhig pistols, distance 10 
 paces. Place of meeting, back of the racecourse near 
 the mission. To fire between the word^re and three. 
 To toss for choice of weapons. Then tor the pistols. 
 Then for the word. Then for choice of position on 
 ground. Any infringement of rules by either of the 
 principals "will be mett by certain death." 
 
 Lewis Teal, 
 Edw'p MoGowan. 
 
 The 10th of May an affair of honor came off near 
 the presidio between James Hawkins, of Tuolumne, 
 
ALL ABOUT A CHAIR. 
 
 7r>9 
 
 and Christopher Dowdigan of San Francisco. Tlie 
 second of the former was Philip T. Herbert, subse- 
 quently member of congress from Califoniia, and of 
 the latter William Mulligan, shoulder-striker and 
 politician. Weapons, rifles ; distance, forty yards, 
 liesult, D>)wdigan shot in the left arm. 
 
 On the night <if May 17th, N. Hubert, ex-member 
 of the assembly, and George T. Hunt, a San Francisco 
 attorney, had a personal difficulty in the JNtetropolitan 
 theatre. It was all about a chair. Hunt's fo<'t were 
 resting on it, and Hubert wished to occupy it. Words 
 passed, and then blows. Next day tlie case caino be- 
 fore the recorder. Both were fined fifty dollars, 
 though Hunt was declared the chief offender. The 
 following Saturday Hunt challenged Hubert to mecit 
 him at tlie Pioneer racecourse, and next morning at 
 half- past five they were on the ground. Hunt's sec- 
 onds were Knox and Fox, while Hubert was attended 
 by Charlo" S. Fairfax, ex-speaker of the assembly. 
 Weapons, duelling pistols; distance, ten paces. At 
 the third shot Hunt fell, with the bullet in his abdo- 
 men, and immediately calling Hubert to him forgave 
 everything. He died that evening. Hubert was 
 greatly affected as lie left the grounds. An editorial 
 appeared in the Alfa of May 2 2d, called out by the 
 killing of Hunt by Hubert. The same day Hubert 
 was arrested. Tlie next day two men, Thomas L. 
 Benson, native of London, and Richard Menzies, hav- 
 ing a difficulty over some business matter, met in the 
 outskirts with seconds and a surgeon. Weapons, 
 ^olt's revolvers, distance, fifteen paces. The combat- 
 ants would have compromised through the interfer- 
 ence of friends, but Benson's second objected, and 
 hurried him on to the ground. The first round Ben- 
 son's pistol hung fire. The second time he received 
 his antagonist's ball in the breast, and died next day. 
 
 The coroner's jury recommended the grand jury to 
 punish the offenders. 
 
 David E. Hacker and J. S. London fought in Gal- 
 
 
 I ' !i 
 
 ,1 
 i 
 
760 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 ifornia in 1854. Politics was the trouble; London 
 was killed. T. W. Park and M. C. Brazer, both 
 members of the fighting legislature, escaped an en- 
 counter unharmed. Washington wounded Washburn 
 badly; both were editors; there were good writers 
 and Qjood fitjchters in California about this time. 
 
 This time a woman was at the bottom of it, and tlie 
 combatants were Frenclimen, Ellseler and Dubert by 
 name. The compact was that they should fight with 
 broadswords until one or both were dead or disabled. 
 Both were skilled in the use of the weapon ; and as 
 desirable, French-speaking women were not plentiful 
 in California in those days, the battle promised blood. 
 Eight minutes of scientific gyrations resulted in a 
 severe cut in Ellseler's sword-arm. It was now pro- 
 posed to terminate the affair ; but how sliould they 
 divide the wimian between them ? Fight it out when 
 the wound was healed? No; women were tot) un- 
 certain. So at it they went again, hotter tlian ever, 
 and in twenty minutes more Ellseler's sword was 
 sheathed in Dubert's body. This was the Gth of 
 June ; Dubert died next morninij. 
 
 The 22d of September Rasey Biven of Stockton, 
 and H. P. Dorsey of Los Angeles, met near Oakland. 
 The seconds of Dorsey were Governor ]\IcDougal and 
 Mr Watson. Surgeon, C. M. Hitchcock, Seconds 
 of Biven, Senator Crabb and Mr Bandol[)h. Surgeon, 
 Briarly. Weapons, duelling pistols. Distance, ten 
 paces. Word was given by Biven's friends. At the 
 first fire Dorsev was wounded in the abdomen and 
 Biven in the wrist. 
 
 The duellistic event of this year, 1854, was the 
 planting in the heart of Devereaux J. Woodlief, a ball 
 by Achilles Kewen, on a wheel and fire, with rifles at 
 forty paces. It was a splendid shot, one of which 
 Achilles might well be proud. It is something to tell 
 one's children ; right through the heart and at forty 
 paces, wheel and fire. My dear children, I hope you 
 will all learn to shoot — to wheel and shoot right 
 
RYER AND LANGDON. 
 
 m 
 
 through the heart. A misunderstanding concorning 
 a politiral matter was the cause of the trouble. 
 
 Eiuly in 185G, a committee of the legislature in- 
 vestigated the management of the State Insane Asy- 
 lum under Dr K. K. Keid, whose place had been 
 made vacant by Governor Johnson, in order that it 
 might be filled by Dr Samuel Langdon, a gentleman 
 from North Carolina. Dr Washington M. llyer, a 
 native of New York, and an experienced and skilful 
 surgeon and physician, testified regarding the compara- 
 tive care of the insane patients under Dr Keid and his 
 success( )r, Dr Langdon. His testimony was decidedly 
 favorable to the former,and anything butcomplimcntary 
 to the latter. This was an indignity ui)on Langdon, so 
 his southern friends were pleased to construe it, and a 
 plan was devised to get rid of Dr Ilyer. One night, 
 about three weeks after the investigation, liver was 
 struck from behind, on the arm, by a ])istol. Ho 
 turned about, and saw Dr Langdon and Dr Hunter, 
 each with a pistol in hand ; he was himself unarmed. 
 " Which of you gentlemen desires to insult me ? " he 
 asked. Hunter replied, " Dr Langd(ni." Hyer calmly 
 said: "Dr Langdon, to-morrow I will hunt you." 
 But Lanixdon's business took him out of town for scv- 
 eral days, and Ryer was not able to find him. Samuel 
 A. Booker, Esq., a Virginia gentleman, advised liyer 
 not to follow Langdon up; that he would be taken 
 at a disadvantage, and allowed no show for his life, 
 and counselled him to settle the matter by the code. 
 A challenge was duly sent and accepted. The weap- 
 ons selected Vjy the challenged party, who was familiar 
 with all the devices of the art duello, were a brace of 
 pistols owned by Dr Aylett.*" When asked by 
 Colonel O'Neill, Langdon's principal second, to choose 
 one of them, Mr Booker, Ryer's principal second, 
 chose one and discreetly kept it until the meeting 
 
 *If these pistols were subsequently used in a celebrated <lucl in California, 
 this may account somewhat for tlie result to one of the principals, wlio was 
 not auj'ait in their use. 
 
DUELLIXC. 
 
 oocurretl. It was a most treacherous weapon, with- 
 out some fainiUarity witli which Ryer might well have 
 sacrificed himself. The hair-trigger of this pistol had 
 been made so sensitive that the mere motion to ele- 
 vate the nmzzle would discharge it in tlie hand of 
 one not knowhi^ tlie weapon. February 24, 1857, 
 the fight having been twice before hindered, the parties 
 confronted each other on Rough and Ready island, 
 four miles from Stockton. Tlie choice of position fell 
 to Langdon's lot, and he stood with his back to the 
 west. Ryer, opposite, received the rays of the setting 
 sun full in his face. To the proposition whether an 
 a})()logy, if offered, would be acceptable, Ryer firmly 
 said " No. No apology could atone for a blow." 
 Neither wns hurt by the first fire. Overtures for a 
 reconciliation were again di'clined, and the second fire 
 took place; no blood. At the third shot, Langdon 
 fell, severely wounded below the ligament of the 
 knee-cap. Colonel O'Neill, his second, then came 
 forward and asked if the challenging party was 
 satisfied. "Yes," said Ryer, "he has fallen." The 
 wounded man escaped with his life, but was a cripple 
 until he died in 1880. Dr Ryer had the largest prac- 
 tice in California; he had served as a regular surgeon 
 in the United States army through the Mexican war. 
 His friends claim, and not without reason, that there 
 was absolutely no alternative for him but to fight, and 
 that his living, his life, perhaps, depended upon his 
 taking advantage of the code itself. 
 
 Ferguson, state senator from Sacramento, told a 
 story in which a young woman acquaintance of G. 
 P. Johnson's figured, in a way which Johnson did 
 not like ; so he called Ferguson over to Angel Island, 
 on the 21st of August, 1858, and killed hhn. So 
 horrible was the offence of taking in vain the name 
 of a young woman happening to know G P. John- 
 son, that death alone was sufficient atonement ; hence 
 the terms of the murderous compact were pistols, ten 
 paces, and advance. The fourth shot brought the 
 
FERGUSON AND JOHNSON. 
 
 7«i 
 
 combatants within six steps of each other; at wliich 
 distance one would think a school boy in an iij^uo tit, 
 who had never seen a pistol, could kill the dasiardly 
 villain who made faces at his sister, (jeovge Pen 
 Johnson could hit Ferojuson at that distance at all 
 events ; he could shatter at six paces the thigh bone 
 of him who in a dramshop dared speak in other than 
 courtly phrases of a damsel fortunate enough to be 
 under the chivalrous protection of a Johnson ; could 
 with a bullet at six steps inflict a torturous wound 
 upon this fhppant-tongued honorable, whidi should 
 cause him twenty-four days of acutcst suffering and 
 finally death under amputation. Ferguson could well 
 enougli be spared, and if he had taken Johnson with 
 him California would not have been the loser. Among 
 those who call themselves gentlemen, who pretend to 
 that honesty and culture which give manners to so- 
 ciety, such scenes are by no means attractive — less 
 so, indeed, than those of the mad miners en- 
 camped along the gold belt, v/ho shot and slashed each 
 other in their bacchanals and cared neither fi)r (:rod 
 nor man. Law now steps in to give the final touch 
 to tliis ghastly farce. Surrendering to the authorities 
 of Marin county, Johnson was tried, and acquitted, 
 on the ground that Ferguson did not die from tiie ef- 
 fects of the shot, but because he would not submit to 
 earlier amputation 1 Most worshipped law ; incor- 
 ruptible, direct, void of hypocrisy and guile, let all 
 good villains bow at the mention of thy name 1 
 
 The most notable of Californian duels was that 
 fought b}' David S. Terry, associate justice of the su- 
 preme court ; and David C. Broderick, United States 
 senator from California. Both of these men were 
 actively opposed to the vigilance connnittee ; both 
 made politics a profession, both were high in official 
 position, derived their influence and support imme- 
 diately from the government, and held themselves up 
 as lights of the law shining upon the obscured intel- 
 lects of mechanical and mercantile plodders. Now, 
 
 
764 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 at this time in California the law against duollhig; was 
 plain enough, and stringent enough, but chivalrous 
 lawmakers paid no further attention to it than to 
 euii)loy it as a scapegoat in their unlawful murders. 
 Duellists were disqualified by law from holding office; 
 tlie majority of duellists were (»ftice-holders ; office- 
 holders fought duels and yet retained oflfice. Whence 
 it appears, following their example, tliat the highest 
 crime recognized by law may be perpetrated with im- 
 punity by the highest officers of the law, while the 
 most righteous acts of citizens, if done outside of the 
 prescribed forms of law, cannot be too severely de- 
 nounced and punished. No duellist has ever suffered 
 the punishment prescribed by law in California. 
 
 Midsummer 1859 saw Terry a defeated candidate 
 before the democratic convention for renomination to 
 the supreme bench. Broderick was a rough man, 
 and a violent politician of New York hybrid republi- 
 can proclivities, madly determined his head should be 
 higher set, either in the affairs of state or else upon a 
 stake ; and it was to him and his party that Terry 
 owed his defeat. In a speech at Sacramento, deliv- 
 ered before the convention held in Benton's church 
 the 24th of June, while professing resignation yet 
 smarting under defeat, Terry said, "Who have we 
 opposed to us ? A party based on no principle, ex- 
 cept the abusing of one section of the country and the 
 aggrandizement of another; a party which has no 
 existence in fifteen states of the confederacy, a party 
 whose principles never can prevail among free nn n 
 who love justice and are willing to do justice. What 
 other? A miserable remnant of a faction sailing 
 under false colors, trying to obtain votes under false 
 pretences. They have no distinction the}'^ are en- 
 titled to ; they are followers of one man, the personal 
 chattels of a single individual, whom they are ashamed 
 of. They belong heart and soul, body and breeches, 
 to David C. Broderick. They are yet ashamed to 
 acknowledge their master, and are calling themselves, 
 
BRODERICK-TERUY AFFAIR. 
 
 7C5 
 
 forsooth, Douglas democrats, when it is known, well 
 known to thoni and to us, that the gallant senator 
 from Illinois, whose voice lias always been lieard in 
 the advocacy of democratic princijdes, who now is not 
 disunited from the democratic party, has no atKliation 
 with them, no feeling in common with them. l*er- 
 liaps I am mistaken in their right to claim Douglas 
 as their leader. Perhaps they do sail under the flng 
 of Douglas, but it is the banner of the black Doug- 
 las, whose name is Frederick, not Stephen." 
 
 These and other remarks of like nature were printed 
 in the Sacramento papers, and copied generally 
 throughout the state. Broderick read them next 
 morning while at breakfast at the International 
 Hotel, and very naturally broke out in a fit of violent 
 personalities against Tcrrj'. It hajjpened that D. 
 W. Perley, friend and former law partner of Terry, 
 was seated at the table near Broderick, and heard 
 what he said. Perley claimed that Broderick's re- 
 marks were directed to him ; at all events he replied 
 to them, and Broderick retorted. Women being 
 present at t^.e table, Perley withdrew, and soon after 
 sent Brciderick a challenge. 
 
 Under date of Juno 20th, Broderick wrote in reply 
 to Perley that the publicity of the affair, if for no other 
 cause, prohibited a hostile meeting. Other reasons, 
 however, did exist which placed it beyond the power 
 of Broderick to give the satisfaction demanded. 
 Within the past few days Perley had made oath that 
 he was a subject of Groat Britain, and at the time of 
 the alleged insult and in the presence of gentlemen 
 the writer had said that he could not accept a chal- 
 lenge from one who had no political rights to be 
 affected by Indulgence in the practise of the code. 
 " For many years," continued Broderick, "and up 
 to the time of my elevation to the position I now 
 occupy, it was well known that I would not have 
 avoided any issue of the character proposed. If 
 compelled to accept a challenge; it could only be 
 
m 
 
 DUELUNO. 
 
 from a gcntloman lioUliuj^ a position equally clovatoa 
 aiui rospoiisibie, and there are no circumstances wliicli 
 coukl induce me even to do thus during the pcndi-ncy 
 of the present canvass. Wlien I authorized tiie an- 
 nouncement that I would ad<lres8 the people of Cali- 
 fornia durin_!4 the campaign, it was suggested that 
 efforts would be nuule to force me into dUHcuUies, 
 and I tii'termined to take no notice of attacks from 
 anv source during the canvass. If I were to accriit 
 your challenge, there are probably many other gentle- 
 men who would seek similar opportunities for hostile 
 meetings, for the ])urpose of accomplishing a jxjlitiotl 
 obj'ct, or to obtain public notoriety. I cannot atlbrd 
 at the present time to descend to a violation of the 
 constitution and the state laws to subserve either 
 their (»r your purposes." 
 
 Perlcy then in a card to the public pronounced 
 Brodcrick's letter a tissue of evasive falsehoods, mean, 
 quibl)rmg. dastardly, and that the writer was no Ic ss 
 void of courage than of principle, and tluit thence- 
 forth he had no right to the name of gentleman. 
 
 Two months elapsed, when, election being over, 
 and the term of the supreme judge near comjiletion, 
 Terry descended from his bench and demanded by 
 letter of Broderick an apology for the abusive words 
 spoken by him in the presence of Perley at the bn ak- 
 fast table of the International hotel. Broderick asked 
 particular mention of the language used. Terry gavi; 
 it as follows: "I have heretofore considered and 
 S]»okcn of Judge Terry as the only honest man on 
 the upreme court bench ; but I now take it all bark." 
 Or \ those were not the exact words, said Tc rrv, 
 thei ny words reflecting on his character as a gentle- 
 man id a magistrate. 
 
 To this Broderick replied that his words were 
 occasi ned by offensive allusions to him made liy 
 Terr\ at the Sacramento convention, and that as 
 nearly as he recollected the language used at the In- 
 ternational hotel was as follows; "During Judge 
 
THE MEETING. 
 
 707 
 
 Terry's inoarcoration l>y the vigilnnro comrnittpo, I 
 paid ,f-J()() u wvvk to 8Up[K>rt a newspaper in liis ile- 
 foiice. I iiavo also stated, liert't(>ru»'o, that I cnn- 
 sidcred him the only li(most man on the Bupreme 
 heiich, but I take it all hack." At a thiie when vitu- 
 peration was the lan«jjua}j;o current in political cindcs 
 Brodcrick was sonjuwhat surpined that w«)rds so 
 mild should be selected as the pretext for a nu'cting 
 and he could add in liis letter to Judge Terry : " You 
 are the best judge as to whether the languan'c affords 
 «j;o(«l grounds of offence." To this letter Broderii k 
 received a reply from Terry demanding the usual 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Long before tliis the issue of the correspondence 
 haii l)een determined, so that preliminaries were 
 brief Brodorick held that before he could retiact 
 the words spoken by him at the International, 'i'erry 
 must retract the offensive language used by him at Sac- 
 ramento.and nothing was further from Terry's purpose. 
 The fermentations of political hate had n aciied the 
 murderous stage, and one or tlie other of tlie leaders 
 nmst die. "Evil doers are punished," says l*rota- 
 goras "not in retaliation for past wrong, but to jne- 
 V Mit future Mrong;" so these politicians looked before 
 rather than behinil them. 
 
 Just over the San Francisco boundarA^ in San 
 Mateo county, on the morning of the 1 1 Ai of Sep- 
 tember, the combatants met; but before their l)]()ody 
 work began, Burke, chief of the San Francisco ])olice, 
 appeared upon the ground armed with a wanant of 
 arrest from each county. Arrived at the ]>()]ice court 
 tlie charge was dismissed; and the two men were 
 given their liberty on the ground that there had been 
 no violation of the law. 
 
 Two days later, at a quarter to seven o'clock, on 
 the morning of the 13th of September, at Davis' 
 rancho, about two miles south of the east end of Lake 
 Merced, being another point in San Mateo county 
 some twelve miles distant from San Francisco, they 
 
 ri 
 
 i 
 
768 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 met again and with more fatal result. The morn- 
 ing was fair, and the sun dropped gently its re- 
 freshing warmth as if in one last attempt to soften 
 the steeled hearts of these murderous men. So^ne 
 sixty persons were present, and among them no in- 
 terfering police. Coolness and indifference, either felt 
 or assumed, was manifested by both principals, who 
 stood apart conversing cheerfully with their attend- 
 ants while preparations were in progress. The choice 
 of weapons was won by Terry, and the choice of 
 position and word by Broderick. Eight-Inch Belgium 
 pistols, both set with hair trigger, were the weapons 
 used, and the distance was ten paces. Lagrode, who 
 loaded the pistols, testified before the coroner that 
 B ' dcrick's was more delicate on the trigger than tlie 
 one used by Terry. The word was to be the usual 
 "Fire; one, two, three 1" 
 
 The C(5mbatants were placed in position. Broderick 
 seemed careless and awkward. "Terry was as cold 
 as a marble statue," says the French journal Le Phare, 
 "not a muscle of his body moved; his eyes were fixed 
 on Broderick, and in his attitude was recognized the 
 practised duellist. He mahitained his position as erect 
 as an I, the arms straight along the body, the feet close 
 together, and reducing his height as much as possible." 
 According to the Alta's report, a second then stepped 
 forward and called the word "Are you ready, gentle- 
 men?" Fixing his eye keenly on his antagonist 
 Terry promptly replied "I am ready." Broderick, 
 grasping his weapon more firmly, likewise answered 
 "ready;" meanwhile partly turning from his vertical 
 position, exposing a fuller form as a mark for his ad- 
 versary. Broderick's hat was drawn partly over his 
 eyes and he seemed to be scanning a line on the 
 ground between him and his antagonist. Terry, on 
 the contrary, stood perfectly motionless, and eyed his 
 enemy calmly. Then at the word "Fire; one, twol" 
 Broderick partly raised his arm when his pistol dis- 
 charged prematurely, and the ball entered the ground 
 
DEATH OF BRODERICK. 
 
 799 
 
 a few feet in advance of where Terrj stooa. Not 
 more than two seconds after Terry, who had raised 
 his weapon, deliberately covering with it the breast of 
 his opponent, fired. The ball penetrated Broderick's 
 right breast, causing him to fall before his seconds 
 could reach him. "The shot is not mortal," exclaimed 
 Terry. " I have struck two inches to the right.'* 
 When he saw his proud enemy stretched upon 
 the ground, he slowly retired with his friends. How 
 these murderers can live, basking in the wrath of 
 heaven, as Juvenal would say, is a mystery to those 
 who feel within them conscience and humanity. 
 
 For four days Broderick lingered, suffering, when 
 not delirious, the greatest agony. "They have killed 
 me because I was opposed to the extension of slavery, 
 and a corrupt administration," he exclaimed in one of 
 his conscious moments. On the morning of the I7th 
 of September he died. The city was profoundly 
 moved. Two thousand citizens, beside the Pioneers 
 who buried it, followed the body to Lone Mountain 
 cemetery, where a granite monument now marks its 
 resting-place. Broderick seemed to find politics prof- 
 itable, as he left an estate of some $400,000. He left 
 a will at Washington, which was vigorously contested 
 at San Francisco, one of his seconds playing a con- 
 spicuous part in it, but was finally admitted to probate. 
 
 Writing the day ot Broderick's death, the editor of 
 the San Fr&ncim'o BuUetin says: " Whoever reads the 
 corresponuence between Messis Broderick and Terry 
 that preceded the late fatal duel, must be struck with 
 the trifling nature of the original quarrel between the 
 parties, and the absence of everything like an impera- 
 tive caute for a hostile meeting. Judge Terry, in the 
 heat of an extemporaneous speech, used language of 
 a general nature calculated undoubtedly to excite 
 anger in the breast of Mr Broderick. Yet that lan- 
 guage, when analyzed, did not reflect upon Broderick's 
 personal character or honor. It was injurious to his 
 l>'>litical interests, being calculated to estrange hiii 
 
 {'AL. Tnt. Poc. 49. 
 
770 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 political adherents. Broderick, in reading Terry's 
 speech, in a momentary fit of anger, as appears most 
 abundantly from the facts, declares that he had for- 
 merly believed that Terry was an honest judge, but 
 that he took back his former opinion. This remark 
 being reported to the judge, the latcer is induced to 
 wait two months, until the election campaign was 
 over, when he writes to the senator, and asks him to 
 retract his intimation upon his honesty. 
 
 " Taking the matter at this point, we say that the 
 quarrel was not of such a deadly character as to make 
 it absolutely necessary that a meeting should take 
 place. Say that the seconds and advisers of both 
 parties had been peaceably disposed, had been gov- 
 erned by a strong desire to prevent the shedding of 
 blood, and we hold that it would have been easy to 
 have prevented a duel. Mr Broderick distinctly 
 stated that his remarks at the International hotel 
 were called out by Judge Terry's speech in Mr Ben- 
 ton's church. Now, what prevented Judge Terry 
 from saying that in that speech he did not intend to 
 say anything personally dishonoring or offensive to the 
 senator? After reading that speech, we think that 
 such a disclaimer, while it would in all probability 
 have led to an amicable settlement, would have 'been 
 in consonance with the truth. Mr Broderick, after 
 such a disclaimer, if proper counsels had prevailed, 
 could with honor have withdrawn his passionate re- 
 marks made at the International ; and what has ter- 
 minated in a sad calamity might then have ended in 
 an exchange of courtesies. But even if Terry had 
 been obstinate, and refused to modify his first obnox- 
 ious language, since that of itself was properly no cause 
 of mortal quarrel, it would have been more magnani- 
 mous and honorable in Broderick to soften the bad 
 spirit of his own remarks so as to have taken away 
 even the pretext of a duel. Where there is a will 
 there is a way. The honor of Mr Broderick, we 
 think, could have been preserved in the eyes of all 
 
CENSURE OP SECONDS. 
 
 rti 
 
 honorable men if only his friends had taken the kind- 
 est and best course for their principal. 
 
 " But unfortunately, opposite counsels on all sides 
 prevailed. Both principals seemed to have been sur- 
 rounded by a set of bloody-minded hotspurs, who were 
 disposed to urge on the meeting to a fatal issue rather 
 than allow on either side the minutest waiving of 
 punctilio. Though Terry's original speech was given 
 doubtless with no thought of provoking Broderick to 
 a duel, and Broderick's rejoinder was made in hot 
 blood at the instant of receiving a strong provocation, 
 neither was allowed to state the truth, to bring about 
 a reconciliation, but were hurried to the field, with 
 deadly weapons in their hands, to shed blood without 
 justification or reasonable cause. We hold that the 
 seconds of these duellists are strongly to blame. They 
 should have prevented a meeting on such trifling 
 grounds. Failing to do so, they must be considered 
 as accessories before the fact to a cruel homicide, and 
 the law should vigorously be enforced by the proper 
 authorities to bring them to justice. 
 
 " But we go further than this, and maintain that 
 the seconds are the true instigators and promoters of 
 all duels. The principals in their hands are men of 
 wax, and can be moulded as they will. If people 
 of good standing in society will refuse to throw the 
 mantle of their position over the angry, deadly pas- 
 sions of would-be duellists, the practice itself of duel- 
 ling would soon expire. The seconds think that, 
 without any bodily danger to themselves, they have 
 the reflected honor of their principal's bravery and 
 contempt of death; then let them also have their re- 
 flected punishment. Let that be made as exemplary 
 as the punishment of the surviving principal and we 
 may soon hear less of duelling. The seconds or friends 
 of Mr Broderick were Joseph McKibbin, ex- member 
 of congress, and David D. Colton, ex-sherifl* of Siski- 
 you county. Those of Judge Terry were Thomas 
 Hayes, ex-county clerk of San Francisco, and Calhoun 
 
772 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 Benham, a lawyer in this city. All the&e men deserve 
 the penitentiary equally with Judge Terry." 
 
 And now, after this cold-blooded exhibition of in- 
 humanity and wanton insult of the law, comes the 
 prostitution of the law, for the shielding of its august 
 offender. Throughout life Terry's actions, if they 
 speak at all, imply simply this : laws are made for the 
 masses, who must be taught to respect them, to re- 
 gard it as impious to break, or even so much as vio- 
 lently to touch them. We who make and construe 
 the law, while outwardly showing it the greatest def- 
 erence for ourselves and our ermine's sake, may in- 
 dulge in a little license ; at all events we will so indulge 
 and break it when we please. Knowing thoroughly 
 its temper, pliability and capability, should we find 
 ourselves at any time unfortunately without the pale 
 of it, we will bend it to our purpose. Teach the peo- 
 ple to bow before law as before any superstition, and 
 we, the ministers of the law, may gratify our lawless 
 passions as we please. 
 
 Seeing the destruction he had wrought upon his 
 adversary, Terry retired to his farm twenty-five miles 
 from Stockton. Before the duel he had given his 
 resignation of office to a friend to be handed to the 
 governor in case the affair came off. On the 17th of 
 September Terry was arrested by policemen Lees and 
 Ellis, on a warrant sworn out by P. W. Shephard, and 
 issued by M. P. Blake, county judge. He was brought 
 before the court and released on giving $10,000 bail. 
 F. Truett, his defender before the vigilance committee, 
 was one of his bondsmen. The case was several 
 times postponed and shifted from one court to another, 
 until after nine months of dexterous manipulation it 
 was sent by Hager of the district court to Marin 
 county. "Few of our readers will be surprised at 
 this result," says the Bulletinoi the 11th of June 1860. 
 " To use a vulgar phrase, it was one of those things 
 which had been cut and dried, and most people here- 
 abouts were expecting it. The history of this prose- 
 
THE TRIAL FARCE. 
 
 773 
 
 cution is not calculated, however, to give people abroad 
 a very high opinion of the impartiality of criminal 
 proceedings in California. By a general law, Terry's 
 case should have been tried by our court of sessions ; 
 but Terry did not like our court of sessions ; and so, 
 not being able to dispute the authority of that court 
 to try him, he asks the legislature to pass a law tak- 
 ing all such cases out of courts of sessions. This the 
 legislature did ; in order to prevent a man charged 
 with a crime from being tried before a court he does 
 not like, courts of sessions all over the state are de- 
 clared incompetent to try duellists. That was the 
 first step. The case then came before Judge Hager 
 of a district court. There Terry made a new demand : 
 he asked now to select his own place of being tried, 
 and his own judge. All this has been granted. The 
 case is sent to Marin ; and J. H. Hardy, it is plain to 
 see, will be the judge. How the trial will terminate 
 is not hard to divine. A Marin jury acquitted the 
 duellist, Johnson, who also killed his man ; and it would 
 be strange if they do less for Terry." 
 
 Plate sin with gold 
 
 And the strong Ittnce of justice hurtless breaks ; 
 
 Clothe it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it. 
 
 Hardy, a personal friend of Terrj^'s, and a most 
 chivalrous and fire-eating judge of the law-and-order 
 stamp, came down from Mokelunnie Hill for the ex- 
 press purpose of presiding temporarily at tlie seventh 
 district court held at Marin county, in order to free 
 his friend. Wliat liad these men to fear from the law 
 when they could so play upon it that it would sing 
 any tune that best pleased them ? And now liear the 
 conclusion of the whole matter. The day is fixed for 
 trial, the hour has arrived; the witnesses from San 
 Francisco who should have been present are becalmed 
 upon the bay ; the court waits, and drinks, and smokes, 
 and swears a little; then the prosecuting attorney moves 
 a nolle prose/jui, and the trial of the Honorable David 
 S. Terry, late judge of the supreme court of California, 
 
774 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 for the killing of the Honorable David C. Broderick^ 
 late United States senator from California, ends be- 
 fore it begins. 
 
 A record of Hardy's acts while on the bench, and 
 at other times, would tend in no wise to raise the 
 character of these proceedings in the eyes of good 
 men. I give but one incident among many: While 
 judge of the sixteenth judicial district in March 1861, 
 he was iiidicted by the grand jury of San Francisco 
 for mur Jer, as being accessory before the fact to the 
 killing of Samuel T. r^ewell. It was said that Horace 
 Smith, brother-in-law of Hardy, visited the city the 
 New Year's day previous, for the purpose of killing • 
 Newoil. This adds but another case of ruffian justice 
 to the long list which disgraces the record of the ad- 
 herents of law-and-order. 
 
 Were I permitted but one word, one argument in 
 favor of vigilance, I would point to such men as these. 
 Behold them on the bench, behold tham as politicians, 
 as lawyers, as members of the commonwealth ; be- 
 hold their blood-stained hands, their ever-ready and 
 bloody weapons, behold them in public and in private, 
 at home and abroad, insulting the law and constitu- 
 tion, which so used to impress their sense of duty in 
 vigilance times 1 behold them anyhow or anywhere, 
 and they bespeak in stronger words than mine the 
 necessity of vigilance committees in all places where 
 such characters abound. As I love such men, so hate 
 I law, justice, and morality. 
 
 Among the merry men of Shasta in 1859 d> 
 sham duel was arranged between Grove K. Godfrey, 
 superintendent of common schools, and William B. 
 Stoddart, trustee, the latter alone of the two princi- 
 pals being privy to it. The meeting was to take place 
 at French gulch, the weapons, derringers, and the 
 distance ten paces. The pistols \v are loaded with bul- 
 lets of cork covered with tin foil, in the presence 
 of the assemblage which consisted of about sixty per- 
 
GATEWOOD AND GOODWIN. 
 
 775 
 
 sons, including most of the notables of the district. 
 The challenger, Stoddard, failed to appear and his 
 second, Levi, took his place. It was arranged that 
 Levi should fall, but Godfrey's pistol failing to dis- 
 charge, the joke soon leaked out, and so enraged was 
 the dupe, that Levi narrowly escaped with his life. 
 
 It was " conducted upon the most humane and hon- 
 orable terms known to the code," they said, when on 
 the 16th of September 1859, William J. Gatewood 
 shot P. Goodwin in the abdomen with a rifle at forty 
 yards, so that he died in excruciating agony within 
 three hours. The killing was done in a very gentle- 
 manly manner. Gatewood was a lawyer, and Good- 
 win a doctor. 
 
 " Doctor I am very sorry that this affair has term- 
 inated so ; very sorry indeed," said Gatewood. 
 
 " I am glad to know that you acted like a gentle- 
 man," replied Goodwin. 
 
 It was beautifully done ; and so sentimental like I 
 One would think the lawyer would almost rather 
 have been shot himself, and that the doctor found it 
 sweet to die at the hand of so gentlemanly a slayer. 
 The people of San Andreas where the two men lived 
 were likewise sorry ; they were both good fellows and 
 had their friends. They did not approve of an incen- 
 sate fashion based upon feudallstic superstition and 
 brute force, but, said they, " when the supreme judge 
 of the state lays aside the ermine to fight a duel; 
 when a United States' senator does not think it so 
 terrible to face the shot of an experienced marksman 
 at ten paces, as to look public opinion in the eye and 
 incur its scorn by refusing to accept a challenge; 
 when society and the people lavish their favors and 
 caresses upon those who have fought duels, and honor 
 the successful slayer — we see no recognized crime or 
 violence to the commonwealth in the act." Goodwin 
 spoke sharp words to Gatewood ; Gatewood struck 
 Goodwin ; Goodwin challenged and Gatewood killed. 
 Glory to Gatewood I Poor Goodwin ! Gatewood 
 
 IS 
 
776 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 sorry to kill him, but he should not have spoken 
 hastily. 
 
 There were principals, seconds, surgeons, friends, 
 and gapers to the measure of five carriages, which 
 conveyed them before six o'clock in the morning from 
 San Andreas to a flat near Torman's. Here the high 
 slaughterers descended from their vehicles and took 
 their positions. At the word both sprang their rifle 
 locks, but Goodwin's gun hung fire and Gatewood's 
 ball sped upon its death mission. Evidently Gate- 
 wood contemplated blood in some quarter, for he 
 brought to the field a vehicle suitable for the easy 
 carriage of a dying man, and this he magnanimously 
 left to the one he had made to feel the need of it. 
 
 Duels this year were quite the thing, particularly 
 among jurists. Only three days after the aflair at 
 San Andreas the town of Sonora sent forth its shrill 
 crow over a first-class fight. Sylvester Knight and 
 J. E. Easterbrook were the combatants ; Knight fell 
 at the first fire. 
 
 Daniel Showalter, of Mariposa, thirty -two years of 
 age, speaker pro tempore of the assembly, and Charles 
 W. Piercy, aged twenty -four, member from San Ber- 
 nardino, two light-headed boys lately from declaiming 
 school, fought eight miles from San Rafael, at four 
 o'clock. May 25th, 1861, with rifles at forty paces. 
 Upon our legislative floor hourly in accordance with 
 their well-paid duty stood these two wise and most 
 honorable young gentlemen making laws for sufiering 
 humanity, when one day upon a certain question 
 Showalter asks leave to explain his vote. Piercy ob- 
 jects. Showalter has nothing but contempt for any 
 gentleman who objects. Piercy challenges and Sho- 
 walter kills him at the second fire. Had the aflair 
 happened thirty years later, possibly Showalter's shot 
 might have dissipated more common-sense. 
 
 " The logic of the Enterprise editor is like the love 
 of God." These mysterious words appeared in the 
 editorial of a certain issue of the Virgmia Union dur- 
 
 his 
 
FIERY EDITOK.S. 
 
 777 
 
 ing the autumn of 1863, of which Thomas Fitch wa8 
 editor ; and he of whom they were written was I. T. 
 Goodman, editor of the Territorial Enterprise. Good- 
 man's aticle which called out the mystic rejoinder 
 was more slashing than sound ; and when the writer 
 first read the criticism he thought that Fitch, with 
 a forgiving spirit, intended it as a compliment. Tlie 
 love of God was surely good, and so must be likewise 
 his logic. 
 
 But the reporters, literary bummers, and wise men 
 of Virginia city began to question among themselves 
 what deep or dire significance lay wrapped in the 
 words. Whose were they and what was their con- 
 nection ? Mark Twain thought the words were from 
 Byron. Dan de Quille was sure he had seen them 
 in Baxter's Saints' Rest. The astute Goodman himself 
 claimed them for Shakespeare. But finally a thin- 
 haired rosy-vlsaged occupant of the bench beside the 
 entrance to the Fashion saloon, who had once been 
 whipped for running away from Sunday school, sug- 
 gested the bible. After due search a copy of the 
 book was found, and the passage brought to light, 
 with its continuation — "in that it surpasseth human 
 understanding." The astute Goodman's eyes were 
 opened, and he immediately set about to mend his 
 logic by sending Fitch a challenge to mortal combat. 
 
 The editors of Virginia were at that time, as a 
 rule, pugilistic in their proclivities ; what they lacked 
 in logic they made up for in pistolings; hence most of 
 them were already under bonds to keep the peace, 
 and new indulgence must be sought beyond the limits 
 of the territory. So the valley called Dry, over the 
 Californian boundary, was chosen for the further in- 
 terpretation of this scripture passage. Sophistical 
 as Goodman was with the pen, he was no less illog- 
 ical with the pistol. Ferrend, his second, recommended 
 a few lessons, and two days before the appointed time 
 the two went over into the valley to practise. A 
 pine burr placed midway between Goodman and a 
 
778 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 large tree served as a target. The instructions were 
 " Fire low and raise your pistol in a line with the 
 burr." The instructor gave the word, and the pupil 
 fired. Both burr and tree remained untouched. 
 Before the two days had expired, however, much am- 
 munition had been spent, and many burrs shattered. 
 The morning of the meeting broke cold and crisp. 
 A large fire had been built of dry pine limbs, at which 
 the injured Goodman was warming hiijiself There 
 lie stood awaiting his enemy, half in hope and half 
 in fear, as Hector waited the appearance of Achilles 
 before the walls of Troy. Presently Fitch, attended 
 by his friends, drew near. The combatants were soon 
 placed in position and the word given to fire. Simul- 
 taneously the shots rang through the valley, the 
 astute Goodman stood erect, but Fitch dropped his 
 pistol, grasped his knee, and turning half round fell 
 to the ground. Then all went back to their re- 
 spective avocations, happy in the consciousness of a 
 duty well performed, of a great principle vindicated, 
 and of an intricate question solved. Meanwhile the 
 astute Goodman thought to mend his logic, while 
 Fitch thought only of his knee. 
 
 Billy Mulligan and Tom Coleman having quarreled, 
 proceeded according to the custom of such gentlemen 
 to settle the difficulty by an informal shooting. Meet- 
 ing one day in April 1864 at Austin, Nevada, Cole- 
 man drew ; but Mulligan from long association with 
 the law and order party, with governors, congress- 
 men, legislators, and judges for his friends, was becom- 
 ing somewhat fastidious in his tastes, and proposed 
 the matter should be conducted on the latest and 
 most approved method. Coleman agreed. Next day 
 they met and fought with revolvers at ten paces. 
 After exchanging six shots, in which Coleman was 
 twice wounded, once in the finger and once in the leg, 
 the distinguished gentlemen retired from the field. 
 
 At Laguna Honda near San Francisco in June 1865, 
 
VERY POOR SHOOTINi;. 
 
 779 
 
 a mock duel came ofl' between a tailor and a barber, 
 the latter only being cognizant of the joke. The de- 
 tails are ttx) childish for record. 
 
 At Music hall in Virginia, Nevada, on the 9th of 
 March, 1805, a difficulty arose between Boss Fouke 
 and Charles Safford, well known in the sporting circles 
 of that vicinity. Fouke drew a weapon. Safford 
 said he was not anned ; and besides, that was no way 
 for gentlemen to fight. If Fouke would name a time 
 and place, Safford would meet and remain witli him 
 as long as he should desire his comimny. Fouke ac- 
 quiesced ; and the next morning an agreement was 
 drawn up in writing, and signed by both, to meet 
 that day at five o'clock at Long valley, and with navy 
 six-shooters, at ten paces, to fire at the word, and 
 then to advance at pleasure, and to continue firing 
 until all the chambers should be discharged if one of 
 them was not disabled in the meantime. Accordingly 
 they met, about 150 persons being present. Each 
 had two seconds ; Fiimegan and Louis La Page act- 
 ing for Safford, and Dr Colombo and Jack McNabb for 
 Fouke. The combatants were stationed, the weapons 
 placed in their hands, and the word given. Fouke 
 was struck at the first fire; but swerving to the right 
 with his head bent downward he continued to shoot. 
 Safford advanced two paces in a direct line keeping 
 up the fire. Every shot on both sides was expended 
 but there was no hit after the first fire, which sent a 
 ball through the fleshy part of Fouke's breast making 
 a bloody but not dangerous wound. The men became 
 reconciled, then each desired that the other might 
 live, and shaking hands they returned to their homes. 
 
 Two friends, a book-keeper and a lawyer, living in 
 Virginia, Nevada, in 1865, fell in love with the same 
 female and quarrelled. The woman favored the 
 book-keeper. At a party the two men came to blows 
 and pistol shots. Next day the lawyer challenged 
 the book-keeper to fight, but the latter declined. 
 Toward evening the two men met on the street. The 
 
 ii 
 
780 
 
 DUJaj.lNO. 
 
 lawyer drawing at once a whip and a revolver struck 
 the book-keeper and exclaimed, ** You won't tight, eh 1 
 Then take that I and thatl" accompanying the first 
 exclamation with a blow of the whip on the head, 
 and the next with a pistol-shot which took effect in 
 the side. The book-keeper staggered back for a 
 moment, then drawing a pistol both fired simultane- 
 ously, the ball from the book-keeper's pistol entering 
 the lawyer's brain. The book-keeper married the 
 girl. This is a very common-place story ; but its 
 frame- work will answer for a hundred others. 
 
 Charles Anderson and a Mr Lewis, in January 
 1866, at Sinker creek, ten miles below the Ainsworth 
 mill, in Owyhee county, Idaho, quarrelled about some 
 hay, and fought with knives. Both were killed ; one 
 died immediately, and the other shortly afterward. 
 
 The TerrUorial Enterprise of the 31st of March, 
 1857, thus takes off a fight which occurred at Dayton 
 between B. F. Leetingham and A. L. Buck, the 
 combat being the ultimate appeal in the settlement of 
 a dispute concerning a piece of sluicing-ground. 
 
 " The dispute between the parties was about a piece 
 of sluicing ground, but no matter about that. The 
 fight began about six o'clock in the morning, when 
 Leetingham came into the ring smiling, and knocked 
 a chip off Buck's shoulder. Buck in return gave 
 Leetingham a look which cut him to the soul. First 
 blood for Buck I The bottle-holders advanced, and 
 sponged their mouths and nostrils. Time being called, 
 the principals resumed their places. Till half-past 
 eight o'clocP.: the parties stood face to face, neither 
 moving a muscle. Then it was thought by some of 
 Buck's baclii^i's that Leetingham was observed to 
 wink, and they called upon the referees to decide the 
 dispute. On looking for the referees they were no- 
 where to be seen. A committee started toward the 
 town to find them, as some one said they had gone off 
 in that direction nearly an hour before to get, as was 
 supposed, a supply of blue-ruin whisky. About half 
 
8Pi<X3IMEN OK NEVADA HUMOR. 
 
 781 
 
 way between the ring and the town they were found, 
 sitting flat on the ground with a gallon measure of 
 whisky between them, and each a clay pipe in his 
 mouth. One was backing Buck and the other Leet- 
 ingham. Both were naked as the day they were born, 
 having bet all their valuables, then their hats, and 
 one article of clothing after another, piling them up 
 in a heap, till nothing was left but their pipes, which 
 they were in the act of betting when found. As they 
 were too drunk to stand, they were not disturbed. 
 Meantime the fight was growing more furious. It 
 had been asserted that Buck wmked at about the 
 same time that Leetingham had done so, and the sec- 
 onds were about to call it a draw and advance and 
 sponge them off when Buck made a mouth at Leet- 
 ingham. Leetingham could no longer bo restrained, 
 and established rules had no meaning for hhu. He 
 advanced a step toward Buck, and thrust his tongue 
 out at him. The fight was now a regular rough and 
 tumble. Leetingham continued to advance upon 
 Buck, punishing him severely in the manner we have 
 stated, till both were far out of the ring, the crowd 
 following and cheering for Leetuigliam. This con- 
 tinued to be the position of this brilliant and stub- 
 bornly contested affair till half-past nuie o'clock, two 
 to one being offered on Leetingham, with no takers. 
 Leetingham now made an attempt to take a chew of 
 tobacco, but in doing so made a bad mistake, as the 
 moment his tongue was in his mouth. Buck seeing 
 his chance, at once thrust forth hie own, and having 
 thus turned the tables on his antagonist, caused him 
 to retreat. In going backward, Leetingham fell into 
 a shafb some 280 feet in depth. A windlass was pro- 
 cured, and he was hoisted out. On reaching the sur- 
 face he was still unconquered. Placing his thumb 
 upon his nose, he made a charge upon Buck, twirling 
 his fingers savagely. At noon, the fight being still 
 in this position, the spectators all went to town to 
 dinner. Returning about one o'clock, they searched 
 
782 
 
 DUELLINO. 
 
 till about four in the evening for the combatants, bets 
 being high all this time on Leetingham, when they 
 were at last found on a rocky point projecting over 
 the surging waters of the Carson. Leetingham was 
 crouched upon the farthest projecting point of a crag, 
 begging pitifully for quarter, while Buck was seated 
 complacently before him, triumphantly pulling down 
 the lower lid of his left eye with his unsparing right 
 forefinger," This very funny and instructive story 
 was doubtless by Goodman. 
 
 Ferrend — major, they used to call him, in recherche 
 affairs every second must have a title if he has noth- 
 ing else — Ferrend had many calls of this kind during 
 the early days of Nevada. He was easily found, 
 smelling blood from afar, and was always ready to 
 assist at a funeral of this sort. One day in Wood and 
 Wilson's saloon, Jack Hunter knocked Bill Pitcher 
 down. Pitcher arose, found Ferrend, and challenged 
 Hunter. The latter assented, and named dragoon six- 
 shooters, next morning at sunrise, at the ravine below 
 the Gould and Curry mill, all of which was satisfac- 
 tory. But when Hunter specified that all the cham- 
 bers of the revolvers should be loaded, and that after 
 the word was given firing should continue, if possible, 
 until the six shots were discharged. Ferrend regarded 
 it murderous, which strikes one unlearned in the tech- 
 nicalities of refined murder as the irony of duelling ; 
 since why should they fight, if not to kill, and after 
 one was killed, what did it matter how many extra 
 bullet-holes were made in his carcass? Nevertheless, 
 it was voted barbarous ; killing should be done gen- 
 teelly, and with decorum. Placed in position, the 
 word was given, and simultaneously the two weapons 
 rang one report. "I think I can stand another shot," 
 said Hunter, but before the seconds could reload he 
 fainted, having been shot through the hips. Three 
 days afterward he died. 
 
 A duel was fought by two distinguished French 
 gentlemen in the vicinity of Lone Mountain cemetery 
 
THE CODE IN PRISON. 
 
 783 
 
 in April 1869 with swords. Amidst circlings, and 
 divers jumping-jack manoeuvrs, they pricked each 
 other until the blood began to flow, when they con- 
 cluded they did not like it, and went home. 
 
 A duel was fought with Kentucky rifles, thirty 
 paces, wheel and fire, at Los Angeles the 25th of 
 March, 1870. The high contending principals were 
 John B. Wilson, son of a senator, and Charles E. 
 Beane, journalistic scribe ; cause, wine and politics, 
 a common but unhealthy mixture. Taking with them 
 a surgeon, which signified blood, the belligerents gat 
 themselves beyond the city limits, and prepared each 
 for the other's death. Wilson was the challenger. 
 At the signal Wilson turned quickly and pulled, but 
 the guu refused to fire, and Beane magnanimously 
 withheld his shot. Re-loading Wilson's piece the 
 order was again given and both fired. Beane was un- 
 liarmed but Wilson dropped his gun, his honor satis- 
 fied. A flesh wound was found in the left arm. 
 Then followed a scene of sweet reconciliation, and the 
 heroes departed to their homes. 
 
 Confinement does not always wring all passion from 
 the man, and the inmates of prisons deem their right 
 to cut and kill each other in a gentlemanly way as 
 good as that of prize-fighters, judges, and legislators. 
 Feter Hanley and John O'Brien lived at San Quen- 
 tin, lived there upon compulsion. One day, it was 
 the 4th of June, 1877, as for their sins they were car- 
 rying the hod, they indulged in an argument upon the 
 moral character of a Barbary coast bar-keeper. Wax- 
 ing warm in t'-eir dispute, and unable to injure each 
 other with vords, they agreed to settle the discussion 
 with knives, which they forthwith secured for that 
 purpose from one of the shops. Retiring to a secluded 
 spot behind one of the new buildings, they engaged in 
 some really cutting arguments, until the alarm was 
 given and they were separated. O'Brien was badly 
 injured. Hanley was gashed somewhat about the 
 face, but not so badly as to be unable to endure 
 
 I 'If I 
 
784 
 
 DUELLING. 
 
 twenty-five lashes, which were administered upon the 
 bare back. It is a pity that judges, senators, editors, 
 and others of that stripe, could not have had 
 some of the same medicine administered to them. 
 
 Two old and respected inhabitants of Mariposa 
 county, old enough to know better, and respected 
 enough to do better, met informally and fought with 
 shotguns in September 1877. David Evans living 
 six miles from Homitos was one, and Moses v. 
 Northrup the other. Seven or eight years before 
 Evans' bam was burned, and he said that Northrup 
 did it ; said so gently at first and then more positively, 
 and kept saying so for seven years, until the latter 
 became tired of hearing it. So one day he called up- 
 on his enemy with a shotgun and told Evans to brjag 
 out his and meet him on equal terms. Evans sxm 
 appeared with his gun and asked, " Are you read - ? ' 
 " Ready," said Northrup, and the two men fireu 
 almost shnultaneously. Evans was killed, while 
 Northrup remained unharmed. Thus the God of 
 battles adjudged Northrup innocent of having fire<l 
 Evans' barn. A plain, practical, common-senso 
 solution of a question which never otherwise might 
 have been solved. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 TALES OP THE TIMES. 
 
 How indestmctively the Good grows, and propagates itself, even among 
 the weedy entanglements of Evil. 
 
 — Sartor Resartus. 
 
 « 
 
 Op tales of the times I have enough at hand to 
 fill volumes. I can only give brief specimens. No- 
 where in the world's business did fortune ever turn 
 her wheel more tauntingly ; dealing right and left 
 sudden and unfamiliar changes, her ways being out- 
 side of ordinary experiences, so that the shrewdest 
 heads were little better than those supporting ass-ears 
 for interpreting the future. A hundred instances 
 might be cited ; in fact every man of those days was 
 the hero of an unwritten romance. Bootblack and 
 banker alike might give each his remarkable histor}', 
 only the former would perhaps far exceed the latter 
 in incident and vivid interest. What a thousand and 
 one tales they would have made, could some seer have 
 reid and repeated them, the Ufe's doings and changes 
 o^ all those varied characters in the gulches and in 
 the towns ; clerks, cooks, merchants, mechanics, gam- 
 biers, preachers, doctors, and the rest I 
 
 With the great emigration to Oregon in 1846 came 
 Simeon Pettigrove, distantly related, I cannot now 
 exactly say how, to that Pettigrove who once owmd 
 the ground that Portland stands on, and who should 
 have been one of the richest and most influential men 
 of that rich and hospitable city, instead of chinking 
 glasses during his latter days with Van Bokkelen and 
 Sv/an in the hotel at Port Townsend. 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 60 
 
 (78B> 
 
;86 
 
 TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 Of the same wagon-train with young Pettigrove in 
 crossing the continent was Mary Wilder, a brawny 
 maid of eighteen, who walked beside her father's oxen 
 with a long whip, having a sharp gad at the thick end 
 to prod them on through the powdered alkaline plains, 
 and all the long way of that wearisome journey, tak- 
 ing entire charge of the team while her father helped 
 a neighbor with his live stock. Pleasing was she to 
 lot)k upon, although her face was saffroned by the sun 
 and dust, and her clothes bcgreased and tattered, and 
 her feet broad and bare, for her head and hair were 
 beautiful, and when iii the vein the light and warmth 
 of : countenance might kindle tlie campfire. Heart 
 anci gs were stout, and her hands well formed — fcr 
 yoking cattle; and woe betide the bullock that pulled 
 too much to riglit or left, or pressed its neck too 
 lightly against the yoke. All the Wilders' wealth 
 was in that wagon, where sat the mother 'midst the 
 younger children — all theirwealth except the daughter 
 Mary, a precious property, who must make a good 
 match, and help to raise the family respectability. 
 
 Along by the willows, through the sagebrush, over 
 the sandy desert, and over the rugged mountains, 
 Simeon walked with her, talking with her much, and 
 loving her more. He a. l;ed the father mi'dit he 
 marry her. No. She had nothing; she must marry 
 something, and Simeon had no more than s]:e. 
 
 He went his way, and came again, and went and 
 came as did the winter and the summer "How 
 much must he have who marries Mary ? " 'At the 
 least, a thousand dollars." Simeon was in dcsi)air. 
 As wages then were in Oregon, he could not lay by 
 that amount in five years. Tlie mines of California 
 now began to be talked about, and an expedition was 
 organized to go and dig for gold. Here was his op- 
 portunity, and Pettygrove was among the first to join. 
 And as he wound by the base oi Shasta butte down 
 into the valley he took a solcnni oath never to return 
 without the money which should buy Mary. 
 
MARY'S LOVER. 
 
 787 
 
 Oil Feather river he bcfjan to diix. How his heart 
 beat, how his soul gloated over the first half ounce 
 secured; how beautiful it was to gaze at, how sweet, 
 how lovely, how pure 1 But not more pure or lovely 
 or sweet or beautiful than Mary, who was awaiting 
 him away back in Oregon. As his pile increased, his 
 darling yellow pile which was to secure the loved ob- 
 ject, he could not contain himself for joy. His com- 
 rades soon learned his heart's ambition, and once the 
 ice was broken he was forever talking of it. Soon it 
 was the standing joke of the camp. " Pet, how's your 
 gal ?" the boys used to ask when they wished to know 
 of the A-\'^'s success. " It's all right, boys. I'll get 
 her, sure,'" was the customary reply. When fifty 
 ounces were safely bagged — "She's mine, boys, slic's 
 mine," he used to say, or rather, sing; for his heart 
 was singing, and the voice would echo it whether he 
 would or no. 
 
 A hundred ounces, "Well, boys, I've got what I 
 came for; I reckon I better go back and marry Mary 
 now." Rather tamely this was said as compared with 
 the late wild overflow of feeling. The fact is, his 
 claim was paying well, and fascinated with gold-gath- 
 ering, Simeon did not much like to leave it. Easily 
 persuaded was he to remain and work a little longer. 
 
 After this the yield began rapidly to increase, until 
 Simeon had secured five thousand dollars. With 
 store clothes he put on a thoughtful and subdued de- 
 meanor, hired men to take his place in the ditcli, and 
 was soon worth ten thousand dollars, then twenty 
 thousand. Little was said these days regarding 
 Mary Finally he was asked, "Pet, how about that 
 Oregon gal?' Simeon hung his head a little as he 
 said, " Well, the fact is, boys, her folks are mighty 
 connnon, and couldn't give her nmch of a bringing up, 
 and while she's good enough for a thousand dollars, I 
 think I can afford a better one now." 
 
 One may be moderately shrewd with comparative 
 
788 
 
 TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 safety, but to exhibit talents for circumvention and 
 overreaching of too pronounced a character is dan- 
 gerous. 
 
 Early in the fifties there arrived at Rough and 
 Ready one day a double-edged native of Cape Cod. 
 The next morning he spent in watching and quizzing 
 the miners who were at work. While thus engaged, 
 he encountered the owner of a claim who had sunk a 
 shaft between two very rich claims, and was now 
 within a few inches of an expected strike. The owner 
 of the shaft having business elsewhere wished to sell, 
 and thought perhaps a better price might be obtained 
 before uncovering the precious deposit than afterward. 
 In any event he was willing to gamble on it a little. 
 
 " Three thousand dollars was taken out o' that thar 
 hole," said the shaft-sinker, "and nigh on to two thou- 
 sand out o' this yer 'n, and there's no reason why 
 mine ain't as good as them." 
 
 Dinner time came round, and the diggers on the 
 way to their cabins stopped to talk about it, and at 
 length quite a crowd collected about the place. One 
 offered $100 for the claim, another $200, another 
 $250, but the owner peremptorily declined them all. 
 Finrlly the man from Cape Cod opened his mouth, 
 and in a shrill voice pitched at F sharp spoke. 
 
 "Look a-here, stranger," said he, "you don't know 
 me, and I don't know you, but if you believe what 
 you say I'll make you an offer you can't refuse." 
 
 " How is that ? " said the shaft-owner, while all 
 eyes were directed toward the sharpened visage of 
 the newly arrived. 
 
 " Well, I'll work your hole for you on these condi- 
 tions. If more than $200 are taken out, you shall 
 have the whole of it; if less than $200 it shall all 
 belong to me." 
 
 The owner pondered a moment. "Surely," he 
 thought, "there is more than $200 there. This fellow 
 fresh from Cape Cod is a fool. Well, it will do him 
 no harm to purchase of me a little experience at the 
 
 bei 
 
A YANKEE TRICK. 
 
 789 
 
 price of three or four weeks' labor." Turning to the 
 Yankee he said: "Let a friend of mine work with 
 5"ou, you giving him eight dollars a day should you 
 take out less than $200, and put it all in writing and 
 I'll do it." 
 
 "All right, stranger," replied the Yankee, and in a 
 few minutes the thing was done. 
 
 The purchaser immediately went to work, and by 
 noon next day had taken out $180. Then he paused; 
 he considered ; he looked at his little pile, then quietly 
 laying down his pick he went to the owner of the 
 claim. 
 
 " I guess I'll stop now," he remarked meekly. 
 'Stop," said the other, "why you've only just 
 begun 1 " 
 
 "I know," replied the Yankee, "but I think I had 
 better knock off now, so there is your claim whenever 
 you want it. I have paid your friend eight dollars 
 for one day's work, for I always do as I agree and 
 pay my debts, I don't ask any odds of anybody. My 
 father is a deacon, and we all keep Saturday night. 
 I was brought up never to tell a lie, nor to let any 
 one get the start of me swapping jack-knives; 
 stranger, there's your claim." 
 
 In vain the shaft-owner insisted that the Yankee 
 should work out the claim thoroughly, and finally 
 brought suit to compel him to do so. The terms of 
 the contract were plain, and it was decided tliat the 
 Yankee had the right to stop working wheneve-r he 
 pleased. It was a very fair return for the first day's 
 work, but the deacon's son was obliged to continue 
 his perigrinations, as the diggers of Rough and 
 Ready felt hardly at home in company with a genius 
 so superior to themselves. 
 
 A reckless youth of twenty-two, named Prudon, 
 whose home was in Louisiana, being put financially 
 upon short allowance by his father for having lost 
 money betting on Clay's election — a game the boy 
 
f^ 
 
 TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 did not understana, as the father said — set out for 
 CaHfoniia overland and after trying his fortune unsuc- 
 cessfully at Placerville, then Hangtown, he continued 
 his journey and arrived at Sacramento in the midst 
 of the cholera season of the autunm of 1850. The 
 streets, swarming with teams loaded and loading, 
 presented to one just from tlie lonely dusty plain a 
 stirring scene, and the hotels, taverns, and gambling 
 saloons were so much to his liking that he concluded 
 to settle there. 
 
 He had been educated by his fatlier for the presi- 
 dency of the United States, and as he had understood 
 that it was necessary to undergo certain routine before 
 seatinjj: himself in the White House, he determined 
 now to adopt the profession of politics, whereupon he 
 ratified his determination by taking a drink. Selling 
 tlie poor mule that had carried him from the Missis- 
 sippi river, the proceeds of which constituted his entire 
 capital, he chose a hotel on a par with his pretensions, 
 and after a substantial luncheon he bethought him of 
 letters from home, and started for the postofhce. 
 
 The steamer had lately arrived, and at the window 
 was a line of one hundred and fifty or two hundred 
 men, at the foot of which he was obliged to take his place 
 and wait his turn. It was a tedious process, standing 
 and stepping at long intervals, as one after another 
 was served. The sun poured down hot, and tlie 
 young scapegrace, feverish and thirsty from his 
 fatiguing journey, hailed a passing watermelon cart, 
 and bought and ate, and bought another and another. 
 Thus in due time he reached the window but found 
 no letters. 
 
 To console himself for the loss of so much time and 
 the attending disappointment, he treated himself to a 
 glass of brandy and water, and as it pleased him he 
 took another. This caused him to feel so well that 
 he concluded to take several more so that he might 
 feel better ; in fact he would feel his best. 
 
 Brandy iu doses sufficiently strong and frequent, 
 
WATERMELON AND BRANDY. 
 
 Wi 
 
 taken directly after watermelon, when the system is 
 somewhat reduced by travel, and the still, incandcHcent 
 air is epidemic with disease, often makes one feel like 
 retiring; so our young Louisianian ought his bed, 
 and soon was sleeping heavily. Strange to say, about 
 three o'clock he awoke with violent pains and called 
 for a physician. The doctor came and dosed him. 
 He was comfortless; no more brandy and watermelon 
 now. He kept up, though he knew the cholera had 
 clutched him. It seemed to him the streets were full 
 of hearses, and once he caught a driver closely eyeing 
 him as if casting in his mind about how long it would 
 be before his services would be required. 
 
 Day after day he grew weaker, and finally was con- 
 fined to his room. The landlord gave him up, and 
 disliking him to die in his house lest it should frighten 
 away his guests, he reconmiended him to the hospital. 
 A long, low, adobe building at the fort, a little dis- 
 tance out, was used for that purpose. Our young 
 friend was not much pleased at the thought, but he 
 was now so weak that he could not offer nmch oppo- 
 sition. The hospital wagon was ordered round, and 
 the sick man was carried out on a mattress. AnotluT 
 invalid was called for and taken in, who was yet more 
 ill ; at all events he groaned fearfully all the way out. 
 
 The ride and the fresh air seemed to revive Prudon, 
 and when he reached the hospital he was able to stand 
 alone, and while they were carrying in his fellow-pas- 
 senger, he seated hhnself in a chair that stood under 
 the verandah which ran round the building. Just 
 then a small, pleasant-looking man in a green cap and 
 tassel made his appearance at the door. 
 
 " I say, stranger," ventured Pruuon, "can I have a 
 glass of water?" 
 
 "Why, are you a patient ? ' asked the little man. 
 
 "I should say I was," replied Prudon, "I came 
 her6 in that wagon." 
 
 Much to the joy of Prudon, who was very thirsty, 
 the little man disappeared within the door with alac- 
 
792 
 
 TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 ritv. He soon returned, but instead of water he held 
 a book in his hand, and approaching the invalid he 
 opened it and drew from his pocket a pencil. 
 
 ** What is your nanle '( " 
 
 " Prudon.'*^ 
 
 " Give it to me in full if you please ; and have you 
 any friends here, and where is your home ? " 
 
 " Answer me one question first," replied the patient, 
 now growing weak and irritable, " why are you so 
 particular about all that ? ' 
 
 " So that, in case you die, vou know, I may be able 
 to write home for you." 
 
 Piudon began to feel that he was indeed booked 
 for the next world, and looked at the small door cut 
 through the thick adobe as the opening to his grave. 
 He now asked to be taken in, for he was getting weak 
 again, and was almost choked with thirst. The little 
 man called two attendants, who took him up, and en- 
 tering the door laid him on a bed. The room was 
 about seventy feet in length by thirty in width, and 
 contained nearly one hundred invalids in every stage 
 of the disease. They were stretched on cots ranged 
 in rows across the room. Some were groaning and 
 some were cursing, but most of them lay quite still. 
 They were cared for as well as might be at such a 
 time and in such a place, but it was pitiful to see them 
 lying there alone, and dying alone, and at such a fear- 
 ful rate. For every morning when the attendant 
 went round he was sure to find three or four of them 
 cold and stiff, having died without a word, and appa- 
 rently without a struggle. Of such the attendants 
 merely straightened the limbs and covered the head 
 with the blanket ; then taking up the cot, they carried 
 it out at the back door, put the bodies in a rough 
 board coffin, and stacked them up to be carted away. 
 Truly, never went men so far to find a death so sad. 
 
 Our Louisiana friend did not like this night dying, 
 and so he took care to waken early in the morning, 
 that he might not be carried out and boxed up asleep. 
 
A CONVERTED SINNER. 
 
 703 
 
 A <fn(fd doctor helped him through, however, and in 
 time ho was convalescent. Then with return in*; ap- 
 petite, how he thought of home, and longed for some- 
 thing from his mother's table I 
 
 Discharged at last, he walked, or rather, crawled, 
 one morning into the city, ragged, dirty, and without 
 a dollar in money. After walking about some time, 
 weak and fainting, he seated himself upon a step. 
 Matters were getting serious with him. Ho was not 
 yet fit for work, although he was well enough to leave 
 the hospital ; but to earn or make or get his dinner 
 and a place to sleep, he had not the remotest idea how 
 or where. Fortune now smiled on him in a way he 
 least expected. Seated thus, ho saw crossing the 
 street one he should know. Could it be possible, 
 Caleb Anderson, his old friend and college mate? 
 "Cabel" he shouted. The man turned and looked at 
 him, looked earnestly. He saw it all. Dress, feature, 
 attitude — what volumes were written tliere to the 
 friend who could read them I Approaching his old 
 comrade, he lifted him up, and drawing his arm within 
 his own he led him away, speaking scarcely a word. 
 The meeting of friends, often under circumstances the 
 most peculiar, each of whom had come to California 
 unknown to the other, if told upon the pages of fiction 
 would be pronounced improbable. Prudon's troubles 
 were over, and he was soon in a position to help 
 others, as he had been helped. 
 
 A godless gold-digger strolled into a new methodist 
 church at Forest City one Sunday, and after gazing 
 listlessly about for some time, his attention was at 
 length arrested by the story which the mitiister told 
 of a miner who had miraculously escaped death on 
 falling into a shaft while in a state ni i itoxication. 
 So impressed was this man by a sense ot the danger 
 he had escaped that he immediately sought religion 
 and found it. 
 
 "After sitting one hour on the repcntant's seat," 
 
m 
 
 TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 said the preacher, "God forgave liiin his sins «»nd 
 thenceforth he was a new man." 
 
 Now it happened that the hsteuer hhnself liad like- 
 wise one night not long since become beastly drunk, 
 stumbled into an old uncovered shaft on his way 
 home, and escaped unliarnied. The force of example 
 fell upon him. He became uneasy, twisted himself in 
 his seat, and finally rising up called out to the 
 speaker, "Is that a fact?" "It is certainly true," 
 replied the preacher. Turning to the one seated 
 nearest him, he exclaimed, " My case exactly ; I fell 
 into a hole, came out all right ; religion must be a 
 good thing ; by God I'll try it on too 1 " Therewith 
 he marched forward and took his seat under the more 
 immediate droppings of the sanctuary. 
 
 Among the miners at Carson creek, near the 
 Stanislaus river, was an old man who had been there 
 some months — it was generally believed that lie had 
 been successful — no one knew what he did with his 
 gold, for he was a man of economical liabits, and free 
 from the vice of gambling. People ' oved that he 
 buried his gold. One day the old threw the 
 
 whole camp into excitement by frantically rushing 
 about and declaring that he had been robbed of his 
 gold. He was rather liked and most of the miners 
 sympathized with him, and oflered to assist him in 
 finding the gold, and in catching and punishing 
 the robber. 
 
 After numerous inquiries of the old man, it was as- 
 certained that he had been in the habit of burying his 
 treasures in different places ; and that the amount of 
 which he had been robbed was concealed in a leathern 
 bag at the foot of a certain tree — which particular 
 bag was filled with lump gold, specimens, etc. He 
 took several persons to the spot and showed them the 
 hole cornered by a flat stone. 
 
 Upon examining the place carefully, a large go- 
 pher's hole was discovered in the side of the cavity in 
 
GOPHER STORIES. 
 
 wliich the bag had been dcpoHitod. One of the party 
 suggested to seart'h the goplier's hole. A shovel was 
 brought and the side drift carefully followed. After 
 tracing it about ten or twelve feet, there was found a 
 little ante-room or chamber of about six inches deep, 
 made in the side of the main road or hole, with a 
 neatly paved floor of lumps of gold, and in the rear of 
 this extravagantly furnished apartment was found a 
 portion of the old man's leathern bag. 
 
 The den of the robbers had evidently been found, 
 but only a small portion of the gold — where was the 
 rest? Following the trail of the robber a little far- 
 ther, they came upon a succession of apartn)ents or 
 niches, and found each one as regularly and beautifully 
 paved with gold as if done by tlie hand of man, while 
 in each was found a small portion of the leathen bag, 
 as if used as a lounge or mattress. Not a single [)ar- 
 ticle of gold was found along the line of the main 
 road ; all had been carefully carried into and deposited 
 in the side rooms. Tin; whole amount was weighed, 
 and found to be exactly equal to the gold the old man 
 had buried in the bag. The gopher succeeded in escap- 
 ing unharmed. Such is the gopher story of the 
 Stanislaus. 
 
 We have another gopher story. "Last Monday our 
 usually quiet burgli was awakened by the intelligence 
 that new diggings had been discovered within a few 
 hundred yards of the town, paying twelve dollars to 
 the pan. Hundreds inunediately flocked with picks 
 and spades to the place, and in a short time had 
 staked oft' the whole hillside. They worked very 
 diligently until evening, when the discoverers,let some 
 of their friends into tlie secret. They had buried bags 
 of gold dust there last spring, and in digging for it 
 found that the gophers had eaten the buckskin bags, 
 obliging them to wash the surrounding earth. Ten 
 minutes after this announcement there was not a 
 miner or tool to be seen about the new diggings." 
 
796 
 
 TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 Italian straw hat? were m favor at one time to the 
 disgust of a Panamd hat dealer who vainlv souijht to 
 get rid of his high-priced wares. One day he bethought 
 himself to buy five dozen hats from the Italian rival, 
 and donate them to the chain-gang working in the 
 street. When the straw-hat wearers saw these men 
 decked therein, they at once discarded theirs and 
 patronized the dealer. 
 
 Swan tells the following story of a tall Irishman 
 named Frank, whom he knew at the mines in '48. 
 Frank found a great deal of gold, but threw it away 
 on drink. He used to go on a spree for two or three 
 days at a time. One day he was drinking at a liquor 
 tent, and had his buckskin bag open in his hand, A 
 looker-on told him to be more careful or he would lose 
 his gold ; whereupon he seized the bag by the bottom 
 and scattered it all around on the ground outside the 
 tent, saying he could get plenty more. He had 
 three pounds in the bag at the time, and it was nearly 
 all lost. Some time after that Frank made $7,000 
 at the Middle fork, which lasted him just six weeks. 
 
 In the summer of 1850 five dollars was not an un- 
 usual price to be paid for a watermelon in the mines. 
 Joshua Griffith, an old pioneer, planted six acres in the 
 spring of 1851 on the Merced, and confidently ex- 
 pected to realize a handsome sum from them when 
 ripa. Sometime previous to this he had purchased a 
 thousand straw hats which he still had on hand, their 
 sale being dull and when the young watermelon 
 plants came up, to protect them from the frosts, he 
 determined to utilize the hats, and at night each vine 
 would be carefully covered ; and in the morning when 
 the sun would commence to pour his warm beams on 
 the earth the vines would be uncovered. Everything 
 was auspicious, until one morning Griffith went as 
 usual to uncover the vmes, when not a hat, vine, nor 
 any of the soil that had been turned up by the 
 
CLEBOYMEN. 
 
 7d7 
 
 plough, was to be seen. All had been swept away 
 by the rivjjr which had risen during the night, while 
 poor Griffith, in a dream, was selling luscious water- 
 melons at three dollars apiece. 
 
 California has always offered peculiar attractions 
 to clergymen. The opportunities for doing good were 
 great during the flush times, and many availed 
 themselves of them. As a rule the most talented 
 preachers at the east were glad to come to California 
 upon a good call with a fair salary. Their congrega- 
 tions here were so fresh, so full of the fire and entliu- 
 siasm of 3'oung manhood, so keenly appreciative, that 
 it was a pleasure to labor among them. 
 
 Ministers were obliged to work harder here than 
 in more settled comnmnities, but few cared for that. 
 Everybody worked harder. There was much to do, 
 and the emissaries of Satan were no less active than 
 were the servants of God. They had their old ser- 
 mons to fall back upon, which was a great help, par- 
 ticularly to those somewhat advanced in years. Very 
 old clergymen California did not care for. 
 
 It only shows with what thin pabulum those who 
 sit in pews are satisfied when they expect a man of 
 ordinary ability to write two sermons a week, to make 
 frequent parochial visits, indulge in society gossip, 
 attend marriages and nativities, and offer the consola- 
 tions of religion to the dying. 
 
 This is right enough when one has the fathomless 
 well of genius, like Beechcr, to draw from, but it will 
 not do for those who are obliged to elaborate tlieir 
 slow stale thoughts, as most men are, in the clt)set. 
 One sermon fit to preach before a really intelligent 
 audience requires the diligent thought and study of 
 an ordinary intellect for at least a fortnight. 
 
 It were infinitely better for the average clergyman 
 to read printed sermons than to preach the trash ho 
 does. How few discourses have any thing new or 
 really instructive in them ! The same ideas, hashed 
 
TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 from time immemorial in the same words, become un- 
 interesting after a while to the really hungry. The 
 mind alive to the swift whirl of progress wants some- 
 thing besides ancient and oft-repeated stories and 
 traditions. The moment one begins to think, seats in 
 churches grow hard. 
 
 We have had many good men in California as spir- 
 itual teachers, many saintly men, many true patriots, 
 many of marked talents. No man exercised greater 
 or more beneficial influence durincj a crisis which was 
 to determine the destinies of the state than Thomas 
 Star King, who spared neither voice nor pen to save 
 the republic from dissension. In Doctor Scott the 
 Californians of early days saw her Saint Paul, and 
 the divine Saint John was not more heavenlv-niinded 
 than Doctor Wadsworth, overflowing as he was with 
 pure though peculiar genius. 
 
 But among the many good men of the ministerial 
 class, as among others, there were some bad men. Of 
 tliese, few knew of their badness themselves when 
 they left their homes. Throughout their lives ser- 
 mon had followed Sunday school, and college, cate- 
 chism, and they really regarded themselves as saintly. 
 No one was more surprised than they, after they had 
 been in the mines a short tune to catch themselves 
 drinking at a bar, betting at monte, or frequenthig a 
 house of ill-fame. 
 
 Of all plants, probably a youtliful clergjmian in a 
 stormy climate is the most tender. Educated into tlie 
 belief that belief is everything, while actually not 
 knowhig what belief is; taught to think himself by 
 reason of his profession alone whiter than others in 
 his purity, stronger in his strength, when bereft of 
 these stays he often falls deej)er than any. 
 
 It was so in flush California. Hundreds of those 
 who came hither fell, fell very low, lower than some 
 who professed less. Many took on the Hverv of 
 Satan before they touched the shore — in New York, 
 on the steamer, or at the Isthmus ; so that when they 
 
CLERGYMEN. 
 
 799 
 
 arrived in California they never made it known that 
 they had ever been clergymen. Some entered a 
 course of systematic swindling which lasted for years, 
 during the whole of which they never ceased to 
 parade their cloth. They were ministers of the Lord, 
 incapable of iniquity, and so their blackest sins they 
 covered with robes of white. 
 
 Finding preaching in the interior unpopular and un- 
 profitable, some became miners; but as a rule they 
 did not take kindly to work. Their theology had in- 
 structed them that although the Lord might pay his 
 servants poorly, yet he did usually pay them scjuie- 
 thing ; and that lucre alone was In their estimation 
 sanctified which came without labor. They were the 
 Lord's, as indeed was the country, the golil, the corn, 
 and the wine, and the cattle on a thousand hills. 
 Their instructors had told them that three years' read- 
 ing theology had made them different from other men; 
 that God loved them better for it, and would do more 
 for them than for those who had been all this time 
 digging potatoes, or doing something useful. It is 
 the most pernicious and ruinous doctrine in the world. 
 
 Yes, thev were different from other men, ditt'erent 
 by reason alone of their holy teachings, their holy 
 professions and protestations ; so different, that the 
 business man would immediately suppoct one who 
 slumld utter the name of Christ in connection with a 
 moneyed transaction. 
 
 Some, on reaching California, sunk their reverend 
 titles and turned gamblers. Here they saw at once 
 that the parade of their profession would not pay, that 
 piety and prayers in a game of poker woultl be suspi- 
 cious of aces and kings tucked away in sleeves or other 
 stiintly receptacles. So scores went down into" the 
 depths, and never after saw the light ; often changing 
 their names so that their friends should never again 
 hear of them. 
 
 But by far the greater number refused to throw 
 away the holy appellations which had cost tluur pa- 
 
TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 rents and themselves so much to acquire. The masses 
 in California, except in money matters, were soft in 
 heart and conscience toward old family-altar and Sun- 
 day-school memories, and the colors of the childish 
 superstitions concerning clergymen had not yet been 
 wholly eradicated by the toils and tumults of Califor- 
 nia. Quack medicine was a little more efficacious 
 coming from holy hands. It was not quite so unpal- 
 atable being cheated by a soft, smooth-tongued, glow- 
 ing gospeler, as by a Jim Stuart or a John Jenkins. 
 This the pious pilgrims soon ascertained; and so many 
 turned clerical tramps, going from place to place, 
 preaching cheap nonsense here and there to stupid 
 prayer-lovers, picking up such nuggets and knowl- 
 edge as they could lay their hands on, paying 
 for their breakfast with a hymn of praise, and on the 
 whole satisfied with their three years' reading of stale 
 theology and the Lord's care of them therefor. 
 
 A favorite plan was to turn insurance agent, or 
 take a sewing-machine or patent medicine, and beg 
 
 f)eople for Christ's sake to buy of them, and for the 
 ove of Christ many would so buy. So easily are 
 men duped on the side of their prejudices. In this 
 way, during a long business career, from the most hal- 
 lowed opinions of the cloth which had been instilled 
 in their minds since infancy, good, honest-minded men 
 came to regard them as they were. But it was slowly, 
 and at the cost of numerous losses, that the eyes were 
 opened. Then people saw the country full of canting, 
 hypocritical humbug, which, in the name of religion, 
 preyed upon the poor and credulous. As insurance 
 agents they became very expert, quickly learning 
 whenever they encountered a man how much of sal- 
 vation or danmation to mix with their wares, or 
 whether to dish up for their customer piety or profanity. 
 Twenty broad examples might be cited of their ras- 
 cality, which happened under the direct observation 
 of the community, but one will here suffice, as it is 
 not a very delightful theme. 
 
AN OILY CUSTOMER. 
 
 801 
 
 An insurance office on California street in San 
 Francisco, was for many years under the efficient 
 and zealous management of Mr C. T. Smith. His 
 opinion of the honesty of clerical insurance agents 
 >vas bad enough, but they were among his most suc- 
 cessful men, and he was obliged to employ them, and, 
 as far as he could do so with safety, to accommodate 
 them. 
 
 One Saturday afternoon, the banks being closed, 
 Smith brought to the cashier of liis company a cler- 
 gyman, one of his best agents, long and favorably 
 known to him, with a request for the loan of $160 for 
 half an hour. 
 
 The cashier had filled his phace ft)r many years, and 
 ever proved the faithful guardian and vigilant Cerbe- 
 rus of the company's strong-box. Moreover, he was 
 gentlemanly and accommodating. There was no one 
 on California street who would go farther to do a 
 favor tha!i he, but a battalion could not force him to 
 break a rule of the company, or take any liberty with 
 the funds entrusted to him. 
 
 In this instance he hesitated. There stood an agent 
 of the company, a good man, a clergyman, whose re- 
 quest was urged by the mana[>er of the department 
 with which he transacted his business. The head of 
 the establishment was not present at the time, and 
 thus the whole of the responsibility was thrown on 
 the cashier. He did not like either to refuse or to 
 acquiesce. 
 
 *' Accommodate him if you can," said Smith. 
 
 "One hundred and sixty dollars," muttered the 
 cashier, as his hand slowly sought the knob of the 
 safe, "and for only half an hour; Saturday afternoon, 
 has money in the bank, can't get it— hum, ahem I" 
 
 "I will certainly return it you within the half hour," 
 said the clergyman in sepulchral tones, smiling blandly. 
 
 "It seems to me a little strange," replied the cashier, 
 "that having been in town all day, and knowing that 
 you would require this money this afternoon when the 
 
 Cal, Int. Poc. U 
 
802 
 
 TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 banks were closed, you did not draw it before. Be- 
 sides, what can you want with the money for only 
 half an hour?" 
 
 "Sir, do you know who I am?" demanded the 
 minister. 
 
 "Yes, I know very well who you are," replied the 
 cashier, " and all I can say is that 1 have no authority 
 to loan you this money." 
 
 " Let him have it and charge it to me," exclaimed 
 Smith, somewhat impatiently, thinking the cashier 
 too particular. 
 
 The cashier gave the minister the money and made 
 a ticket of it to Smith. The borrower hurried away. 
 When he had gone the cashier turned to Smith, who 
 had not yet left the place. 
 
 "Mark my word," said he, "that money goes upon 
 the tiger." 
 
 " But he is a clergyman, and one of our best 
 agents," returned Smith. 
 
 " I don't care," said Tom, "clergyman or no clergy- 
 man, while we are talkhig your money is on the 
 gambler's green cloth, and not a stiver of it will you 
 ever see again. Mind you, for only half an hour. 
 Besides being a rascal the man is a fool. Anybody 
 but a preacher would have made a better story than 
 that." 
 
 Smith grew uneasy. He was of a nervous sanguine 
 temperament, not easily excited in his suspicions, 
 being the soul of integrity himself; but once aroused 
 nothing stayed him. There appeared to him now 
 much truth in what the cashier said ; indeed there 
 was no other way of accounting for the reverend 
 borrower's behavior. Smith fidgeted, walked from 
 the desk a short distance and hastily returned, swore 
 a few gentle oaths, and finally s<,lzed his hat and 
 started off at a brisk pace turning up Kearny street. 
 
 Almost to the plaza he walked, then back to Cali- 
 fornia street, where turning he repeated his steps first 
 taken. He had not proceeded far on this second tack 
 
SMITH GOES FOR THE CLEROYMAN. 
 
 803 
 
 when he saw his friend coming toward him with bended 
 head and a slouched hat drawn well oves his eyes. 
 His whole appearance betokened the ruined gamester, 
 and that such he was there could be no longer any 
 doubt. 
 
 Smith went for the man of God. 
 
 " Where is my money ? " he demanded, waking the 
 clergyman to a realizing sense of things by a tre- 
 mendous slap upon the back. 
 
 " I left it with a friend." 
 
 "Where is my money?" roared Smith, seizing the 
 reverend collar and shakmg the rising lie from the 
 reverend lips. 
 
 " Lost every dollar of it," was the reply. 
 
 " Take me to the place ? " 
 
 "I cannot." 
 
 "You will; quickly, now, if you would avoid a 
 scene." 
 
 Slowly the good man turned and walked about a 
 block, ascended a flight of stairs, passed through an 
 ante-room into a large saloon where stood several 
 tables, and thence into a back parlor, Smith following 
 closely at his heels. In this room behind a table was 
 a large and highly ornamental safe well filled with 
 money. On one side stood a secretary writing, and 
 on the other a big burly short-haired Irish shoulder- 
 striker. Smith saw no danger, but only the safe, 
 and one whom he took for the proprietor, who was in 
 the act of opening the door of his treasure-house, 
 when the former, now pale with passion, walked up to 
 him and exclaimed : 
 
 "I want my money." 
 
 " What name ? " asked the man, as calmly and as 
 politely as if in answer to the most common and 
 reasonable of requests. 
 
 " insurance company," was the reply. 
 
 The gambler looked at Smith and then at the par- 
 son. He took it all in at a glance. With his hand 
 still upon the knob, in the attitude the intruders first 
 
804 
 
 TALES OP THE TIMES. 
 
 found him, he meditated an instant, but only an in- 
 stant, when he opened the door of the safe and 
 c(junted out the money. The gambler saw that he 
 was caught, that Smith could and would make him 
 nmch more trouble than the money would do him 
 good, and that this was by far his best way out of it. 
 Smith took the money and departed, the good man 
 meekly following. 
 
 Even in the interior, Califomians concluded in 1850 
 that there were sufficient conveniences to render life 
 »X)nifortable, while in San Francisco the man with 
 money might indulge in luxuries to any extent, and 
 even board at a hotel having a notice posted "Pota- 
 toes at every meal." True, there were some, who, 
 like the Englishman, seemed to expect as much of a 
 plac!e which had called itself a city but for twelve 
 months as of a metropolis twelve hundred years old. 
 This John Bull, with more belly than brains, and 
 characteristically prolific in left-handed compliments 
 to tliose who showed him attention, was invited by a 
 friend to a public dinner, which, considering the new- 
 ness of things, and the fact that the market was neces- 
 sarily supplied entirely from abroad, was really elegant. 
 The Englishman feasted himself to his heart's con- 
 tent, and rose from the table with happiness shining 
 from every corner of his face. His entertainer, natu- 
 rally proud of the capabilities of so new a countr}, 
 slapped him on the shoulder and exclaimed, " Well, 
 sir, was not that a good dinner? " " Very good, very 
 good," replied the Englishman but then its nothing to 
 what I have eaten in London ! " 
 
 One Sunday immediately after the receipt of the 
 news of Louis Napoleon's doings in the Crimea, a 
 clergyman of Nevada took occasion to refer in riattering 
 terms to the Bonaparte family in general. A volatile 
 Frenchman happened to form one of the congrega- 
 tion. Scarcely had the preacher reached the culmi- 
 
THE FAITHLESS HUSBAND. 
 
 806 
 
 nating point of his encomiums, when up jum|>ed the 
 Gaul, and thrusting his hand deep iii his pocket drew 
 forth a ten-dollar piece, and marching up to the pulpit 
 deposited it upon the desk hi front of the speaker. 
 
 One morning after breakfast a woman sat quietly 
 looking over the paper, when glancnig her eye down 
 the list of passengers to sail by the 'femieasee, April 1, 
 1851, she started as if stung. There, about the middle 
 of a list of two or three hundred, she saw the niiine 
 of her husband. It is true his trunk was packed, 
 but, as he had informed hor, for a short trip into tlit; 
 country. Her first impulse was to create a disturb- 
 ance; but being a sensible woman, on reflection sl.e 
 concladed such a husband was not worth having, and 
 he might go. As he was then absent from the house 
 making preparations for his long voyage, slie unlocked 
 his trunk and examined the contents. Sure enough 
 there was the evidence, in the shape of all his mov- 
 able property, of his intention to abandon her; and 
 among the rest $8,000 in cohi. "At all events," she 
 said to herself, * he shall leave me some means of 
 support." So she took from the amount $.*},()00, a 
 moderate division on her part, locked the trunk and 
 bade her husband farewell, giving no- signs of her 
 knowledge of his intentions. Th'isboth played their 
 little first of April trick, and the wife was not the 
 loser. 
 
 The grizzly bear is the king of Californian beasts, 
 rivalling in courage and stnuigti the royal lion him- 
 self They are bold and cunning and in early days 
 were very ])lentiful. Then the old hunters of Mis- 
 s,)uri ami Kentucky, who had been tempted by the 
 piomise of lucre from the traffic of their love, often 
 turned for a few hours from their digging to chase or 
 be chased by the grizzly. Early one morning in 1849 
 a M issourian, called by his comrades Graygritz, took 
 up his rifle and started out fo/ a buck. He had not 
 
806 
 
 TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 proceeded far before lie came upon a herd feeding, 
 which, scenting liiui before he could get a shot, niaile 
 off' up the hill and along the comb of the ridge. Gray- 
 gritz followed at the top of his speed. Approaching 
 a little thicket, the hunter noticed that the deer sud- 
 denly shied and took a wide circuit round the covered 
 spot, Graygritz paid little attention to it, however, 
 and cut across, passing by the very verge of the 
 thicket. Suddenly a tremendous crash was heard, 
 and out rushed an enonnous grizzly with o|x.'n mouth 
 and angry eye. There was not a moment to lose, the 
 beast was upon him. Instinctively the hunter raised 
 his gun, fired, and missed. There was no time to 
 turn ; the hot breath of tlie hifuriated animal the hun- 
 ter could feel upon his cheek. Swinging the barrel 
 over his head he struck desperately at his assailant, 
 thus clubbing off the terrible foe, until in making a 
 blow the weapon flew from the hunter's hand, leaving 
 him without the slightest means of defence. There 
 was nothing now but to run for it. Darting down 
 the hill, running obliquely so as to take the bear at the 
 greatest disadvantage, the fearful race began. Down 
 the steep hillside rattled the loose stones, and every 
 leap of the bear made the chaparral crash. Again 
 and again the bear was almost upon him, striking at 
 him its ponderous paws with such force as to bring it 
 to its knees. Thus they rushed along until they 
 reached the foot of the hill, when the fugitive became 
 conscious that his strength was gone. He saw before 
 him a horrible death; there was no escape, great 
 drops of agony fell from his forehead ; his limbs tot- 
 tered ; in sheer desperation he turned upon his foe, 
 and boldly facing it, uttered an unearthly yell. The 
 beast stopped amazed, drew back, then turned and fled. 
 
 A Mexican and an Irish woman once went to a 
 clergyman to be married. The bride could not 
 speak the Mexican's language, and the groom could 
 speak no Irish. The clergyman, who was a good 
 
THE FORTY-NINER. 
 
 807 
 
 linguist, tried first to tie the knot in English, but 
 the Mexican lauglied so immoderately and so 
 persistently when called upon to repeat the omin- 
 ous words, that the man of matrimony became angry, 
 closed his book, and left the pair only half united. 
 Bridget rushed after him and begged him, with tears 
 in her eyes to finish the business, assuring him her 
 loved one meant no disrespect. Returning ho admin- 
 istered the oath of allegiance to the Irish in English, 
 and to the Mexican hi Spanish, and the united pair 
 went their happy way. 
 
 Here arc two sketches ; one the forty-niner and the 
 other the fifty-sixer: 
 
 "Burled anumg the recollections of by-gones are 
 the go<jd old times when eight feet square was a claim, 
 and a crowbar, sheath-knife, and pan constituted a full 
 set of mining tools. When working with a rocker 
 was considered rushing business, and holding two 
 claims a mono|x>ly ; when jxjtatoes were an expensive 
 luxury, and flap-jacks passed current for bread ; when 
 men tlisdained to speak of dollars and cents, but reck- 
 oned their small change in ]X)unds and ounces; when 
 the abodes of honest miners were not dignified by the 
 modern terms of houses, towns, and cities, but were 
 known as cabins, camps, and ranches; when Judge 
 Lynch disposed of all desjierate cases in a summary 
 manner, through the simple medium of a jury of 
 nuners; and such things as petty swindling, petty 
 thievhjg, and pettyfoggers were unknown ; when the 
 only sickness in vogue was a headache after a big 
 spree, and the only medicine, the liair of that same 
 dog. Alasl the country is getting civilized, alarm- 
 inolv civilized 1 
 
 " Such are the reflections of an old fortv-nmer, who, 
 having outlived his time, now smokes the pipe of 
 peace and poverty — an honorary member of tlie Can't- 
 get-away club. He has flourished in the season of 
 big strikes, and can, if he chooses, give you a leaf 
 
eo8 
 
 TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 from his experience concerning rich pockets, and turn 
 liis own inside out without spilling anything. Like 
 Wilkius Micawber, he has great hopes of something 
 turning up ; so ho prospects, contenting himself when 
 unsuccessful, as he generally is, with simply cursing 
 his luck, but will see you where the climate is anything 
 but cool before he will work for wages. Thinks hon- 
 est industry is a mighty fine tiling to talk about, but 
 big luck is a fortune, and is the peculiar gift of the 
 Muggins family. Believes that old clothes are an 
 honor to the wearer, but has a lurking suspicion that 
 men with white shirts, tall hats, and black coats are 
 preachers, office-seekers, or monte-sharps. Is fond of 
 white folks and whisky, but hates greasers and Cliina- 
 men; is a firm advocate of lynch law, and thinks the 
 California legislature a humbug, not excepting the 
 doings of our last body of lawgivers. He has many 
 other peculiar notions, which he pretends are fijunded 
 on experience, but being the opinion of an old fogy, 
 are of course behind the times, and extremely liable to 
 be erroneous. Gold mining is his favorite tliei:.c. If 
 you wish to draw him out on that particuU" sn'>if!ct, 
 just say to him that he has been in the country l(^ng 
 enough to have a waijon-load of dust. He will give 
 you a knowing wink and a sagacious shrug, seeming 
 to say, I could a tale unfold, and then proceed to un- 
 fold a remarkably long one." 
 
 Next we have the later comer. 
 
 " That's him, with the stovepipe hat, black pants, 
 satin vest, white shirt, and cravat with two round 
 turns and a square knot 1 See, he carries a car[)et- 
 bag, and bless me 1 if he hasn't got a full-grown um- 
 brella, tool No old inhabitant would ever mistake 
 him for a forty-niner. We know their sort by their 
 backs. Does not his countenance beam with the light 
 of great expectations? Isn't he, even now, cogitating 
 upon some safe plan of investing his dust? — discussing 
 in his own mhid whether he had better trust it to the 
 tender mercies of a banking-house, or bury it in some 
 
THE FIFTY-SIXER. 
 
 800 
 
 secure comer? That emphatic gesture with the um- 
 brella I Ahl he has concluded to bury it — banks are 
 mif|hty uncertain — even banks of earth, but he don't 
 realize tl.at yet. Don't make his acijuaintance till he 
 gets naturalized, and has the wire edge taken ott', un- 
 less you wish to be most essentially bored. Ho is a 
 harp of a thousand strings, and will vex your ear with 
 a multitude of tiresome yarns about his personal ad- 
 ventures on the route, hard fare on the steamers, in- 
 dignation meeting of the steerage passengers, what 
 they resolved to do, what they didn't do, what the 
 captam swore he would do, what the mate said, how 
 an old woman and five children were dreadful sick all 
 the way from New York to Aspinwall, terrible tinje 
 on the Isthmus, Panamti fever, lost his trunk and paid 
 a big nigger five dollars reward for finding it, has no 
 doubt but it was the same identical nijiiier who stole 
 it. Arrival in San Francisco, feller tried to rope him 
 into a game of chuck-a-luck, too smart to be caught, 
 surprised at finding that five-franc pieces pass f<ir a 
 dollar ; how like thunder they charge for meals on the 
 road from Stockton, and so forth. 
 
 " After he has emptied his budget of wonders, he 
 opens his volume of catechisms, and will ask you 
 more foolish questions than it is pleasant to listen to, 
 or profitable to answer — among which you are sure to 
 hear the following : How long does it take a man to 
 make his pile, s'posin* he's industrious ? How far is it 
 to the northern mines? Where is the best plaee for 
 mining in California? How long does the rainy 
 season last? Is it necessary for a man to have an 
 oil-cloth suit? How much will the dirt average from the 
 top down, in Mary Posey county ? — and last, unkind- 
 est cut of all — when will that water company have their 
 ditch completed ? My rule is to stave off his ques- 
 tions, as well as possible, till he comes down to that, 
 which I answer by saying 'next 3'ear,' at the same time." 
 
 In early times Heinrich Hcrz came to San Fran- 
 
810 
 
 TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 CISCO. It was then the place alike for prince, pianist, 
 and porter. The forests of masts sporting the flags 
 of all nations astonished him ; Ukewise the bustle of 
 business and the confusion of tongues that greeted his 
 ears on landing, but his enthusiasm cooled somewhat 
 when on seeking lodgings he was shown a cloth-lined 
 closet of a bedroom at six dollars a day. 
 
 " Never mind," thought he, " is it not something to 
 be the pit)neer pianist in these parts ? " A knock in- 
 terrupted his meditations. 
 
 " Do not enter," cried Herz. Nevertheless, the 
 door opened, and a slight young man with a fair com- 
 plexion, long hair, earnest manner, and German accent 
 stood at the entrance. 
 
 "Is this the celebrated Heinrich Herz," asked 
 the visitor. 
 
 " I am he," replied the pianist, " and if you will 
 come in, you must first permit me to go out, as the 
 room will not hold two." 
 
 " I come, sir, on purpose to take you from it; to 
 beg of you to accept a room in my house." 
 
 " Ah I you are a hotel keeper." 
 
 " No, sir, I am a pianist." 
 
 " Pianist," cried Herz, thunderstruck at finding a 
 brother artist before him in the mingled nmdflats 
 and sandhills of that town of tents and board slian- 
 ties planted on a tongue of land at the very outer 
 verge of the earth's confines. " How long have you 
 been here ? " 
 
 ** A year. When I arrived there were but fourteen 
 huts ; but I found an Italian who had a piano occupy- 
 ing one of them and giving lessons and concerts. One 
 of his pupils, taking exceptions to his method of 
 training, murdered him, and I inherited his piano and 
 his patrons. I have bought me a house and shall be 
 the liappiest of men if Herr Heinrich Herz will accept 
 my hospitality." The invitation was accepted as cor- 
 dially as it was given. The home was perched on 
 stilts under the brow of a steep hill, and the great 
 
HEINBICH HERZ. 
 
 811 
 
 musician, after spending/ one night in the front room 
 which overlooked "the declivity, called to his host: 
 
 "You will think me very whimsical, no doubt, but 
 could you without inconvenience give me a room on 
 the other side of the house. I fancied I heard during 
 the night a settling of sleepers and rattling of rocks. 
 All imagination, doubtless; but if you can, please 
 humor me." 
 
 " Do as you like," said the young householder, 
 " but rest assured this is one of the safest houses in 
 the city." 
 
 Scarcely had they transported the professor's ef- 
 fects to another room than that side of the house foil 
 with a crash. Herz escaped by a miracle ; the young 
 man was in despair. "I would not mind, it he ex- 
 claimed ; " but my piano is gone. It was a poor one 
 it is true, cracked, and of only five octaves; but it 
 answered my purpose ; it was my fortune, and now 
 there it lies smashed, and buried in the rubbish." 
 
 "Never mind," said Herz, "I have two, and you 
 shall have one of those ; so cheer up, and repair your 
 house, while I go and bring them up." 
 
 Passing a restaurant he met a man whom he had 
 known in Paris, talking with two others, not extrava- 
 gantly dressed, but genthsmanly in their appearance. 
 Accosting him, he casually spoke of his errand, and 
 inquired whom he could get to move his pianos. 
 
 "I will do it," said his friend, "and these gentlemen 
 will lielp me." 
 
 "But you are not serious?" said Herz. 
 
 " Never more so. Everybody works in California." 
 The pianos were well and promptly moved. 
 
 "How much is it?" asked Herz of his friend. 
 
 " Three hundred dollars," was the reply. 
 
 "Three — what?" exclaimed the musician. 
 
 "I assure you it is the price," said his friend, in 
 which assertion he was backed by his host, fo that, 
 turning it off with a laugh, Heiz paid it, and instantly 
 sat down to reckon how many tickets to his concert, 
 
Bid 
 
 TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 at three dollars each, he would have to sell to pay 
 expenses. 
 
 The following is but one of innumerable like mat- 
 rimonial adventures: A young man of twenty-fivo 
 arrived in California from one of the southern states 
 in 1849, and settled in Marysville. By the exercise 
 of industry and economy, in 1855 he found himself in 
 possession of money and property to the amount of 
 sixty or eighty thousand dollars. But tlie poor fel- 
 low was wifeless, and hence lonely and dissatisfied. 
 His m<mey did not bring him happiness ; his life was 
 passing away, and he making no mark. His existence 
 was incomplete, hollow, comfortless. He must have 
 a wife, and as women in his vicinity were few and 
 scarcely to his liking, he set out for the bay city with 
 matrimonial Intent. There he found one whom he 
 concluded to try at a venture, but she would none of 
 him. And so it was with all ; those w ho would marry 
 him, he would not marry; those whom he would 
 marry would not marry him. Giving it up he returned 
 home, a disappointed man. 
 
 One day, m)t long after his return, he happened to 
 meet a friend, a young married woman, at a moment 
 when he was in a confiding humor. Ho told her the 
 tale of his eore heart, of his attempt and failure, and 
 her sympathies were immediately enlisted. Where is 
 the woman whose blood does not warm in such a 
 cause? The young man was worthy and wealthy. 
 During the convui'sation his fair friend happened to 
 think of a sister she had left in New Jersey, two years 
 younger, and the counterpart of herself; perhaps she 
 might be induced to come to California and fill the 
 void in this man's affections. She hinted as much to 
 her companion, who eagerly made a direct offer. He 
 agreed to pay all the young woman's expenses out, 
 and to marry her on her arrival. On behalf of her 
 sister, his friend accepted the proposal, forwarded the 
 young man's money to his intended bride, who on re- 
 
SHARP PRACTICE. 
 
 813 
 
 ceipt of it came immediately to California and was 
 married. This true tale, with variations, might apply 
 to thousands of marriages during the fast flush times. 
 
 In the town of Marysville, in 1853, there lived a 
 man of virtues invisible, but of faults palpable and too 
 apparent. His reputation for honesty, like his form, 
 was lean and angular. He would steal so skillfully, 
 holding in his hands the spoils and peering meanwhile 
 at his victim through the meshes of the law with such 
 consummate cunning that one could do no less than 
 beat him now and then. But such chastisements 
 seemed rather to refresh him than otherwise. He 
 felt all the while that he deserved so much worse at 
 the hands of his fellows than they could give him, that 
 even in his punishments he enjoyed the inestimable 
 privilege of cheating them. 
 
 Fortune smiled on skill and industry, and under 
 real estate manipulations, shaving short paper by 
 turning it down one half, and loaning money on good 
 security at ten per cent a month, and managing so as 
 to get all his interest, a portion of his principal, and 
 then cheating the lender out of the collateral pledged, 
 his capital grew rapidl}'. 
 
 But happily for humanity the inevitable laws of 
 traffic preclude the possibility of the eternal success 
 of villahiy ; otherwise our Napoleon of finance would, 
 ere this, have been the happy owner of all Marysville. 
 Up to this time he had reigned rascal supreme, but 
 now waves of trouble rolled over him, and a horrible 
 incubus settled upon his affairs in the form of two 
 lately-arrived lawyers, keen wiry fellows, hungrier 
 and sharper than himself 
 
 These two briefless sharks rented an office of our 
 financier, the rent after the first quarter to be paid 
 quarterly in advance. Promptly at the expiration of 
 the first three months the cadaverous visage of the 
 landlord, lengthened by the thought of the half year b 
 rent now due, appeared in the lawyer's office, apptared 
 
814 
 
 TALES OP THE TIMES. 
 
 there day after day, and apjDeared manifestly dissatis- 
 fied. Finall}/ his patience deserted him, and he in- 
 dulged in the injudicious remark that in his opinion 
 his tenants were a pair of swindling vagabonds, and 
 that they should be incontinently ejected. 
 
 Following this remark the landlord stepped out, 
 stepped hastily out of the door, followed by two or 
 three sticks of stove-wood stolen from his own wood 
 pile. Consolation came to him in the form of oiie of 
 the lawyers, who apologized for the indignity and de- 
 nounced the conduct of the other, a wicked disgraceful 
 man, thenceforward no longer his associate. Disso- 
 lution of partnership was the least reparation he could 
 make the landlord; moreover, he professed to be an 
 honest man ; he would pay the rent himself, though 
 parting with his shirt should be the consequence. 
 
 But would not the landlord sue and eject the im- 
 pudent vagabond. It was a simple case, and lawless 
 lawyers should be taught behavior as well as cut- 
 tliroats. Yes, it was his duty as a wealthy, high- 
 mi p. led citizen, who had the interests of our great 
 Amorican institutions at heart, to do it. The land- 
 lord did not like the law, but anger, interest, and pride 
 all urged him on. Suit was brought; the landlord's 
 attorney argued the case for several days; he had 
 plenty of time, he wished to brush up his legal lore, 
 astonish the natives, and earn the respectable sura 
 which reputation and the honor of his profession 
 compelled him to charge his client. The justice de- 
 cided against the landlord, that being the only way to 
 secure his fee — two ounces. The much-abused tenant 
 then sued the landlord for defamation of character, 
 and summoned his associate as witness. 
 
 The unhappy landlord now saw clearly that he 
 had fallen among thieves. Having so long and so 
 sweetly enjoyed cheating, he now might take the 
 pleasure of being cheated. He saw that graceful 
 discretion was better than blustering valor; so he 
 told his tenants that they were welcome to their 
 
AMONG THIEVES. 
 
 813 
 
 room as long as they would favor it with their pres- 
 ence, if so be they would kindly withdraw their suit 
 for damages. The injured but forgiving pair ac- 
 quiesced. One thing only now remained. A little 
 bill of $500 for professional services oh the part of 
 the landlord's attorney. Groaning in spirit the land- 
 lord paid it, and the lawyers divided it between them. 
 They also kept the defamation action m terrorenit 
 whereat the landlord ever after was very meek. 
 
 During the season of 1848-9 some men wintered in 
 the region of Calaveras and Mokelumne, and before 
 spring gold was more plenty than creature comforts. 
 Hence it was that the first spring traders reaped rich 
 harvests. 
 
 In February 1849, a man named Ricord, with a 
 body guard of three, to each of whom he paid $400 
 for two weeks' services for man and horse, started 
 from Staples, then McKenzie's rancho, on the Moke- 
 lumne river, for the spot later known as Robinson's 
 ferry on the Stanislaus. Ricord drove nine pack ani- 
 mals loaded with 200 pounds each of assortetl goods, 
 composed largely of liquors. The rains had so soft- 
 ened the ground as to greatly impede their ])rogress, 
 but the sales which they made- — clay pipes two dollars 
 each ; blankets forty dollars a pair ; liquor twenty 
 dollars a bottle, one ounce the tin cup full or two dol- 
 lars a drink: boots forty dollars a pair, and beads, 
 powder, and medicines, weight for weight in gold — 
 this description of barter reconciled the trader to the 
 rain and mud. 
 
 Passing Angel's and Carson's, even at that early 
 day regarded as worked out, though later considered 
 good diggings still, they finally reached their point of 
 destination at the foot of Murphy's gulch, on the 
 Stanislaus. No more riotous, roaring camp ever 
 frightened the coyotes of the Sierra drainage. There 
 congregated the diggers from every quarter, and held 
 high carnival as long as their money lasted. Was it 
 
818 
 
 TALES OF THE TIMES. 
 
 not strange that these men should leave pleasant 
 homes, travel three, six, ten thousand miles, and sub- 
 ject themselves to the discomforts of a houseless Cali- 
 fornian winter, for gold, only to pour it into the pocket 
 of t)ie first whisky-seller that came to their camp! 
 
 Ricord drove into camp about sunset. For six 
 long weeks the place had been absolutely dry — of 
 whisky. No sooner was it noised abroad that asup- 
 ply of the bliss-producing poison was at hand, than 
 eager applicants with outstretched hands holding 
 cups, bottles, kettles, bowls, dishes, anything that 
 would hold water, approached from every direction, 
 craving each a portion as eagerly as if a draught of it 
 conferred upon them immortality. 
 
 Whereunto shall we liken the tapping of those 
 whiskey kegs in that uproarious camp of the gold-dig- 
 gers ? It was like the opening of Pandora's box which 
 should let fly all the evils incident to man ; or like the 
 mud-born serpent Python crushing all within its coils; 
 or like the HarpyisB sweeping flighty souls away in 
 the storm wind ; or like the Eumenides taking from 
 men all peace of mind and leading them into misery 
 and misfortune. The flow of this fiery liquid was like 
 the pouring out of the seven vials of wrath by the 
 apocalyptic angels, which should send abroad disease, 
 turn elements of life into elements of death; which 
 should scorch with fire, darken the intellect, dry up 
 the affections, and cause men to blaspheme the God 
 of heaven because of their pains and sores ; or like 
 the surgings of the river of Erebus, the dark and 
 gloomy passage to stygian realms. 
 
 For all these ills, and more, it would require to 
 consummate the scene that followed. In less than an 
 hour were heard the ominous breathings of the ap- 
 proaching storm. By nine o'clock there was scarcely 
 a sober man in camp. On every side was rioting, 
 hair-pulling, striking, brandishing of knives, and firing 
 of pistols, accompanied with no little blood-letting. 
 All nature was that ni;j:ht intoxicated. Even the 
 
A WHISKY-SMITTEN CAMP. g,; 
 
 river seemed to reel, and the hills and sky to roll to- 
 gether in sudden drunkenness. The morning sun. blear- 
 eyed and red rose upon a picture disgusting! damnable 
 Scattered about the streets, stretehed at foil length 
 on their Wks and sides, and faces, mider lo^. fnd 
 beside their cloth houses, were mingled promiscuously 
 tamed men of Europe. Asia, and Africa, and milS 
 mannered women of America, drunk, dead drunk, and 
 
 RW^ t'flr. ^1 "^^*^^ ^y ^^^^ ««"owful sun 
 Ricord left them there; left with them and in them 
 
 every drop of his detestable poison ; but carried away 
 
 gold, as much as he could several times lift. 
 
 Cal. Int. Poc. 53 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Acapnlco, descript. of, 209-13. 
 
 Adams, G., story of, 720-1. 
 
 Agua Frio, justice at, 1852, 627-9. 
 
 Alaska, want of prison facilities in, 
 434. 
 
 Almond, W. B., peanut peddler, 1849, 
 591-2; judge, 59.3-000. 
 
 Alvarado, D., death of, 744-5. 
 
 Alvarado, Gov., " Historia de Cali- 
 fornia," 41; statement of, 46. 
 
 Amador, justice at, 1854, 646-7. 
 
 Ames, A. M., the Chico riots, 1877, 
 573. 
 
 Anderson, C, duel with Lewis, 1866, 
 780; story of, 793. 
 
 Angel thond, duelling at, 1858,762-3. 
 
 Applegato, I., mention of, 457; con- 
 ference v'th Capt. Jack, 1871, 
 459-60; 1872, 465-6; the Modoc 
 outbreak, 471, 478-82; campaign 
 at the lava beds, 1872-3, 496. 
 
 Applegate, J., Capt. Jack's demands 
 on, 1871, 458-9; conference with 
 Capt. Jack, 1872, 465-6; the Mo- 
 doc outbreak, 1872, 478-82; peace 
 commissioner, 1873, 510; resigns, 
 519; rept. of, 519-20. 
 
 Applegate, L., the Modoc outbreak, 
 1872, 482. 
 
 Applegate, 0., the Modoc outbreak, 
 1872, 478. 
 
 Applegate, O. C, the Modoc outbreak, 
 1872, 486-7; campaign at the lava 
 beds, 1872-3, 490-504; at Link- 
 ville, 1873, 5.34-5. 
 
 Ashley, discoveries of, 90. 
 
 Aspinwall, descript. of, 1852, 15&-60. 
 
 Atherton, M., trial of, 1877, 580. 
 
 Atwell, R. H., mention of, 513. 
 
 Auctions, descript. of, 346-7, 350-1, 
 358-9. 
 
 Austin, duelling at, 1864, 778. 
 
 Azanza, M. J. de, exploration of, 
 81. 
 
 B 
 
 Babbitt, A. W., mention of, 434. 
 Badger Hill; justice at, 614-15. 
 Baird, O. T., duel with Wright, 1853, 
 
 756. 
 Baldwin, J., death of, 404. 
 Bancroft, H. U., voyage to CaL, 
 
 1853, 124-224. 
 Bandini, J., remark? of, 55. 
 Banking, James, descript. of, 700-3. 
 Barbour, W. T., story of, 611-12. 
 Barlow, Capt. G., voyage of, 1719, 
 
 30. 
 Barry, Justice R. C, administ. of, 
 
 1851, 630-,2. 
 Bates, Alcalde, mention of, 608. 
 Beane, C. E., duel with Wilson, 1870, 
 
 783. 
 Beideman, H., challenge of, 1854, 
 
 761. 
 Belt, G., alcalde, etc., 1849, 609-10. 
 Benedict XIV, Pope, bull of, 746. 
 Benham, C, Teriy's second, 771-2. 
 Benson, T. L., duel with Menzies, 
 
 1854, 759, 
 
 Bernard, Capt., the Modoc war, 
 
 1872-3, 485-504, 548. 
 Bein, W., rascality of, 1857, 342. 
 Bennett, gold found by, 58. 
 Briddle, Col., reconnoissancea of, 
 
 1873, 528-9. 
 Bidwell, J., mention of, 570-2. 
 Bigler, Gov., the gold discov., 76-81. 
 Biven, R., duel with Dorsey, 1854, 
 
 760. 
 Blackburn, Alcalde W., story of, 
 
 652-3. 
 Blair, J., duel of, 1852, 752. 
 Blake, H. B., statement of, 43. 
 Blake, M. P., mention of, 772. 
 Boddy, Massacre, descript. of, 1878, 
 
 473-5. 
 Boddy, R., killed by Modocs, 1872, 
 
 474-5. 
 Boise city, disposal of lotn at, 412. 
 (810) 
 
INDEX. 
 
 »M 
 
 Boildy, W., killed by Modocs, 1872, 
 
 474-5. 
 Boise County Jail, mention of, 431. 
 Bonneville, Capt., adventures of, 
 
 1832, 91. 
 Booth, Gov., the Modocs' outbreak, 
 
 1872, 486. 
 Booth, Mrs, the Laura D. Fair trial, 
 
 625-6. 
 Borondo, 0. S., duel with Soto, 1826, 
 
 746. 
 'Boston Charley,' interview with 
 
 Roneborough, 536; surrender and 
 
 execution of, 5i38. 
 Bontelle, affray with Modocs, 1872, 
 
 470-1. 
 Bowie, H., mention of, 758. 
 Boylc, Capt. W. H., the Modoo out- 
 break, 1872, 488. 
 Boyle, Lieut, escape of, 544-5. 
 Boyle, Quartermaster, campaign at 
 
 the lava beds, 1872-3, 50.3. 
 Bowman, trial, etc. of, 63G-8. 
 Braunan, S., stories of, 246-7, 607; 
 
 trial of Pickett, 1848, 608-9. 
 Brazer, M. C, duel with Park, 1854, 
 
 760. 
 Briarly, Surgeon, mention of, 760. 
 Broderick, D. C, duel with Smith, 
 
 1852, 752-3; with Terry, IS-W, 76.3- 
 
 72; (juarrel with Perley, 765-6. 
 Brothcrton Massacre, descript. of, 
 
 474-7. 
 Brotherton, Mrs, narr. of, 476-7. 
 Brown, J., story of, 604-5. 
 Brown, Judge, administ. of, 653-6. 
 Bull-fighting, descript. of, 283-5. 
 Burn ton, G. H., the Modoc outbreak, 
 
 1872, 488. 
 Burton, Capt., campaign at the lava 
 
 beds, 1872-3, 494, 499, 548. 
 
 C 
 
 Cabaniss, Dr, mention of, 544-5. 
 
 Cal>ello, L., works of, 28. 
 
 Calaveras county, justice in, 648-50. 
 
 Calaveras grove, descript. of, 15. 
 
 California, valleys of, 2-13; moun- 
 tains, 2-22; scenery, 2-24; climate, 
 6-7; gold discoveries, 25-88; overl. 
 and travel to 89-120; the voyage 
 to, 121-224; mining in, 228-47, 
 364-6, 381-95, early miners of, 
 249-59; descript. of 8an Francisco, 
 260-93; society, 294-314; pursuit 
 of wealth, 316-18; profanity, 319- 
 20; travel, 326-31; pack trains, 
 331-2; commerce, 33(5-58; stock- 
 broking, 336-7; strikes, 330-40; 
 
 California, coinage, 340-1; l>ank and 
 business failures, 341, 344; prices 
 347-61 ;re8t't8, .349-50; business de- 
 pression in, 1851-4, 366-7; progress 
 of, 359-60; life and cliaracter in, 
 361-80; the Jewish element, .S72-4; 
 lack of gov't in, 375; evil repute of, 
 376-6; squatter troubles, etc., in, 
 306-412; land commission for, 
 
 1851, 398-9; prisons, 413-:iO; the 
 Modoc war, 446-.')60; outrages on 
 Chinese, 1871, 1877,561-81; justice 
 and judiciary, 582-657; <lrinktng, 
 661-84; hotels, 6(56-7; restaurunts, 
 668; saloons, 669, 674-8; gambling, 
 694-733; duelling, 741-84, 801-4; 
 miscell. stories, <85-817; churcli, 
 797-805. 
 
 Canby, Gen., appointment of, 1870, 
 453; petition to, 461; corresiiond. 
 with Meacham, 460-4; with Wlieat- 
 ton, 470; the Mwloc outbreak, 1872, 
 487; dispositions of, 1873, ."yM-o; 
 correspond, with Sherman, 503-6; 
 616-17, 626-7; reply to peace com- 
 mis., 519; negotiations, etc., of, 
 521, 631; messages to, 521-5; re- 
 ports of, 530-2; conference with 
 Modocs, 638-42, 543-4; death of, 
 642-3. 
 
 Cardwell, stories of, 44.3-5. 
 
 Carmelo creek, gold discov'd on, 
 68-9. 
 
 Carpentier, M. le, collection, etc. of, 
 44-6. 
 
 Carson hill, disturbance at, 237-40. 
 
 Carson jail, buildings, etc., 426; es- 
 capes from, 1871, 1877, 426-30. 
 
 Carson's creek, gopher story at, 794- 
 6. 
 
 Carson, J. H., 'Early recollections,' 
 etc., 3.3-4. 
 
 Carter, W. H., duel with De Courcy. 
 
 1852, 753. 
 
 Case, S., peace commissioner, 187.3, 
 
 610; resigns, 619. 
 Castillo, descript. of, 201. 
 Castro, P., story of, 6.")4-5. 
 Catalfi, Padre, M., prediction of, 40. 
 Caucasians, order of, described, 570-2. 
 Caulfield, affray with Judge Wilson, 
 
 1852, 640. 
 Cavallier, E., mention of, 768. 
 Cave, story of, 442. 
 Cemeteries, descript. of, 290-1. 
 Cerruti, story of, 627. 
 Chagres river, boating on, 1852, 
 
 162-9; descript. of, 166 9. 
 Champ, Justice J. W., administ. of, 
 635-8. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Chagres, desoript. of, 1852, 168. 
 Chapin, Lieut, canii>aign at the Uva 
 
 Ii«ds, 1872-3, 548. 
 Chaviteaiix, H., duel with Bioharda, 
 
 1804, 758. 
 Chico, outrages on Chineae in, 1876- 
 
 508-81. 
 Chineae, outrages on, 1871, 1877,661- 
 
 81; duelling among, 1851, 760-1. 
 
 Church, sketch of in Cal., 797-806. 
 City Hall, San Francisco, desoript. 
 
 of, 1849, 265. 
 Cliffoi^I, the Carson jail Omenta, 1871, 
 
 426-7. 
 Climate, (Cal. ) descript. of, 6-7. 
 Clinton, Dr, story of, 361. 
 Coinage, mention of, 340-1. 
 Coleman, T., duel with Mulligan, 
 
 1 864 778. 
 CoUett, J. W., death of, 1848, 748. 
 Coloma, gold discov. at, 62-8i6; min> 
 
 ing dispute at, 1861, 245-6. 
 Colombo. Dr, mention of, 779. 
 Colton, D. D., Broderick's second, 
 
 771. 
 Cr)lton, Rev., statements, etc., of, 
 
 69-60; story of, 437-8. 
 Commerce, descript. of, 336-68. 
 Congress, land commission app'd by, 
 
 1861, 398-9; memorial to, 400. 
 Conway, F., the Chico riots, 1877, 
 
 572-6; arrest, etc., of, 577-9. 
 Cotter, J., duel with Nugent, 1862. 
 
 754. 
 Crabb, Senator, mention of, 760. 
 Crane, A., duel with Toby, 1868, 
 
 857. 
 Cranston, Lieut, campaign at the 
 
 lava beds, 1872-3, 648-9. 
 Crawley, D., affray with Modocs, 
 
 1872, 472-3. 
 Crook, Oen., petition to, etc., 1869, 
 
 460; removal of, 1870, 443; cam- 
 ugn at the lava beds, 1872-3, 
 
 Dans, J. D., remarks of, 46-7. 
 
 D&vila, P., founds FanamA, etc, 178. 
 
 Davis, B., story of, 720-1. 
 
 Death, remarks on, 658-60. 
 
 De Courcy, H. A., duel with Carter, 
 
 1852, 763. 
 Deer Lodge Prison, descript. of, 431- 
 
 4. 
 Delano, Secretary, the Modoc war, 
 
 1872-3, 606-7; answer to Orover's 
 
 protest 1873, 610. 
 
 Delano, Secretary, letter to Meacham, 
 
 616; correspond, with Canby, 633; 
 
 indignation against, 646-7. 
 Den, mention of, 411. 
 Denter, C. W., story of, 636-8. 
 Denver, J. W., duel with Gilbert, 
 
 etc., 1862, 756-6. 
 Denver, Lieut Gov., the ^meute at 
 
 Carson jail, 1871,427-8. 
 Devil's Cafion, duelling at, 1866, 761- 
 
 2. 
 Dibble, O. M., duel with Lundy. 
 
 1861, 761-2. 
 Dickson, J. P., duel with Thomas. 
 
 1854, 758. 
 Donkeyville, justice at, 640-3. 
 Donner tragedy, descript. of, 93-109. 
 Dorris, recommendation, etc.. of. 
 
 493-4. 
 Dorsey, H. P., duel with Biven, 1864. 
 
 760. 
 Dougherty, E., story of, 1862, 626-7. 
 Dowdigan, C. duel with Hawkins. 
 
 1864, 758-9. 
 Downieville, justice at, 1850, 616. 
 Drake, Sir F., vovage, etc., of, 26-7. 
 Dress, descript. of, 295-6. 
 Drew, reconnoissance of, 466. 
 Drinking, evils, etc., of, 660-84; 
 
 stories about, 662-84; customs, 
 
 664-6, 671-2; saloons, 669, 674-8; 
 
 toasts, 676-7. 
 Dubert, duel with EUseler, 1864, 760. 
 Duelling, origin, etc., of, 736-6; folly, 
 
 etc., of, 737, 742-4; hist, of, 740-1; 
 
 in Cal, 741-84; in Spanish Amer., 
 
 744-6. *^ 
 
 • Duke John,' story of, 727-33. 
 Duran, Father, report of, 1825, 746. 
 Dyar, Agent, conference with Capt. 
 
 Jack, etc., 1872, 466-6; the Motloo 
 
 outbreak, 1872, 478; at Camp 
 
 Yainax, 491; peace commissioner, 
 
 1873, 628; conference with Modocs, 
 
 638-42; escape of, 542-3. 
 
 B 
 
 Eagan, Lieut, campaign at the lava 
 
 beds, 1872-3, 649. 
 Easterbrook, J. £., duel with Knight, 
 
 1859, 776. 
 Eddy, W. H., the 'Donner tragedy,' 
 
 93-106. 
 Eggleston, G., story of, 348. 
 EIDorado, name, etc., 226-7. 
 fillsellpr, duel with Dubert, 1884, 
 
 760. 
 Estill. J. M., prison contracts of, 
 
 1861-6, 416-16. 
 
INDEX 
 
 821 
 
 *Euph6tnia,* prison ship, pnrchuo, 
 
 etc., of. 1849, 415. 
 Eureka, dnelling at, 1850, 748-0. 
 Evans, D., duel with Northrop, 1877, 
 
 784. 
 Evans, O. M., ■tatementa, etc., of, 
 
 55-8. 
 Ewer, letter of, 27&-S1. 
 
 Fahey, J., the Chioo riots, 1877, 
 673^. 
 
 Fair, L. D., trial of, 623-0. 
 
 Fairchild, Capt., campaign at the 
 lava l)eds, 1872-3, 4i>4-504; n. ^o- 
 tiations of, 512-14; the peace > .>m- 
 mission, 613-14; interview with 
 Capt. Jack, 535-6; Mo<loos sur- 
 render to, 557-8. 
 
 Fairfax, C. S., mention of, 750. 
 
 Feather river, alleged gold discov. on, 
 1818, 37-8. 
 
 Fellen, relief of Donner party, 102, 
 107. 
 
 Ferguson, Senator, duel with Johnson, 
 1858, 762-.^ 
 
 Ferree, I). J., the Modoo outbreak, 
 1872, 478. 
 
 Ferrend, Major, mention of, 782. 
 
 Field, Judge S. J., story of, 1850, 
 610-11. 
 
 Finncgan, mining claim of, 239-40. 
 
 Fisck, G., the Modoc outbreak, 187" 
 479. 
 
 Fitch, T., duel Mrith Goodman, etc., 
 1803, 770-8. 
 
 Flannagan, M. K, challenge of, 1854, 
 749. 
 
 Fletcher, story of, 387-8. 
 
 Folsom, justice at, 612. 
 
 Folsom, Capt, squatter troubles of, 
 404. 
 
 Folsom, duel with Russell, 1851, 751. 
 
 ForlKJs, A., statements of, 18:)5, 42-.3. 
 
 Foreigners, polit. influence of, 561-2. 
 
 Fouke, duel with SaflFord, 1805, 779. 
 
 Fremont, Gen., story of, 748. 
 
 Frisbie, J. B., mention of, 412. 
 
 O 
 
 Galvez, J., exploration of, 31. 
 
 Gambling, evils, etc., of, 686-08; laws 
 against, 687-8; tricks in, 687, 691- 
 2; prevalence of, 680; inCal., 694- 
 733; efifect of, 695; banking games, 
 700-3; lasauenet, 700-3; rondo, 
 701; gamblers, the personnel of, 
 703-9. 
 
 Gaming-honses, 708-10; monte, 711; 
 
 stories, 695-7,713-.^% 801-4; poker, 
 
 719-20; chances in, 72:{-6. 
 Oatewood, W. J., duel with (iioid- 
 
 win, 1859, 775-6. 
 Geary, J. W., alcalde, 1850, 600-1. 
 Geysers, descript. of, 17-21. 
 Gilbert, E., duel with Denver, etc., 
 
 1852, 756-6. 
 Gillem, (icn. A. C, superset U-ii 
 
 Wheaton, 1873, 506; tlio Modco 
 
 war, 509, 547-69. 
 Gillespie, story of, .346-7. 
 Glover, A., relief of Donner l>arty, 
 
 102-6. 
 Godfrey, G. K., sham duel of, 18.'9, 
 
 774-6. 
 Gold Discoveries, in Cal., 2.'>-88. 
 Gold-dust, trattic in, 340. 
 Gonard, the ^ineute at Carson jail, 
 
 1878, 4.30. 
 Goodale, Lieut, at Ft Klamath, 18i;9, 
 
 450-3. 
 Goodman, I. T., duel with Fitch, 
 
 1863, 776-8. 
 GocMlwin, P., duel with Gatewood, 
 
 1859, 775-6. 
 Gordon, W., story of, 629. 
 frorgonii, descript. of, 170-1. 
 (Soscolo, Chief, death of, 747-8. 
 Gould, story of, 639. 
 Graham, W. H., duels, etc., of, 1851, 
 
 750. 
 Graham, W. R., challenge sent to, 
 
 1854, 749. 
 Grand Jury, descript. of, 1850, 600-1. 
 Gray, statement of, 41. 
 Gniyson, A. J the Donner tragetly, 
 
 04-5. 
 Green, Col J., iit Ft Klamath, * '2, 
 
 469-70; corrcHpond with Wheatoa, 
 
 484-5; campaign at tlio lava hvdn, 
 
 1872-.3, 491-503, 548-52. 
 Griffith, J., story of, 1851, 796-7. ^ 
 Grover, Gov., petition, etc., to, 1872, 
 
 463-4; to Modoc outbreak, 1872, 
 
 486; protest of, 610; orders of, 
 
 1873, 555. 
 Guzman, T. de, discovers site of 
 
 Panamfi, 1615, 178. 
 Gwin, W. M., duel of, 185.3, 756. 
 
 Habana, descript. of, 151-2. 
 Hacker, D. K., duel with London, 
 
 1864, 759-60. 
 Hager, Judge, the Terry case, 772-3 
 Hanley, P., affray with O'Brien, etc., 
 
 1877, 783-4. 
 
822 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Hamlileton, Mrs, death of, 2.18-9. 
 
 Ihtrdcooii, death of, 117-8. 
 
 lliirdy, .ludgo J. H., tlio Terry case, 
 
 18.V.>, 773; indicted for iiiuider, 774. 
 }iara.s/,thy, Auguxtin, of U. 8. branch 
 
 mint, :U2. 
 Hari^raves, story of, 63. 
 llasbrouck, H. C, mention of, 534, 
 ll!i>!ting!4, L. W., the Downer tragedy, 
 
 'Jl». 
 llaverstick. Registrar, trial before, 
 
 g:«). 
 
 Hawkins, J., duel with Dowdigau, 
 
 ]HM, 738-9. 
 Hayes, Alderman, duel with Nugent, 
 
 1853, 754-5. 
 Hayes, T., Terry's second, 771. 
 Hoaldsluirg, squatter troubles near, 
 
 411-11». 
 Herbert, P. T., mention of, 759. 
 Hertz, H., story of, 8()!t-12. 
 Hill, !>., campaign at the lava beds, 
 
 1872-3, 495. 
 Hitchcock, C. M., mention of, 760. 
 lli/.er, Lieut, campaign at the lava 
 
 bods, 1872^, 498. 
 H oat Hoy, M., robbery, etc., of, 1877, 
 
 044-0. 
 lloldcrbaum. A., the Chico riots, 
 
 1877, 573; trial of, 579. 
 Holiday, outrage of, 410-11. 
 'Hooker .lim,' campaign at the lava 
 
 beds, 1872-3, 492, 498; surrender 
 
 of, 558. 
 Hot creek, Indians of, 483-4, 487. 
 Hovey, E., death of, 652. 
 Howard & Melius, mention of, 345. 
 Howe, Lieut, campaign at tlie lava 
 
 beds, 187-23, 549, 554. 
 Hoyt, exped. of, .3.3. 
 lluliert, N,, duel with Hunt, 1854, 
 
 759. 
 Hudson, story of, 728-.32. 
 Hunt, ii. T., duel Mith Hubert, 1854, 
 
 759. 
 Hunt, Major, mention of, 468. 
 Hunter, J., duel with Pitcher, 782. 
 Huntington, Superintendent, treaty 
 
 with Indians, 1864, 446-7. 
 
 Idaho, convicts of, 431. 
 
 Innnigration, character of, 361-3. 
 
 Irish, polit. influence of, 561. 
 
 Indians, traffic with, 436-7; employ- 
 ment of, 438-42; treaties with, 
 1864, 446-50; the Motloc war, 440- 
 560. 
 
 Inge, S.W., duel with Stanley, 750. 
 
 Jack, Capt., treaty with, 1864, 446- 
 50; negotiations with, 450-1, 457-9; 
 40i)-9, 483-4; at Mo<b)0 point, 451; 
 at Lost river, 451, 454; complaints 
 of, 4.')2; land claimed by, 4.'')3-5; 
 raids, etc., of, 1870-1, 45.")-7; con- 
 ference witli, 1871, 459-00; 1872, 
 465-6; insolence of, 46li 9; at- 
 tempted arrest of, 470^3; campaign 
 at the lava licds, 1872-3, 488-504, 
 547-57; message to t'anby, 522-5; 
 conference with {>oaco commi.ss., 
 538-42; massacre of comniiss., 542- 
 6; surrender and execution of, 558. 
 
 Jackson, Capt. J., at Ft Klamath, 
 1870, 457; aflFray with Modoc<, 
 1872, 470-2; campaign at 1.!ie lava 
 beds, 1872-3, 490-504. 
 
 .Tews, status, etc., of in Cal., 372-4. 
 
 Jimeno grant, disturbance at, 1853, 
 410. 
 
 Jones, H. J., the Chico riots, 1887, 
 572. 
 
 Jones, H. T., conviction of, 1877, 579. 
 
 Jones, W. H., the Hayes-Nugent 
 duel, 1833, 755. 
 
 Johnson, Dr, sayings of, 663-6. 
 
 Johnson, (r. P., duel witli J-^Tguson, 
 1858, 762-3; trial of, 703. 
 
 Jolinsou, Sheriff, mention of, 403-4. 
 
 Judiciary, character of, 582-5, 5SK); 
 stories of the, 691-657. 
 
 Justice, administ., etc., of, 586-656. 
 
 Kanakas, employment of, 441-2. 
 
 Koarn, U., nuaition of, 448. 
 
 Kelly, Capt. H. , the Modoc outbreak, 
 
 1872, 482; campaign at tlie lava 
 
 beds, 1872-3, 491-503. 
 Kelsey, (1., story of, 1850, 617-21. 
 Kemble, E. C, duel with McDougal, 
 
 1851, 751. 
 Ketchum, suit of, 639. 
 Kewen, A., duel M'ith Woodlief, etc., 
 
 1834, 760-1. 
 Keys, Capt., m^-ntion of, 403. 
 Kiesburg, the Donner tragedy, 97-8, 
 
 106-8. 
 King, T. S., influence of, 798. 
 Kingston, descript. of, 133. 
 Klamath basin, petition from settlers 
 
 of, 1872, 463. 
 Klamath, Fort, reservation at, 450; 
 
 forces at, 1870, 464. 
 Klamaths, treaty with, 1864, 446-50; 
 
 raids of, 1863, 447. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Klain.iths, raids of, at Motloc point, 
 ■i.'i.'-.'i: ciiiii|iiiign at tlio lava Itoila, 
 
 Kiiaiip, 1*. v., at Ft Klamath, 1870, 
 4'}\-'i; ineutiiig with Capt. Jack, 
 45(>; naiovcd, 1870, 4.')7. 
 
 Knight, (i., voyage of, 1719, SO. 
 
 Kuif;lit, S., dud with Eastorbrook, 
 1851), 77«. 
 
 Kriig, C, duel with Loehr, 1853, 
 7o(>-7. 
 
 Kylu, Lieut, J. G., the Modoo out- 
 lireak, 1872, 485; campaign at the 
 lava beds, 1872-3, 490-501. 
 
 La Paco, L., mention of, 779. 
 Lagrode, the Tcrry-Broderick duel, 
 
 708. 
 Lake county, justice in, 1865, 647-8. 
 Lalako, Chief, raids of, 1863, 447, 
 
 4.")4-5. 
 Land commission, appointment, etc. 
 
 of, 1851, 398-S). 
 Langell valley, Modoc raids, 73, 534. 
 Langdon, S. , duel with llyer, '57, 761-2 
 Lark, Justice A., administ. of, 1854, 
 
 640-7. 
 Larkin, T. O., statements of, 1846, 
 
 53-4. 
 Lauiiqncnct, deacript. of, 700-3. 
 Lava beds, deacript. of, 488-9; cam- 
 paign of tlie, 1872-3, 490-505, 647- 
 
 57. 
 Law-courts, 298; descript. of, 590- 
 
 656. 
 f .awson, F. , mention of, 400. 
 Leary, Lieut, mention of, 554. 
 Lee, B., story of, 354-5. 
 Leggett, W., duel with Morrison, 
 
 1852, 752. 
 Lcmni, C, the Chico riots, 1877, 574. 
 Leon, P. de, thiel with Velasco, 744. 
 Levi, sham duel of, 1859 775. 
 Lewis. T. D. P., duel with Somers, 
 
 185.3, 757. 
 Lewis, duel with Anderson, 1806, 
 
 780. 
 Lick, J., squatter troubles of, 405. 
 l.inkville, alarm at, 1873, 534-5. 
 Loehr, l)r, duel witli Krug, 1853, 
 
 750-7. 
 Loker, T., suit of, 1850, 619-21. 
 London, J. S., duel with Hacker, 
 
 1854, 759-60. 
 Lopez, F., gold discov'd by, 1842, 
 
 47-8. 
 Los Angeles, descript. of Negro Alley, 
 
 562-3; Chinese not at, 1871, 563-4. 
 
 Los Angeles, ntttniges on Chinese at, 
 564-7; iniiiicHt at, 567-8; duelling 
 at, 1852, Y'^3-4; 1870, 78.3. 
 
 Lost river, Indian raids near, 1864, 
 449; 1870-1, 455-7; camp on, 1873, 
 505. 
 
 Lower California, coast of, 216. 
 
 Ludingtou, In8|)ector, report of, 1871, 
 460-1. 
 
 Lundy, E. B., duel with Dibble, etc., 
 1851, 751-2. 
 
 Luttrell, J. K., mention of, 656. 
 
 M 
 
 Magrudcr, Col, mention of, 753-4. 
 Manoney, J., trial of, 1877, 579. 
 Mammoth trees, descript. of, 14-15. 
 Manoa, fabled treasures of, 226. 
 Manzanillo, descript. of, 215. 
 Mariposa, grove, descript. of, 15. 
 Marshall, J. W., the gold discov.. 57- 
 
 8, 63-76; mining adventure of, 232. 
 Martinez, adventure of, 226. 
 Marysville, justice at, 1850, 610-11, 
 
 623. 
 Mason, Col, the Modoc outbreak, 
 
 1872, 487-8; campaign at the lava 
 
 beds, 1872-3, 4'.»4-5, 502, 547-50. 
 Mason, story of, 442. 
 MattlicwRon, the emeute at Carson 
 
 jail, 1877, 429-.m 
 May, E., murder of, .580. 
 May, Senator, duel witli Rowe, 185.3, 
 
 757. 
 Mazatlan, descript. of, 215-16. 
 McChristian, P., story of, .38,'>-6. 
 McCorkle, J. W., duel with Gwin, 
 
 1853, 756. 
 
 McDonald, story of, 1814, 745. 
 McDougal, G., duel with Kemble, 
 
 1851, 751. 
 
 McDougal, Gov., menti<m of, 760. 
 McDougal, J., duel witli Russell, 
 
 1852, 756. 
 
 McEldery, affrav with Modocs, 1872, 
 
 470. 
 McFarland co., suit of the, 641-2. 
 McGowan, E., stories of, 602-4. 
 McKay, J)., campaign at the lava 
 
 beds, 1872-3, 492-3, 547. 
 McKibbin, J., Broderick's second, 
 
 771. 
 McKune, affray with Judge Wilson, 
 
 1852, 640. 
 McNabb, J., mention of, 779. 
 McNamara, Capt., J., camjiaign in 
 
 the lava beds, 1872-3, 494. 
 Meiggs, H., defalcation, etc., of, 
 
 1854, 287-90. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Meacham, Snperintendeilt, negotia- 
 tions of, 420-1; treatment of In- 
 dians, 452; policy of, 467-8; at Ft 
 Klamath, 1870, 457; conferetio* 
 with Capt. Jack, 1871, 459 60; 
 correapond. of, 1871-3, 4fiO-4, 630- 
 2; relieved, 1872, 464; chairman of 
 peace commission, 1873, 607; in- 
 structions to, 526' disgust of, 627-8; 
 taterview with Capt. Jack, 635-6; 
 conference with Modocs, 538-42; 
 attempted assass. of, 643. 
 
 MendennaJ), Capt J., mention of, 
 654. 
 
 Menxies, R., duel with Benaon, 1854, 
 759. 
 
 Miller, H. F., mention of, 460; death 
 of, 476. 
 
 Miller, Lieut, campaign at the lava 
 beds, 1872-3, 494-5, 548-9. 
 
 Mills, Capt C. S., mention of, 486. 
 
 Miners, characteristics, etc., of, 247- 
 69, 364-6, 381-95; fortune and mis- 
 fortunes, 383-4; stories of, 385-94. 
 
 Mining, descript. of, 228-30; diacrimi- 
 natiou against foreigners, 2.32-6; 
 regulations and disputes, 2.%-47; 
 camps, 381-2, 394; stories, 385-94, 
 807-y, 815-17. 
 
 Mo<loc8, name, 446; treaty with, 
 1864, 44(V-50; raids of, 1863, 447; 
 1870-2, 435-82; removed to reser- 
 vation, 450-1; treatment of, 451-2; 
 aflfray with, 1872, 470-3; campaign 
 of the lava beds, 1872-3, 488-504; 
 647-57; the peace commiss., 505-42; 
 massacred i)y, 542-6; surrender 
 and disposal of, 557-9. 
 
 Mokelumne river, duelling on the, 
 1851, 750-1. 
 
 Money making, remarks on, 302. 
 
 Montana, penitentiary frf, 431-2. 
 
 Monterey, descript. of, 222. 
 
 Montour, duel with PiUet, 1813, 745. 
 
 Monte, descript o^ 711. 
 
 Moore, H. de W., the Modoc out- 
 break, 1872, 488. 
 
 Moore, Lieut, campaign at the lava 
 beds, 1872-3, 494. 
 
 Morgan, A., mining claim of, 237-40. 
 
 Mormon island, Indians at, 1848, 
 438-41. 
 
 Morrison, J., duel with Leggett, 1852, 
 752. 
 
 Mountains of Cal., descript. of, 2-16. 
 
 Mulligan, W., mention of, 759; duel 
 with Coleman, 1864, 778. 
 
 Murchison, Sir R., remarks of, 47. 
 
 MHri)hy, J. C, trial, etc. of, 629. 
 
 Murphy, camp of, 441. 
 
 Murray, B., letter of, 646-7. 
 Murray, Judge, H. C, ch{>racter, et<r. 
 of, 605-7. 
 
 N 
 
 Negro alley, (Los Angelee) descripi;. 
 
 of, 1871, 563-3. 
 Nevada city, justice at, 1852, 626-7; 
 
 duelling at, 1861, 751-2. 
 Newell, S. T., kiUing of, 774. 
 NezPerces, trouble with, 1873, 528. 
 Nicaragua, Lake, descript of, 201-2. 
 Nicaragua route, descript of tlic, 198- 
 
 202. 
 Nieto, S., mention of, 748. 
 Niles, Justice J., administ, etc. of, 
 
 640-3. 
 'North America,' wreck of the, 21^ 
 
 14. 
 Northrup, M. V., duel with Evans, 
 
 1877, 784. 
 Nugent, J., duels of, 1852, 754-6. 
 
 Oak grove, duelling at, 1852, 755-6; 
 
 1854, 758. 
 Oakland, disturbance in, 185.'), 408. 
 O'Brien, J., affray with Hanley, 1877, 
 
 783. 
 Odeneal, L. B., Ind. superintendent, 
 
 1872, 464-70; peace commissioner, 
 
 1873, 510. 
 
 Ohio Diggings, search for the, 231-2, 
 Old Kent.U(^ Co., suit against the, 
 
 641-2. 
 Oregon, prisons of, 4.30-1 ; the Modoc 
 
 war, 446-50. 
 Oroville, rioters tried at, 1877, 577-9. 
 Otis, Major, the Modoc troubles, 
 
 1872, 464-9. 
 
 Pacific Mail Co., origin of, 125, opera- 
 tions, 125-6. 
 
 Pack-trains, descript. of, 331-2. 
 
 Palomares, F., narr. of, 747-8. 
 
 Panama bay, descript. of, 184-5. 
 
 Panamd city, hist, sketch of, 158-9; 
 descript. of, 1852, 179-^7. 
 
 Panamli, Isthmus, descript. of, 155- 
 88; travel across, 1852, 156-77; 
 population, 183; climate, 184. 
 
 Park bar, mining dispute at, 1851, 
 246-7. 
 
 Park. T. W., duel with Brazer, 1854, 
 760. 
 
 Parker, R., story of, 348. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 825 
 
 Parsons, G. F., the gold dUcov., 72-3. 
 
 Pattie, J. O., explorations of, 1832, 
 9(>-l. 
 
 Pawnbroking, descript. of, 324-6. 
 
 Peace comnussion, appointment, etc. 
 of, 1873, 605-11; negotiations, SH- 
 IS; report of, 517-19; conference 
 with Modoca, 538-42; commiss. 
 massacred, 542-6. 
 
 Peachy, A. V., duel of, 1852, 762. 
 
 Pearl islands, descript. of, 185. 
 
 Pearson, H., mention of, 406. 
 
 Pefla Corpiiral, mention of, 747-8. 
 
 Perley, D. W., quarrel with Broder- 
 ick, 705-6. 
 
 Perry, Capt., the Modoc outbreak, 
 1872, 485-^; campaign at the lava 
 beds, 1872-3, 490-503, 5-(8, 553; 
 Capt Jack surrenders to, •S, 
 
 Pettigrove, S., story of, 785-7. 
 
 Phyiiician», fees of, 1850, 351. 
 
 Pickett, E. £., statements of, 50, 55; 
 story of, 365-7; trial of, 1848, 
 608-9. 
 
 Piercy, C. W., duel with Showalter, 
 1861, 776. 
 
 Pile-<lriving, descript. of, 1849, 264-5. 
 
 Pillet, duel with Montour, 1813, 745. 
 
 Pitcher, W., duel with Hunter, 782. 
 
 Pizarro, H., mention of, 744-6. 
 
 Pollock, Capt., at Ft Klamath, 1873, 
 534. 
 
 Post office (San Francisco) descript. 
 of, 1851, 278-9. 
 
 Pojtal delivery, descript. of, 272-4. 
 
 Potter, E. W., mention of, 448. 
 
 Powers, J., squatter disturbance of, 
 185.3, 411. 
 
 Prices, extravagance of, 1849-50, 
 .>i7-51. 
 
 Prisons, San Quentin, 413~26; the 
 'Euphemia,' 415; management of, 
 417-22; Carson, 426-30; Salem, 
 430-1; Sttilacoom, 431; Boise 
 c^m.'y, 431; Deer Lodge, 431-4; 
 of Al.ska, 434; of Utah, 434; of 
 Arizona, 434-5. 
 
 Pnifanity, prevalence cif, 319-20. 
 
 Prudon, story of, 789-93. 
 
 R 
 
 Raleigh, Sir W., exped's, etc., of, 
 1595, 1017, 226-7. 
 liandoli)!), mention of, 700. 
 
 Raoussel-Boulbou, Cmiite de, men- 
 tion of, 758. 
 
 Raymond, duel with Tucker, 749. 
 
 Ream, Lieut, campaign at the lava 
 beds, 1872-3, 503-4. 
 
 Reed, J. F., the Donner tragedy, 93- 
 105. 
 
 Restaurants, descript. of, 349-50. 
 
 Reynolds, W. , mention of, 407. 
 
 Rich Bar, stories of, 662, 727-33. 
 
 Richards, M., duel with Chaviteaux, 
 1854, 758. 
 
 Richard, 8. R., prison inspector, 
 1854 434. 
 
 Ricord', story of, 1849, 815-17. 
 
 Riddle, T., warning of, 525; inter- 
 preter to peace commiss., etc., 
 1873, 537-40; escape of, 54.S. 
 
 Riley, C. VV., saloon keeper and 
 iudge, 622-3. 
 
 Riley, Gen., mention of, 415. 
 
 Roberts, E., the Chico riots, 1877, 
 67»-6; trial, etc., of, 578-9. 
 
 Roberts, Lieut G., wouiuled at the 
 lava beds, 1873, 501 
 
 Robinson, Dr, the squatter riots, 
 1849-50, 410. 
 
 Rockwood, A. P., prison inspector, 
 
 1854, 4.34. 
 
 Rogers, Judge, story of, 6r)6. 
 
 Rogue river valley, Indian raid in, 
 
 1855, '45-6. 
 
 Romles, P., the Chico riots, 1877, 
 
 672. 
 Rondo, descript. of, 701-2. 
 Roseborougli, peace coiumissioner, 
 
 1873,512-13; interview with (apt. 
 
 Jack, 5.35-0; with Boston Charley, 
 
 530. 
 Roos, C. L., stf^-y of, .?45 fi. 
 Ross, Gen. J. K., the Modoc war, 
 
 1872-3, 486-95. 500. 
 Rough and Ready, camp, story of, 
 
 7J»-9. 
 Rowe, E., duel with May, 18.'i.3, 7.". 
 Rnelle, J. R., story of, .Vi. 
 Russell, A. C, duel with Folsom, 
 
 1851, 751. 
 Russell, T., mention of, 747 
 Russell, duel with McDougal, '.^S, 7.'0. 
 Rust, duel with Stidgcr, IS").'!, 7.")7. 
 Rutlantl, .T. P. quarrel with Thomas, 
 
 etc., 1854, 757-8. 
 Ryer, W. M., duel with Langdon, '.")7, 
 
 761-2. 
 
 Sacramento squatter riot, IS.TO, 408- 
 10; justice at, 1856, 623; affray at, 
 1852, 640; gambling incidents, 1850, 
 722; cliolora at, 1850, 75)0-2. 
 
 Snfford, C, duel with Fouke, '65, 770. 
 
 Safford, Judge, trial uf Chico rioturs, 
 I 1877, 579. 
 
R'Jll 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 f^ali'iu prison, dcscript. of, 4.T0-1. 
 
 tSaliHins, (iuMuript. of, 074-8. 
 
 San Anilreiw, justice at, 1S77, 044-5; 
 dwelling near, \Sii',), 775-0. 
 
 San Antonio, dwelling at, 1853, 750- 
 7. 
 •San Bias, dcscript. of, 215. 
 
 San Diego, descript. of, 1852, 217; 
 stfirni at, 184'.(, 'J17-21; justice at, 
 1840, (ii:{; duelling lined at, 1830- 
 41, 740-7. 
 
 San Francisco, l>a)' of, 21-3; Imild- 
 ings and streets of, 1841), 200-5, 
 281-2, 280 7; j)ile-<lriving in, '2CA- 
 5; character ot population, 20.V0; 
 tlie drama, 207-0; arrival of steam- 
 ers, 270- 2; pust<al delivery, 272-4; 
 steamer-day, 275-0; post-otlice, 
 278-0; poverty in. 1852-3, 283; 
 liuU-ligliting, 283-5; promenades, 
 28."); cemeteries, 200-1; homes, 2i)l- 
 2; climate, 202; the new city, 202- 
 3; society, 21>4-314; pawnhroking, 
 324 -(i; commerce, ."ill.")-. 58; stock - 
 broking, 330-7; strikes, 330-40; 
 coinage, 340-1 ; hanks and husincss 
 failures, 341, 'M4; auctions, 'M6-7, 
 3.")0 1, 3.")8-0; prices, 347 51; hu.si- 
 ness depression in, 1851-5, 3.jO-7; 
 sijuattt-r trouhlcs, etc. in, .30(>-407; 
 prisons, 415; law-courts, 500, 023- 
 0, 0:V.) 40; grand jurv, 1850. 000-1; 
 gaiiihling ni, 007-727; duelling, 
 lS.-.lliO, 740-83. 
 
 Tvin Isidro, alleged gold discov. near, 
 40. 
 
 Sail .Tose, jtistico at, O-^O; ftoscolo's 
 imtragtN, etc. at, 747-8. 
 
 Sin .I'lau del Norte, dcscript. of, 109. 
 
 San (j'uentin, name, 413; under 
 Spanish rejiime, 414-15; statc- 
 pvisou huiltat, 410; contracts, etc., 
 410-17; site, 41S; ImiMmgs. 418- 
 10; treatnu'ut of prisoners, 410-22; 
 e<cap(M from, 42.5-0; atiray at, 
 1S77. 783 4. 
 
 San Uafael. disturbance near, 407; 
 town of surveyed, 407; duelling 
 near, 1801, 77f). 
 
 Sanilils, l)r, explorations of, 51-2. 
 
 Santa liarhara, duelling at, 1825, 
 740. 
 
 Santa Craz, justice at, 052-5. 
 
 Sivila, Count, 'Nouvelles Annates,' 
 :t.-) (i. 
 
 ' .'"■(•aiface, Thiof,' campaign at the 
 iiiva IkmIs. 1872-3, 402; surrender 
 of, .5,58. 
 
 Scenery. (Cal.) dcscript. of, 2-24. 
 
 Schira, Mrs, uarr. of, 474-5, 
 
 Schira, N., killed by Mndocs, 1872. 
 
 474-5. 
 Sconchin, Chief, raids of 18C3, 447; 
 
 at Modoc point, 451-4; the Modoc 
 
 outbreak, 1872, 400, 478-81, 487; 
 
 the peace commission, 511, 514-15; 
 
 message to Canby, 621-2; mediation 
 
 of, 520; insolence uf, 541; execu- 
 tion of, 558. 
 Schroedcr, J., killed by Modocs, 
 
 1872, 470. 
 Scott, l)r, mention of, 708. 
 Scott, W. H., duel with Smith, 1853, 
 
 757. 
 Scott bar, election at, 1851, 051. 
 Settlers, definition of word, .396-7; 
 
 contrasted with .scpiatters, 307. 
 Sheldon, mining dispute, etc. of, 246. 
 Shelvocke, G., voyage, etc. of, 1710- 
 
 22, 20.30. 
 Shephard, P. W., mention of, 772. 
 Sherman, (ien., the Modoc war, 
 
 1872-3, 505-0; correspond with 
 
 Canby, 510-17, 520 7. 
 Sherwood, Lieut, ileath of, .544-5. 
 Sliillabcr, T., menti(m of, 403. 
 Shillingow, A., killed by Modocs, 
 
 1872, 477. 
 Shoalwatcr bay, justice at, 0.35 8. 
 Showalter, D., duel with rierry, 
 
 1801, 770. 
 Silva, Capt., ("!. M. C, the Mount; 
 
 outlircak, 1872, 488. 
 Silv.as, N., mention of, 748. 
 Sinnnons, W., judge at .Scott Bar, 
 
 etc., 1821, 051. 
 Simpson, 11. I., story of, 4.38-41. 
 Sinclair, story of, 385-0. 
 Siskiyou county, petition from, 1869, 
 
 4.50. 
 Slanglitcr, C., the Chico riots, 1877, 
 
 57'i-O; iirrcst, etc, r)f, 577-9. 
 Slavery, question of, 3(»5. 
 Shiat, L. \V., prediction of, 54. 
 Smith, C. T., story of, 801-4. 
 Smith, (>., story of, 71-2. 
 Smith, 11., menlinn of, 774. 
 .Smitli, il., gold vliscov'd by, 39. 
 Smith, .1. v., duel with Broderick, 
 
 1852, 752 3. 
 Smith, v., duel with Scott, 18,5.3, 7.57. 
 Smith, explorations of, 00. 
 Society, dcscript. of, 2tU-314, 301-80. 
 Sonuirs, C, duel with Lewis, 1853, 
 
 7.57. 
 Sonoma, justice at, 627. 
 Sonora, JH.stice at, 1851,6.30-3; duel- 
 ling at, 18.52, 753; 18.59, 770. 
 Soto, M., duel with Borondo, 1825, 
 
 4U7. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 827 
 
 (Spanish Ainorica, duolliiig in, 744-5. 
 Sparks, Dr, story of, 351. 
 Spokane, Furt, tlueilingat, 1814, 745. 
 tSpi-agiiu, T., atatenicnt of, 39. 
 Springer, T. A., mention of, 62S). 
 Sipiatterisin, name, 3*JG; descript and 
 
 oviU of, 397-412. 
 Sipiatterii, name, 39G 7; contrasted 
 
 witlj settlers, 307; greuil of, 397 -S; 
 
 power of, 401-2; riots, etc., 402-12. 
 St Helena, Mount, descript. of, 16. 
 St^iging, descript. of, 327-31. 
 Stainlirook, T., the Chico riots, 1877, 
 
 r)75-<>; trial of, 579. 
 Stanley, E., dnel with Inge, 1851, 
 
 7.")0. 
 Steamer day, descript. of, 275-4). 
 Steele, K., mention of, 443; Ind. 
 
 Hi4)erinteiident, 18(53, 447; treaty 
 
 with Indians, IS(U, 44S-50. 
 Steele, negotiations, etc., of, 1873, 
 
 512-15. 
 Stt'ilacoom, prison, mention of, 431. 
 Stevens, K., exped. of, .VJ. 
 St(!vens, K. 1'., the I^tira 1). Fair 
 
 trial, ()25. 
 Stidgor, duel with Uust, 18.").3, 757. 
 Stuekltroking, ileseript. of, 3.'U>-7. 
 Stuck ganililing, evils, etc., of, 086, 
 
 (I'.i'J 5. 
 Stockton, electi(m, etc., at, 1849, 
 
 ti09 10; gambling incident at, 18.")0, 
 
 717-18; duelling at, 1S.54, 7G(). 
 Stoddard, \V. 1'., mention of, 774-5. 
 Stone, story of, 720. 
 Slii(kl;inil, E. A., attempted escape 
 
 of. 421). 
 Strikes, descript. of, 339-40. 
 Suis\in, sipiatter trouMe near, 18152, 
 
 412. 
 'Sunday l)isi>atch,' letter in, 1851, 
 
 279-81. 
 Sunset, trojiical, descri})t. of, 203-5. 
 Sui'prise valley, protection of, 1873, 
 
 .■)(»."> 
 SiUti'r, (Jen. .T. A., the gold discov., 
 
 (19 7(5, 84; sipiatter trouMes of, 
 
 |S,")((, -108; I'xpcrience with Indians, 
 
 etc., 4H 2. 
 Sutter's fort, justice at, 1848, 007-9. 
 
 Taylor, ('., story of, 3.'");i-5. 
 
 Terry, D. S., duel witii Hroderick, 
 
 etc., 7t)3-72; trial, etc., of, 772-4. 
 Thellar, Lieut, campaign at the lava 
 
 heds, 1872 3, 517, 5.-)0. 
 Thik'l, tUu Chiuu riots, 580. 
 
 Thomas, Rev. E., )>oacn commissioner, 
 
 1873, 528; indiscretion of, 5.S7; 
 
 conference with. Mmlocs, 5;i8-42; 
 
 death of, 542 3. 
 Thonia«, Major, campaign at tlie lava 
 
 hods, 1872-3, 549 .50; .5.54-7. 
 
 Thomas, I*. W., duel with Dickson, 
 
 18.54, 758. 
 Tliompson, .1. H.. story of, 048. 
 Thompson, W. F., gold discovM hy, 
 
 1839, 4.5. 
 Tlirockmorton, Major, mention of, 
 
 .509; camjiaign at the lava heds, 
 
 1882 .3, 548. 
 Toi)in& Duncan, auction rooms, etc., 
 
 of, 18.52-3, 3.50-7. 
 Tohy, E., duel with (.'rane, 18.53, 757. 
 Tracy, outr.age upon, 411-12. 
 Travel, descript. of, 32(5-31. 
 Truckec, justice at, 051-2. 
 True, B., the Chico riots, 1877, 573. 
 'J'ruett, E., mentiim of, 772. 
 Tucker, duel with liaymond, 18.50, 
 
 749. 
 Tule lake, Ind. outrages near, 1S72, 
 
 473 7. 
 Turk, F., story of. .597-8. 
 Tuthill, F., remark <.f, 47. 
 
 U 
 
 Usury laws, remarks on, 34.3-4. 
 UtJih penitentiary, lucution of, 4.34. 
 
 Vail, O. C, alcalde of Yreka, 1851, 
 
 (5.50 1. 
 N'allejo, justice at, 722 .3. 
 Vallcjo, (leu. M. (J., ' Historia de 
 
 C'alifornia,' 38; pri.son contract of, 
 
 1852, 415. 
 Van Hutten, exped. of, 1.541-5. ."Jt.. 
 Vaughn, ("aj)t. (J., voyage of, 1719, 
 
 m. 
 
 Vel.asco, duel witli Police de Leon, 
 
 744. 
 Veiialih', .1. W., journey to Cal., 
 
 1849. 191 2. 
 Vcr .Mclir, I M', niciition of, 2(>~ 
 Viuder, I'adre, pi'cild'lions of, 40. 
 Virginia city, diU'lling, etc. at, 18(55, 
 
 779 82. 
 Vi/.casiio, S., voyage, etc. of, 27-8. 
 Voorliics, \V. \',in, address of, 1853, 
 
 2li3 4. 
 
 Wadswordi, C. L,, alcalde, etc., 
 1849, 009-10. 
 
828 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Wadsworth, Dr, mention of, 798. 
 
 Wa|5oner, Mrs, death of, 185fi, 445-6. 
 
 Waiuwright, J. E., Beideman's chal- 
 lenge to, 1854, 761. 
 
 Walker, duel with Graham, 1851, 
 749-50. 
 
 Wall, J., story of «4ft-7. 
 
 War, remarks on, 737-42. 
 
 Warner, Camp, force at, 1870, 454. 
 
 WashUurn, Editor, duel with Wash- 
 ington, i854, 760. 
 
 Washington, (Cal.) justice at, 1850, 
 616-21. 
 
 Wanhingt<in, Editor, duel with Wash- 
 Imrn, 1854, 760. 
 
 Washington territory, convicts of. 
 431. 
 
 Water-lots, appropriation, etc. of, 
 405-7. 
 
 Watson, mention of, 760. 
 
 Wealth, pursuit of in Cal., 316-18. 
 
 Wethered, duel with Winter, 1852. 
 753. 
 
 Wijeaton, Col. F., supersedes Otih, 
 1872, 469: oorrosponcf. with Canhy, 
 470: the M.-doc war, I872-.3, 484-5, 
 488, 490-504; superseded, 50<}. 
 
 Wheeler, W. F., mention of, 432-4. 
 V53. 
 
 Whittle, R., the peace oommisiion, 
 
 1873,611-12. ^^ ^ 
 
 Widney, R. M., mention of, 639. 
 Wiener, Mrs, the gold discov., 74-6. 
 Wilbur, J. H., peace commissioner. 
 
 1873, 510. ' 
 
 Wilder, M., story of, 786-7. 
 Wilson, J. B., duel with Beane, 1870, 
 
 783. 
 Wilson, Judge, affray with McKeune, 
 
 1852, 640. 
 Winter, duel with Wctherefl, 1852, 
 Woman, sphere of in Cal., 305-54. 
 Woodlief, D. .1., duel with Keweii, 
 
 etc., 1874, 760 1. 
 WmMiruff, W., prison insjiector, 1854, 
 
 Wright, G. J., duel with Baird. 18r)3, 
 
 7r)6. 
 SVright, H. C, the Chico riots, 1877, 
 
 570-6; arrest, etc. of, 577-9. 
 Wyeth, Capt., expeds, etc. of, 91. 
 
 Y 
 
 Yolo county, justice in, 629. 
 Yreka, justice at, 1851, 650-1. 
 Yosemite valley, dewcript. of, 6-13, 
 Yu«aft Jail, mention of, 434-5.