BANCROFT 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
No. CLXXX 
 
 MAY, 1865. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 HARPER &, BROTHERS, 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUARE, NEW YORK. 
 
VOLUME 30. ) 7/yr/)/?r'c l^/tn<rnviwp \ NEW YORK 
 
 NUMBER 180. tldrjier S IViagaZlHe. I MAYj I865< 
 
 WASHOE REVISITED. (First Pa/jgr.) .............................................................. 68 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. Night-Scene in the Sierras __ The Silver Mania at San Francisco Dirty Mike De- 
 parture from Folsom. Rather Dusty. Gold Dust. A General Smash. Old Charlie. Dangerous Boulders. 
 Scene in the Sierra Nevada __ Job. Point of Rocks, Lake Tahoe. Station on the Washoe Road. 
 
 CHILDLESS .................................................................................................... CO 
 
 LYMAN BEECHER ......................................................................................... G9 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. Lyman Beechar, 1803, Aged 28 The Old Beecher House, New Haven Lot Benton'a 
 House Yale College, 1793. Castle Ward. East Hampton Church. Beecher's House nt East Hampton. 
 Beecher's House at Litchfield. Hanover Church, Boston. Beecher's Residence at Walnut Hills. Ly- 
 man Beecher, 1855, Aged SO. 
 
 HEROIC DEEDS OF HEROIC MEN. VI. THE CHANGE OF BASE ................. 71 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. George B. M'Clellan. Map of the Vicinity of Richmond Robert E. Lee. Battle of 
 Gaines's Mill __ Daniel Bntterfield. A Cavalry Charge Fair Oak Station. Savage's Station. Edwin V. 
 Sumner __ The Retreat. Destruction of the Train. 
 
 OVER THE MEADOW .................................................................................... 7S 
 
 THE HOUSES WE LIVE IN .................. ?. ....................................................... 7c 
 
 ST. LEON'S HEIR ........................................................................................... . 7-1 
 
 INFANCY AND AGE ....................................................................................... 7i 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF THOMAS ...................................................................... U 
 
 With a Portrait. 
 
 ON THE HEIGHTS ......................................................................................... 11 
 
 ARMADALE. By WILKIE COLLINS .................................................................... 7( 
 
 CHAPTER III. The Claims of Society. 
 CHAPTER IV. The March of Events. 
 ILLUSTRATION. Allan's Neighbor. 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD ............................................................... . ..... 1\ 
 
 OUR MUTUAL FRIEND. By CHARLES DICKENS ................................................ li 
 
 CHAPTER V. The Golden Dustman falls into bad Company. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. The Golden Dustman falls into worse Company. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. The Friendly Move takes up a strong Position. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. Trying-On for the Dolls' Dress-Maker. Rogue Riderhood himself again. 
 
 THE OLD LETTER 71 
 
 MONTHLY RECORD OF CURRENT EVENTS 8( 
 
 Sherman's Marcli The First Division Obstacles overcome Plan of the Movement. Capture of Co- 
 lumbia Communication opened with Schofield Actions at Aikin, Fayetteville, Averysborough, and 
 Bentonsville. Schofield's March from Newbern. Battle of Kinston Occupation of Goldsborough Sher- 
 idan's Operations in the Valley of the Shenandoah. Battle at Waynesborotigh Destruction of the James 
 
 River Canal. Junction with Grant. Lee's Attack on Fort Steadman Its Object and Failure. Grant's 
 
 Movements. Battles of March 30 to April 1. Movement upon Petersburg. Evacuation of the City. Oc- 
 cupation of Richmond. Lee's Retreat The Confederate Congress. Davis's Extra Messnge. Response 
 of the Senate The Gold Bill The Negro Enlistment Bill. Hunter's Speech. Governor Vance's Appeal. 
 
 Execution of Kennedy Burning of the General Lyon. The Behring's Strait Telegraph Surviving 
 
 Revolutionary Soldiers. Failure of the Canadian Confederation. 
 
 LITERARY NOTICES 8( 
 
 Napoleon's History ofCsesar Vambery's Travels in Central Asia Gillmore's Siege of Charleston 
 
 Hulley's Ordnance and Armor. Thackeray's Vanity Fair. Praed's Poems. Doi an' s Annals of the Stage. 
 Life of Mendelssohn. March's Method of Philological Study Hooker's Mineralogy and Geology. Bur- 
 ton's Culture of the Observing Faculties. Stone's Life of Sir William Johnson. Christian's Mistake 
 Thoreau's Cape Cod. Jaques's Croquet. Tony Butler Uncle Silas Luttrell of Arran. 
 
 EDITOR'S EASY CHAIR 8( 
 
 Sherman's March. Our Annies in '61 and 'G5 Peace through War. Dickens's Dolls' Dress-Maker 
 
 Dickens as an Artist The French Emperor's Life of Caesar. Lamartine, Louis Bonaparte, and Cavnignac. 
 
 The Philosophy of the Emperor's History Jean Leon Gerome and his Pictures. Old Stock and the 
 
 Easy Chair. 
 
 EDITOR'S DRAWER. 81 
 
 Van G. demurs. Organizing the Pennsylvania Senate. The late Ross. Gay and Tolland. Midship- 
 man Farragut. A Rogerene legally Married Two Epitaphs. Shooting Horse-Shoes. A Pastoral Or- 
 namenting Boots. A Contraband on the Opera A Bohemian Application. The Court ready to Grind. 
 
 Reducing the Indebtedness. Bob's Prayer. Laying a Land Wan-ant. Ecclesiastical Anecdotes. Sore 
 
 Eticns Embrane Oaths on Thaddeus of Warsaw An Officer of the Colored Infantry Dromios in the 
 
 Army Mr. and Mrs. W A very Light-Draught Steamer. My Father Land. Detecting Counterfeits. 
 
 Sharpening Wits. Proof of having a Wife P. D. Casey, Esq. Grave-Yard reserved. John Bull on 
 
 the Rhine. 
 

 \ 
 
 HARPER'S 
 
 MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 No. CLXXX-MAY, 1865, VOL XXX. 
 
 WASHOE REVISITED. 
 
 [jfitst 
 
 '"3 
 
 NIGHT-SCENE IN TUB SIERRAS. 
 
 FOUR years ago a series of papers appeared 
 in this Magazine descriptive of a visit to 
 Waslioe, in which the author related some per- 
 sonal experiences of a very remarkable charac- 
 ter. So wonderful, indeed, were many of his 
 adventures, that certain incredulous persons, 
 who have no difficulty in believing any thing 
 except the truth, boldly assumed that the entire 
 
 narrative was a fiction concocted for speculative 
 purposes. 
 
 The simple truth was that the author, an 
 ex-Government official, found himself one fine 
 morning in San Francisco, with only an empty 
 purse in his pocket, and saw no remedy but to 
 visit the newly-discovered silver regions, which 
 were then making a prodigious stir among the 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by Harper and Brothers, in the Clerk's Office of the Dia- 
 trict Court for the Southern District of New York. 
 VOL. XXX. No. 180. Z z 
 
682 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 
 
 i, I 
 
 THE SILVER MA^IA AT SAN FBANCISCO. 
 
 gunny-bags of Front Street, 'and the bummers, 
 bankers, and other men of enterprising genius 
 on Montgomery Street. Aided by a commission 
 to explore some mines which had no existence 
 in this world or the next, he felt assured that 
 he could, by means of an agency and his own 
 speculative talent, speedily indemnify himself 
 for the unprofitable years which he had spent 
 in the public service. In this hopeful state of 
 mind he set forth on his travels. Unable to 
 procure a conveyance at Placerville short of all 
 the money he possessed or could hope to obtain 
 by borrowing, he sturdily shouldered his blank- 
 ets, and footed it over the mountains through 
 mud, and snow, and rain, slush, and scathing 
 storms to the city of Carson, where he arrived 
 in due time, somewhat battered and wayworn 
 by the hardships of the trip. It is not my in- 
 tention to review in detail the wonderful expe- 
 riences of this adventurer in the land of silver. 
 They will all be found in his published narra- 
 tive, illustrated by authentic wood-cuts. Suf- 
 ficient is it for my purpose to say that before 
 writing his account of Washoe, and the perils 
 and vicissitudes of life in that region, he deemed 
 it prudent to retire to the continent of Europe. 
 The dreary years of his exile from California he 
 tilled up, in some measure, by tours through 
 Spain, Algeria, Germany, Poland, and the re- 
 gions bordering on the Arctic Circle. 
 
 On his return to San Francisco he found, to 
 his astonishment, that the silver mania had 
 taken possession of the entire population, with- 
 out distinction of age or sex. Washoe and the 
 
 regions beyond had pprung up into a second 
 California. Gold was nowhere now : it was all 
 silver above, below, every where. Speculation 
 peered into the silvery heavens in search of new 
 leads ; nay, the genius of enterprise pointed to- 
 ward the regions of everlasting woe as an appro- 
 priate sphere for the smelting interests. Tons 
 of ore were piled in heaps along the curb-stones 
 in the streets ; every office was an emporium for 
 the purchase and sale of feet ; every desk in 
 every store was a stall at which millionaires 
 browsed upon paper ; every window glared and 
 dazzled the sight with gorgeous engravings of 
 stocks ; every man of the hundreds and tens of 
 hundreds that stood at every corner, and in ev- 
 ery saloon, and before every bar, carried feet in 
 his pockets and dividends in his eyes ; and every 
 walking thing, save horses and dogs and rats 
 and mice, talked stocks and feet from morning 
 till night, and dreamed dividends from night 
 till morning. Young ladies would hear of no 
 proposition from any gentleman with less than 
 a thousand feet; and no gentleman, however 
 ardent, would compromise himself without ask- 
 ing, "Is she on the Wild-Cat or Legitimate? 
 How many pay feet does she offer ? and what 
 assessments are due on her ?" Passing a crowd, 
 "Reese River" was poured into one ear, and 
 "Humboldt" into the other. "Washoe!" " Es- 
 meralda!" "Arizona!" "Sonora!" " Struck it 
 rich!" "Silver bricks!" and "Pay rock!" 
 hummed and drummed through the air till the 
 brain was nearly addled. 
 
 No wonder our adventurer, just from the wilds 
 
WASHOE REVISITED. 
 
 of Russia and Iceland, was bewildered. Of the 
 various tongues spoken by the various races of 
 the earth whom he had encountered in his trav- 
 els this was the most difficult to comprehend, 
 and the most foreign to his ear and understand- 
 ing. The very newspapers which he attempted 
 to read furnished snatches of information that 
 filled him with amazement: " Uncle Sanv' was 
 lively ; " Yellow Jacket" was scarcely so firm, 
 owing to a difficulty with the Union ; "Lady 
 Bryant" was in better repute, at advanced rates, 
 and was still in active demand ; " The Savage" 
 was <juiet but strong, at rising figures ; " Buck- 
 eye" was languishing; "Hope" had revived, 
 and sales were made yesterday at $8; "Jose- 
 phine" was firmer at the close, and much sought 
 for ; "Wide West" was drooping and heavy at 
 880 ; " Burning Moscow" was unusually brisk ; 
 and "Sierra Nevada" had a downward tend- 
 ency. 
 
 How in the world was any sane man to com- 
 prehend the state of things when the meaning 
 of terms was changed, and the order of nomen- 
 clature wholly disarranged ? A few days, how- 
 over, enabled our adventurer to catch some drift 
 from the general current of conversation. It 
 was evident that fortunes of extraordinary di- 
 mensions were to be made over the mountains 
 made suddenly, certainly, and without capital, 
 which was precisely the most convenient thing 
 in the world for a man who had just scattered 
 his means all over the world. " Yes !" said he, 
 enthusiastically, "I'll go to Washoe ! I'll pitch 
 in for feet this time ! You bet I'll seize a few 
 of those glittering bricks, and build my castles 
 upon a solid foundation hereafter ! " 
 
 It was quietly hinted, however, by friends 
 solicitous of his welfare, that he had better not 
 show himself in Washoe again, if he placed 
 any value upon his life or the general stability 
 of his constitution. The reasons assigned for 
 this advice were startling and multifarious. It 
 was alleged that the road was lined with blood- 
 thirsty men armed with pistols, double-barreled 
 shot-guns, clubs, pitchforks, bowie-knives, and 
 axes, every one of whom was on the look-out for 
 a solitary pedestrian who had passed over the 
 mountains three years before, , and damaged 
 their reputation by various slanders in the pub- 
 lic prints. Especial mention was made of a 
 ferocious Irishman, by the name of " Dirty 
 Mike," who was watching near the crossing of 
 the American River, with a tremendous shillelah 
 in his right hand and a copy of Harper's Maga- 
 zine in his left ; and it was asserted that if the 
 said Michael ever laid eyes upon the author of 
 the Washoe papers he would speedily show which 
 of the two carried upon his person the greater 
 share of his mother earth. 
 
 Further on, in Hope Valley, there was a soli- 
 tary man who lived, like Diogenes in his tub, 
 having only a ferocious bull-dog as a companion. 
 These two Diogenes and his dog had been 
 chiefly occupied during the past three years in 
 gloating over the anticipated reappearance of 
 "the fellow that showed them up in print." The 
 
 DIRTY MIKE. 
 
 slur upon the cabin might be forgiven ; but that 
 villainous likeness of "him and Bull" was only 
 to be wiped out by blood. Yes he'd offer that 
 fellow fox-skins to eat again he would. You 
 bet he'd settle with him. Ef he didn't you could 
 discount the bill at your own price ! 
 
 Bad as all this was, it was nothing to com- 
 pare with the hints of retribution that came 
 floating over the Sierras from Virginia City, the 
 Devil's Gate, and Carson. Here were some 
 thousands of excited men, accustomed to the 
 use of fire-arms from infancy, who had invested 
 largely in the Love's Delight, Sorrowful Coun- 
 tenance, Pious Wretch, Literary Cuss, and oth- 
 er valuable claims of a kindred character all 
 awaiting, with stern resolution and ill-suppressed 
 rage, the coming of this diabolical quill-driver, 
 w r ho had so basely ruined their mines and blast- 
 ed all their prospects. Many thousands of peo- 
 ple had no other idea of Washoe than what they 
 gathered from these ridiculous caricatures, which 
 were a monstrous fabrication from beginning to 
 end. The tide of capital from the Atlantic 
 States was arrested before it ever got a start 
 from Wall Street. Capitalists in San Francisco 
 were scared out of their boots. Stocks in the 
 most valuable leads went down a thousand per 
 cent. It may have been a very good joke to 
 perpetrate upon the honest miners, but it cer- 
 tainly gave a back-set to Washoe of more than 
 two "years. And now it was hinted that this 
 rattle-brained scribbler, this miserable ink-jerk- 
 er, was about to become a candidate for Con- 
 gress from the Territory of Nevada ! Let him 
 beware of the vengeance of an outraged public ! 
 
684: 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 He had better give Carson, and Silver City, and 
 the Devil's Gate, and Virginia a wide berth in 
 his future travels ! 
 
 Such were a few of the grave considerations 
 under which I surveyed the prospect of revisiting 
 Washoe for you must have already discovered, 
 dear reader, that the writer of these sketches is 
 no other than the disreputable personage above 
 referred to. Held accountable by divers and ex- 
 asperated bodies of men for all the disasters that 
 had occurred on the other side of the mountains 
 during the past three years, and credited by none 
 of the fortunes made, it was due to the great 
 cause of justice that I should go over and set 
 myself right, or gloriously die in the attempt. 
 
 With this much in the way of introduction, I 
 shall proceed to give you a detailed narrative of 
 my experiences, in the course of which it will be 
 seen that various and magical changes have 
 taken place in the mining regions of Washoe. 
 Indeed when I look back at what Virginia City 
 was at the time of my first visit a city of sage- 
 bushes, mud hovels, coyote-holes, gunny-bags, 
 flour-sacks, and tattered blankets, wherein dwelt 
 a population the most motley and incongruous 
 ever gathered together by the force of silver and 
 circumstances when I think of the multifarious 
 ledges then in the progress of development, and 
 see what has since been done, and what prom- 
 ise there is in the future, I feel precisely as Lord 
 Clive did at the bar of the British Parliament 
 astonished at my own moderation. The mar- 
 vel of it is that I carried away so little treasure 
 where thei'e was so much staring me in the face. 
 I wonder how it was I ever told half so, much 
 truth, and left so heavy a balance still to be told. 
 
 In announcing to certain experienced friends 
 my purpose of revisiting Washoe I was some- 
 what startled by such questions as these: Is 
 your neck insured by a responsible company? 
 Are you subject to giddiness in the head? 
 How often have your ribs been broken before ? 
 Are you accustomed to fractures of the legs and 
 arms ? And what provision have you made for 
 the maintenance of your family in case a mis- 
 cellaneous bullet should strike you through the 
 bowels and lodge in your back-bone? Which 
 I understood to mean, in general terms, that a 
 certain per-centage of travelers who went over 
 the grade did so head-foremost, with a stage or 
 two on top of them, 1 and that the state of society 
 in Virginia City had not improved in a moral 
 point of view. 
 
 I was about to hire a private vehicle, when, 
 fortunately, I met a friend who had just come 
 over by the Henness Pass. This gentleman trav- 
 eled in a buggy for comfort and convenience. 
 At a narrow pass on the way he had encount- 
 ered a stage, and to avoid being run over had 
 turned out of the grade, but never stopped turn- 
 ing till himself and his buggy, and the horses 
 that pulled the buggy, together with all his provi- 
 sions, blankets, deeds, mortgages, lists of mines, 
 rolls of assessments, and schedules of dividends 
 were piled in a confused heap at the bottom of 
 a caiion some five hundred feet deep by several 
 
 thousand feet wide. I say this was a fortunate 
 occurrence, as it afforded me good ground for 
 traveling by the ordinary modes of conveyance, 
 which I have generally found to be about as 
 safe as any other. 
 
 Of the trip to Sacramento it is needless to say 
 much. Most people in San Francisco have tried 
 that at least once or twice in their lives. If ever 
 they derived any pleasure from it they accom- 
 plished more than I did. Two hours in a chill- 
 ing wind, during which you partake of a hasty 
 dinner and smoke a cigar, finds you at the Be- 
 nicia wharf, the steamer fretting and fuming 
 with suppressed steam, crowds pouring in and 
 crowds moving out, and a great many people 
 gathered about the premises, without any os- 
 tensible occupation save to be on hand in case 
 something should turn up. When there hap- 
 pens to be no opposition on the line you may 
 escape collision or explosion ; but your chances 
 are very small indeed of ever reaching your des- 
 tination in the event of a rival steamer being 
 on the route. In this country it is a common 
 practice to fight duels with steamboats. Diffi- 
 culties between captains are settled by steam. 
 The boilers are charged to the bursting point, 
 and the hostile parties, accustomed to the use 
 of steamboats from infancy, manage their weap- 
 ons with such skill that an effective crash, ac- 
 companied by the shrieks of maimed and scald- 
 ed passengers, is the usual result. 
 
 Upon entering the Sacramento River the air 
 becomes softer and warmer, and good-natured 
 travelers who have been up and down a great 
 many times point out the trees in which fami- 
 lies of women and children lodged a few years 
 ago when the flood swept away the houses. But 
 many houses still remain, although the effects 
 of the flood are visible all along the banks of 
 the river. 
 
 About midnight the steamer, if she be well 
 freighted, as is generally the case, runs aground 
 on the Hog's Back, and there sticks fast till morn- 
 ing. Passengers who have secured rooms and 
 berths usually avail themselves of the opportuni- 
 ty thus afforded to lay in a supply of sleep for the 
 journey across the mountains ; and passengers 
 who can not procure rooms or berths enjoy the 
 privilege of sitting up in chairs carefully secured 
 to the floors, as a precaution against theft ; or 
 spending the night in the lower saloon at a 
 game of sledge or poker, by which means they 
 usually travel with heavy heads and light pock- 
 ets the next day. The Hog's Back is responsi- 
 ble for a vast deal of trouble. I have seen many 
 hogs in my day, but never so great a bore as this. 
 
 Arrived at length in Sacramento, a hasty 
 breakfast of water bewitched and coffee be- 
 grudged, leathery beef-steak and saleratus slight- 
 ly corrected with flour, refreshes the inner man ; 
 trunks and knapsacks are vindictively hurled 
 into the baggage-car of the Folsom train ; the 
 whistle blows ; the passengers rush frantically 
 into the cars and bestow themselves on the seats 
 without regard to order; and the locomotive 
 frets and fizzes on its iron wav to Folsom. 
 
WASHOE REVISITED. 
 
 685 
 
 I could not perceive that much improvement 
 had taken place on the route, unless, indeed, a 
 few additional bar-rooms be accounted in that 
 light. The town of Folsom itself has grown 
 somewhat within the past four years, in conse- 
 quence of the trade passing through it on the 
 way to Washoe. New brick houses have been 
 built on the main street in the vicinity of the 
 depot, and some pleasant little cottages, em- 
 bowered in flowers and shrubbery, adorn the 
 surrounding slopes. The chief marts of busi- 
 ness, as usual in these inland towns, are the ex- 
 press-offices, clothing-stores, and drinking-sa- 
 loons. Every other house seems to be a house 
 of entertainment, in which the public are feasted 
 on billiards and whisky. Teaming and staging- 
 are the grand features of enterprise in this lively 
 little place, and teamsters and stage-drivers the 
 most prominent public characters. The lan- 
 guage spoken by this class of the population is 
 a mixture of horse, mule, and ox, with a strong 
 human infusion of blasphemy. Something per- 
 haps in the difficulties and vexations that beset 
 their occupation gives them rather a ferocious 
 expression of countenance, and it is not always 
 an easy matter to mollify the asperities of their 
 nature. 
 
 As most passengers desire to get an outside 
 seat, except when it rains, it is highly import- 
 ant that you should proceed at once to secure 
 the favorable consideration of the superintend- 
 ent, who is a gentleman of great suavity and 
 politeness, considering his position. Should 
 you fail in that, I warn you not to climb up on 
 the fore-wheel with any hope of getting the seat 
 of honor alongside the driver ; for whether you 
 be a Munster plenipotentiary or a member of the 
 Common Council he will exercise the right per- 
 taining to his craft order you down, and then 
 enjoy your discomfiture for a distance of ten 
 miles. I have seen respectable men cling to 
 the front railing of stages, with their feet uneas- 
 ily balanced on the fore- wheels, for over half an 
 hour men worth probably fifty thousand dol- 
 lars in stocks and then seen them fail utter- 
 
 ly, miserably, and ingloriously fail to get a 
 seat. I have seen drivers of stages laugh and 
 chuckle by the hour with some sympathizing 
 chum picked up at the last moment ; and I have 
 heard these despotic men say they had a good 
 notion to let every body ride on top, for then 
 the stage would be pretty certain to capsize and 
 break a few legs and arms. Why stage-drivers, 
 who are paid a liberal stipend per month for 
 putting passengers over the public highways, 
 should be so vindictively hostile to the traveling 
 community surpasses my comprehension. 
 
 The scene on the arrival of the cars is quite 
 inspiring. Stages backed up in a long row; 
 prancing horses in front ; swearing and sweat- 
 ing porters, baggage-masters, drivers, and pas- 
 sengers all about and behind ; John Chinamen, 
 with long tails rolled up on the backs of their 
 heads, running distractedly through the crowd 
 in search of their lost bundles ; anxious ladies, 
 prolific in crinoline and gorgeous in silks and 
 satins (the California traveling costume), fret- 
 ting and scolding over crushed bandboxes ; and 
 stern-looking men of an official cast of counte- 
 nance shouting, fiercely, ' ' This way, gents ! 
 'Ere's the place for your baggage ! Bring it 
 along if you want it weighed ; if you don't, it 
 won't go that's all!" And there is the ma- 
 chine that weighs, and there stands the inex- 
 orable gentleman that marks off the weights 
 ten, forty, sixty, ninety pounds per passenger 
 thirty pounds allowed ; all extra baggage twen- 
 ty-five cents per pound. "Fifteen dollars for 
 you, Sir." "Twenty-five for you, Sir." "For- 
 ty-six for you, Madam. " " Seventy-five for you, 
 Miss heavy trunk that, Miss." "Oh dear! 
 oh goodness gracious ! must I pay seventy-five 
 dollars for my trunk ?" "Yes, Miss sorry for 
 it no getting over it." "Oh!" "Quick, if 
 you please, ladies and gents! Stages behind 
 time won't get to Placerville before dark ! " 
 " Your names, gents." "Smith, Jones, Brown, 
 Johnson." "All aboard!" and off goes stage 
 No. 1. "Pile in, gents. Get down from the 
 front seat, you, Sir place engaged. All aboard !" 
 
 DEl'AliTUKE FROM FOLSOM. 
 
HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 and off goes stage No. 2. " Henness ? Placer- 
 ville ? Dammit, why didn't you say so ?" " John- 
 son, Brown, Jones, Smith." " Pitch in, Cap 
 all set!" and stage No. 3 follows through the 
 dusty clouds that cover the road and the hill- 
 sides. And so on till we are all fairly in and 
 off, and looking back, with fervent thanks to 
 Providence that we are clear of the smoke and 
 trouble and turmoil of the railroad depot at 
 Folsom. 
 
 It is always pleasant to make a start ; yet if 
 any body can say the 
 road from Folsom to 
 Placerville is an agree- 
 able road to travel in 
 the early part of Octo- 
 ber, before the autumn 
 showers have com- 
 menced, he must be 
 fond of dust, and ruts, 
 and hills, and plenty of 
 warm sunshine. As for 
 the dust whew ! 
 
 With a gentle breeze 
 behind ; the horses' ears 
 dimly perceptible in 
 front ; curling clouds 
 rising up at every step 
 and imbedding the stage 
 with its sneezing, gasp- 
 ing, suffocating human 
 freight as in a chaotic 
 bank of pulverized earth 
 without top, bottom, or 
 sides ; your face smeared 
 with red, yellow, and 
 black stripes of sweat 
 and rnud ; your nostrils 
 stuffed with a pasty con- 
 glomerate ; your hair turned prematurely gray ; 
 your eyelashes blinking with a feathery fringe- 
 work of native soil ; your lungs surcharged with 
 gold, porphyry, sulphurefs, and all the indica- 
 tions that predominate in a mineral region I 
 say, if you can enjoy this sort of thing, you are 
 fit to travel to Washoe or any other country. 
 You are part and parcel of California, with very 
 nearly your weight in gold. Put through the 
 hydraulic process after your arrival at Placer- 
 ville, and your washings are worth $14 per ounce. 
 Pan you out, and two dollars a pan would be a 
 low estimate of your intrinsic value. In fact I 
 am told the hotel-keepers are growing rich on 
 this single source of profit. Each hotel keeps a 
 kind of sluice or washing arrangement in the 
 back-room, through which the travelers by stage 
 are immediately put on their arrival ; and judg- 
 ing by the accumulations in the bottoms of the 
 basins, I should say every man leaves behind 
 him pay dirt of a very rich quality. For my 
 part, I paid my fare, and positively refused to 
 wash. Why should a man impoverish himself 
 in this way for the benefit of tavern-keepers? 
 His dust is worth as much to himself as it is to 
 any other man, and he certainly has .,the best 
 claim to it. 
 
 m 
 
 KATilEK DUSTY. 
 
 As we heard the cry of 
 Washoe in early times, so we 
 now heard the cry of Reese 
 River. Every body and his 
 uncle, cousin, brother, and 
 son-in-law was gone or going 
 to Reese. The streets and 
 shops of Placerville were 
 crowded with Reese River goods, Reese River 
 wagons, Reese River croppings, and Reese River 
 notices of various kinds. Nothing was dreamed 
 of in the philosophy of the busy multitude but 
 Reese River. 
 
 It was 5 o'clock P.M., just three hours after 
 the usual time, thanks to the Hog's Back, when 
 we took our places on the stages, and girded up 
 our loins for the trip across the mountains. I 
 was the lucky recipient of an outside seat. The 
 seat of honor, by the side of that exalted digni- 
 tary the driver, was accorded me by the "polite 
 and gentlemanly agent." 
 
 The driver was Charlie. Of course every 
 body knows Charlie that same Old Charlie who 
 has driven all over the roads in California, and 
 never capsized any body but himself. On that 
 occasion he broke several of his ribs, or as he 
 expressed it to me, "Bust his sides in." I was 
 proud and happy to sit by the side of Charlie 
 especially as the road was supposed to be a little 
 undulating even by its best friends. Possibly I 
 may have traveled over worse roads than the 
 first ten miles out of Placerville. If so, they 
 must have been in Iceland ; for there are not 
 many quite so bad on the continent of North 
 America. I speak of what the road was at the 
 
WASHOE REVISITED. 
 
 G87 
 
 GOLD DUST. 
 
 close of summer, cut up by heavy teams, a foot 
 deep with dust, and abounding in holes and pit- 
 falls big enough to swallow a thousand stages 
 
 and six thousand horses without inconvenience 
 to itself. There are places, over which we passed 
 after dark, where I am sure the road is three 
 miles wide, and every acre of it a model stage- 
 trap ; where it branches off over hills, and along 
 the sides of hills, and into deep canons, and up 
 hills again; dark, dismal places in the midst of 
 great forests of pine, where the horses seem to 
 be eternally plunging over precipices and the 
 stage following them with a crashing noise, hor- 
 ribly suggestive of cracked skulls and broken 
 bones. But I had implicit confidence in Old 
 Charlie. The way he handled the reins and 
 peered through the clouds of dust and volumes 
 of darkness, and saw trees and stumps and 
 boulders of rock and horses' ears, when I could 
 scarcely see my own hand before me, was a 
 miracle of stage-driving. "Git aeoup !" was 
 the warning cry of this old stager. " Git alang. 
 my beauties !" was the natural outpouring of the 
 poetry that filled his capacious soul. 
 
 " Do many people get killed on this route?" 
 said I to Charlie, as we made a sudden lurch in 
 the dark and bowled along the edge of a fearful 
 precipice. 
 
 "Nary kill that I know of. Some of the 
 drivers mashes 'em once in a while, but that's 
 whisky or bad drivin'. Last summer a few 
 stages went over the grade, but nobody was hurt 
 bad only a few legs'n arms broken. Them 
 was opposition stages. Pioneer stages, as a 
 genrl thing, travels on the road. Git aeoup ! " 
 
 UENEEAL 6MA6H 
 
688 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 OLD CHAKLIE. 
 
 " Is it possible ? Why, I have read horrible 
 stories of the people crushed to death going over 
 these mountains !" 
 
 "Very likely they kill 'em quite lively on 
 the Henness route. Git alang, my beauties ! 
 Drivers only break their legs a little on this 
 route ; that is, some of the opposition boys did 
 it last summer ; but our company's very strict ; 
 they won't keep drivers, as a genr'l thing, that 
 gets drunk and mashes up stages. Git aeoup, 
 Jake ! Git alang, Mack ! 'Twon't pay ; 'tain't 
 a good investment for man nor beast. A stage 
 is worth more'n two thousand dollars, and legs 
 costs heavy besides. You Jake, git !" 
 
 "How in the world can you see your way 
 through this dust?" 
 
 " Smell it. Fact is, I've traveled over these 
 mountains so often I can tell where the road is 
 by the sound of the wheels. When they rattle 
 I'm on hard ground ; when they don't rattle I 
 gen'r'lly look over the side to see where she's 
 agoing." 
 
 "Have you any other signs?" 
 
 "Backer's another sign; when I'm a little 
 skeer'd I chaw more'n ordinary. Then I know 
 the road's bad." 
 
 "Don't you get tired driving over the same 
 road so often?" 
 
 "Well, I do kalklate to quit the business 
 next trip. I'm getting well on in years, you 
 see, and don't like it so well as I used to, afore 
 I was busted in!" 
 
 " How long have you driven stage?" 
 
 "Nigh on to thirty years, an' I'm no better 
 off now than when I commenced. Pay's small ; 
 work heavy; gettin' old; rheumatism in the 
 bones; nobody to look out for used-up stage- 
 drivers ; kick the bucket one of these days, and 
 that's the last of Old Charlie." 
 
 " Why, you must have made plenty of friends 
 during so long a career of staging?" 
 
 " Oh yes, plenty of 'em ; see 'em to-day, gone 
 to-morrow ! Git alang !" 
 
 And so passed the long hours of the night, 
 Charlie and I gossiping pleasantly about the 
 risks and hardships, mysteries and charms of 
 the stage-driving profession. 
 
 All hail to thee, Old Charlie ! Never shall it 
 be said that ingratitude is one of my vices. 
 Here, in the pages of this magazine, your name 
 shall be rescued from oblivion. Sweet and gen- 
 tle ladies shall pay the tribute of admiration to 
 
WASHOE REVISITED. 
 
 689 
 
 your manly features; and honest men shall 
 award you honor, to whom honor is due. For 
 in the vicissitudes of my career have I not found 
 brave and sterling qualities in all classes of men ; 
 heroes whose names are never known ; hearts 
 and souls, human affections, and the fear of God 
 in the bodies of stage-drivers ? 
 
 Thus I think and moralize as we approach the 
 grade. The bad road is at an end. We strike 
 in upon the smooth broad highway, and dash 
 onward with a feeling of absolute relief. The 
 horses' hoofs clatter merrily on the hard, gravel- 
 ly earth. The tall pines form a magnificent 
 avenue through which the moon begins to glim- 
 mer, making a fretwork of silvery light on the 
 backs of our noble animals. 
 
 The approach to the crossing of the American 
 River is indescribably grand. Here the grade 
 takes a downward plunge, and here the scenery 
 becomes truly Alpine. Formerly the descent 
 was made on the right side of the ridge. Won- 
 derful improvements, however, have taken place 
 in the grades of this road during the past few 
 years, chiefly owing to the enterprise of Mr. 
 v Louis M'Lean, President of the Pioneer Stage 
 ^Company. In 1860, as already stated, I traveled 
 over this part of the country on foot, in common 
 with some thousands of adventurers, equally in- 
 dependent of horse-flesh. I then enjoyed the 
 scenery of the American River, for I saw it by 
 the early morning, when the mountains were 
 decked in all the glories of spring; when tor- 
 rents of snow-water burst from every ravine, and 
 fell thundering into the depths below, and limpid 
 springs made a pleasant music over the moss- 
 covered rocks by the way-side; when the sun's 
 rays glimmered through the dripping trees, and 
 the air was fragrant with the odor of wild flow- 
 ers. But I had never till now been impressed 
 with an adequate sense of its beauties. How 
 calm and still the night was ! how exquisitely 
 balmy the air ! how sublime the repose of these 
 grand old mountains! I thought of all the 
 scenes I had witnessed in other countries, yet 
 could not recall any thing to surpass this. There 
 is something in the mystic lights and shades, 
 and the profound solemnity of the night, which 
 lends an awful sublimity to these wild regions. 
 The gigantic forest trees standing in bold out- 
 line on the opposite sides of the mountains, seem 
 to pierce the sky ; and the moonbeams pouring 
 down into the mysterious abyss through which 
 the river dashes, fringe the tops of the pines, as 
 far down as the eye can reach, with a frost-like 
 drapery. Nothing can be more thrilling than 
 the descent of the grade by moonlight. The | 
 road is a magnificent piece of engineering 
 smooth, broad, and beautifully regular. 
 
 Imagine yourself seated in front of the stage, 
 by the side of that genial old whipster, Charlie, 
 who knows every foot of the way, and upon whom 
 you can implicitly rely for the safety of your 
 life and limbs. Holding the reins with a firm 
 hand, and casting a penetrating eye ahead, he 
 cracks his whip, and away go the horses with 
 inspiring velocity six magnificent chestnuts, 
 
 superbly adorned with flowing manes and tails. 
 The stillness of the night is pleasantly broken 
 by their measured tread, and the rattle of the 
 wheels over the gravel echoes through the wild 
 rifts and openings of the canon like a voice from 
 the civilized world telling of human enterprise. 
 Down, and still down, we plunge into the gloomy 
 depths of the abyss ; the ghostly forms of trees 
 looming up on our left ; to the right, rising far 
 beyond the range of vision, the towering heights 
 of the Sierras ; and ever and anon yawning gulfs 
 in front and bottomless pits of darkness still 
 threatening to devour. The road turns and 
 winds like a serpent, sometimes apparently run- 
 ning into a huge bank of granite bouldei-s, then 
 whirling suddenly, and plunging into a shimmer- 
 ing wilderness of rocks and trees, where destruc- 
 tion seems inevitable. Yet onward dash the 
 horses, with an instinct so admirable in its pre- 
 cision that it seems for the time superior to hu- 
 man intelligence. They never swerve from the 
 track ; through the fretwork of light and dark- 
 ness they pursue their way with unrivaled ease 
 and grace ; sweeping around the narrow turns ; 
 now coursing along on the extreme edge of the 
 precipice, or closely hugging the upper bank as 
 the road winds to the right or the left; now 
 plunging down and whirling with marvelous sa- 
 gacity over the narrow bridges that span the 
 ravines, often where there is neither rail nor post 
 to mark the way, ever true to the slightest touch 
 of the reins, and ever obedient to the voice of 
 their driver. Is it a wonder that Old Charlie 
 loves his horses and talks of his teams with a 
 kind of paternal aifection that he knows them 
 by heart, and holds converse with them through 
 the long watches -of the night as with human 
 friends ? 
 
 I have attempted to give some idea of the ro- 
 mantic beauties of these mountain regions and 
 the peculiar wildness of the scenery ; but it must 
 be conceded that nature has not been permitted 
 to lie wholly undisturbed in the immediate vicin- 
 ity of the road. There is probably not an acre 
 of ground, possessing a water privilege, on the 
 entire route betAveen Placerville and Virginia 
 City, which has not been taken up and settled 
 upon by some enterprising squatter or speculator, 
 whose views of the present necessities of trade 
 and the future prosperity of Nevada invest this 
 region of country with an extraordinary value. 
 When I traveled over the road in the spring of 
 '60 there were symptoms of rapid progress. 
 Tents and shanties were springing up all along 
 the way-side ; and if the weary pedestrian could 
 get nothing else, he could at least always be 
 sure of whisky, even where the houses had nei- 
 ther walls nor roofs. If lodgings were scarce 
 bedfellows were plenty ; if there was trouble in 
 keeping the outer man warm there was abund- 
 ance of fuel for the inner man. For this reason, 
 perhaps, it was not an uncommon thing to see 
 the sturdy adventurers who were on their way 
 to the silver regions quite elevated by the time 
 they reached the summit ; and if ever they got 
 sober again, it must have been after they had 
 
C90 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 invested their last dollar in some of those flour- 
 ishing leads which prevailed around Carson and 
 the Devil's Gate. 
 
 The state of things is now very different. 
 Good and substantial taverns, well supplied with 
 provisions, beds, fleas, bugs, etc., to say nothing 
 of the essential article of whisky, are to be met 
 with at intervals of every two or three miles all 
 along the route. Here the stages stop, and here 
 the horses are watered and changed ; and here 
 the drivers and passengers get down and stretch 
 their legs, but as a general thing they don't in- 
 dulge so much in water as the horses. 
 
 As we approached Strawberry, I am free to 
 admit that I became somewhat nervous. A lurk- 
 ing suspicion took possession of me that I was 
 recognized by the driver, Old Charlie ; though I 
 took particular pains to join with him in abusing 
 that vile slanderer Ross Browne, whose Peep at 
 Washoe had aroused the indignation of every 
 publican on the route. Charlie admitted that 
 he had never read any of this fellow's produc- 
 tions, but he believed him to be the Prince of 
 Liars on general principles ; an assertion in which 
 I heartily coincided, with an internal reservation 
 that it was strange how angry it made people to 
 have the truth told about them. "Lord, Lord, 
 Charlie, " said I, handing him a cigar, ' ' how 
 this world is given to lying!" By this time we 
 were at Strawberry, and I saw that I had to face 
 the music. 
 
 The story goes that there was once upon a 
 time a man named Berry, who located a claim 
 in a pleasant little flat about eight miles from 
 the summit of the mountain. Here he set up 
 his shanty, seeing with a prophetic eye that it 
 would soon become an important point for the 
 accommodation of travelers on the way over to 
 Carson. When the people of California were 
 seized with the silver mania, and began to crowd 
 up the slopes of the Sierras with their teams and 
 pack-trains, their picks, shovels, and blankets, 
 Berry's became a great stopping-place, and his 
 house, which he speedily enlarged, a famous re- 
 sort for travelers ; and this Berry soon became 
 a very rich Berry. His dinners were excellent ; 
 his suppers without reproach ; his beds as good 
 as any on the road ; his whisky as sure to kill at 
 any given range as the best Port Townsend; 
 and altogether he was a popular and a flourishing 
 Berry. But as teams crowded around his prem- 
 ises and supplies of hay were cut off by storms 
 and bad roads, he was forced to offer straw to 
 his customers as a substitute for the regular horse 
 and mule feed. Of course he charged hay prices, 
 for even straw has a hay value under certain cir- 
 cumstances. Now the teamsters when they got 
 straw in place of hay waxed unreasonably wroth, 
 and called this excellent old Berry STRAW-BER- 
 RY a name to which let all homage be rendered. 
 By this honored name goes to this day that fa- 
 mous stopping-place known to the traveling pub- 
 lic as Strawberry. 
 
 I deemed it prudent, however, not to avow 
 my name on the occasion of my present visit. 
 It was 10 o'clock when we arrived. Covered 
 
 with dust ; beard, eyebrows, and hair a motley 
 gray; hat, coat, shirt, trowsers, and boots the 
 same color ; face all striped and piebald, I was 
 effectually disguised. If any body was there 
 who had ever seen me before he could not have 
 recognized me now with a microscope. I walked 
 all about the old room with the fire-place fa- 
 miliar, yet changed looked calmly at everybody 
 about the premises, and stood with my back to 
 the five while the 'horses were being changed, 
 with a delightful consciousness of security. In 
 the darkness of night I had escaped Dirty Mike, 
 and now, amidst the curious and penetrating 
 crowd at Strawberry, not a soul knew me ! 
 
 The improvements at Strawberry are not to 
 be slighted. A fine hotel now adjoins the old 
 building ; a telegraph office affords conveniences 
 for stock-jobbing and catching thieves ; hand- 
 some rooms are to be had merely for the asking ; 
 spring beds invite the wayfarer to repose ; the 
 dining-room, billiard saloon, and bar would do 
 credit to Virginia City, or any other civilized 
 community, where men eat, gamble, and drink 
 spirituous liquors ; the out-buildings are numer- 
 ous and capacious ; the stables fit for the most 
 aristocratic horses ; the hay no longer a subject 
 of reproach to man nor beast, the straw as good 
 as ever bore grain Oh, Straw-Berry ! 
 
 " All aboard!" a new voice, a new face, and 
 a new driver. I bade good-by to Charlie, and 
 hoped we might meet again in the next world, 
 if not in this. Once more we are on our way. 
 The road over the mountain from Strawberry 
 has been greatly improved. It is now a mag- 
 nificent highway. Formerly the ascent to the 
 summit was difficult and dangerous. The rise 
 is now so beautifully graded as to be scarcely 
 appreciable. Our horses trotted along briskly 
 nearly the whole way. The scenery becomes 
 weird and stern as we approach the highest al- 
 titude of the Sierras. The trees are scraggy ; 
 the earth is barren and of a whitish cast ; great 
 boulders of rock rear their hoary crests high over 
 the way-side, threatening to topple over and crush 
 all beneath them. Sometimes huge masses of 
 rock seem detached from the main body of the 
 slope or cliff around which the road winds, and 
 balanced on a mere point thousands of tons of 
 solid stone, ready apparently at the slightest vi- 
 bration of the earth or puff of wind to come 
 crashing down upon the stage. At some of 
 these points I deeply sympathized with a gen- 
 tleman from San Francisco, of whom the driver 
 spoke in terms of ridicule. 
 
 "He was so 'fraid them rocks 'ud be shook 
 loose and fall on his head, he kept a dodgin' 
 'em all the time. His hair stood right up like 
 a hog's brussels. Every now and then he was 
 peerin' around for a soft spot of road to jump 
 out on ; an' when he seed he couldn't find it, 
 he held on to the railin' with both hands till his 
 fingers wos all blistered. 'D-d-driver,' sez 
 he, 'd'ye think there's any danger?' 'Dan- 
 ger!' sez I 'ov course there's danger! Sup- 
 posing that 'ere rock was shook loose by the 
 rattlin' ov this 'ere stage what d'ye think 'ud 
 
\VASHOE REVISITED. 
 
 691 
 
 be the consequences ?' 
 
 'I r-r-really can't say,' 
 
 sez he ; ' p-p-possibly it 
 
 \voukl crush the stage!' 
 
 1 No, ' sez I, * it wouldn't 
 
 crush it ; but it 'ud make 
 
 sich a d d squash of 
 
 it that bones wouldn't 
 
 count. Your bones an' 
 my bones, an' the bones 
 ov three passengers above 
 an' four behind an' nine 
 down below, 'ud be all 
 squashed, an' the verdic 
 of Corners Inquest 'ud 
 be 'Eighteen men, six 
 horses, an' a Pioneer 
 Stage squashed by the 
 above stone !' ' D-d-driv- 
 er,' sez he his teeth 
 a-chatterin' like a box 
 o' dice ' is that so ?' 
 'You bet,' sez I, 'the 
 last time I see it done, 
 three ladies an' ten gents 
 from Frisco was squash- 
 ed.' 'Good gracious!' 
 sez he, turnin' as white 
 as a sheet, ' let me down 
 at the next station!' 
 And sure 'miff he got 
 
 down at the next station and made tracks for 
 Frisco. He changed his base he did. Git 
 aeoup !" 
 
 "Is that true, driver?" 
 "True?" and the indignant look with which 
 my friend of the whip resented the question sat- 
 isfied me that it would not be prudent to push 
 my doubts too far so I qualified the inquiry 
 "Is it on the square, I mean ?" 
 
 "Stranger," said he, solemnly, "I don't 
 make a habit o' lyin' ; when I lie I kin lie as 
 good as any body ; but gen'rally speakiu' I'm 
 on the square." 
 
 " Of course that's all right ; that's just what 
 I mean ; you don't usually steer clear of facts 
 when the 'truth is strange stranger than fic- 
 tion.' Won't you take a cigar, driver?" 
 "Don't care if I do." 
 
 And thus the dawning difficulty was amica- 
 bly adjusted. 
 
 Owing to our late start we did not reach the 
 summit before two o'clock. The air at this ele- 
 vation was sharp, though not unpleasantly so. 
 The altitude is estimated at eight thousand feet 
 above the level of the sea. Frost was on the 
 ground, and there was promise of colder nights 
 soon to come. The moon, which had so kindly 
 befriended us during the greater part of our 
 journey to this point, was still shining brightly, 
 shedding its silvery rays over the wilderness of 
 mountains that loomed up around us. The 
 view over Lake Valley was superb. I have 
 seen nothing to surpass it in Switzerland or 
 Norway. Perhaps the finest feature of the 
 whole journey is the descent of the new grade. 
 
 DANGEROUS BOULDERS. 
 
 For a distance of five or six miles the road 
 winds around the sides of the mountains, cross- 
 ing ravines and doubling up occasionally in 
 turns so rapid that the stage seems to run one 
 way and the horses another. Some of these 
 whirling turns reminded me of the flight of an 
 Australian bomerang. As we strike the straight 
 road again the driver gives rein to our spirited 
 animals ; crack goes the whip, and down we 
 plunge over narrow bridges, along the edges of 
 terrific precipices a thousand feet deep, through 
 dark forests of pine and along frowning banks 
 of granite, hewn from the solid bed of the 
 mountain. Despite the ridiculous stories we 
 had heard of accidents and alarms, every pas- 
 senger with a nervous system clings tenaciously 
 to the stage-fixtures, as if determined to follow 
 the stage wherever it might go, and there were 
 moments when we even held our breath to keep 
 up a balance. I flatter myself I saved the lives 
 of the whole party several times by hoisting at 
 the lee rail, and holding my breath hard, while 
 I leaned over on the weather side. It is not 
 comfortable to look down when you are flying 
 along at the rate of ten miles an hour and see 
 no bottom short of a thousand or fifteen hun- 
 dred feet. Yet there is a charm in this dashing, 
 reckless journey by moonlight. The danger is 
 just sufficient to give it a relish. The excite- 
 ment keeps the blood warm ; the fresh mount- 
 ain air invigorates and inspires every faculty; 
 the spirit rises with the rapidity of the motion, 
 and before you get half-way to the valley you 
 find yourself in a condition to sing, shout, or 
 dance. The driver, by whose side I had the 
 
692 
 
 HAMPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 
 SCENE IN THE SIEKRA NEVADA. 
 
 honor to sit, had evidently cultivated his voice 
 for singing ; but unfortunately he knew but one 
 song and of that he remembered but one line 
 
 "When this cruel war is over!" 
 which he sang straight ahead for three hours, 
 commencing at the top of the grade and ending 
 only when relieved by a new driver. Indeed, 
 I am not sure that he ended then, for the last I 
 heard of him he was leaning against a post at 
 the station-house, humming over to himself 
 
 "When this cruel war is over I" 
 and it is not impossible he may be at it yet. 
 The only variety I noticed during the journey 
 was in the form of an interlude as he spoke to 
 the horses, " Git aeoup, Bummers ! Git alang, 
 Rebs! 
 
 "When this and so forth; now git!" 
 
 The song is not bad when you get the whole 
 of it, with a strong chorus ; but a single line of 
 it repeated for a distance of twenty-five miles 
 without a chorus becomes monotonous. 
 
 Whether the monotony of the poetry had a 
 soporific tendency, or loss of rest produced a 
 heaviness in the head, I don't know ; but after 
 the novelty of our fiiyht down the grade had 
 
 [ worn away somewhat, I now and then detected 
 myself in the act of plunging overboard on the 
 backs of the horses, or bobbing into some fright- 
 ful abyss. Once I actually thought I was gone, 
 and received such a shock when I discovered 
 that I had only been asleep, and was still on 
 hand, as to keep me wide awake during the rest 
 of the way to Lake Tahoe. 
 
 This beautiful lake was originally named 
 Bigler, after a distinguished politician, who 
 held the position of Governor of California 
 John Bigler. It was so named by a gentleman 
 who had a high admiration for the name of 
 Bigler. The beauty of the scenery, the crystal 
 clearness of the water, the inspiring purity of 
 the atmosphere filled the soul of Bigler's friend 
 with poetry, and he called this lovely spot Big- 
 ler. It was a just tribute to the popularity 
 of the Governor among his friends ; but no 
 governor on earth can enjoy every man's friend- 
 ship. Bigler had enemies like other governors 
 some because they wanted office and couldn't 
 get it ; others because they wanted a contract 
 and couldn't get it ; and many because they 
 wanted to be governor themselves. When this 
 
WAS HOE REVISITED. 
 
 C93 
 
 distinguished gentleman ceased to be Governor 
 of California he was made a Minister to South 
 America. It was then discovered by both 
 friends and enemies that the name was inap- 
 propriate and lacked euphony ; friends had no- 
 thing more to hope ; enemies nothing more to 
 fear. Who the deuce is John Bigler, said they, 
 that the finest lake in California should be called 
 after him? Let us blot his ugly name off the 
 map and call this beautiful sheet of water Lake 
 Latham or Lake Downey. But here com- 
 menced a squabble between the friends of these 
 eminent gentlemen relative to their respective 
 claims. Latham, it was true, had served with 
 honor in the Custom-house had held the Gu- 
 bernatorial chair for a few weeks, and subse- 
 quently had become United States Senator. 
 But then Downey had vetoed the Bulkhead bill. 
 Pending this difficulty, a hint from some obscure 
 source came very near resulting in the selection 
 of a name that would doubtless have afforded 
 general satisfaction, since it could be claimed 
 by a great many people throughout the State 
 the name of Brown. It was brief, pointed, and 
 popular Lake Brown! But what Brown? 
 There were thirty-six Browns in the Peniten- 
 tiary, besides several more who ought to be 
 there ; and at least forty-four Browns were can- 
 didates for the Legislature or inmates of the 
 Lunatic Asylum ; so that it was difficult to see 
 what Brown would be specially benefited by the 
 compliment. The name itself scarcely present- 
 ed sufficient claims over all other names to be 
 selected merely on account of its euphony. So 
 Brown was dropped ; and between Latham and 
 Downey it was impossible to come to an equita- 
 ble decision. The name of Bigler remained un- 
 molested for several years longer. In due time, 
 when Latham and Downey were both thrown 
 overboard, the discussion of the question was 
 renewed every prominent man in the State 
 claiming that the lake should be named after 
 himself. Finally, as popular sentiment could 
 not fix upon the name of any white man, it 
 gradually settled down in favor of the supposed 
 Indian name Tahoe which was the first word 
 spoken to the discoverer by a solitary digger, 
 whom he encountered upon its shores. "Ta- 
 hoe!" cried the digger; and it was at once as- 
 sumed that "Tahoe" meant "Big Water;" but 
 I am assured by an old settler that "Tahoe" 
 means "Strong Water" in other words, 
 "Whisky" so that this magnificent lake, for- 
 merly called Bigler, is now literally "Lake 
 Whisky!" 
 
 Within the past two years the people of Cali- 
 fornia and Washoe have begun to discover the 
 beauties of this charming region, and its rare 
 advantages as a place of summer resort. Situ- 
 ated in the bosom of the Sierra Nevada mount- 
 ains, 6000 feet above the level of the sea, with 
 an atmosphere of wonderful purity ; abounding 
 in game ; convenient of access, and possessing 
 all the attractions of retirement from the busy 
 world, amidst scenery unrivaled for its romantic 
 beauties, there can be no doubt it will soon be- 
 
 come the grand central point of pleasure and 
 recreation for the people of the Pacific Coast. 
 The water of the lake is singularly clear and 
 blue, and during the warmest months is so cool 
 as to render bathing rather a lively and stimu- 
 lating exercise. It abounds in the finest trout, 
 which supply the markets of Carson and Vir- 
 ginia City, and occasionally furnish a rich treat 
 to the epicures of San Francisco. Fishermen 
 are busily occupied with their nets at intervals 
 along its shores, greatly to the detriment of gen- 
 tlemen who follow in the footsteps of Izaac Wal- 
 ton. An excellent hotel, called the Lake House, 
 has been established at a beautiful and pictur- 
 esque point on the right shore (going toward 
 Virginia), where good accommodations and "all 
 the luxuries of the season" can now be had. 
 Two enterprising Americans, Messrs. Dean and 
 Martin, have recently purchased the premises, 
 with a view of getting up a splendid watering- 
 place in the Atlantic style. Already they have 
 bath-houses, pleasure-boats, riding horses, bil- 
 liard tables, bowling-alleys, and all the conven- 
 iencies for health and recreation. At the time 
 of my visit the house was in process of enlarge- 
 ment. Martin was one of my fellow-pedestri- 
 ans on my first trip across the mountains to 
 Washoe, and I can safely say it would give me 
 great pleasure to hear of his success in this en- 
 terprise. He is a clever, genial fellow, a first- 
 rate traveling companion, and an upright, hon- 
 est man. To dyspeptics, consumptives, and 
 broken-down stock-brokers I have a word of ad- 
 vice to offer : If you want your digestive appa- 
 ratus put in complete order, so that brickbats 
 will stick to your ribs without inconvenience, 
 spend a month with my friend Martin ; if your 
 bronchial tubes distress you, swallow a few thou- 
 sand gallons of Lake Tahoe air, and you can 
 blow bellows blasts from your lungs forever aft- 
 er ; if your nervous system is deranged by bad 
 speculations in stocks, bowl nine-pins and row 
 one of Martin's boats for six weeks, and I ven- 
 ture to affirm stocks will rise a thousand per 
 cent. It is all a matter of health in the long- 
 run ; with good digestion and a sound nervous 
 system there is no trouble in life ; and for these 
 ends there is no place like Tahoe. 
 
 From the first hour after leaving Placerville 
 we passed along the road-side numerous teams 
 and trains of wagons, most of which were group- 
 ed together under the trees, or in front of the 
 station-houses, in the old-fashioned camp style. 
 I commenced a rough calculation of the num- 
 ber of wagons, but soon gave it up as a hopeless 
 task. It seemed to me that there were enough 
 i of them, big and little, to reach all the way over 
 the mountain. At the least calculation we must 
 have passed two or three hundred. Every wag- 
 on was heavily freighted some with merchan- 
 dise, others with iron castings for the mills, and 
 quite a goodly number with families, fruit, whis- 
 ky, and furniture. There were horse-teams, 
 and mule-teams, and ox-teams. I never before 
 saw so many teams on one road. No wonder 
 the dust was pretty deep ! 
 
G94 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 "Are you going back to the States ?" said I, 
 to a Pike County man, with a wagon-load of 
 wife and children, beds, chairs, and cooking 
 utensils. "No, Sir," said he, turning the quid 
 in his leathery jaw, "you bet I ain't! I'm 
 bound for Reese ! After I make my pile thar, a 
 keeping of a tavern, I'll steer for Californy agin 
 it's good enough a country for me." " Why 
 did you leave it ?" I asked. " Wa'al," said the 
 poor fellow, wiping the dust from his face with 
 the back of his hand, " that's more'n I know. 
 'Twarn't my fault. The old 'oman was high for 
 feet. She said we were fools for a tinkerin' on 
 our little farm down thar, when every body was 
 makin' fortunes in Reese. She's tolerable peert 
 the old 'oman is. Oh, she's on it, you bet ! " 
 "Well, I wish you luck!" "Thank yer," 
 drawled Pike ; ' ' what mout yer name be, stran- 
 ger ?" " My name ? ahem is John. " The 
 man looked hard at me ; turned the quid once 
 more in his leathery jaw ; squirted out a copious 
 stream of juice, and, without changing in the 
 slightest degree the gravity of his countenance, 
 said, " Mine's Job ;" and then went to work un- 
 hitching his horses. This was the last I saw of Job. 
 
 The camp scenes 
 along the way-side were 
 lively and picturesque. 
 I enjoyed them with a 
 peculiar zest after three 
 years of travel through 
 the deserts of civiliza- 
 tion in Europe. Here 
 was life reduced to its 
 primary elements-* here 
 were accommodations 
 cheap, roomy, and gor- 
 geously furnished ; here 
 was comfort fit for poet, 
 artist, or any other man 
 of a naturally sound and 
 barbarous taste ; here 
 were food and fire with- 
 out stint, and fresh air 
 to an unlimited ex- 
 tent ; and holes enough 
 through the tops of the 
 trees to let the smoke 
 out ; and neither com- 
 missioners nor waiters 
 to stand behind and ad- 
 mire your style of eat- 
 ing. Who is there so 
 depraved as not to yearn 
 for the heavenly joys of 
 a camp-life in the wil- 
 derness ? Just take a 
 side-peep at that mer- 
 ry group of teamsters I 
 Uncouth and unsenti- 
 mental they may be ; 
 tired and hungry after 
 their hard day's work 
 they doubtless are ; but 
 did you ever see a hap- 
 pier looking set of A'aga- 
 
 bonds ? Their faces, despite the dust and grime 
 that besmear them, absolutely shine in the cheery 
 light of the big log fire ; they sniff the steaming 
 stew that simmers in the pot with sympathetic 
 unction ; they sit and loll upon their mother- 
 earth in exquisite unconsciousness of dirt ; they 
 spin their yarns of the day's adventures with 
 many a merry burst of laughter ; and now, as 
 they fall to work and devour the savory mess 
 before them, what need have they for dinner- 
 pills? Hunger is their sauce fresh air and 
 exercise their medicine. Oh, the jolly rascals! 
 How I envy them their camp life ! 
 
 On second thoughts I don't know that they 
 are to be envied in every particular. As to the 
 daily part of their occupation driving ox and 
 mule teams over the Sierras; swallowing dust 
 and alkali on the plains ; pushing, pulling, 
 sweating, and swearing at their stubborn ani- 
 mals, and navigating their heavy wagons over 
 bad roads from one month's end to another I 
 can't conscientiously envy them. Sooner than 
 follow mule or ox driving as a profession, I 
 think I'd profess politics for a living which I 
 consider the last resort of a worthless man. 
 
WASHOE REVISITED. 
 
 Yet I must confess 
 the trip to Washoe has, 
 to me at least, lost 
 much of its original 
 charm. No longer is 
 the way variegated by 
 long strings of pedes- 
 trians, carrying their 
 picks, shovels, and 
 blankets upon their 
 backs; no longer are 
 the stopping -places 
 crowded every night 
 with two or three hun- 
 dred millionaires re- 
 joicing in empty pock- 
 ets and brimming 
 heads ; no longer are 
 the wild mountain pass- 
 es enlivened by gro- 
 tesque scenes of sad- 
 dle-trains and passen- 
 gers struggling through 
 the mud and snow ; it 
 is all now a regular and 
 well-established line of 
 travel too civilized to 
 be interesting in any 
 great degree, and too 
 convenient to admit of 
 those charming discom- 
 forts which formerly 
 afforded us so much 
 amusement. The busi- 
 ness man who now 
 leaves San Francisco 
 at 4 P.M. is deposited 
 at Virginia City by 10 
 o'clock the next night 
 just thirty-six hours' 
 
 traveling time. Fancy how the emigrants who 
 crossed these mountains prior to 1860 would 
 have stared at the bare suggestion of such a feat 
 as this ! If we are behind the times in railroads, 
 it is certain there is no such country in the world 
 for feats of horse-flesh as California. The length 
 of our stage-routes, the rapidity with which we 
 travel on them, and the facilities afforded by our 
 expresses, would astonish the humdrum people 
 of the Atlantic States, if they had the faintest 
 idea of the difficulties to be overcome in carry- 
 ing such enterprises into effect in a wild coun- 
 try like ours. 
 
 A new road now winds along the shores of 
 Lake Tahoe. This part of the trip will com- 
 pare favorably with a journey along the shores 
 of Como. At the Point of Rocks the scene is 
 equal to any thing of the kind to be found in 
 Europe. The road is cut through the brow of 
 the cliff, and for a distance of several hundred 
 feet is supported by massive timbers. To the 
 left the clear blue waters of the lake glimmer 
 through forests of towering pine ; to the right 
 is a colossal tower of rocks, presenting a front 
 like some grand old fortress built by an antedi- 
 luvian race of giants. A rough and very hasty 
 
 POINT OF ROCKS, LAKE TAIIOE. 
 
 sketch was all I could get of this remarkable 
 point. 
 
 Leaving the lake at the Glenbrook Station, 
 we begin to ascend the last of the Sierra Ne- 
 vada " divides," and, after a heavy pull and long 
 descent, enjoy a fine view of the pretty little 
 town of Carson. An hour more, and we are 
 safely landed at the Express office of Wells, 
 Fargo, and Co., from which point we can diverge 
 to any number of bad hotels. By selecting the 
 worst you will possibly not be disappointed. 
 
 Carson City has enjoyed a very wholesome 
 kind of prosperity since my first visit, if I might 
 be allowed to judge by a casual glance at the 
 new buildings around the plaza and the many 
 pleasant residences in the suburbs. The ple- 
 thoric condition of the stock market in San 
 Francisco, and the fact that capital had been 
 pouring through the various passes of the Sier- 
 ras into Washoe, had led me to expect that 
 wonderful improvements must be the result. 
 Nor was I disappointed. The number of drink- 
 ing saloons in Carson City, and in fact all along 
 the route, manifested in a remarkable degree 
 the rapid progress of civilization. The splendid 
 stone Penitentiary, situated a couple of miles 
 
696 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 from Carson, presented another striking evidence 
 
 of moral advancement. But [Here a 
 
 page or two of manuscript is wanting, which ap- 
 parently related to Carson City. EDITOR.] In 
 my next paper I shall speak of Virginia City, 
 
 and of my third and last visit there in August, 
 1864, together with an unvarnished account of 
 my reception by the citizens ; and furthermore, 
 of my own most disastrous experiences as a lec- 
 turer in that region. 
 
 STATION ON THE WASHOE KOAD. 
 
 CHILDLESS. 
 
 HE is dead, and in his grave, And we returned ; in his old place 
 
 In yonder town, where wind and wave Not meeting with him, face to face, 
 So must I forever rave. I cease to love the living race. 
 
 I saw his coffin sliding down 
 The yellow sand in yonder town, 
 Then I felt my childless crown. 
 
 One morn I kissed him in his bed; 
 
 A moment after, this was said, 
 
 " Your child is dying he is dead !" 
 
 Some one watched the crowded way, 
 Tor him who left his boy that day, 
 Saying, "Love, I will not stay." 
 
 What misery to see him fall 
 Beside that bed, and hear him call 
 The darling dead his all in all! 
 
 The boy was ready for his rest, 
 Flowers in his hair, and on his breast 
 His little hands together pressed. 
 
 By night we sailed across the sea, 
 So floating from the world to be, 
 Apart from human speech, we three. 
 
 The blue sea sang, the full moon spread 
 Her glory with the sunset-red ; 
 But one of us lay midships dead! 
 
 But somewhere, just beyond my sight, 
 He is; between us a strange light 
 Trembles, and hides him day and night. 
 
 Mothers, who mourn alone to-day, 
 You understand me when I say 
 I do not weep, I do not pray. 
 
 And when about my work I go 
 Your woman's work I do not show 
 The occupation I bestow 
 
 On him ; I live the precious days 
 He lived, conning his pretty ways, 
 And give him late, remorseful praise. 
 
 I seek my punishment again ; 
 I love to bear the cruel pain, 
 Which makes me feel both loss and gain. 
 
 To stare upon that sacred store, 
 
 His books, his toys, the clothes he wore, 
 
 And mutter, "Could he come once more! 
 
 Then take from me my simple verse, 
 Rambling, perhaps, as I rehearse 
 This grief your and my universe. 
 
Sh % : 
 
 No. CLXXXI. 
 
 JUNE, 1865. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUARE, NEW YORK.