This is a modern-English version of California illustrated : including a description of the Panama and Nicaragua routes, originally written by Letts, J. M. (John M.). It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling, and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.

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C. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF C. W. LEWIS III NASSAU ST. N.Y. PART OF SAN FRANCISCO, from a sketch by G. W. Casilear

CALIFORNIA ILLUSTRATED:

INCLUDING

A DESCRIPTION

OF THE

PANAMA AND NICARAGUA ROUTES.

BY

A RETURNED CALIFORNIAN.

New York:
WILLIAM HOLDREDGE, PUBLISHER,
NO. 140 FULTON STREET.

1852.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852,

BY J. M. LETTS,

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York.

E. O. JENKINS, PRINTER AND STEREOTYPER,
No. 114 Nassau Street, New York.

TO

Miss Hetta P. Letts,

OF

Wood Lawn, Staten Island,

THIS JOURNAL

IS

Most Respectfully Dedicated,

BY

THE AUTHOR.

Note to the Reader.

I have, in these pages, endeavored to convey a correct impression, I have stated such facts only as I knew to be facts, and interspersed them with incidents that fell under my own observation. A season’s residence in the mineral regions enabled me to obtain a correct interior view of life in California. The illustrations are truthful, and can be relied upon as faithfully portraying the scenes they are designed to represent. They were drawn upon the spot, and in order to preserve characteristics, even the attitudes of the individuals represented are truthfully given. The first part of this volume is written in a concise manner, with a view to brevity, as the reader is presumed to be anxious to make the shortest possible passage to the Eldorada.

I have, in these pages, tried to provide an accurate impression. I’ve stated only those facts that I know to be true and included incidents that I personally observed. Spending a season in the mineral regions allowed me to get an accurate interior view of life in California. The illustrations are realistic and can be trusted to faithfully represent the scenes they depict. They were drawn on-location, and to capture the characteristics, even the poses of the individuals shown are accurately represented. The first part of this volume is written concisely, aiming for brevity, as the reader is assumed to be eager to make the quickest possible journey to Eldorado.

THE AUTHOR.

Contents.

	Page
CHAPTER FIRST.—Sail from New York—Our Pilot leaves us—Land recedes from View—Sea-Sickness—A Whale—Enter the Gulf Stream—Encounter a Gale—Enter the Tropic of Cancer—“Land, ho!”—Caycos and Turk’s Islands—St. Domingo—Cuba—Enter the Caribbean Sea—Sporting—Sunday—Standing in for the Port of Chagres—Beautiful Scene—Drop Anchor,	9
CHAPTER SECOND.—Natives and “Bungoes”—Crescent City arrives—We sail into the mouth of the River—Prepare for a Fight—Fashions and Fortifications—An honest Alcalde—Non-fulfillment of Contracts,	13
CHAPTER THIRD.—First Attempt at Boat building—Excitement on “’Change”—A Launch and Clearance—The Crew—A Mutiny—Quelled—Poor Accommodations—A Night in Anger—An Anthem to the Sun—Nature in Full Dress,	16
CHAPTER FOURTH.—Breakfast—Primitive Mode of Life—Meet the Orus—Mutiny and Rain—A Step backward—Encampment—A fortified and frightened Individual—Sporting—Mosquitos,	20
CHAPTER FIFTH.—First Rapid—An Unfortunate Individual—A Step Backward—Several Individuals in a State of Excitement—Tin Pans not exactly the thing—A Breakfast Extinguished—Sporting—Monkey Amusements—A Flash in the Pan—Two Feet in our Provision Basket—Poverty of the Inhabitants and their Dogs—Arrival at Gorgona,	23
CHAPTER SIXTH.—Customs and Dress of the Nobility—A Suspicious Individual—Journey to Panama—A Night Procession—A wealthy Lady in “Bloomer”—An Agreeable Night Surprise—“Hush” on Horseback—Captain Tyler shot—A Mountain Pass at Night—Thunder Storm in the Tropics,	27
CHAPTER SEVENTH.—Panama—Cathedral and Convents—Religious Ceremonies—Amalgamation—Fandango,	33
CHAPTER EIGHTH.—Bay of Panama—Islands—Soldiers—Arrival of $1,000,000 in Gold and Silver—A Conducta—“Bungoes” “up” for California—Wall Street Represented—Sail for San Francisco—Chimborazo—Cross the Equator—A Calm—A Death at Sea,	37
CHAPTER NINTH.—Stand in for San Francisco—Indications of Land—The Coast—Enter the “Golden Gate”—Inner Bay—San Francisco—Lumps of Gold—Notes of Enterprise—Surrounding Scene—Gambling,	44
CHAPTER TENTH.—The “Hounds”—Villainy—Indignation Meeting—Vigilance Committee,	51
CHAPTER ELEVENTH.—Start for the Mineral Regions—Banks of the Sacramento River—Shot at—Gold versus Mica—Sutterville—Primitive Mode of Life—Sacramento City—An Individual who had “seen the Elephant,”	56
CHAPTER TWELFTH.—Sutter’s Fort—A Herd of Cattle—“Lassoing”—Rio de los Americanos—A Disappointed Hunter—A Californian Serenade—A Mule and his Rider—Parting Company—Thirst—Serenades supported by Direct Taxation—Sierra Nevada,	63
CHAPTER THIRTEENTH.—Venison—First View of the Gold Regions—Surrounding Scenery—“Mormon Bar”—A Pocket—My Machine in Motion—Certainty of Success—First Dinner—“Prospecting”—A Good “Lead”—Disappointed Miners—A New Companion—A Higher Point on the River—Volcanoes—Snowy Mountain—Auburn—Lonely Encampment,	70
CHAPTER FOURTEENTH.—A Sea Captain as Cook—A Herd of Deer—Return to Mormon Bar—Keeping House—Our Machine in Motion—$1,500 in One Hour—An Elopement—Wash Day—Sporting—Prospecting—Discovery of Gold—Excitement—Fatigue—The Cakes “hurried up”—Incentives to Exertion—Canalling a Bar,	80
CHAPTER FIFTEENTH.—Start for Sacramento City—The “Niagara Co.”—Frederick Jerome—A Love Chase—Heroine under a Blanket—Suspicious Boots—Part of a Lady’s Hat found—A Ball—Arrival at Sacramento City—Poor Accommodations—Return to the Interior—A Chase—A New York Merchant—Beals’ Bar—Embark in Trade—A Mountaineer—Indian {vi}Characteristics,	87
CHAPTER SIXTEENTH.—The Mormons—The attempted Murder of Gov. Boggs—Canalling Mormon Bar—False Theories in reference to Gold Deposits—Influence of Amasa Lyman, “the Prophet”—Exciting Scene—Jim returns—A Monte Bank “Tapped”—Jim’s Advent at Sacramento City,	95
CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH.—False Reports and their Influences—Daily Average—Abundance of Gold—Original Deposit—“Coyotaing”—Sailors—Their Success and Noble Characteristics—Theatrical Tendencies—Jack in the After-Piece—Miners on a “Spree”—The Wrong Tent,	101
CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH.—Arrivals—Preparation for the Rainy Season—New Discoveries—Coloma—Gamblers versus Bayonets—“Hangtown”—Public Executions—Fashionable Entertainments—Wild Cattle—Dangerous Sporting—Murdered Indians—The Wrongs they suffer,	107
CHAPTER NINETEENTH.—Canalling operations—Unsuccessful Experiments—Coffee-Mills and Gold Washers—Formation of Bars—Gold removed from the Mountains during the Rainy Season—Snow on the Mountains, and its Dissolution—Rise and Fall of the River—Stock Speculations—Quicksilver Machines—Separation of Gold and Quicksilver—Individual Enterprise—Incentives to Exertion—Expenses,	113
CHAPTER TWENTIETH.—Commotion in the Political Elements—California a State—Slavery Prohibited—Political Campaign, and the Rainy Season—Speech of a Would-be-Governor—Enthusiasm and Brandy—Election Districts—Ballot-Boxes and Umbrellas—Miners in a Transition State—Preparations for the Rainy Season—Primitive Habitations—Trade Improving—Advent of the Rainy Season—Its Terrific Effects—Rapid Rise of the River—Machines destroyed—Arrivals—My Store and Bed—A Business Suit—Distressing Groans—The Bottle a Consolation—Several Strange Specimens of Humanity cooking Breakfast—The Scurvy—A Death,	118
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST.—Dangerous Navigation—A Trip over the Falls—A Night from Home—Sailor Hospitality—Scarcity of Provisions—A Hazardous Alternative—A Wayward Boy—Preparations for leaving the Interior—Distribution of Effects—Our Traveling Suit—Start for San Francisco—Farewell—Three Individuals under a Full Head of Steam—Arrival at the “Half-Way Tent”—Poor Accommodations—A Morning Walk and Poor Breakfast—Wading Lagoons—Wild Geese—Arrival at the American River—Our Toilet, and entry into Sacramento City,	123
CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND.—A Dry Suit—Restaurants—Waiters and Champagne-Two Individuals “Tight”—A $10 Dinner—Monte Banks and Mud—Gambling and its Results—Growth of Sacramento City—Unparalleled Prosperity—A Revulsion and its Cause—The Flood,	130
CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD.—Sail for San Francisco—A Fleet—Mud—Prosperity—Ships and Storehouses—Buoyant Seas—Shoals in Business—Revulsion and Fire—Their Consequences—Sail for Santa Barbara—The Town—Dexterous Feat by a Grizzly Bear—Fashions—Sail for St. Lucas—Porpoises and Sea Fowls—Their Sports—Approach the town—Peculiar Sky—Caverns in the Sea—Cactus—Beautiful Sea Shells—Sail for Acapulco—Magnificent Scenery—Volcanos and Cascades—Volcanos at Night—Eternal Snow,	134
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH.—Acapulco—The Tree of Love—Bathing and Females—A Californian in a Tight Place—Earthquakes—Sail for Realejo—Volcano Viejo—Its Devastating Eruption—Realejo and Harbor—A Cart and its Passengers—A Wall-street Financier fleeced—Chinandega—Its beautiful Arbors—Bathing—Preparing Tortillos—Leon—Its magnificence and desolation—Don Pedro Vaca and Family,	142
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIFTH.—A Problem in Mathematics worked out with a Cane—Pueblo Nueva—Cultivating the Acquaintance of a Horse—Looking for the Rider—An “Old Salt” stuck in the Mud—Uncomfortable Night’s Rest—Nagarotes—Lake Leon and the surrounding Volcanos—Matares—Delightful Country—Managua—Don Jose Maria Rivas—Nindaree—Ruins of a Volcano—A Long Individual in Spurs—A Dilemma—One of my Horse’s Legs in motion—A Boy in a Musical Mood—Entry into Massaya—Bloomerism,	151
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXTH.—Massaya—The Carnival—Female Labors—Gourds—Maidens consigned to a Volcano—A Donkey “non est”—Ox versus Donkey—Same Medicine prescribed—Lake Nicaragua—Grenada—A “Priest” in a Convent—“Our” Horse—A Group of Islands—Cross the Lake—Mr. Derbyshire’s Plantation—Breakfast—Bullocks stepping on Board—Sail for San Carlos—Magnificent Scene—A Hymn of Thanks—A Mountain City—Gold Mines—Arrival at San Carlos—Custom House Regulations repudiated,	157
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENTH.—Passage down the San Juan River—Castilian Rapids—The “Director”—Arrival at San Juan—Boarded by a Posse of Negroes—British Protectorate—Philanthropy of Great Britain—Her Magnanimous and Disinterested Conduct towards the Nations of the Earth—Nicaragua graciously remembered—A Hunt for a Sovereign—A Full-Grown King Discovered—His Diplomacy—Invincibility—Amusements and Coronation—His First Pair of Pantaloons—Hail “King of the Mosquito Coast”!!!—All hail, Jamaca I.!!!—“Hear! hear!!!”	163
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTH.—Sail for Home—Pass the “Golden Gate”—Sad Condition {vii}of the Passengers—Graves at the Base of the Snowy Mountains—Land Recedes—Luxuries on Board—A Death and Burial—Another Death—Whales and Porpoises versus Serpents of Fire—Thunder Storm—Death of Dr. Reed—Three Dead Bodies found on Board—The Scurvy—Five of the Passengers Insane—Evils of the Credit System—A Cultivated Mind deranged—Memory lost—Its Cause—The Victim upon the Verge of Death—Harpooning Porpoises—Exciting Sport,	169
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINTH.—Cloud and Clipperton Islands—Whales, Sharks, Porpoises, and Dolphins—A Shark captured—Shark Steak—“Caudle Lecture”—Death of Samuel B. Lewis—A Calm—Foot Races by the Ship’s Furniture—Passenger Peculiarities—Short of Provisions—“'Bout Ship”—First of January—Its Luxuries at Sea—A Tame Sea Fowl—A Passenger Dying—A Shark—A delightful Evening Scene—A Death—Burial at Sea by Candle Light—A Turtle navigating the Ocean—His suspicious conduct—A written Protest against the Captain—Cocus Island—Capturing “Boobies,”	175
CHAPTER THIRTIETH.—Intense Heat—Human Nature as exhibited by the Passengers—Danger, not apprehended—A Tattler—A “Dutch Justice”—“Long Tom Coffin”—A Quaker Hat—An Individual running Wild—His Oaths, Depredations, Musical Accomplishments, Showman Propensities, and Pugilistic Developments—“Blubber,” Buckskin, and “The Last Run of Shad”—A capsized Whale Boat—Thrilling Sensation—Harpoon used—A Shark—“Land ho!”—Gulf of Panama—South American Coast—“Sail ho!”—Dolphin for Dinner—A Whale—A Terrific Gale—Our Sails and Spars carried away,	180
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIRST.—Bay of Panama—Its Beauties—Tropical Fruits—The City in sight—Excitement on Board—Appearance of the City—Her Ruins—Preparations to Drop Anchor—“Stand by!”—“Let go the Anchor!”—Farewell to the Sick—A Perilous Ride on the Back of an Individual—On Shore—First Dinner—Nothing left—An Individual feeling comfortable—Panama Americanized—A Moonlight Scene viewed from a Brass “Fifty-Six”—A Dilapidated Convent as seen at Night—Church Bells—Burning the Dead—Exposure of the Desecrated Remains—Sickening and Disgusting Sight—Infants cast into Pits—The Rescue of their Souls requiring a Gigantic Effort on the part of the Church—A Catacomb—“Eternal Light”—Ignorance of the Mass—Peerless Characteristics,	184
CHAPTER THIRTY-SECOND.—A Nun—Fandango—Marriage Engagement broken—Start for Gorgona—Our Extreme Modesty—Sagacity of the Mule—Sleep on my Trunk—A Dream—An Alligator with a Moustache—Infernal Regions—Demons—An Individual with Long Ears, and a Mule in Boots—Falling out of Bed—Funeral Procession—Gorgona—Start for Chagres—Our Bungo Full—Spontaneous Combustion, almost—“Poco Tiempo”—Lizards for Dinner—The Hostess—Gatun—Music of the Ocean—Arrival,	190
CHAPTER THIRTY-THIRD.—Chagres, its Growth—Getting on board the Empire City—Magnificent Steamer—Gold Dust on board—Steamers Alabama, Falcon, Cherokee, and Severn—My friend Clark arrives on board—Preparations for Starting—Our Steamer makes her First Leap—“Adios”—Caribbean Sea—Heavy Sea on—Jamaica—Port Royal—Kingston—“Steady!”—Beautiful Scene—Orange Groves—People flocking to the Shore—Drop Anchor—The Town—General Santa Anna’s Residence—“Coaling up”—Parrot Pedler in a Dilemma,	196
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOURTH.—Our Wheels revolve—The Natives of the Island Extinct—The Wrongs they have suffered—The Island once a Paradise—San Domingo, her Mountains—Cuba—A Shower Bath Gratis—“Sail ho!”—Caycos Island and Passage—Turtle for Dinner—A Sermon—Gallant Conduct of our Steamer—We ship a Sea—A Spanish Vessel in Distress—Our Tiller Chains give way—A Knife and Fork in search of Mince Pies—Gulf Stream—Water-Spouts—“Light Ship”—Sandy Hook—Anxiety—Sight of New York—Feelings and Condition of the Passengers—A Sad Fate—Aground—A new Pilot—Again under weigh—Near the Dock—Death—Man Overboard—Make Fast—At Home—One Word to those about to embark,	201
Constitution of the State of California,	207

{viii}

{9}

CALIFORNIA ILLUSTRATED,

INCLUDING A DESCRIPTION OF THE

PANAMA AND NICARAGUA ROUTES.

Panama and Nicaragua routes.

Chapter First.

SAIL FROM NEW YORK—OUR PILOT LEAVES US—LAND RECEDES PROM VIEW—SEA-SICKNESS—A WHALE—ENTER THE GULF STREAM—ENCOUNTER A GALE—ENTER THE TROPIC OF CANCER—“LAND, HO!”—CAYCOS AND TURK’S ISLANDS—ST. DOMINGO—CUBA—ENTER THE CARIBBEAN SEA—SPORTING—SUNDAY—STANDING IN FOR THE PORT OF CHAGRES—BEAUTIFUL SCENE—DROP ANCHOR.

SAIL FROM NEW YORK—OUR PILOT LEAVES US—LAND FADES FROM VIEW—SEASICKNESS—A WHALE—ENTER THE GULF STREAM—RUN INTO A GALE—REACH THE TROPIC OF CANCER—“LAND, HO!”—CAYCOS AND TURK’S ISLANDS—ST. DOMINGO—CUBA—ENTER THE CARIBBEAN SEA—HAVING FUN—SUNDAY—HEADING FOR THE PORT OF CHAGRES—BEAUTIFUL SCENE—DROP ANCHOR.

Dear reader:—If you have visited California, you will find nothing in these pages to interest you; if you have not, they may serve to kill an idle hour. On the 27th of January, 1849, having previously engaged passage, I had my baggage taken on board the bark “Marietta,” lying at Pier No. 4, East River, preparatory to sailing for Chagres, en route to California. It was 9, A.M. A large concourse of friends and spectators had collected on the pier to witness our departure, and after two hours of confusion and excitement, we let go our hawser—and, as we swung around into the stream, received the last adieus of our friends on shore. We were taken in tow by a steam-tug, and were soon under way, our bowsprit pointing seaward. We occupied our time, while running down the bay, in writing notes to our friends, our pilot having kindly volunteered to deliver them. We passed Forts Hamilton and Diamond at 1, P.M., and at three had made Sandy Hook. Our pilot’s boat, which had been laying off, came along side to receive him; we gave our last thoughts into his charge, and bade him adieu.{10}

Hey there:—If you've been to California, you won't find anything in these pages that interests you; if you haven't, they might help pass an hour. On January 27, 1849, after booking my passage, I had my luggage loaded onto the bark "Marietta," docked at Pier No. 4, East River, in preparation for sailing to Chagres, en route to California. It was 9, A.M. A large crowd of friends and spectators had gathered on the pier to see us off, and after two hours of chaos and excitement, we released our hawser—and as we turned into the stream, we received our friends' last farewells from the shore. We were towed by a steam-tug and were soon on our way, with our bowsprit facing the open sea. We spent our time while making our way down the bay writing notes to our friends, with our pilot kindly offering to deliver them. We passed Forts Hamilton and Diamond at 1, P.M., and by three, we had reached Sandy Hook. Our pilot's boat, which had been waiting off to the side, came alongside to pick him up; we entrusted our last thoughts to him and said our goodbyes.{10}

We had now passed Sandy Hook, and putting our helm down, we stood away to the South. The wind being light, we bent on studding sails, and were soon making our course at the rate of five knots. The excitement had now subsided; and, as the hills were fast receding, we were most painfully admonished that we were leaving home and friends. We soon sunk the highest points of land below the horizon, and felt that we were fairly launched upon the ocean, and that we were traveling to a scene of adventure, the result of which no one could divine. We felt that sinking of spirit one only feels on such occasions; and, at this particular time, clouds as dark as night hung in the horizon of the future. Night came on, and with it a stiff breeze, creating a heavy sea. This caused most of the passengers to forget their friends, and bestow their undivided care upon themselves.

We had just passed Sandy Hook, and as we turned the wheel, we headed south. With a light wind, we set up the studding sails and quickly picked up speed to five knots. The initial excitement had faded, and as the hills disappeared in the distance, we were painfully reminded that we were leaving home and friends behind. Soon, we lost sight of the highest land, realizing we were truly on our way out to sea, heading into an unknown adventure. We experienced that sinking feeling that comes in moments like these; at that time, dark clouds loomed ahead, making the future seem bleak. Night fell, bringing a strong wind that whipped up a heavy sea. This made most of the passengers forget their friends and focus solely on themselves.

For some cause, at this particular juncture, the passengers were affected with peculiar sensations, mostly in the region of the stomach. They did not think it was sea-sickness. Whatever the cause may have been, the effect was most distressing. It assumed an epidemic form. The symptoms were a sickening sensation and nausea at the stomach; the effect, distressing groans and copious discharges at the mouth. The captain felt no alarm; said he had had similar cases before on board his ship. The night was spent in the most uncomfortable manner imaginable. Many of the passengers, too sick to reach their berths, were lying about on deck, and at every surge would change sides of the vessel. All being actuated by the same impulse, performed the same evolutions.

For some reason, at that moment, the passengers were experiencing strange feelings, mostly in their stomachs. They didn’t think it was seasickness. Whatever the cause was, the effect was really upsetting. It spread like an epidemic. The symptoms included a queasy feeling and nausea in the stomach; the result was distressing groans and excessive vomiting. The captain wasn’t worried; he said he’d seen similar cases before on his ship. The night was spent in the most uncomfortable way imaginable. Many of the passengers, too sick to make it to their beds, were scattered around on deck, and with every wave, they would shift sides of the vessel. All driven by the same impulse, they performed the same movements.

With the dawn of the 28th, the wind lulled, and our canvas was again spread to a three knot breeze. At noon we took our first observation, and at evening passed a ship, although not within speaking distance. The dawn of the 29th is accompanied by a seven-knot breeze, and we stand away on our course with all sail set. At 3 P.M., we were saluted by a whale, and at 4 entered the Gulf Stream. We here first observe luminous substances in the water, which at night appear like an ocean of fire. During the night it blew a gale, and we ran under double-reefed topsails, with mainsail furled. 30th. Leave the Gulf Stream, the wind blowing a terrific gale. We are tossed about on moun{11}tainous waves, and all sick. 31st. All sail set, and running six knots; dolphins and porpoises playing about the ship. We are again saluted by a whale.

With the start of the 28th, the wind calmed down, and we spread our canvas to catch a light breeze of three knots. At noon, we took our first measurement, and in the evening, we spotted a ship, though it was too far away to communicate. The 29th began with a strong breeze of seven knots, and we set off on our course with all sails up. At 3 PM, a whale greeted us, and by 4, we entered the Gulf Stream. Here, we first noticed glowing substances in the water, which at night looked like an ocean on fire. The night brought a fierce storm, and we sailed with double-reefed topsails and the mainsail furled. On the 30th, we left the Gulf Stream as the wind howled in a terrible gale. We were tossed around on huge waves, and everyone felt sick. On the 31st, all sails were set, and we were cruising at six knots, with dolphins and porpoises playing around the ship. Once again, a whale greeted us.

1st Feb. Pleasant; all appear at table; enter the trade winds; hoist studding-sails; lovely day; 4, P.M., mate catches a dolphin, and brings him on deck. 2d. Calm summer day. 3d. All on deck; extremely pleasant. 4th. Sunday; pleasant; pass a ship; fine breeze; throw the log; are running eight knots. 5th. Pass through schools of flying-fish, one of which flies on board. We enter the tropic of Cancer. A flock of black heron are flying through the air; we take an observation; are eighty miles from Caycos and Turk’s Island; making for the Caycos passage. 7th. 5, P.M. The captain discovers land from the mast-head, and we are cheered with the cry of “Land, Ho!” We pass around Caycos Island, and through the passage; and on the morning of the 8th, are in sight of St. Domingo, sixty miles distant. It looms up from the horizon like a heavy black cloud. 9th. Pass the island of Cuba, and on the 10th enter the Caribbean Sea. We passed near the island of Nevassa, a small rocky island, inhabited only by sea-fowl. They mistaking our vessel for a fowl of a larger species, came off in flocks, until our rigging was filled, and the sun almost obscured. They met with a foul reception. There were eighty passengers on board, all armed. They could not resist the temptation, but wantonly mutilated the unsuspecting birds, many of which expiated with their lives the crime of confiding in strangers. One would receive a charge of shot, with which it would fly back to the island, uttering the most unharmonious screeches, when a new deputation would set off for us, many of them destined to return to the island in the same musical mood. Fortunately, we were driven along by the breeze, and they returned to their homes, and have, no doubt, spent many an evening around the family hearth, speculating upon the peculiar sensations experienced on that occasion. The enthusiasm of the passengers did not immediately subside, but they spent the afternoon in shooting at targets.

1st Feb. Pleasant; everyone is at the table; the trade winds kick in; we hoist the studding sails; it’s a beautiful day; at 4, P.M., the mate catches a dolphin and brings it on deck. 2nd. A calm summer day. 3rd. Everyone's on deck; extremely pleasant. 4th. Sunday; nice weather; we pass a ship; there’s a nice breeze; we throw the log; we’re cruising at eight knots. 5th. We pass through schools of flying fish, one of which flies on board. We enter the Tropic of Cancer. A flock of black herons is flying overhead; we take a reading; we’re eighty miles from Caicos and Turk’s Island; heading for the Caicos passage. 7th. At 5, P.M., the captain spots land from the masthead, and we are greeted with the shout of “Land, Ho!” We sail around Caicos Island and through the passage; by the morning of the 8th, we see St. Domingo, sixty miles away. It rises from the horizon like a dark cloud. 9th. We pass the island of Cuba, and on the 10th, we enter the Caribbean Sea. We pass near the island of Nevis, a small rocky island, home to only seabirds. Mistaking our ship for a larger bird, they flocked towards us until our rigging was full, almost blocking out the sun. They met with a foul reception. There were eighty passengers on board, all armed. Unable to resist, they recklessly shot at the unsuspecting birds, many of which paid with their lives for trusting strangers. One would get shot and fly back to the island, screeching loudly, and then a new group would come to us, many of them also destined to return in the same noisy state. Luckily, we were pushed along by the breeze, and they returned home, likely spending many evenings wondering about their peculiar experience that day. The passengers' excitement didn't fade right away; they spent the afternoon shooting at targets.

11th. Thermometer standing at 80°. We are carried along with a three-knot breeze; our ship bowing gracefully to the undulations of the sea. It being Sunday, home presents itself vividly to our imagination. 13th. Standing in for the coast of{12} New Grenada; at 6 P.M., the captain cries out from the mast-head, “Land Ho!” We shorten sail, and on the morning of the 14th are standing in for the port of Chagres.

11th. The thermometer reads 80°. We're moving along with a three-knot breeze; our ship bends gracefully to the waves of the sea. Since it’s Sunday, thoughts of home come to mind. 13th. Approaching the coast of{12} New Grenada; at 6 P.M., the captain shouts from the mast, “Land Ho!” We trim the sails, and by the morning of the 14th, we're heading for the port of Chagres.

A most beautiful scene is spread out before us; we are making directly for the mouth of the river, the left point of the entrance being a bold, rocky promontory, surmounted by fortifications. (See Plate). The coast to the left is bold and rocky, extending a distance of five miles, and terminating in a rocky promontory, one of the points to the entrance of Navy Bay, the anticipated terminus of the Panama railroad. The coast to the right is low, stretching away as far as the eye can reach. In the background is a succession of elevations, terminating in mountains of considerable height, the valleys, as well as the crests of the hills, being covered with a most luxuriant growth of vegetation, together with the palm, cocoa-nut, and other tropical trees of the most gigantic size. As we neared the port, we passed around the steamer Falcon, which had just come to anchor, and passing on to within half a mile of the mouth of the river, we rounded to, and let go our anchor.{13}

A beautiful scene unfolds before us; we are heading straight for the mouth of the river. To the left, a bold, rocky promontory is topped with fortifications. (See Plate). The coast on the left is steep and rocky, stretching about five miles and ending in another rocky promontory, one of the points marking the entrance to Navy Bay, which is expected to be the endpoint of the Panama railroad. The coast on the right is low and extends as far as the eye can see. In the background, there are a series of hills that rise into considerable mountains, with the valleys and hilltops covered in lush vegetation, along with massive tropical trees like palms and coconut trees. As we got closer to the port, we passed the steamer Falcon, which had just anchored, and then continued on to within half a mile of the river's mouth, where we turned and dropped anchor.{13}

G. V. COOPER DEL.
LITH. of G. W. LEWIS, III NASSAU St. N. Y.
CHAGRES FROM THE ANCHORAGE.
Feb. 14^th 1849.

Chapter Second.

NATIVES AND “BUNGOES”—CRESCENT CITY ARRIVES—WE SAIL INTO THE MOUTH OF THE RIVER—PREPARE FOR A FIGHT—FASHIONS AND FORTIFICATIONS—AN HONEST ALCALDE—NON-FULFILLMENT OF CONTRACTS.

Our attention was first attracted to the natives who were rowing off to us in “bungoes,” or canoes of immense size, each manned by eight, ten, or twelve natives, apparently in a state of nudity. Their manner of propelling their craft was as novel as their appearance was ludicrous. They rise simultaneously, stepping up on a high seat, and, uttering a peculiar cry, throw themselves back on their oars, and resume their former seats. This is done with as much uniformity as if they were an entire piece of machinery. In the afternoon the Crescent City came to anchor, together with several sailing vessels, bringing, in all, about one thousand passengers.

Our attention was first drawn to the locals who were paddling towards us in "bungoes," or large canoes, each crewed by eight, ten, or twelve people, seemingly mostly undressed. Their way of moving their boats was as surprising as their appearance was amusing. They all rise at the same time, stepping up onto a high seat, and while letting out a unique shout, they lean back on their oars and return to their original seats. This is done with such precision that it looks like they’re all part of a single machine. In the afternoon, the Crescent City dropped anchor, along with several sailing ships, bringing in about one thousand passengers in total.

We remained outside until the 17th, when we weighed anchor and passed into the mouth, making fast to the right bank, now called the American side of the river. We found an abundance of water in the channel, but at the entrance several dangerous rocks. As this coast is subject to severe northers, it is an extremely difficult port to make. The steamers still anchor some two miles out. We found several vessels near the mouth, beached and filled.

We stayed outside until the 17th, when we dropped anchor and entered the mouth, tying up to the right bank, now known as the American side of the river. We discovered plenty of water in the channel, but there were several dangerous rocks at the entrance. Since this coast faces harsh northern winds, it's really tough to access this port. The steamers still anchor about two miles out. We saw several boats near the mouth, stranded and full.

It was amusing to see the passengers preparing to make their advent on land. It is well understood that no one started for California without being thoroughly fortified, and as we had arrived at a place, where, as we thought, there must be, at least, some fighting to do, our first attention was directed to our armor. The revolvers, each man having at least two, were first overhauled, and the six barrels charged. These were put in our belt, which also contained a bowie knife. A brace of smaller{14} pistols are snugly pocketed inside our vest; our rifles are liberally charged; and with a cane in hand, (which of course contains a dirk), and a slung shot in our pockets, we step off and look around for the enemy.

It was entertaining to watch the passengers getting ready to step onto land. It's widely known that no one set off for California without being well-prepared, and since we had arrived at a place where we thought there would be at least some fighting, our first focus was on our gear. We checked our revolvers, with each man carrying at least two, and loaded all six barrels. These were secured in our belts, which also held a bowie knife. A pair of smaller pistols were safely tucked inside our vests; our rifles were fully loaded; and with a cane in hand (which, of course, had a hidden blade), and a slung shot in our pockets, we moved forward and scanned for any enemies.

We crossed the river to Chagres, which consists of about thirty huts constructed of reeds, and thatched with palm-leaves, the inhabitants, the most squalid set of beings imaginable. They are all good Catholics, but do not go to the Bible for the fashions. There are fig-leaves in abundance, yet they are considered by the inhabitants quite superfluous, they preferring the garments that nature gave them, sometimes, however, adding a Panama hat.

We crossed the river to Chagres, which has about thirty huts made of reeds and topped with palm leaves. The people living there are the most miserable group you can imagine. They’re all devout Catholics, but they don’t look to the Bible for style. There are plenty of fig leaves around, but the locals see them as unnecessary, as they prefer to wear what nature provided, occasionally adding a Panama hat.

We visited the fortifications, which were in a dilapidated state, the walls fast falling to decay. The only sentinels at the time of our visit, were three goats and two children. (See Plate.) It has a commanding position, and has been a work of much strength, but the guns are now dismounted, and the inhabitants ignorant of their use. In returning from the fort, we crossed a stream where a party of ladies were undressing for a bath, i. e., they were taking off their hats. We passed on, and after viewing the “lions,” returned to our vessel, not very favorably impressed with the manners or customs of the town.

We visited the fortifications, which were in bad shape, the walls almost falling apart. The only sentinels during our visit were three goats and two kids. (See Plate.) It has a strong position and was once a solid structure, but the guns are now taken down, and the locals don’t know how to use them. On our way back from the fort, we crossed a stream where a group of ladies were getting ready for a bath, meaning they were taking off their hats. We moved on, and after seeing the “sights,” returned to our ship, not very impressed with the town's manners or customs.

We had contracted with the Alcalde for canoes to carry us up the river. The steamboat Orus, then plying on the river, having contracted to take up the Falcon’s passengers, had offered an advanced price, and secured all the canoes, including ours. Our Alcalde had been struck down to the highest bidder, and I will here say that, although many charges have been brought against the New Grenadians, they have never been accused of fulfilling a contract, especially if they could make a “real” by breaking it. We did not relish the idea of remaining until the canoes returned, as Chagres had the name, (and it undoubtedly deserved it,) of being the most unhealthy place in Christendom. Many of our passengers had their lives insured before starting, and there was a clause in each policy, that remaining at Chagres over night would be a forfeiture.

We had hired the Alcalde for canoes to take us up the river. The steamboat Orus, which was operating on the river, had agreed to transport the Falcon’s passengers and had offered a higher price, securing all the canoes, including ours. Our Alcalde had gone to the highest bidder, and I’ll note that, although many accusations have been made against the New Grenadians, they have never been criticized for sticking to a contract, especially if they could profit by breaking one. We were not keen on waiting until the canoes came back, as Chagres was notorious (and rightly so) for being the unhealthiest place in the world. Many of our passengers had insured their lives before leaving, and there was a clause in each policy stating that staying in Chagres overnight would void the coverage.

The trunks of the steamers’ passengers, particularly those of the Crescent City, were landed on the bank of the river, while their owners were endeavoring to secure passage up. The

The trunks of the steamers’ passengers, especially those from the Crescent City, were unloaded on the riverbank while their owners were trying to secure a ride upstream. The

G. V. COOPER DEL.
LITH. of G. W. LEWIS III NASSAU St. N. Y.
INTERIOR OF THE CASTLE,
AT CHAGRES.

{15}

“bungoes” had all gone up with the Orus. There were left two or three small canoes, and the scenes of competition around these were exciting, and often ludicrous in the extreme. Now a man would contract for passage for himself and friend, and while absent to arrange some little matter preparatory to a start, some one would offer the worthy Padrone (captain) a higher price, when he would immediately put the trunks of the first two on shore, and take on board those of the latter, together with their owners, and shove out into the stream. Now the first two would appear, with hands filled with refreshments for the voyage, and begin to look around for their boat. In a moment their eyes fall upon their trunks, and the truth flashes across their imagination. Now the scene of excitement begins. The boat is ordered to the shore, it don’t come, and they attempt to wade out to it. The first step convinces them of the impracticability of this expedient, as they sink into the mud to their necks. Revolvers are flourished, but they can be used by both parties, consequently are not used at all.{16}

“Bungoes” had all been taken by the Orus. There were only two or three small canoes left, and the competition around them was both thrilling and often hilariously ridiculous. A guy would set up a deal to take himself and a friend across, and while he was away sorting out some last-minute details, someone would offer the Padrone (captain) a better deal. In a flash, he would unload the bags of the first two passengers and load the bags of the new customers, along with them, before heading out into the stream. Suddenly, the original duo would show up, arms full of snacks for the journey, looking for their boat. As soon as they spotted their bags, the reality of the situation hit them. That’s when the chaos kicked off. They called for the boat to come to shore, but it didn’t arrive, so they tried to wade out to it. The first step made them realize how hopeless this plan was as they sunk into the mud up to their necks. Revolvers were brandished, but since both sides had them, nobody ended up using them at all.{16}

Chapter Third.

FIRST ATTEMPT AT BOAT BUILDING—EXCITEMENT “ON ’CHANGE”—A LAUNCH AND CLEARANCE—THE CREW—A MUTINY—QUELLED—POOR ACCOMMODATIONS—A NIGHT IN ANGER—AN ANTHEM TO THE SUN—NATURE IN FULL DRESS.

We saw but one alternative, which was, to construct a boat ourselves, and work it up the river. Upon this we decided, and purchasing the temporary berths of our vessel, soon had a boat on the stocks, 6 feet by 19, and in three days it was afloat at the side of the “Marietta,” receiving its freight. We called it the “Minerva,” and she was probably the first American-bottom ever launched at this port. A misfortune here befel me which I will relate somewhat minutely, as it was undoubtedly the cause of the death of a party concerned. In going out one morning to assist in the construction of the boat, I left my vest, which had a sum of money sewed up in the upper side pocket, in my berth, covered in such a manner I thought no one could discover it. I did not give it a thought during the day, but on going to my berth in the evening, I noticed the covering had been disturbed, and as my room-mates were in the habit of helping themselves to prunes, from a box in my berth, I imagined they had discovered and taken care of it. I was the more strongly impressed that this was the case from the fact that they had frequently spoken of my carelessness. I immediately saw them; they had seen nothing of it. Watches were stationed and the ship searched, but no trace of the money. A person who had had access to the cabin on that day for the first time was strongly suspected, but no trace of the money found. Our suspicions, however, were well founded, as the sequel will show. The passengers very kindly offered to make up a part of the loss, but as I had a little left I most respectfully declined its acceptance. We had about 3000 lbs. of freight and nine persons,

We only saw one option, which was to build a boat ourselves and take it up the river. So, we decided to do that. After buying the temporary berths for our vessel, we quickly had a boat built, measuring 6 feet by 19, and within three days, it was launched next to the “Marietta,” ready to load. We named it the “Minerva,” and it was probably the first American boat ever launched at this port. Unfortunately, something bad happened to me that I need to explain in detail because it likely led to someone's death. One morning, while going out to help with the boat's construction, I left my vest, which had some money sewn into the top pocket, in my berth, covered up in a way that I thought would keep it hidden. I didn’t think about it throughout the day, but when I returned to my berth in the evening, I noticed that the covering had been disturbed. Since my roommates often took prunes from a box in my berth, I assumed they found it and used it. I was even more convinced of this because they had often pointed out my carelessness. I immediately asked them; they hadn’t seen anything. We set up watches and searched the ship, but there was no sign of the money. A person who had access to the cabin for the first time that day was strongly suspected, but no clues to the money were found. However, our suspicions turned out to be correct, as you will see later. The passengers kindly offered to help cover part of the loss, but since I still had a little money left, I respectfully declined their offer. We had about 3000 lbs. of freight and nine people on board.

G. V. COOPER DEL.
LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS III NASSAU ST. N. Y.
ENTRANCE TO THE CHAGRES RIVER.

{17}

and at 2 P.M., 22d Feb., gave the word, “let go,” run up our sail, and as it was blowing a stiff breeze from the ocean, glided rapidly along up the river, our worthy captain, Dennison, and his accomplished mate, Wm. Bliss, of the “Marietta,” calling all hands on deck, and giving us three times three as we parted, to which adios we responded with feeling hearts. Now, as there is a straight run of three miles, a fair wind, and nothing to do but attend to our sail and tiller, we will take a survey of craft and crew. We are freighted with trunks, shovels, pick-axes, India-rubber bags, smoked ham, rifles, camp-kettles, hard-bread, swords and cheese. Our crew, commencing at the tallest, (we had no first officer,) consisted of two brothers, Dodge, young men of intelligence and enterprise; the eldest a man of the most indomitable perseverance, the younger of the most unbounded good humor, both calculated to make friends wherever they go, and to ride over difficulties without a murmur. They had associated with them three Germans, Shultz, Eiswald, and Hush. Shultz was a young man of energy, fond of music, a good singer, gentlemanly and companionable; Eiswald, full of humor and mirth, extracting pleasure from every incident, always at his post, a fine companion and good navigator; Hush, was a small man, with exceedingly large feet; he appeared to be entirely out of his element; he was disposed to do all he could, but his limbs would not obey him; his arms appeared to be mismated; his legs, when set in motion, would each take an opposite direction, and his feet were everywhere, except where he wanted to have them. We were quite safe when he was still, but when set in motion we found him a dangerous companion. Mr. Russ, a young lawyer of New York, Mr. Cooper, an artist, also of New York, a man of energy, perseverance and genius, and one of the most efficient men of the party. Mr. Beaty, an elderly man, extremely tall and slender, and very moral and exemplary in his habits; being in feeble health, he was to act as cook for the voyage. Ninthly and lastly, myself, an extremely choleric young man, of whom delicacy forbids me to say more.

and at 2 P.M., February 22nd, we got the word, “let go,” raised our sail, and since there was a strong wind coming from the ocean, we quickly moved up the river. Our captain, Dennison, and his skilled first mate, Wm. Bliss, of the “Marietta,” called everyone on deck and gave us three cheers as we departed, to which adios we responded with heartfelt emotions. Now, because we had a straight three-mile run, a good wind, and nothing to do but manage the sail and tiller, let’s take a look at our gear and crew. We were loaded with trunks, shovels, pickaxes, rubber bags, smoked ham, rifles, camp kettles, hardtack, swords, and cheese. Our crew, starting with the tallest (we didn’t have a first officer), included two brothers, Dodge, young men full of intelligence and ambition; the older one was incredibly persistent, and the younger one was always in a great mood, both capable of making friends wherever they went and overcoming challenges without complaint. They were joined by three Germans: Shultz, Eiswald, and Hush. Shultz was a young energetic man who enjoyed music, was a good singer, and quite sociable; Eiswald was cheerful and playful, finding joy in every situation, always alert, a great companion, and a solid navigator; Hush was a small man with very large feet; he seemed completely out of his element. He tried his best, but his limbs didn’t cooperate; his arms seemed mismatched, and when he moved, his legs would go in opposite directions, with his feet always somewhere other than where he wanted them. We felt secure when he was still, but when he was in motion, he became a hazardous companion. Mr. Russ, a young lawyer from New York, Mr. Cooper, an artist also from New York, was energetic, determined, and creative, being one of the most effective members of the team. Mr. Beaty, an older man who was extremely tall and thin, lived a very moral and exemplary life; due to his weak health, he was going to cook for the journey. Finally, there was me, a very hot-tempered young man, about whom discretion prevents me from saying more.

We have now arrived at the bend of the river, and as here is a spring of excellent water, we make fast and fill our water-keg. Water is obtained here for the vessels in port, by sending up{18} small boats. It can be obtained in any quantity, and a more lovely place cannot well be conceived of. After adjusting our baggage preparatory to manning our oars, we again shoved out into the stream. We manned four oars, consequently kept a reserve. We were all fresh and vigorous, and, being much elated with the novelty of our voyage, resolved to work the boat all night. It was already quite dark, but with the aid of a lamp we kept on our course. The river here was walled up on either side by gigantic trees, their branches interchanging over our heads, almost shutting out the stars. Sometimes the branches stretching out but little above the surface of the river, were filled with water fowls, the white heron presenting a strange and most striking appearance. They would start with fright at our approach, striking wildly in the dark with their wings; some would find secure resting-places on the more elevated branches, while others would settle down through the dense foliage to the margin of the river. Innumerable bats, attracted by our light, were flitting along the surface of the river, but aside from these all nature appeared to be hushed in sleep.

We’ve now reached the bend in the river, and since there’s a spring of great water here, we secure the boat and fill our water keg. Vessels in the port get their water by sending small boats up{18}. We can get as much as we need, and it's hard to imagine a more beautiful spot. After organizing our gear to prepare for rowing, we pushed out into the water again. We manned four oars, which left us with a backup. Everyone was energized and excited about the adventure, so we decided to row through the night. It was already quite dark, but we managed to stay on course with the help of a lamp. The river here was lined with massive trees on both sides, their branches intertwining above us and nearly blocking out the stars. Sometimes, the branches low over the water were filled with birds, and the white heron looked strange and impressive. They would startle at our approach, flapping their wings wildly in the dark; some found safer spots on higher branches, while others dove into the thick leaves by the river’s edge. Countless bats, attracted by our light, flitted across the river’s surface, but aside from that, nature seemed to be in a deep sleep.

We moved along with much spirit until about eleven o’clock, when there were symptoms of disaffection. Some were weary, others sleepy; some declared they would work no longer, others that the boat should not stop. We had all the premonitory symptoms of a mutiny. It was suggested that we should uncork a bottle of brandy, which was accordingly done, and it was soon unanimously declared that our prospects had never appeared so flattering. I am sure our boat was never propelled with such energy. I am not prepared to say that the brandy didn’t have an influence. We moved along rapidly for an hour when we had a relapse of the same disaffection. We resolved to stop; but we were in a dilemma. We had left home under the impression that the Chagres river was governed by alligators and anacondas, assisted by all the venomous reptiles in the “whole dire catalogue,” consequently, to run to the shore was to run right into the jaws of death, which we did not care to do at this particular time. We pulled along until we came in contact with a limb, which stretched out over the surface of the river, to which we made fast. After detailing two of the party as a watch, we stowed ourselves away as best we could. I was{19} in a half-sitting posture—my feet hanging outside the boat, my back coming in contact with the chime of our water-keg. I tried for some time to sleep, but in vain. I tried to persuade myself that I was at home in a comfortable bed, just falling into a doze, but my back was not to be deceived in that way; and after spending two hours in my uncomfortable position, I got up. I found that my companions had been as badly lodged as myself, and all as anxious to man the oars. We were soon under way, and soon the approaching day was proclaimed by the incessant howl of the animal creation, including the tiger, leopard, cougar, monkeys, &c., &c., accompanied by innumerable parrots and other tropical birds. All nature seemed to be in motion. The scene is indelibly impressed upon my memory. The trees on the margin of the river were of immense size, clothed to their tops with morning-glories and other flowers of every conceivable hue, their tendrils stooping down, kissing the placid bosom of the river. Birds of the most brilliant plumage were flying through the air, in transports of joy. All nature seemed to hail the sun with bursts of rapture. Everything appeared to me so new and strange. My transition from a northern winter to this delightful climate, seemed like magic, and appeared like a scene of enchantment, like the dawning of a new creation.{20}

We kept moving with a lot of energy until around eleven o’clock when we started noticing some signs of discontent. Some people were tired, others were dozing off; some insisted they wouldn't work any longer, while others said the boat shouldn’t stop. We had all the early signs of a mutiny. It was suggested that we pop open a bottle of brandy, which we did, and it was quickly agreed that our outlook had never seemed so promising. I’m sure our boat was never pushed forward with such enthusiasm. I can’t say that the brandy didn’t have an effect. We moved swiftly for an hour when we faced the same discontent again. We decided to stop; but we were in a tricky situation. We had set off believing that the Chagres River was controlled by alligators and anacondas, along with every venomous snake you could think of, so heading to shore felt like stepping straight into danger, which we didn’t want to do at that moment. We continued until we reached a branch that stretched over the river, to which we tied ourselves. After assigning two people to keep watch, we tried to settle down as best we could. I was in a half-sitting position—my feet hanging outside the boat, my back against the side of our water keg. I tried for a while to sleep, but it didn’t work. I attempted to convince myself that I was in a comfy bed at home, just about to drift off, but my back wasn't buying it; and after two hours in that uncomfortable position, I got up. I found my companions were just as cramped as I was, and all were eager to grab the oars. We were soon on our way again, and the coming day was announced by the constant howls of the wildlife, including the tiger, leopard, cougar, monkeys, and so on, along with countless parrots and other tropical birds. Everything in nature seemed to be alive. The scene is forever etched in my memory. The trees lining the river were massive, covered at the tops with morning glories and other vividly colored flowers, their tendrils drooping down and touching the calm surface of the river. Birds with the brightest feathers were flitting through the air, overflowing with joy. Nature seemed to welcome the sun with bursts of excitement. Everything felt so new and unfamiliar to me. My leap from a cold northern winter to this beautiful climate felt like magic, as if I had stepped into a fairytale, like the start of a new creation.

Chapter Fourth.

BREAKFAST—PRIMITIVE MODE OF LIFE—MEET THE “ORUS”—MUTINY AND RAIN—A STEP BACKWARDS—ENCAMPMENT—A “FORTIFIED” AND FRIGHTENED INDIVIDUAL—SPORTING—MOSQUITOS.

BREAKFAST—PRIMITIVE LIFESTYLE—MEET THE “ORUS”—MUTINY AND RAIN—A STEP BACKWARDS—CAMPING—A “FORTIFIED” AND SCARED INDIVIDUAL—SPORTS—MOSQUITOS.

We moved along until the sun had ascended the horizon, when we made fast to the shore and took breakfast. Being somewhat fatigued, we remained until after dinner. We were visited here by two native men and a little boy, all dressed in black, the suits that nature gave them. They were cutting poles with big knives or machets; they had brought their dinner with them, which consisted of a piece of sugar-cane, a foot in length.

We continued moving until the sun rose above the horizon, at which point we secured our boat to the shore and had breakfast. Feeling a bit tired, we stayed until after lunch. While we were there, two local men and a little boy, all wearing nothing but their natural skin, came to visit us. They were cutting poles with large knives or machetes and had brought their lunch, which was a piece of sugar cane about a foot long.

We again manned our oars and worked our boat until about sunset, when we drew along shore at a pleasant point designing to encamp. Some of the party were anxious to gain a higher point on the river, and we again pushed out. As we were gaining the middle of the stream, a canoe turned the point containing two boys; they immediately cried out, “vapor! vapor!” (steamboat, steamboat,) and before we could reach the shore, the “Orus” came dashing around the point, throwing her swell over the sides of our boat, and we were near being swamped. This caused great consternation and excitement, which soon subsided, and we were again under way. We were, however, destined not to end our day’s journey, without additional difficulties. We worked an hour without finding a suitable place to spend the night. Those having proposed stopping below, now strongly demurred to going on, and after an eloquent and spirited discussion, it was decided by a majority vote, that we should run back. It commenced to rain about this time, and we returned in not the most amiable mood.

We took to our oars again and rowed our boat until almost sunset, when we pulled up along the shore at a nice spot intended for camping. Some members of the group wanted to reach a higher point on the river, so we pushed off again. As we were getting to the middle of the stream, a canoe rounded the bend with two boys in it; they immediately shouted, “boat! boat!” and before we could get to the shore, the “Orus” came speeding around the point, swamping our boat and nearly capsizing us. This created a lot of panic and excitement, which quickly faded, and we were on our way again. However, we were not meant to finish our day’s journey without more challenges. We rowed for an hour without finding a good place to spend the night. Those who had initially suggested stopping earlier now strongly opposed going further, and after a lively and spirited debate, it was decided by a majority vote that we should head back. About this time, it started to rain, and we returned in a rather grumpy mood.

We erected an india rubber tent on shore and, laying our{21} masts fore and aft, threw our sail over it as a protection to the boat; and, after supper, detailed our watch, when another attempt was made to sleep. Mr. Hush and myself, were on the first watch. I took my station in the boat, but there being a strange commotion in the water, and the sides of the boat not being very high, Mr. H. preferred the shore. He armed himself with a brace of revolvers, and one of horse pistols, a bowie-knife, a large German rifle and broad sword, and stepped on shore. The night was extremely quiet, and at ten o’clock it ceased to rain. Nothing was heard except the peculiar whistle of a bird, which much resembled that of a school boy. The river, however, was in a constant agitation, which we presumed to be caused by alligators rushing into schools of fish.

We set up an inflatable rubber tent on the shore and, laying our{21} masts fore and aft, threw our sail over it to protect the boat. After dinner, we assigned our watch, and then tried to sleep again. Mr. Hush and I were on the first watch. I took my place in the boat, but since there was strange movement in the water and the sides of the boat weren't very high, Mr. H. chose to stay on shore. He armed himself with two revolvers, a horse pistol, a bowie knife, a large German rifle, and a broadsword, and stepped onto the shore. The night was very quiet, and by ten o'clock the rain stopped. We could only hear the unique whistle of a bird, which sounded a lot like a schoolboy. However, the river was constantly churning, which we guessed was due to alligators swimming into schools of fish.

At 12, Mr. H. thought he heard a strange noise in the forest, approaching the encampment, and in a few minutes uttering a most unearthly yell, he jumped for the boat. His feet hanging a little “too low on the edge,” caught under a root, and he brought up in the river. This being full of alligators, only added to his fright, and the precise time it took him to get out, I am unable to say.

At 12, Mr. H. thought he heard a strange noise in the forest, getting closer to the camp, and after a few minutes, let out a really eerie yell and jumped into the boat. His feet were hanging a bit “too low on the edge,” got caught under a root, and he ended up in the river. The fact that it was full of alligators only increased his fear, and I can't say exactly how long it took him to get out.

The morning was again hailed by universal acclamation, and after an early breakfast we resumed our voyage. We had a pleasant run during the day, stopping frequently to secure pheasants, pigeons, toucans, parrots, &c. The latter are not very palatable, but we were not disposed to be fastidious, and every thing we shot, except alligators, went into the camp-kettle. Late in the afternoon we met a bungo, the natives pointing to a tree, the top of which was filled with wild turkeys. We pulled along under the tree, discharged a volley, and succeeded in frightening them to another. Having a carbine charged with shot, I brought one to the ground. I climbed up the bank, but found the forest impenetrable. The under growth was a dense chaparal, interlaced with vines, every shrub and tree armed with thorns. I, however, with my machet, reached the turkey. There being a sandy beach near, we resolved to encamp for the night; and while we were pitching our tent, Mr. B. dressed and cooked our turkey.

The morning was once again greeted with widespread cheers, and after an early breakfast, we continued our journey. We had a smooth ride throughout the day, stopping often to catch pheasants, pigeons, toucans, parrots, etc. The parrots aren't very tasty, but we weren't picky, and everything we shot, except for alligators, went into the camp kettle. Later in the afternoon, we spotted a bungo, with the locals pointing to a tree that was filled with wild turkeys. We moved under the tree, fired a shot, and managed to scare them into another tree. With a carbine loaded with shot, I managed to bring one down. I climbed up the bank but found the forest hard to navigate. The underbrush was a thick chaparral, tangled with vines, and every shrub and tree was covered in thorns. However, armed with my machete, I reached the turkey. Since there was a sandy beach nearby, we decided to set up camp for the night, and while we were putting up our tent, Mr. B. prepared and cooked our turkey.

We were here attacked by the most ravenous swarm of musquitos it was ever my lot to encounter. We had promised{22} ourselves a comfortable night’s rest, but it was like most of the promises one makes himself. We entered the campaign with the greatest zeal; but before morning, would have been glad to capitulate on any terms. The morning dawned as it only dawns within the tropics. Being Sunday we resolved to rest, and called our place of encampment, Point Domingo.{23}

We were attacked by the most vicious swarm of mosquitoes I have ever encountered. We had promised ourselves a comfortable night's sleep, but that was like most of the promises we make to ourselves. We started the campaign with a lot of enthusiasm, but by morning, we would have gladly surrendered on any terms. The morning came as it only does in the tropics. Since it was Sunday, we decided to take a break and named our campsite Point Domingo.

Chapter Fifth.

FIRST RAPID—AN UNFORTUNATE INDIVIDUAL—A STEP BACKWARDS—SEVERAL INDIVIDUALS IN A STATE OF EXCITEMENT—TIN PANS NOT EXACTLY THE THING—A BREAKFAST EXTINGUISHED—SPORTING—MONKEY AMUSEMENTS—A “FLASH IN THE PAN”—TWO FEET IN OUR PROVISION BASKET—POVERTY OF THE INHABITANTS AND THEIR DOGS—ARRIVAL AT GORGONA.

FIRST RAPID—AN UNLUCKY PERSON—A STEP BACK—SEVERAL PEOPLE IN A STATE OF EXCITEMENT—TIN PANS NOT EXACTLY IDEAL—BREAKFAST DISRUPTED—SPORTY—MONKEY FUN—A “FLASH IN THE PAN”—TWO FEET IN OUR SUPPLY BASKET—POVERTY OF THE LOCALS AND THEIR DOGS—ARRIVAL AT GORGONA.

Monday morning, having an early breakfast, we were again under way. We shot several alligators, and at 10, A.M., arrived at the first rapid. We uncorked a bottle of brandy and prepared for hard work. As Mr. Hush did not help work the boat, (it was not safe to give him a pole) it was suggested that he should walk. We commenced the ascent, and after an hour of hard labor, gained the summit. We drew up along shore, and Mr. H. attempted to jump on board. His feet, as usual, taking the wrong direction, he stumbled and caught hold of an India rubber bag for support, which not being securely fastened, went overboard. The current being strong it passed rapidly down, and there was no alternative but to follow it with the boat. We soon found ourselves going with the greatest velocity, down the rapid we had just toiled so hard to ascend. We overtook the bag at the foot, and making fast to the shore, we held a very animated colloquy, which was embellished with an occasional oath by way of emphasis. Mr. H. suspected that he was the subject of our animadversions, but there was nothing said.

Monday morning, after an early breakfast, we were on our way again. We shot a few alligators and arrived at the first rapid by 10, A.M.. We popped open a bottle of brandy and got ready for some hard work. Since Mr. Hush wasn’t much help with the boat, (it wasn’t safe to give him a pole) it was suggested he should walk. We started the ascent, and after an hour of hard work, we reached the top. We pulled up along the shore, and Mr. H. tried to jump on board. As usual, his feet went in the wrong direction, and he stumbled, grabbing onto an unfastened rubber bag for support, which fell overboard. The current was strong, and it quickly floated away, leaving us no choice but to follow it with the boat. We soon found ourselves racing down the rapid we had just worked so hard to climb. We caught up with the bag at the bottom and, tying off to the shore, we had a very animated discussion, sprinkled with the occasional curse for emphasis. Mr. H. suspected he was the topic of our conversation, but nothing was said.

We again ascended the rapid, and worked on until rain and night overtook us. We were obliged to encamp on an unpleasant rocky shore, and cook supper in the rain. We passed an uncomfortable night; and in the morning it was still raining in torrents. We were furnished with India rubber ponchos and were making preparations to start while Mr. Cooper and Mr. Beaty were preparing breakfast. It was difficult to get{24} fuel, and still more difficult to make it burn. They however succeeded in kindling the fire. We usually boiled our coffee-water in the camp-kettle, but this being full of game, we filled a large tin pan with water, and placed it over the fire, supported by three stones. The ham was frying briskly by the fire, our chocolate dissolving, and every thing going on swimmingly, when one of the stones turned, capsizing the tin pan, putting out every particle of fire, and filling the chocolate and ham with ashes. (See plate.) Mr. Cooper was frantic with rage, doffing his hat, throwing the ham into the river, kicking over the chocolate cup, cursing every thing in general, and tin pans in particular, while Mr. Beaty, with a most rueful countenance, clasped his hands, exclaiming, “Oh! my!!!”

We climbed the rapids again and kept going until the rain and night caught up with us. We had to set up camp on a messy, rocky shore and cook dinner in the rain. We had an uncomfortable night, and by morning, it was still pouring. We were given rubber ponchos and were getting ready to leave while Mr. Cooper and Mr. Beaty made breakfast. It was hard to find fuel, and even harder to get it to burn. However, they managed to start a fire. We usually boiled our coffee water in the camp kettle, but since it was full of game, we filled a large tin pan with water and propped it over the fire with three stones. The ham was sizzling by the fire, our chocolate was melting, and everything was going swimmingly when one of the stones slipped, toppling the tin pan, extinguishing the fire, and covering the chocolate and ham in ashes. (See plate.) Mr. Cooper was furious, taking off his hat, throwing the ham into the river, kicking over the chocolate cup, cursing everything in general, especially tin pans, while Mr. Beaty, with a very sad expression, clasped his hands and exclaimed, “Oh! my!!!”

Mr. Dodge came to the rescue, and we had a warm breakfast, and were soon under way. At ten, the sun came out, and we had a pleasant run, using our sail. We encamped in a delightful place on the left bank of the river, and had a comfortable night’s rest. When we awoke in the morning, the air was filled with parrots, toucans, tropical pheasants, etc. Our guns were immediately brought into requisition, and we soon procured a full supply, including seven pheasants. One of the party and myself finding a path that had been beaten by wild beasts resolved to follow it, and penetrate more deeply into the forest. After going some distance we heard a strange noise, which induced my companion to return. Being well armed I proceeded on, and soon came upon a party of monkeys taking their morning exercise. There were about twenty of them, in the top of a large tree. The larger ones would take the smaller and pretend they were about to throw them off; the little ones, in the mean time, struggling for life. There was one very large one, with a white face, who appeared to be doing the honors of the occasion, viz., laughing when the little ones were frightened. If I had been within speaking distance of his honor, I would have informed him that his uncouth laugh had diminished the audience on the present occasion by at least one half. I did not break in upon their sports, but, following the path, soon found myself at a bend of the river.

Mr. Dodge came to the rescue, and we had a nice breakfast and were soon on our way. By ten, the sun was out, and we had a pleasant run using our sail. We set up camp in a lovely spot on the left bank of the river and had a good night's sleep. When we woke up in the morning, the air was filled with parrots, toucans, tropical pheasants, and more. We quickly brought out our guns and soon gathered a full supply, including seven pheasants. One of my companions and I found a path that had been worn down by wild animals and decided to follow it deeper into the forest. After going a little ways, we heard a strange noise, which made my friend turn back. Being well armed, I continued on and soon came across a group of monkeys enjoying their morning exercise. There were about twenty of them at the top of a large tree. The bigger ones would grab the smaller ones and pretend to throw them off while the little ones struggled for dear life. One very large monkey with a white face seemed to be enjoying the show, laughing as the little ones got scared. If I had been close enough to talk to him, I would have told him that his loud laugh had cut the audience in half. I didn’t interrupt their fun but continued along the path and soon found myself at a bend in the river.

A native was passing, who informed me that there were turkeys on the other side. I stepped into his canoe, and in a

A local was passing by and told me that there were turkeys on the other side. I got into his canoe, and in a

G. V. COOPER DEL.
ON STONE BY J. CAMERON
LITH. of G. W. LEWIS III, NASSAU ST. N.Y.
MAKING BREAKFAST
on the Chagres River.

{25}

moment we were climbing the opposite bank. When within shooting distance I raised my gun; it missed fire, and the turkeys flew away, the native exclaiming “mucho malo.” We recrossed, and I soon reached the encampment. Our game was cooked, and the party ready to embark. We shoved out, but, unfortunately, Hush had forgotten his bowie knife. We floated back, he ascended the bank, and succeeded in finding it. In returning, he found it difficult to reach the boat; the bank being quite abrupt, he, however, determined to jump, and, after making a few peculiar gyrations with his arms, he did jump, and landed both feet in our provision basket, breaking several bottles, and in his effort to extricate himself kicked the basket overboard. He would have followed it, had it not been for timely assistance.

The moment we were climbing the opposite bank, I raised my gun when I was close enough to shoot. It misfired, and the turkeys flew away while the native exclaimed, “mucho malo.” We crossed back and I quickly reached the campsite. Our game was cooked, and the group was ready to set out. We pushed off, but, unfortunately, Hush had forgotten his bowie knife. We floated back, he climbed the bank, and managed to find it. On his way back, he had trouble reaching the boat because the bank was quite steep. However, he decided to jump, and after making some awkward movements with his arms, he did jump, landing both feet in our supply basket, breaking several bottles. In his attempt to get out, he kicked the basket overboard. He would have followed it if it hadn’t been for some quick help.

The day was excessively hot, the river rapid, and our progress slow. In the after part of the day, we passed a rancho where there were a few hills of corn, the first sign of industry we had seen along the river. One can hardly conceive of a country susceptible of a higher cultivation. They have a perpetual summer; tropical fruits grow spontaneously; they have the finest bottom lands for rice, tobacco, cotton, corn, or sugar plantations perhaps on this continent; yet, with the exception of a very little corn and sugar, nothing is cultivated. The enterprise of the States would make the country a paradise.

The day was extremely hot, the river was fast-moving, and we were making slow progress. Later in the day, we passed a ranch where there were a few cornfields, the first indication of activity we had seen along the river. It's hard to imagine a place capable of more intense farming. They enjoy a constant summer; tropical fruits grow naturally; they have the best fertile land for rice, tobacco, cotton, corn, or sugar plantations, perhaps anywhere on this continent. Yet, aside from a little corn and sugar, nothing is being farmed. If the States put in some effort, this place could be a paradise.

We encamped at night where the river had a peculiar bend, forming a horse-shoe, and one of the most delightful spots I ever saw. I selected it for my own use—as a rice and sugar plantation—but have not yet had the title examined. In the middle of the night a canoe passed down in which was the man suspected of having borrowed my vest. He spoke to one of our party, said he was on his way to Chagres, on business, but would return to Gorgona immediately. We took an early start in the morning, and at nine stopped at a rancho to purchase cigars. Such a squalid family I never saw. There were three women, two or three young ladies, and half a dozen children—none of them were dressed, excepting a little boy who had on a checked palm leaf hat. We asked for cigars, they had none, but would make some for us, “poco tiempo,” (little time). We couldn’t wait. We were much struck with{26} the appearance of the dog, which was so poor that, in attempting to bark at us, it turned a summerset. We were now not far from Gorgona, and exerted every nerve to reach our destination. At noon, while at dinner, a young native approached us from the forest, and proposed to help work the boat up to Gorgona. As he was a tall, athletic young fellow, and didn’t charge anything, we accepted his proposition, and gave him his dinner. We were now six miles from Gorgona, and with the aid of our native there was a prospect of arriving in good time. The river was shallow, with frequent rapids, and, although our boat drew only nine inches water, we were frequently obliged to get out and tow it up. (See Plate). Your humble servant is standing on the bow of the boat with a long pole. Cooper is “boosting” at the side. Hush is doing duty—the first on the rope. Dodge is in a passion and in the act of addressing some emphatic remark to gentlemen on board. Natives are seen in their canoes, and just above, seated on the limb of a tree, is a monkey who appears to be looking on enjoying the scene. As we passed under the tree he came down upon one of the lower branches, and seemed disposed to take passage. An alligator is seen on the bank below, and in the air innumerable parrots. The noise of these is one of the annoyances of this country, their screeching incessant and intolerable. Late in the afternoon we arrived within half a mile of Gorgona, which was behind a bend of the river, where our native wished to land. We soon passed the bend, when the town was in full view, and in a few moments our labors were at an end. Our friends had felt some solicitation for us. Seven days was an unusual passage at this season of the year, and if they had wished to effect an insurance on us it is doubtful whether it could have been done in Gorgona at the usual rates.

We set up camp at night where the river had a weird bend, creating a horseshoe shape, and it was one of the prettiest spots I’ve ever seen. I chose it for my own use—as a rice and sugar plantation—but I haven’t yet had the title looked over. In the middle of the night, a canoe went by with the guy suspected of borrowing my vest. He talked to one of our group, said he was heading to Chagres for business but would return to Gorgona right away. We got an early start in the morning, and at nine, we stopped at a rancho to buy cigars. I’d never seen such a shabby family. There were three women, two or three young ladies, and about half a dozen kids—none of them were dressed, except for a little boy wearing a checked palm leaf hat. We asked for cigars; they didn’t have any but could make some for us in a “poco tiempo” (little time). We couldn’t wait. We were struck by{26} the sight of the dog, which was so skinny that when it tried to bark at us, it flipped over. We were now not far from Gorgona, and we pushed ourselves to reach our destination. At noon, while having lunch, a young local guy came out of the woods and offered to help us get the boat to Gorgona. Since he was a tall, strong young man and didn't charge anything, we accepted and offered him lunch. We were now six miles from Gorgona, and with the local guy’s help, we had a good chance of arriving on time. The river was shallow with lots of rapids, and even though our boat only needed nine inches of water, we often had to get out and pull it along. (See Plate). Your humble servant is standing at the front of the boat with a long pole. Cooper is “boosting” at the side. Hush is doing duty—the first on the rope. Dodge is frustrated and is about to say something emphatic to the gentlemen on board. Natives can be seen in their canoes, and just above us, sitting on a tree branch, is a monkey looking on and seemingly enjoying the scene. As we passed under the tree, the monkey climbed down to a lower branch and seemed ready to join us. An alligator was spotted on the bank below, and countless parrots filled the air. Their screeching is one of the annoyances of this country—constant and unbearable. Late in the afternoon, we got within half a mile of Gorgona, which was behind a bend in the river, where our local guy wanted to land. We soon rounded the bend, and the town came into full view, and before long, our hard work was over. Our friends had been a bit worried about us. Seven days was a long journey at this time of year, and if they wanted to get insurance on us, they might have struggled to do it in Gorgona at the usual rates.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS III NASSAU ST. N.Y. PASSING A RAPPID, on Chagres river.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS III NASSAU ST. N.Y. PASSING A RAPID, on Chagres River.

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Chapter Sixth.

CUSTOMS AND DRESS OF THE NOBILITY—A SUSPICIOUS INDIVIDUAL—JOURNEY TO PANAMA—A NIGHT PROCESSION—A WEALTHY LADY IN “BLOOMER”—AN AGREEABLE NIGHT SURPRISE—“HUSH” ON HORSE BACK—CAPTAIN TYLER SHOT—A MOUNTAIN PASS AT NIGHT—THUNDER STORM IN THE TROPICS.

CUSTOMS AND DRESS OF THE NOBILITY—A SUSPICIOUS PERSON—JOURNEY TO PANAMA—A NIGHT PROCESSION—A WEALTHY WOMAN IN “BLOOMER”—A PLEASANT NIGHT SURPRISE—“HUSH” ON HORSEBACK—CAPTAIN TYLER SHOT—A MOUNTAIN PASS AT NIGHT—THUNDERSTORM IN THE TROPICS.

The town is pleasantly situated about fifty feet above the level of the river, and contains some eight hundred inhabitants. At the time of our arrival, there were about five hundred Americans encamped in the town. The buildings are mostly constructed of reed, thatched with palm-leaf. (See Plate). A hammock is slung under the eave of one of these houses, occupied by the mother, in the act of administering to the wants of a little one; an open countenanced dog is near, as if waiting to relieve the child, a señora is shelling corn, and a hog is looking on, one foot raised, in readiness to obey the first summons.

The town is nicely situated about fifty feet above the river level and has around eight hundred residents. When we arrived, about five hundred Americans were camping in the town. The buildings are mostly made of reeds and have palm leaves for thatching. (See Plate). A hammock is hung under the eave of one of these houses, where a mother is taking care of her little one; a friendly dog is nearby, seemingly waiting to assist the child. A woman is shelling corn, while a pig watches, one foot raised, ready to respond at the first call.

The people dress, as in Chagres, with the addition, in some cases, of half a yard of linen and a string of beads. The Alcalde and his lady were generally well dressed; but, as strange as it may appear, they were always accompanied in their morning walks by their son, a lad of fourteen, his entire costume consisting of a Panama hat. In the evening of the day of our arrival, we observed our worthy boatman making himself familiar around the American tents. Soon the police were on the alert, and we were informed that he was one of the most notorious thieves in the country. He had landed back, thinking it safer to come into town at night. We had our baggage carried up, and were soon residents of the American part of the town. I was here put in possession of facts which strengthened my suspicions of the individual who passed down the river on the previous night; and, in the sequel, instead of returning to Gorgona, he, on his arrival at Chagres, hired a native to carry{28} him to a vessel that was about to sail for New Orleans, and in attempting to climb on board he missed his footing, fell into the water and was drowned. His hat came to the surface, but his body was never recovered.

The locals dress similarly to those in Chagres, with some adding half a yard of linen and a string of beads. The Alcalde and his wife were usually well-dressed; however, surprisingly, they were often joined in their morning walks by their fourteen-year-old son, whose entire outfit consisted of just a Panama hat. On the evening of our arrival, we noticed our trustworthy boatman mingling around the American tents. Soon, the police were on alert, and we learned that he was one of the most notorious thieves in the area. He had returned, believing it was safer to come into town at night. We had our luggage taken up, and before long, we became residents of the American part of town. Here, I learned details that confirmed my suspicions about the person who had passed down the river the night before; instead of going back to Gorgona, he hired a local to take him to a ship that was about to depart for New Orleans, and while trying to board, he lost his footing, fell into the water, and drowned. His hat floated to the surface, but his body was never found.

There was, at this time, no means of conveyance from Panama to San Francisco, and people preferred remaining, and consuming their provisions in Gorgona, to paying exorbitant prices to have it transported to Panama. After remaining some days I purchased a horse, and started for Panama, twenty-five miles distant.

There was, at this time, no way to get from Panama to San Francisco, and people preferred staying in Gorgona and using up their supplies rather than paying outrageous prices to have them shipped to Panama. After staying a few days, I bought a horse and set out for Panama, which was twenty-five miles away.

It is a pleasant ride across, being a succession of mountains and valleys, each valley containing a spring-brook of the purest water. Two miles out of Gorgona you enter a mule path running through a dense forest, the branches interchanging overhead, forming an arbor sufficiently dense to exclude the sun. You sometimes pass through gullies in the side of the mountain, sufficiently wide at the bottom to admit the mule and his rider, and looking up, you find yourself in a chasm with perpendicular sides, twenty feet in depth, into which the sun has never shone. Here, as in all Spanish countries, are numerous crosses, marking the resting-place of the assassin’s victim. When within three miles, the country opens, disclosing to the view the towers of the cathedral, indicating the location of Panama. The balance of the road is paved with cobble stones, the work of convicts, who are brought out in chain-gangs. One mile out, you cross the national bridge, a stone structure of one arch; here is also an extensive missionary establishment, now in ruins. When within half a mile of the wall of the city, you pass a stone tower, surmounted by a cross. You are now in the suburbs of the city. The street is paved, and on either side are ruins, some of considerable extent, having been costly residences, with highly cultivated gardens attached. You pass a plaza, on one side of which is an extensive church. You now enter between two walls, which gradually increase in height, as you approach the gate, until, crossing a deep moat which surrounds the city, they are joined to the main wall.

It’s a nice ride through a series of mountains and valleys, with each valley having a spring with the purest water. Two miles out of Gorgona, you hit a mule path that winds through a thick forest, where the branches overhead connect to create a dense canopy that keeps out the sun. Occasionally, you go through gullies on the mountain’s side that are wide enough at the bottom for the mule and rider, and looking up, you see yourself in a chasm with steep sides, twenty feet deep, where sunlight has never reached. Here, like in all Spanish-speaking countries, there are many crosses marking the resting places of the victims of violence. When you’re three miles away, the landscape opens up, revealing the towers of the cathedral that show where Panama is located. The rest of the road is paved with cobblestones, laid down by convicts who are brought out in chains. A mile ahead, you cross the national bridge, a stone structure with a single arch; there's also a large missionary complex, now in ruins. When you’re half a mile from the city wall, you pass a stone tower crowned with a cross. At this point, you’re in the city’s suburbs. The street is paved, and on either side are ruins, some quite large, that were once expensive homes with beautifully kept gardens. You pass a plaza with a large church on one side. Then you enter between two walls, which get taller as you near the gate, and after crossing a deep moat that surrounds the city, they connect to the main wall.

On entering the gate the first thing that presents itself is a chapel, where you are expected to return thanks for your safe arrival. I rode through, put my horse in the court-yard of the

On entering the gate, the first thing you come across is a chapel, where you're expected to give thanks for your safe arrival. I rode through and put my horse in the courtyard of the

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS III NASSAU ST. N. Y. NEW GRANADEAN MOTHER

{29}

“Washington House,” took supper, surveyed the town, and retired. At about three in the morning, I was aroused by a strange noise. On going to the window I saw a procession of nuns and priests passing through the street, escorted by a band of music. They presented a strange appearance. The priests were dressed in black robes and tights, wearing black hats with broad brims, rolled up and fastened to the crown; the nuns, with white scarfs passing over the head and sweeping the round, each carried a lighted taper, presenting the appearance of a procession of ghosts. They would all join in chanting some wild air, when the band would play the chorus. Nothing could be more impressive than such a scene as this. Aroused from sleep at the dead of night, by such wild strains, uttered in such impassioned tones, as if pleading for mercy at the very gates of despair. They seemed like doomed spirits, wandering about without a guiding star, under the ban of excommunication.

“Washington House,” had dinner, looked over the town, and went to bed. Around three in the morning, I was awakened by a strange noise. When I went to the window, I saw a procession of nuns and priests walking through the street, accompanied by a band. They looked unusual. The priests were wearing black robes and tights, with black hats that had wide brims, rolled up and secured at the top; the nuns, with white scarves over their heads and trailing down, each held a lighted candle, resembling a procession of ghosts. They would all join in singing some haunting melody while the band played the chorus. Nothing could be more striking than this scene. Woken from sleep in the middle of the night by such wild music, sung with such heartfelt emotion, as if begging for mercy at the very edge of despair. They seemed like lost souls, wandering without a guiding star, under the weight of excommunication.

I rose early in the morning, bathed in the Pacific, and after breakfast mounted for Gorgona, where I arrived in the evening. I went to a rancho, half a mile distant, for sugar-cane for my horse. I was waited upon by the proprietress who accompanied me to the cane-field, and used the machet with her own hands. After cutting a supply for the horse, she presented me with a piece for my own use, which I found extremely palatable. This lady is one of the most extensive landholders in New Grenada, and one of the most wealthy. She lived in a thatched hovel, the sides entirely open, with the earth for a floor. Her husband was entirely naked, and seemed to devote his attention to the care of the children, of whom there were not less than a dozen, all dressed like “Pa.” She dressed in “Bloomer,” i. e., she wore a half-yard of linen, and a palm-leaf hat. My horse was stolen during the night. I went to the Alcalde next morning, offered him $5 reward, and before night I was obliged to invest another real in sugar-cane for my worthy animal. Money here is a much more effectual searcher than eyes, particularly for stolen horses.

I woke up early in the morning, swam in the Pacific, and after breakfast rode to Gorgona, where I arrived in the evening. I went to a rancho, half a mile away, to get some sugar cane for my horse. The owner helped me out and took me to the cane field, using a machete herself. After cutting some for the horse, she gave me a piece to try, which I found really tasty. This lady is one of the biggest landowners in New Granada and quite wealthy. She lived in a thatched hut with open sides and an earth floor. Her husband was completely naked and seemed to focus on taking care of the kids, of which there were at least a dozen, all dressed like "Pa." She wore a "Bloomer," meaning she had a half-yard of linen and a palm-leaf hat. My horse was stolen during the night. The next morning, I went to the Alcalde, offered him a $5 reward, and by evening I had to spend another real on sugar cane for my poor animal. Money here is a much better way to search for stolen horses than just using your eyes.

After remaining a few days I again started for Panama. It was after noon, and after riding some distance my horse was taken sick. I stopped until evening, when I again mounted, but was soon obliged to dismount and prepare for spending the{30} night in the woods. It was quite dark, and as I was taking the saddle off my horse five very suspicious-looking natives came up, and were disposed to be inquisitive. To rid myself of them, I told them I expected a “companiero.” They left with apparent reluctance. After kindling the fire, fearing they might renew their visit, I put caps on my revolver, preparatory to loading it. As I was in the act of so doing my horse startled, looked wildly about, and, in a moment, I heard footsteps approaching. As they drew near, I thought they were in boots, and consequently Americans. I cried out, “Americano?” They immediately called my name. My surprise and pleasure can well be imagined as I recognized the voices of the Dodges, Shultz, Eiswald, and Hush.

After staying for a few days, I set off for Panama again. It was after noon, and after riding for a while, my horse got sick. I stopped until evening, then mounted again, but I had to get off soon and prepare to spend the{30} night in the woods. It was pretty dark, and while I was taking the saddle off my horse, five very suspicious-looking natives approached and seemed curious. To get rid of them, I told them I was expecting a “companiero.” They left, though it seemed reluctantly. After starting a fire, worried they might come back, I put caps on my revolver to get it ready to load. While I was doing that, my horse got startled and looked around nervously, and then I heard footsteps coming closer. As they got near, I thought they were wearing boots, so I assumed they were Americans. I shouted, “Americano?” They immediately called my name. My surprise and happiness were immense as I recognized the voices of the Dodges, Shultz, Eiswald, and Hush.

After mutual congratulations we prepared supper, and were soon seated around the fire, recalling the incidents of our voyage up the river. The elder Dodge was lying on a trunk near the fire, and late in the evening, as the muleteer was attempting to drive the horses back, one of them took fright, wheeled about, and in attempting to jump over the trunk, his forefeet came in contact with Dodge, knocking him off, and planting his hind feet into his back. We were struck with horror, supposing him dead, but after straightening him up, and washing his face and head, he was able to speak. He was still in a critical condition, and we were obliged to attend him during the night. The next morning, after a long hunt for our horses, we rode a short distance to an American tent, and leaving the Dodges and company, I rode on to Panama. The next day Mr. Dodge arrived, in a very feeble state of health, but eventually recovered.

After sharing our congratulations, we got dinner ready and soon found ourselves around the fire, reminiscing about our journey up the river. Elder Dodge was lying on a trunk next to the fire, and late that evening, while the muleteer was trying to drive the horses back, one of them got scared, turned around, and when it tried to jump over the trunk, its front feet hit Dodge, knocking him down and landing its hind feet on his back. We were filled with dread, thinking he was dead, but after we helped him sit up and washed his face and head, he was able to talk. He was still in a serious condition, and we had to care for him throughout the night. The next morning, after a lengthy search for our horses, we rode a short distance to an American camp, and leaving the Dodges and the rest behind, I continued on to Panama. The following day, Mr. Dodge arrived in very poor health, but he eventually got better.

In a few days I returned to Grorgona, and sold the “Minerva.” She was drawn up into town, inverted, making the roof of the “United States Hotel,” the first framed building erected in Gorgona. On my way back to Panama, as I had got about half way through, I was surprised at meeting Mr. Hush. He informed me that he did not think Panama a healthy place, and that he was on his return to the States. He sat on his horse with a good deal of ease, his feet appearing to have on their best behavior. He could not get them into the stirrups, still they appeared to go quietly along by the sides of the horse. Why he thought Panama unhealthy, was a mystery to some. I am{31} not prepared to say that his party ever insinuated anything of the kind. In the after part of the day, I was over taken by Maj. Sewall, lady, and suite. They descended the mountain, and as they were about to cross the brook at its base, Capt. Tyler, one of the party, dismounted, and as he was crossing over, a double-barrelled gun accidentally discharged within four feet of him, he receiving the entire charge in his hip. This caused the greatest consternation. The Capt. having Mrs. Sewall’s child in his arms, it was feared it had received a part of the charge. This fortunately did not prove to be the case. The Capt. was immediately stripped, the wound dressed, and through the kind assistance of the Engineering corps of the Panama Railroad, who were encamped near, a litter was constructed, and he was taken through to Panama on the shoulders of the natives.

In a few days, I returned to Gorgona and sold the "Minerva." She was pulled into town upside down, making the roof of the "United States Hotel," the first framed building built in Gorgona. On my way back to Panama, about halfway through, I was surprised to run into Mr. Hush. He told me he didn’t think Panama was a healthy place and was heading back to the States. He sat on his horse quite comfortably, his feet seeming to behave themselves. He couldn't get them into the stirrups, but they managed to stay peacefully alongside the horse. It was a mystery to some why he thought Panama was unhealthy. I am{31} not suggesting that his group ever hinted at anything like that. Later in the day, I was caught up by Maj. Sewall, his wife, and their group. They came down the mountain, and as they were about to cross the stream at its base, Capt. Tyler, one of the group, got off his horse. While crossing over, a double-barreled gun accidentally went off just four feet from him, hitting him in the hip. This caused a great panic. Since the Capt. was holding Mrs. Sewall's child, there was fear that the child had been injured as well. Thankfully, that turned out not to be true. The Capt. was quickly stripped, his wound treated, and with the kind help of the Engineering Corps of the Panama Railroad, who were camped nearby, a stretcher was made, and he was carried through to Panama on the shoulders of the locals.

I was detained until the sun had disappeared behind the mountain, and it was with some difficulty my horse found his way. I ascended the next mountain, and in attempting to descend, lost my way. I dismounted, and after a long search, found the gully through which it was necessary to pass. There was not a ray of light—it was the very blackness of darkness—and on arriving at the end of the gully, I was again obliged to dismount, and after groping about for half an hour, found what I presumed to be the path. My horse was of a different opinion. The matter was discussed—I carried the “point.” After riding a short distance, he stopped, and on examining the path, I found that it dropped abruptly into a chasm twenty feet in depth. My horse now refused to move in any direction, which left no alternative but to encamp. I succeeded in finding canebrake, which I cut for him, and spreading out my India rubber blanket, using my saddle as a pillow, I stretched myself out for the night. A most profound stillness reigned through the forest. All nature seemed to be hushed in sleep. Occasionally a limb would crack, struggling with the weight of its own foliage, and once, not far distant, a gigantic tree, a patriarch of the forest, came thundering to the ground. A slight breeze passed mournfully by, as if sighing its requiem, and again all was still.

I was stuck until the sun went down behind the mountain, and my horse struggled to find its way. I climbed the next mountain, and while trying to go down, I got lost. I got off my horse and, after a long search, found the gully I needed to pass through. There wasn’t a single ray of light—it was completely dark—and when I reached the end of the gully, I had to get off my horse again. I fumbled around for half an hour before I found what I thought was the path. My horse disagreed. We discussed it—I made the final call. After riding a short distance, he stopped, and when I checked the path, I realized it dropped sharply into a chasm twenty feet deep. My horse then refused to move in any direction, leaving me no choice but to set up camp. I managed to find some canebrake, which I cut for him, and after laying out my rubber blanket and using my saddle as a pillow, I settled down for the night. A deep silence filled the forest. It felt like nature was sound asleep. Occasionally, a branch would snap under the weight of its leaves, and once, not too far away, a huge tree, an old giant of the forest, came crashing down. A light breeze passed by sadly, as if it were mourning, and once again, everything was quiet.

This solemnity was painfully ominous. There appeared to be something foreboding in the very solemnity that reigned. If{32} I ever realized the companionship of a horse, it was on this occasion; and I believe it was reciprocal, for when I would speak to him, he would neigh, and seem to say, “I love you, too.”

This seriousness felt really ominous. There was something unsettling in the heavy atmosphere. If{32} I ever felt the bond with a horse, it was this time; and I think it was mutual because when I talked to him, he would neigh, almost as if to say, “I love you too.”

In the middle of the night I was attracted by the barking of a monkey, which very much resembled that of a dog. This called to mind home, and caused many a bright fancy to flit through my imagination. I was soon, however, drawn from my reverie by the low muttering of distant thunder, portending an approaching deluge, which, in this climate, invariably follows. It grew near, and was accompanied by the most vivid flashes of lightning. This revealed to me my situation. I was on the side of the mountain, at the base of an almost perpendicular elevation, which was furrowed by deep gullies, giving fearful token of approaching devastation. Very near was a gigantic palm-tree, the earth on the lower side of which appeared to have been protected by it. I removed my saddle and blanket, and my horse, asking to accompany me, was tied near. The lightning grew more vivid, and the thunder, as peal succeeded peal, caused the very mountains to quake. The clouds, coming in contact with the peaks, instantaneously discharged the deluge, which, rushing down, carried devastation in its track. The sight was most terrific. By the incessant flashes I could see the torrents rushing down, chafing, foaming, and lashing the sides of the mountains, as if the furies were trying to vie with each other in madness. In an hour the rage of the elements had ceased, the thunder muttering a last adieu, fell back to his hiding place, and again all was still. My blanket had protected me from the rain; and if I am ever on a committee to award premiums for valuable inventions, Mr. Goodyear will be at the head of my list. I slept until morning, when I had an opportunity of viewing the devastation of the night. I mounted, and at 10 o’clock arrived at Panama.

In the middle of the night, I was drawn in by the barking of a monkey that sounded a lot like a dog. This reminded me of home and sparked many vivid thoughts in my mind. However, I was soon pulled out of my daydream by the soft rumble of distant thunder, signaling an impending downpour that always follows in this climate. It got closer, accompanied by bright flashes of lightning, which revealed my surroundings. I was on the slope of a mountain, at the foot of a steep rise, marked by deep ravines that hinted at looming destruction. Nearby stood a massive palm tree, which seemed to have sheltered the ground on its lower side. I took off my saddle and blanket, and tied my horse nearby, asking it to stay close. The lightning intensified, and with each thunderclap, even the mountains trembled. The clouds collided with the peaks, triggering a flood that rushed down, leaving chaos in its wake. The sight was terrifying. With each continuous flash, I could see the torrents racing down, churning, foaming, and smashing against the mountainsides, as if wild forces were competing in a frenzy. An hour later, the storm passed, with thunder softly fading away, leaving everything quiet again. My blanket had kept me dry from the rain, and if I ever get to be on a committee to award prizes for useful inventions, Mr. Goodyear will be at the top of my list. I slept until morning, when I finally got to see the damage from the night before. I mounted up and reached Panama by 10 o'clock.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS III NASSAU ST N. Y. BATTERY, PANAMA.

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Chapter Seventh.

PANAMA—CATHEDRAL AND CONVENTS—RELIGIOUS CEREMONIES—AMALGAMATION—FANDANGO.

Panama, under the Spanish dominion, was a city of twelve thousand inhabitants, and was the commercial mart of the Pacific. The old city having been destroyed by buccaneers, the present site was selected. The military strength of the city is a true index to the state of the country at the time of its construction; and its present condition a lamentable commentary on the ruthless spirit that has pervaded the countries of South America. The number and extent of the churches and monasteries are a monument to the indomitable zeal and perseverance for which the Catholic Church has been justly celebrated. Old Panama is seven miles distant. An ivy-grown tower is all that remains to mark the spot. The city is inclosed by a wall of much strength, outside of which is a deep moat. It has one main and one side entrance by land, and several on the water-side. The base of the wall on the water-side is washed by the ocean at flood tide, but at the ebb the water recedes a mile, leaving the rocks quite bare. There was formerly a long line of fortifications, but at present the guns are dismounted, excepting on an elbow of the wall, called the “battery.” (See Plate.) In the centre of the town is the main plaza, fronting which is the cathedral, the government house, and the prison. (See Plate.) Here is seen a “Padre,” walking with a señorita; an “hombre,” mounted on a donkey, with a large stone jar on each side, from which he serves his customers with water; a “chain-gang” of prisoners, carrying bales of carna, guarded by a barefooted soldier. And still further to the left is a sentinel watching the prison. I will here state, that most of the Panama hats that are made here, are manufactured in this prison.{34}

Panama, under Spanish rule, was a city of twelve thousand people and served as the main trade hub of the Pacific. After the old city was destroyed by pirates, the current location was chosen. The military strength of the city reflects the state of the country during its construction, and its current condition is a sad reminder of the destructive forces that have affected South America. The many churches and monasteries stand as a testament to the unwavering dedication and perseverance for which the Catholic Church is well-known. Old Panama is seven miles away, marked only by an ivy-covered tower. The city is surrounded by a strong wall, with a deep moat outside it. There’s one main land entrance and one side entrance, as well as several on the water side. The base of the wall by the water is washed by the ocean at high tide, but during low tide, the water recedes a mile, leaving the rocks completely exposed. Once, there were extensive fortifications, but now the cannons are mostly dismounted, except for those on a part of the wall called the “battery.” (See Plate.) In the center of town is the main square, fronted by the cathedral, the government building, and the prison. (See Plate.) Here you can see a “Padre” walking with a young woman; a man on a donkey carrying large stone jars on either side to serve customers with water; a “chain gang” of prisoners carrying bales of carna, watched over by a barefoot soldier. Further to the left, a guard is keeping watch over the prison. I should mention that most of the Panama hats made here are actually produced in this prison.{34}

The principal avenues, running parallel, are “Calle San Juan de Dio,” “Calle de Merced,” and “Calle de Obispo.” There are numerous extensive churches, the principal one being the cathedral. This is a magnificent structure, and of colossal dimensions. In the end fronting the plaza are niches, in which are life-size statues of the twelve Apostles, of marble. It has two towers, the upper sections of which are finished with pearl. The interior was furnished without regard to expense. It is now somewhat dilapidated, but still has a fine organ. The convent, “La Mugher,” is an extensive edifice, being 300 feet in length. The roof of most parts has fallen in, and the walls are fast falling to decay. The only tenant is a colored woman who has a hammock slung in the main entrance. She has converted the convent into a stable, charging a real a night for a horse or mule—they board themselves; they, however, have the privilege of selecting their own apartments. It encloses a large court, in which there are two immense wells, and numerous fig, and other fruit trees. There is a tower still standing on one end of the building, without roof or window; it has, however, several bells still hanging. The convent of “San Francisco,” is also an extensive structure, in a dilapidated state; one part of it is still tenanted by nuns. It has a tower with bells still hanging. These buildings, as well as all the buildings of Panama, are infested by innumerable lizards, a peculiarity of the city that first strikes the stranger. They are harmless, but to one unaccustomed to seeing them, are an unpleasant sight.

The main streets running parallel are “Calle San Juan de Dio,” “Calle de Merced,” and “Calle de Obispo.” There are several large churches, with the cathedral being the most significant. It's an impressive structure and huge in size. At the front facing the plaza are niches containing life-size marble statues of the twelve Apostles. It features two towers, whose upper parts are topped with pearl. The interior was finished lavishly. Although it's a bit run-down now, it still has a fine organ. The convent, “La Mugher,” is a large building, measuring 300 feet in length. Most of the roof has caved in, and the walls are crumbling. The only occupant is a woman of color who has a hammock set up at the main entrance. She has turned the convent into a stable, charging a real a night for a horse or mule—they take care of themselves and can choose their own sleeping areas. It has a spacious courtyard with two huge wells and several fig and other fruit trees. There's still a tower at one end of the building, lacking a roof or windows, but it does have several bells hanging. The convent of “San Francisco” is also a large structure, in a state of disrepair; part of it is still occupied by nuns. It has a tower with bells still hanging. These buildings, like all the buildings in Panama, are overrun with countless lizards, a unique feature of the city that immediately strikes newcomers. They are harmless, but for someone not used to seeing them, they can be an unpleasant sight.

The people here, as in all catholic countries, are very attentive to religious rites and ceremonies, and almost every day of the week is ushered in by the ringing of church and convent bells. The ringing is constant during the day; and people are seen passing to and from church, the more wealthy classes accompanied by their servants, bearing mats, upon which they kneel on their arrival. Almost every day is a saint’s day, when all business is suspended to attend its celebration.

The people here, like in all Catholic countries, pay a lot of attention to religious rituals and ceremonies, and almost every day of the week starts with the ringing of church and convent bells. The bells ring constantly throughout the day, and you can see people going to and from church, with the wealthier classes often accompanied by their servants carrying mats to kneel on when they arrive. Almost every day is a saint’s day, when all business stops to participate in the celebration.

Good Friday is the most important on the calendar. All business is suspended, all attend church during the day, and at night they congregate en masse in the plaza in front of one of the churches outside the walls. Inside the church, held by a native in Turkish costume, is an ass, mounted on which is a

Good Friday is the most significant day on the calendar. All business is put on hold, everyone goes to church during the day, and at night they gather en masse in the plaza in front of one of the churches outside the walls. Inside the church, there’s an ass, ridden by a native in traditional Turkish clothing, which is a

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, III NASSAU ST. N.Y. GRAND CATHEDRAL, PANAMA.

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life-size wax figure of the Saviour. There are also life-size figures of Mary, St. Peter, St. Paul, and St. John, each mounted on a car, and each car illuminated by one hundred tapers, which are set in candelabras of silver, and borne by sixteen men. Incense is burned, a chant is sung accompanied by the organ, and at the ringing of a small bell, all rise from their knees; the bell rings again, and the procession moves. The ass is first led out, followed by the figures of Mary and the Apostles in order; next, the band of music and the procession follows, which is illuminated by innumerable tapers. They move toward the main gate, all joining in the chant. The passage of the first of the procession through the gate, is announced by the simultaneous discharge of rockets which illumine the very heavens. The discharging of rockets is continued, and, after passing through the principal streets, they return to the church and deposit the images. They again return to the city, seize an effigy of Judas Iscariot and after hanging it up by the neck, cut it down and burn it. The celebration closes with the usual night procession of nuns and priests. These celebrations and processions are conducted with the greatest solemnity, the people all engaging in them as if they thought them indispensable to salvation.

life-size wax figure of the Savior. There are also life-size figures of Mary, St. Peter, St. Paul, and St. John, each placed on a cart, and each cart illuminated by one hundred candles, which are held in silver candelabras carried by sixteen men. Incense is burned, a chant is sung accompanied by the organ, and at the ringing of a small bell, everyone rises from their knees; the bell rings again, and the procession begins. The donkey is led out first, followed by the figures of Mary and the Apostles in order; next, the band plays, and the procession moves, illuminated by countless candles. They head toward the main gate, all joining in the chant. The passage of the first group in the procession through the gate is signaled by the simultaneous firing of rockets that light up the sky. The firing of rockets continues, and after traveling through the main streets, they return to the church and place the images. They then go back into the city, grab an effigy of Judas Iscariot, and after hanging it by the neck, cut it down and burn it. The celebration ends with the usual night procession of nuns and priests. These celebrations and processions are carried out with the utmost seriousness, with everyone participating as if they believe it is essential for their salvation.

The priests are quite ultra in their dress, wearing a black silk gown, falling below the knee, black silk tights, patent-leather shoes, fastened with immense silver buckles, a black hat, the brim of the most ungovernable dimensions, rolled up at the sides and fastened on the top of the crown. Their zeal in religion is equalled only by their passion for gaming and cock-fighting. It appears strange to see men of their holy calling enter the ring with a cock under each arm, gafted for the sanguinary conflict, and, when the result is doubtful, enter into a most unharmonious wrangle, with the faithful under their charge.

The priests have an extravagant style, sporting long black silk gowns that fall below the knee, black silk tights, and shiny patent-leather shoes secured with large silver buckles. They wear a black hat with an unusually wide brim, rolled up on the sides and secured on top. Their enthusiasm for religion is matched only by their love for gambling and cockfighting. It's odd to see men of their religious stature step into the ring with a rooster under each arm, ready for a brutal fight, and when the outcome is uncertain, they get into a loud argument with the congregation they oversee.

The citizens of Panama are composed of all grades of color, from the pure Sambo, (former slaves or their descendants,) to the pure Castilian. The distinctive lines of society are not very tightly drawn. At the fandangoes all colors are represented, and a descendant of Spain will select, as a partner, one of the deepest dye. In this hot climate the waltz or quadrille soon throws all parties into a most profuse perspiration, which causes that other{36} characteristic of the African race to manifest itself. I would recommend my American friends to select partners of the lighter color, as I am not prepared to say the odor is altogether pleasant. The order of the evening is to fill the floor; the music and dance commence; when a gentleman gives out, another takes his partner, and so on, until it is time for refreshments. The ladies never tire.

The people of Panama have a mix of skin tones, ranging from those of pure African descent (former slaves or their descendants) to those of pure Spanish descent. The boundaries of society aren’t very strict. At social events, all skin tones are present, and someone with Spanish heritage may choose a partner of a much darker complexion. In this warm climate, dancing the waltz or quadrille quickly makes everyone sweat a lot, which highlights a feature associated with the African descent. I suggest my American friends pick partners with lighter skin tones, as I can't say the smell is particularly pleasant. The evening's agenda is to fill the dance floor; music and dancing start, and when one gentleman gets tired, another steps in with his partner, continuing until it's time for refreshments. The ladies never seem to tire.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS III NASSAU ST. N. Y. THE ISLANDS, FROM PANAMA

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Chapter Eighth.

BAY OF PANAMA—ISLANDS—SOLDIERS—ARRIVAL OF $1,000,000 IN GOLD AND SILVER—A CONDUCTA—“BUNGOES” “UP” FOR CALIFORNIA—WALL STREET REPRESENTED—SAIL FOR SAN FRANCISCO—CHIMBORAZO—CROSS THE EQUATOR—A CALM—A DEATH AT SEA.

In the bay of Panama (called the “Pearl Archipelago,” from the numerous pearls obtained in its waters,) there are innumerable islands, all of great fertility, supplying the city with vegetables, tropical fruits, eggs, fowls, &c. (See Plate.) It is, from these islands vessels are supplied with provisions and water, the latter being obtained at Toboga, one of the largest of the group. A more enchanting scene than is presented from the higher points of these islands, cannot be imagined. The bay as placid as a mirror, Panama in full view, with mountains rising in the background. Looking along down the coast of South America, you see a succession of lofty mountains, some by their conical peaks proclaiming their volcanic origin, some still clouded in smoke, giving token of the fierce struggle that is going on within. Still farther to the right the bay opens into the broad Pacific; that little ripple that is now running out, will go on gathering strength, until it breaks upon the shores of the “Celestial Empire.” Still farther to the right, a tower, shrouded in ivy, seems weeping over the tomb of a city.

In the bay of Panama (known as the “Pearl Archipelago” because of the many pearls found in its waters), there are countless islands, all highly fertile, providing the city with vegetables, tropical fruits, eggs, chickens, etc. (See Plate.) It's from these islands that ships are stocked with supplies and water, the latter being sourced from Toboga, one of the largest islands in the group. A more stunning view than what you can see from the higher points of these islands is hard to imagine. The bay is as calm as a mirror, with Panama visible in the foreground and mountains rising in the background. Looking down the South American coast, you can see a series of tall mountains, some with conical peaks hinting at their volcanic origins, a few still shrouded in smoke, signaling the intense activity happening below. Further to the right, the bay opens up to the vast Pacific; that small ripple moving outward will continue to gain momentum until it crashes on the shores of the “Celestial Empire.” Farther to the right, a tower covered in ivy seems to mourn over the ruins of a city.

In the background mountain succeeds mountain, until the last is buried in clouds. Ships and steamers are lying quietly at anchor; numerous islands are blooming at your feet, clothed with tropical fruits, growing and ripening spontaneously. Nature reigns supreme, the hand of man has not marred her perfection; if his rude habitation is sometimes seen, it is nestling quietly in the bosom of some grove planted by the hand of Nature, interlaced by vines, their tendrils entwining, forming an arbor over his head, and presenting fruit and wine at{38} his door. It seems a paradise. It would seem that man might be happy here. He has not to care for to-morrow, but to partake of the bounties of nature as they are presented. But, alas! man spends his life struggling for the thousand phantasies his own diseased imagination has engendered, while nature has placed happiness within his reach, and only asks contentment on the part of the recipient of her bounties.

In the background, one mountain follows another until the last one is hidden in clouds. Ships and steamers are resting quietly at anchor; countless islands are flourishing at your feet, filled with tropical fruits that grow and ripen naturally. Nature rules here, untouched by human hands; if a crude dwelling is sometimes spotted, it lies peacefully in a grove cultivated by Nature itself, intertwined with vines whose tendrils wrap around, creating a shelter overhead and offering fruit and wine at{38} his door. It feels like paradise. One would think that a person could find happiness here. There’s no worry about tomorrow, just enjoying the gifts of nature as they come. But unfortunately! People spend their lives chasing after the countless illusions created by their own troubled minds, while nature has offered happiness right at their fingertips and only asks for contentment from those who enjoy her gifts.

The markets of Panama, as well as the retail trade in other departments, are under the supervision of females. They are generally well supplied with every variety of fruit from the islands, together with eggs, fowls, &c. The beef and pork are sold by the yard. Beef is cut in thin strips and dried in the sun; this is packed or sewed up in skins, and is an article of export from many of the South American Republics. The inhabitants have a great passion for “fighting-cocks.” There is not a house that is not furnished with from one to a dozen. They generally occupy the best aparments, and, on entering a house, your first salutation is from “chanticleer,” he having a strange propensity to do the loud talking. They also venerate the turkey-buzzard, with which the city is sometimes clouded. They are the carrion bird of the south, and no doubt good in their place, but the most loathsome of all the feathered tribe.

The markets in Panama, as well as the retail trade in other areas, are overseen by women. They are usually well stocked with all kinds of fruit from the islands, along with eggs, chickens, etc. Beef and pork are sold by the yard. Beef is sliced into thin strips and dried in the sun; this is then packed or sewn into skins and is a product exported from many South American countries. The locals have a strong passion for “fighting cocks.” There isn’t a house that doesn't have anywhere from one to a dozen. They typically take up the best rooms, and when you enter a home, your first greeting comes from “chanticleer,” which has a tendency to be quite loud. They also have a respect for the turkey buzzard, which sometimes fills the city. They are the scavenger birds of the South, certainly useful in their role, but considered the most unpleasant of all birds.

The citizens of Panama, as well as of other tropical countries, have the happy faculty of devoting most of their time to the pursuit of pleasure, i.e., they divide time between business and pleasure, giving to the latter a great predominance. Before the innovations made by “los Americanos,” stores were open from 9 to 10 A.M., and 4 to 5 P.M., the balance of the day was spent in smoking, drinking coffee, chocolate, or cocoa, gambling, cock-fighting, attending church, or wooing sleep in hammocks. The city is generally healthy, yet at some seasons of the year, is subject to fevers of a malignant type. It has been visited several times by that scourge the cholera, which swept off many of its inhabitants, and, at one time, seemed destined to depopulate the country. The priests clad themselves in sackcloth, and devoted every moment to the rites of the church, burning incense and invoking the patron saint of the city to stay the ravages of the disease. The vaults in which the dead{39} are deposited, are a succession of arches in mason-work, resembling large ovens. When one of these is full it is closed up, and the adjoining one filled.

The people of Panama, like those in other tropical countries, are fortunate to spend most of their time enjoying life. They balance their time between work and leisure, giving much more importance to the latter. Before the changes brought by "los Americanos," stores were open from 9 to 10 A.M. and 4 to 5 P.M., while the rest of the day was spent on smoking, drinking coffee, chocolate, or cocoa, gambling, cock-fighting, going to church, or napping in hammocks. The city is generally healthy, but at certain times of the year, it can experience severe fevers. It has also faced several outbreaks of cholera, which took the lives of many residents and once seemed like it could depopulate the area. The priests wore sackcloth and dedicated every moment to church rituals, burning incense and praying to the city's patron saint to stop the spread of the disease. The vaults where the dead{39} are laid to rest consist of a series of arched masonry structures that look like large ovens. When one of these vaults is filled, it gets sealed up, and the next one is used instead.

The city has a small garrison of soldiers, their only duty being to guard the prison, and conduct prisoners out in chain-gangs to labor, paving the streets, repairing the walls, carrying goods, &c. A gang will be seen in front of the cathedral, in the accompanying plate. The appearance of the under-officers, is ludicrous in the extreme. They are seen parading the streets with an air of authority, in full uniform, and barefooted.

The city has a small group of soldiers, whose only job is to guard the prison and lead prisoners in chain gangs for labor, like paving the streets, fixing the walls, and carrying goods, etc. You can see a group in front of the cathedral in the accompanying image. The appearance of the lower-ranking officers is utterly ridiculous. They strut around the streets with a sense of authority, dressed in full uniform but barefoot.

Soon after my arrival at Panama, one of the British steamers came in from Valparaiso with $1,000,000 in gold and silver. This was deposited in front of the custom-house, and guarded during the night by soldiers; and, in the morning, packed on mules, preparatory to crossing the Isthmus. It required thirty-nine mules to effect the transportation. A detachment of nine first started, driven by a single soldier, armed with a musket, and barefooted. The second, third, and fourth detachments started at intervals of half an hour, each guarded like the first. The mules were driven in droves, without bridle or halter. The route being through an unbroken forest of twenty-five miles, it would seem a very easy matter to rob the “conducta.” But, strange to say, although $1,000,000 per month, for several years, has passed over the route, no such attempt has ever been made. In the immediate vicinity, and overlooking the city, is a mountain called “Cerro Lancon,” which was once fortified by an invading foe, from which the city was bombarded and taken. On the summit a staff is now seen, from which the stars and stripes float proudly in the breeze. This was erected by the Panama Railroad Company, to point out, during the survey, the location of the city.

Soon after I arrived in Panama, one of the British steamers came in from Valparaiso with $1,000,000 in gold and silver. This was deposited in front of the customs house and guarded by soldiers during the night. In the morning, it was packed onto mules to prepare for crossing the Isthmus. It took thirty-nine mules to transport everything. A group of nine set off first, led by a single soldier armed with a musket and barefooted. The second, third, and fourth groups left at half-hour intervals, each guarded like the first. The mules were driven in herds without bridles or halters. The route went through an unbroken forest of twenty-five miles, which would make it seem easy to rob the “conducta.” But, interestingly, even though $1,000,000 a month has passed over this route for several years, no one has ever tried to rob it. Nearby, overlooking the city, is a mountain called “Cerro Lancon,” which was once fortified by an invading enemy, from which the city was bombarded and captured. At the summit, there’s now a flagpole flying the stars and stripes proudly in the breeze. This was put up by the Panama Railroad Company to mark the city’s location during their survey.

Great anxiety was felt by the Americans at Panama to proceed on to California. The sun had passed overhead, and was settling in the north, indicating the approach of the rainy season. Many were sick of the fever, many had died, which added to the general anxiety. Many had procured steamer tickets before leaving home. The steamers had passed down to San Francisco, been deserted by their crews, and were unable to return, and there were no seaworthy vessels in port. The indomitable go-a-head-ativeness of the Yankee nation could not{40} remain dormant, and soon several “bungoes” were “up” for California. Schooners of from thirteen to twenty-five tons, that had been abandoned as worthless, were soon galvanized, by pen and type, into “the new and fast sailing schooner.” These were immediately filled up at from $200 to $300 per ticket, passengers finding themselves. In the anxiety to get off, a party purchased an iron boat on the Chagres River, carried it across to Panama on their shoulders, fitted it out, and sailed for California. The first “bungo” that sailed, after getting out into the bay some three or four miles, was struck by a slight flaw of wind, dismasted, and obliged to put back for repairs. This caused a very perceptible decline in “bungo” stocks. Many took passage in the British steamer for Valparaiso, in hopes to find conveyance from that port. The passengers of one of “the fast sailing schooners” when going on board, preparatory to sailing, found that the owners, in their zeal to accommodate their countrymen, had sold about three times as many tickets as said vessel would carry. Instead of allowing fourteen square feet to the man, as the law requires, they appear to have taken the exact-dimensions of the passengers, and filled the vessel accordingly. The passengers refused to let the captain weigh anchor, and sent a deputation on shore to demand the return of their money; but lo! the disinterested gentlemen were “non est inventus.” After a long search, they succeeded in finding one of the worthies, and notwithstanding his disinterested efforts in behalf of the public, he was locked up. The captain fearing personal violence, left the vessel privately, and for several days was nowhere to be found. The passengers, however, entered into a compromise with themselves, the first on the list going on board. The mate informed the captain and they were soon under way. The owner, who had been so persecutingly locked up, having formerly been an operator in Wall street, resolved to slight the hospitalities of the city, and took his leave when the barefooted sentinel wasn’t looking.

Great anxiety was felt by the Americans in Panama about moving on to California. The sun had passed overhead and was setting in the north, signaling the start of the rainy season. Many were suffering from fever, and many had died, which heightened the overall anxiety. Many had bought steamer tickets before leaving home. The steamers had gone down to San Francisco, been abandoned by their crews, and couldn't return, with no seaworthy vessels in port. The unstoppable determination of the Yankee nation couldn’t stay inactive, and soon several "bungoes" were heading for California. Schooners, ranging from thirteen to twenty-five tons, which had been deemed worthless, were soon turned into “the new and fast sailing schooner” through advertisements. These quickly sold out at $200 to $300 per ticket, with passengers finding their own way. In their eagerness to leave, one group bought an iron boat on the Chagres River, carried it across to Panama on their shoulders, outfitted it, and set sail for California. The first “bungo” that left, after getting about three or four miles into the bay, was hit by a slight gust of wind, lost its mast, and had to return for repairs. This resulted in a noticeable drop in “bungo” stocks. Many took a British steamer to Valparaiso, hoping to find transportation from there. Passengers of one of the “the fast sailing schooners” found that the owners, in their eager effort to help their fellow countrymen, had sold about three times as many tickets as the vessel could accommodate. Instead of allowing fourteen square feet per person, as required by law, they apparently measured the passengers and filled the ship accordingly. The passengers refused to let the captain set sail and sent a delegation ashore to demand their money back; however, the owners were “non est inventus.” After a long search, they managed to find one of the owners, and despite his supposed efforts for the public, he was locked up. Fearing violence, the captain left the vessel secretly and couldn’t be found for several days. The passengers, however, reached a compromise, allowing the first on the list to board. The mate informed the captain, and they were soon on their way. The owner, who had been locked up, previously worked on Wall Street and decided to skip the city’s hospitality, leaving while the barefooted sentinel wasn't watching.

One circumstance that added much to the annoyance of our detention was, that the letters from our friends were all directed to San Francisco, and were then lying in the letter-bags at Panama, but not accessible to us. I felt this annoyance most sensibly. I would have given almost any price for one word of{41} intelligence from home. On returning one evening from Gorgona I was informed by Mr. Pratt, my room-mate, that a gentleman had called during my absence with a letter. I left the supper table to go in search of him; some one knocked at the door; and imagine my surprise and pleasure as Mr. D. Trembley, an old acquaintance from New York was ushered into the room. He had letters for me dated two months subsequent to my departure. He was accompanied by his brother, and I had the pleasure of making the passage up the Pacific in their company.

One thing that really added to the frustration of our delay was that all the letters from our friends were addressed to San Francisco and were just sitting in the letter bags in Panama, but we couldn’t get to them. I felt this annoyance deeply. I would have given almost anything for just one word of{41} news from home. One evening, after returning from Gorgona, my roommate Mr. Pratt told me that a man had come by while I was out with a letter. I left the dinner table to look for him; someone knocked at the door, and imagine my surprise and joy when Mr. D. Trembley, an old friend from New York, walked into the room. He had letters for me that were dated two months after I left. He was with his brother, and I was happy to make the trip up the Pacific with them.

The prospect, at this time, of getting passage to California was extremely doubtful, and many returned to the States. During the latter part of April, however, several vessels arrived in port, and were “put up” for San Francisco. I had sent to New York for a steamer ticket—which was due, but there being no steamer in port, and being attacked with the fever, I was advised to leave at the earliest possible moment. I secured passage in the ship “Niantic,” which was to sail on the 1st of May. On the morning of that day bungoes commenced plying between the shore and ship, which was at anchor some five miles out, and at 4 P.M., all the passengers were on board. The captain was still on shore, and there was an intense anxiety manifested. Many had come on board in feeble health; some who had purchased tickets had died on shore; many on board were so feeble that they were not expected to live. I was one of the number; we all felt that getting to sea was our only hope, and all eyes were turned toward shore, fearing the captain might be detained. At half-past five his boat shoved off, when all on board were electrified. As he neared the ship all who were able prepared to greet him, and some, whose lungs had been considered in a feeble and even precarious state, burst out into the most vociferous acclamations. The captain mounted the quarter-deck and sung out, “Heave ahead,” when the clanking of the chain and windlass denoted that our anchor was being drawn from its bed. At half-past six the “Niantic” swung from her moorings, and was headed for the mouth of the “Gulf of Panama.” Again the shouts were deafening. No reasonable politician could have wished a greater display of enthusiasm, and a nominee would consider his election quite{42} certain, whose pretensions were backed up by two hundred and forty pairs of such lungs. We had a light breeze and moored slowly out—the lights of the city gradually settling below the horizon. As we passed the islands an occasional light would appear and immediately vanish. Soon all nature was shrouded in darkness, and with the exception of an occasional creaking of the wheel, and a slight ripple at the prow, everything was still.

The chances of getting a ticket to California were pretty slim at this time, and many people went back to the States. However, toward the end of April, several ships arrived in port and were getting ready to go to San Francisco. I had ordered a steamer ticket from New York, which was supposed to arrive, but since there was no steamer in port and I had come down with a fever, I was advised to leave as soon as possible. I managed to get a ticket on the ship “Niantic,” which was set to sail on May 1st. On the morning of that day, small boats began ferrying passengers between the shore and the ship, which was anchored about five miles out. By 4 P.M., all the passengers were on board. The captain was still on land, and everyone was extremely anxious. Many people who had come on board were in poor health; some who had bought tickets had passed away on shore; and many on the ship were so weak that they weren’t expected to survive. I was one of them; we all believed that getting to sea was our only hope, and everyone watched the shore, worried the captain might be delayed. At 5:30, his boat pushed off, and everyone on board was buzzing with excitement. As he approached the ship, those who were able got ready to greet him, and some, whose health had been considered fragile, burst into loud cheers. The captain stepped onto the quarterdeck and called out, “Heave ahead,” signaling that our anchor was being lifted. At 6:30, the “Niantic” pulled away from the dock and headed for the mouth of the “Gulf of Panama.” The cheers were deafening. No sensible politician could have wished for a more enthusiastic crowd, and a nominee would feel assured of their election with two hundred and forty pairs of such lungs backing them. We caught a light breeze and slowly moored away—the city lights gradually disappearing below the horizon. As we passed the islands, an occasional light would flicker on and then vanish. Soon all of nature was cloaked in darkness, and aside from a few creaks from the wheel and a slight ripple at the front, everything was quiet.

In the morning we were running down along the coast of South America, the captain wishing to cross the equator, in order to fall in with the trade winds. We passed along very near the coast, having the Andes constantly in view, some of the peaks towering up, their heads buried in the blue ether of Heaven.

In the morning, we were racing down the coast of South America, the captain wanting to cross the equator to catch the trade winds. We stayed close to the coast, with the Andes always in sight, some peaks rising high, their tops lost in the blue sky.

We were often saluted by whales, sometimes coming up near the ship, throwing up a column of water, and passing under our keel, displaying to us their gigantic dimensions. We would sometimes run into schools of porpoises, extending almost to the horizon in every direction. We were constantly followed by sharks, accompanied by their pilots—the latter a most beautiful fish, from eight to twelve inches in length, striped in white and grey. It seemed strange that they should have been created to act as pilots to the “terror of the deep.” The shark is always accompanid by one, and sometimes two or three. They generally swim a little in advance, but sometimes nestle along on the back of their huge master—as if to rest, and in case of emergency, are said to take refuge in his mouth.

We were often greeted by whales, sometimes surfacing near the ship, shooting up a spray of water, and passing beneath us, showing off their massive size. Occasionally, we would encounter schools of porpoises stretching as far as the eye could see in every direction. Sharks constantly followed us, accompanied by their pilots—gorgeous fish about eight to twelve inches long, striped in white and gray. It seemed odd that they were made to guide the “terror of the deep.” The shark is always accompanied by one, and sometimes two or three. They usually swim a bit ahead, but sometimes rest on the back of their huge companion—as if to take a break, and in case of danger, it’s said they seek refuge in its mouth.

On the 6th we came in sight of “Chimborazo,” the highest peak of the Andes, and the highest mountain on the western continent. It appears to penetrate the very heavens. It was surmounted by belts or layers of clouds, with sufficient space between to disclose the mountain. Below and above the first belt there was vegetation, above the second sterility, above the third, and towering on up, a covering of eternal snow.

On the 6th, we finally saw “Chimborazo,” the tallest peak of the Andes and the highest mountain in the western hemisphere. It seemed to reach all the way into the sky. It was topped with bands of clouds, with enough gaps to reveal the mountain beneath. There was vegetation both below and above the first cloud band, but above the second was barren land, and above the third, rising even higher, was a blanket of eternal snow.

On the 12th we reached the Gallipagos islands, a group of volcanic formation, directly under the equator. They are not inhabited by man, but are the home of the terrapin. We passed very near, but as it was almost sunset, we did not lower our boat. We crossed the equator, and made one degree south{43} latitude. Then standing west, in order to fall in with the trade winds, we reached 110° west longitude. We then headed north on our course to San Francisco, but there was no wind. We had a calm for several days, accompanied with rain and mist. The weather was excessively hot, causing everything on board to mildew. Our clothes, boots, trunks, &c., were covered with mould. Those who were sick became worse, and others were attacked. Our ship rolled about like a log, without sufficient air to cause a ripple. There was a general uneasiness manifested, and something foreboding in every face; all were indisposed; we felt that there was a destitution of vitality in the atmosphere. On the 6th of June one of the passengers was attacked with the ship-fever, which immediately proved fatal. He died at three o’clock in the morning, and at ten was brought out, sewed up in canvas, and laid upon the gang plank. A bag of sand was tied to his feet, a prayer read, and, at the signal, the end of the plank was raised, and he slid gently into his grave. It being calm, we watched the spot until the last bubble had risen to the surface. This was to us an afflicting scene; a gloom seemed to rest upon every countenance. That one of our number should have been taken away by a disease thought to be contagious, and one so malignant in its character, gave rise to emotions of the most painful dejection. The ship was immediately cleansed, disinfecting fluid was distributed profusely, and we escaped the farther appearance of the disease.{44}

On the 12th, we arrived at the Galapagos Islands, a group of volcanic formations right on the equator. They aren’t inhabited by humans but are home to the tortoise. We passed by quite closely, but since it was almost sunset, we didn’t launch our boat. We crossed the equator and moved one degree south latitude. Then, heading west to catch the trade winds, we reached 110° west longitude. After that, we turned north toward San Francisco, but there was no wind. We experienced several days of calm, with rain and mist. The weather was extremely hot, making everything on board damp. Our clothes, boots, trunks, etc., were covered in mold. Those who were sick got worse, and more people started feeling ill. Our ship rolled around like a log, with not enough air to create a ripple. There was a general sense of unease, and a foreboding look on every face; everyone felt unwell; we sensed a lack of vitality in the air. On June 6th, one of the passengers came down with ship fever, which quickly became fatal. He died at three in the morning, and by ten, he was taken out, wrapped in canvas, and placed on the gangplank. A bag of sand was tied to his feet, a prayer was said, and at the signal, the end of the plank was raised, allowing him to slide gently into his grave. Since it was calm, we watched the spot until the last bubble rose to the surface. This was a distressing scene for us; a gloom seemed to settle over every face. The fact that one of our group had been taken away by a disease believed to be contagious and so serious in nature led to feelings of deep sadness. The ship was immediately cleaned, disinfectant was spread generously, and we avoided further outbreaks of the disease.{44}

Chapter Ninth.

STAND IN FOR SAN FRANCISCO—INDICATIONS OF LAND—THE COAST—ENTER THE “GOLDEN GATE”—INNER BAY—SAN FRANCISCO—LUMPS OF GOLD—NOTES OF ENTERPRISE—SURROUNDING SCENE—GAMBLING.

We soon fell in with the north-east trade winds, which carried us along rapidly, causing us to make so much lee-way however, that on arriving at 38° north latitude, (the latitude of San Francisco), we were at 140° west longitude. We then tacked ship and stood in for the coast of California. We had baffling winds and calms for several days, but falling in with the northwest trades, we were carried rapidly along, the wind increasing until it blew a gale. This lasted for two days. The ship laid over so that her main studding-sail boom touched the water, and on the 1st July the gale carried away our gib. On the 3d, we discovered weeds and logs floating in the water, indicating our proximity to land. We take an observation, and ascertain that we are sixty miles from San Francisco. This we ought to make by 8 o’clock the next morning. The passengers are all engaged in packing up. The retorts, crucibles, gold tests, pick-axes, shovels, and tin-pans, are put into a separate bag, and laid on the top; each determined to be the first off for the mines. Each one having conceived a different mode of keeping his gold, one would exhibit an ingenious box with a secret lock, another, a false bottom to his trunk, a fourth a huge belt, while a fifth was at work on the fifteenth buckskin bag, each of 20 lbs. capacity. All were looking to the glorious future with a faith that would have removed mountains, particularly if they were suspected of having gold concealed underneath. On the morning of the 4th, the sun rose in a cloud of mist. We were all expectation and excitement. Some were at mast-head, others in the shrouds, and all on the “qui vive” for land. The fog was so{45} dense we could not take an observation, but still stood in toward land. At 12 o’clock we felt a slight breeze, and the mist rose like a curtain, displaying to our astonished vision the coast of California. A simultaneous shout burst forth, and our very ship seemed to bound with enthusiasm. We find by taking an observation that we are twenty miles north of the entrance to the bay. We had a fair wind, and passed along very near the coast, which is bold and rocky, rising and terminating in the coast range of mountains, and in the back ground the famed “Sierra Nevada,” (mountains of snow).

We quickly caught the north-east trade winds, which sped us along, but we ended up drifting so much that when we hit 38° north latitude (the latitude of San Francisco), we were at 140° west longitude. We then changed course and headed for the California coast. After several days of tricky winds and calm seas, we finally encountered the northwest trades, which pushed us forward quickly, with the wind picking up until it turned into a gale. This lasted for two days. The ship tilted so much that her main studding-sail boom touched the water, and on July 1st, the gale ripped away our jib. On the 3rd, we spotted floating weeds and logs, signaling we were close to land. We took a navigational reading and discovered we were sixty miles from San Francisco, which we expected to reach by 8 o’clock the next morning. The passengers were all busy packing up. The retorts, crucibles, gold tests, pickaxes, shovels, and tin pans were placed in a separate bag on the top; everyone was eager to be the first to hit the mines. Each had a different plan for securing their gold: one had a clever box with a secret lock, another had a false bottom in his trunk, a fourth one had a large belt, while a fifth was busy with his fifteenth buckskin bag, each holding 20 lbs. of gold. All were dreaming of a bright future with an optimism that could move mountains, especially if they thought there was gold buried underneath. On the morning of the 4th, the sun rose through a thick mist. We were filled with anticipation and excitement. Some were at the masthead, others in the shrouds, all alert for land. The fog was so{45} thick that we couldn’t get a reading, but we continued sailing toward land. At noon, we felt a gentle breeze, and the mist lifted like a curtain, revealing the California coast to our astonished eyes. A collective cheer erupted, and it felt like our ship was leaping with enthusiasm. We took another navigational reading and found out we were twenty miles north of the bay entrance. With a favorable wind, we sailed very close to the rugged, rocky coast that rose sharply to the coastal mountain range, with the famous “Sierra Nevada” (snow-capped mountains) in the background.

At 3 o’clock, P.M., we arrived off a bold rocky promontory, which is the north point to the entrance of the outer bay of San Francisco, called “De los Reys,” or King’s Point. We soon changed our course, standing in for the entrance to the inner bay, some twenty miles distant. The air was filled with geese, brant, loons, ducks, &c. We here saw the hair-seal, somewhat resembling a tiger. They would come to the surface, display themselves, and disappear. We saw, also, a very large whale coming directly toward the ship, alternately diving and reappearing, and the third time he came to the surface, he was quite near us. He threw up a column of water, and diving headlong toward the bottom, threw his huge tail into the air. Not wishing to come to anchor before morning, we shortened sail, and all “turned in.”

At 3:00 p.m., we arrived off a bold rocky point, which marks the north side of the entrance to the outer bay of San Francisco, called “De los Reys,” or King’s Point. We quickly changed our course, heading toward the entrance to the inner bay, about twenty miles away. The air was filled with geese, brant, loons, ducks, and other birds. Here, we spotted a seal that looked a bit like a tiger. They would come up to the surface, show themselves off, and then disappear. We also saw a very large whale coming straight toward the ship, diving and surfacing again. On the third time it surfaced, it was quite close to us. It shot up a column of water and dove down, flipping its huge tail into the air. Not wanting to anchor before morning, we shortened sail, and all “turned in.”

In the morning we were a short distance from the “Golden Gate,” the entrance to the inner bay, making for it with a fair breeze. A large ship was abreast of us, making for the same point. A schooner spoke us, and wished to pilot us in, but our captain not relishing California price ($200), declined. The strait through which we were about to pass, is an opening through the coast-range of mountains, about a mile in width, and has the appearance of having been cut through by the action of the inland waters. The capes at either side are bold, and that on the right is fortified. We could not have made a more auspicious entrance. It was a delightful morning, with a fresh breeze, and the tide rushing in at eight knots. When we had made the entrance, we could see through into the inner bay, directly in the centre of which is an island of considerable elevation, which serves as a beacon to inward-bound vessels. The passage in{46} was entirely without interruption, and the scene most enchanting. It seemed to us that the gates had been thrown open, and we ushered in to view some fairy scene. At our left was the little bay of “Saucelito” (Little Willow), where several vessels were lying cosily under the bank, taking in water. Here is a small island, inhabited only by sea-fowl—there a strait which is the mouth of the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers, beyond which the shore of the bay is bold with mountains in the background. We still head toward the island in the centre. At our right, the shore is bold, and still further on, a point of considerable elevation juts out into the bay. The tide is still bearing us along with headlong speed, and we are obliged to take in all sail with the exception of the flying-jib. As we neared the point we changed our course, making as near it as practicable, and, as we round it, San Francisco is spread out before us, where rides a fleet of two hundred sail. We feel that we have attained the acme of our ambition, that we have really entered the “Golden Gates.” We pass along, and passing several vessels, come to the United States man-of-war, “Gen. Warren.” Our patriotism, at this particular time, was not of a nature to be smothered into silence. We took off our hats, opened our mouths, and it was soon evident that our lungs had lost none of their vigor by exposure to the sea air. We passed most of the shipping, and finding a convenient place our captain cried out “haul down the flying jib,” “let go the anchor,” and our ship rounded to, as if willing to rest after a run of sixty-five days.

In the morning, we were close to the "Golden Gate," the entrance to the inner bay, and making our way there with a nice breeze. A large ship was nearby, heading for the same location. A schooner hailed us and offered to guide us in, but our captain wasn't happy with California's price ($200) and declined. The strait we were about to enter is about a mile wide and looks like it was carved out by the action of the inland waters. The bold capes on either side frame the entrance, with the right one being fortified. We couldn't have asked for a better welcome. It was a beautiful morning with a fresh breeze and the tide rushing in at eight knots. Once we passed through the entrance, we could see into the inner bay. In the center was a fairly high island, serving as a landmark for incoming ships. The journey in{46} was completely smooth, and the scenery was captivating. It felt like the gates had opened to reveal a magical sight. To our left was the small bay of “Saucelito” (Little Willow), where several boats were comfortably anchored, taking on water. There was a small island home only to seabirds, and in the distance was a strait marking the mouth of the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers, backed by bold mountains. We still headed towards the central island. On our right, the shore was steep, and further along, a high point jutted into the bay. The tide continued to push us along quickly, and we had to take in all sails except for the flying-jib. As we approached the point, we adjusted our course to get as close as possible, and as we rounded it, San Francisco spread out before us, with a fleet of two hundred sails. We felt we'd reached the peak of our dreams, truly having entered the “Golden Gates.” We sailed on, passed several vessels, and came to the United States man-of-war, “Gen. Warren.” Our patriotism at that moment could not be contained. We took off our hats, cheered loudly, and it quickly became clear that our voices hadn't lost any strength from the sea air. We passed most of the ships and, finding a good spot, our captain shouted, “haul down the flying jib,” “let go the anchor,” and our ship turned to rest after a journey of sixty-five days.

We were immediately boarded by boatmen, and I was soon in a row-boat on my way to the shore. On landing, my first move was for the post-office. I had gone but a few paces in this city of strangers, before some one called my name. I turned around; he did not recognize my six months’ beard, and apologized. I recognized him as a New York friend, and assured him there was no offence, that I was the identical individual he was looking for. I accompanied him to his store, where he exhibited several specimens of gold, weighing twenty-seven ounces, twenty-five ounces, and down to a single ounce. These were no unwelcome sight to me, and served to stimulate the fever. My greatest anxiety, however, was to hear from home, and with the least possible delay, I hurried to the post office. I{47} had heard from home but once in six months, and my anxiety and pleasure can well be imagined, when, in answer to my inquiry, I was handed a half-dozen letters. I went to a restaurant, read my letters, ate a $3.50 beefsteak, and felt as rich as men are generally supposed to feel after a six months’ residence. I could neither get room nor lodgings in town. Many of the business men, and all the transient people, lived in tents. My tent was still on board the ship, and my friend above spoken of, offered me the hospitalities of his own for the night.

We were quickly joined by boatmen, and I was soon in a rowboat heading to shore. As soon as I landed, my first stop was the post office. I had only taken a few steps in this unfamiliar city when someone called my name. I turned around; he didn’t recognize my six-month-old beard and apologized. I recognized him as a friend from New York and assured him there was no offense, that I was indeed the person he was looking for. I went with him to his store, where he showed me several gold specimens, weighing twenty-seven ounces, twenty-five ounces, and down to a single ounce. These were a welcome sight for me and intensified my excitement. However, my biggest concern was hearing from home, so I hurried to the post office as fast as I could. I had only received one letter from home in six months, so you can imagine my anxiety and joy when, in response to my inquiry, I was handed a stack of six letters. I went to a restaurant, read my letters, had a $3.50 beefsteak, and felt as wealthy as people usually feel after living somewhere for six months. I couldn’t find a room or a place to stay in town. Many businesspeople and all the travelers lived in tents. My tent was still on the ship, and the friend I mentioned earlier offered me a place to stay for the night.

In the morning I took my writing-desk, and climbed to an eminence in the vicinity of the city, to write to my friends at home. Seating myself under a cluster of small trees which protected me from the sun, I commenced, and, with the exception of an interval for dinner, spent the day in writing. The scene around me was animated. Everything appeared to be propelled by the most indomitable perseverance. The frame of a house would be taken from the ship in the morning, and at night it was fully tenanted. The clatter of the innumerable hammers, each answered by a thousand echoes, seemed the music by which the city was being marshalled into existence. Ships were constantly arriving; coming to anchor a mile out, they would immediately disgorge their cargoes, which, taken by lighters, were conveyed to the shore, and thrown into heaps, their owners running about to contract for their immediate transportation into the interior. Others were seen rowing off to vessels, which, after receiving their complement of passengers, would weigh anchor and stand for the strait, which is the joint mouth of the Sacramento and San Joaquin Rivers.

In the morning, I grabbed my writing desk and climbed to a high point near the city to write to my friends back home. I sat down under a cluster of small trees that shielded me from the sun and started writing. Except for a break for lunch, I spent the entire day writing. The scene around me was lively. Everything seemed driven by relentless determination. The frame of a house would be taken off the ship in the morning, and by night, it was fully occupied. The sound of countless hammers, each echoing a thousand times, felt like the music that was bringing the city to life. Ships were constantly arriving; they would anchor a mile out, quickly unloading their cargo, which was then transported to the shore by lighters and dumped into piles, as the owners rushed around to arrange for their immediate delivery inland. Others were seen rowing out to ships that, after taking on their share of passengers, would lift anchor and head toward the strait, which is where the Sacramento and San Joaquin Rivers meet.

Towards evening the scene became less animated, and the noise more subdued. I could but look with admiration upon the heightened beauty of the scene, as Nature was about to repose. A smile of approbation seemed to play upon her countenance as she was taking the last view of this, the perfection of her works.

Towards evening, the scene became quieter, and the noise softened. I could only admire the enhanced beauty of the setting, as Nature was ready to rest. A smile of approval seemed to linger on her face as she took one last look at this, the masterpiece of her creations.

The sun is almost down, tinging only some of the highest peaks of the surrounding mountains. The city, extending from the bay up the left base and side of the mountain, is about to cease her notes of enterprise, and light her lamps. At the base, directly under my feet, is an encampment of one hundred tents,{48} occupied by Americans and Chilians. Two hundred ships are lying at anchor, displaying their various ensigns, comprising almost all the commercial nations of the world; and looming up conspicuously in the offing, is the man-of-war, “Gen. Warren,” her majestic appearance proclaiming the superiority of American naval architecture. But the most striking feature in the scene is this beautiful bay; surrounded by mountains which protect it from the winds, it sleeps in perfect calm, the flood and ebb tide carrying vessels in and out, at from seven to eight knots an hour. At this moment, although the wind is blowing in the mountains, the bay is as placid as a mirror. In the centre of the bay is a beautiful island, as if nature had set in pearl one of her choicest emeralds. But “night has let her curtain down, and pinned it with a star.” In the evening I strolled about with my friends, and was surprised to see that all of the best houses on the main streets were gambling houses. The rooms were brilliantly lighted, and each contained several monte tables, loaded with gold and silver coin, together with many rich specimens from the mines. To allure their victims, they were usually furnished with music, a bar, and an interesting señorita to deal the cards. Gamblers understand that the only sure way of making a man courageous is to get him drunk, consequently, at about every second dealing of the cards, all the betters are “treated.” A man bets on a card and loses. His last drink is beginning to effervesce, and, of course, he is too shrewd to let the gambler have his money. He doubles the bet, putting the money on the same card, thinking that a card must, at least, win every other time. I have noticed that gamblers are very considerate, always managing to throw out just the card the victim wishes to bet upon. Again he loses, and again is “treated.” His courage is up: the third time his card must certainly win. The “deal” takes place, and, strange to say, his card is turned up, and seems to say, in its very face that it is to win. In order to win back his former losses, he stakes, this time, half his purse. The other betters and bystanders now begin to manifest an interest in the affair. The gambler now begins to draw the cards, and, lo! the victim’s card don’t win. He is excited; he sees that others are looking at him, and displays the greatest amount of courage by taking another drink, and{49} calling for another deal. Again his card is turned up. It cannot possibly lose four times in succession. He throws on his entire purse. It is lost. He goes out penniless. Another shrewd man was standing by, betting small sums on the opposite card, and consequently had won four times in succession. He had discovered the remarkable fact, that the card opposite the above described unlucky one, would invariably win. He determined to make a fortune by his discovery. The deal takes place, the unlucky card comes out, and he puts a large sum on the other one. The cards are drawn, and, strange as it may seem, the unlucky card wins. This appeared doubly strange to the shrewd man. He took another drink, and felt positive it could not happen so again. Another deal, and the indefatigable unlucky card is again in the field. Again the shrewd man bets, and again the unlucky card wins. The shrewd man displays as much courage as his predecessor, and is soon prepared to leave in the same financial condition.

The sun is just about to set, casting a warm glow on only the tallest peaks of the surrounding mountains. The city, stretching from the bay up the left base and slope of the mountain, is ready to wind down its activities and turn on its lights. Right under my feet is a campsite with one hundred tents, occupied by Americans and Chileans. Two hundred ships are anchored, showcasing their various flags, representing nearly all the trading nations of the world; and prominently in the distance is the warship “Gen. Warren,” its impressive shape showcasing the greatness of American naval design. But the most eye-catching part of this scene is the stunning bay; surrounded by mountains that shield it from the winds, it rests in perfect stillness, as the tide flows in and out, moving vessels at seven to eight knots an hour. Right now, even though the wind is gusting in the mountains, the bay is as calm as glass. In the middle of the bay is a lovely island, almost as if nature placed one of her finest emeralds in pearl. But “night has drawn her curtain down and pinned it with a star.” In the evening, I wandered around with my friends and was surprised to find that all the best houses along the main streets were gambling establishments. The rooms were brightly lit, each filled with several monte tables stacked with gold and silver coins, along with many valuable items from the mines. To entice their patrons, they typically featured music, a bar, and an attractive señorita to deal the cards. Gamblers know that the best way to make a person bold is to get them drunk, so at every other round of cards, all the players are “treated.” A guy bets on a card and loses. His last drink is starting to fizz, and naturally, he’s too clever to hand over his cash to the gambler. He doubles his bet, placing the money on the same card, convinced it must win at least every other time. I noticed that gamblers are very considerate, always managing to throw out the card that the victim wants to bet on. He loses again and gets “treated” once more. His confidence is up: surely, this time his card has to win. The cards are dealt, and oddly enough, his card is revealed, looking like it’s destined to win. To recover his previous losses, he bets half of what he has left. The other players and onlookers now show an interest in what’s happening. The gambler starts drawing the cards, and lo and behold, the victim’s card loses. He’s anxious; he sees others watching him and shows his bravery by taking another drink and calling for another round. Once again, his card is turned up. It can’t possibly lose four times in a row. He bets everything he has. It’s a loss. He leaves broke. Another clever guy was nearby, betting small amounts on the opposite card, and consequently, he had won four times in a row. He discovered the interesting fact that the card opposite the previously unlucky one would always win. He decided to make a fortune based on this realization. The deal takes place, the unlucky card appears, and he places a large bet on the other card. The cards are drawn, and strangely, the unlucky card wins. This was doubly surprising to the clever guy. He took another drink, confident it couldn’t happen again. Another round, and that relentless unlucky card is back in play. He bets again, and once more the unlucky card wins. The clever man shows as much guts as his predecessor and soon finds himself ready to leave in the same financial state.

The bystanders grow a little suspicious. The cards are again dealt, small bets are made and won by the bystanders. The gambler “treats,” bystanders again bet, win, are “treated,” and grow courageous. A better state of feeling exists; the gambler grows more complacent, and treats oftener. All are anxious to bet, the gambler is considered one of the best of fellows—one of that kind of men who would a little prefer losing money to winning it. Again bets are made and won, and all appear anxious to share the gambler’s money, as it is, doubtless, about to be distributed among the fortunate bystanders. All drink and bet liberally; but this time they lose. This is, however, the first loss, and they bet again, but it so happens that they lose this time also. They drink and bet again, and again lose. They now find that they have only half as much money as they commenced with. They now resolve to recover what they have lost, and quit. But, alas! when the victim arrives at this point in the drama, he is lost. He loses every bet, until, seized by a feeling of reckless desperation, he risks all, and is immolated upon the altar of avarice.

The bystanders start to get a bit suspicious. The cards are dealt again, small bets are placed, and the bystanders win. The gambler “treats,” the bystanders bet again, win, are “treated,” and become bold. A better mood settles in; the gambler becomes more relaxed and treats more often. Everyone wants to bet, and the gambler is seen as one of the best guys—one of those who would slightly rather lose money than win it. Bets are made and won again, and everyone seems eager to share the gambler’s money, as it’s likely about to be spread among the fortunate bystanders. Everyone drinks and bets freely; but this time they lose. This is their first loss, but they bet again, only to lose once more. They drink and bet again, and again lose. They realize they now have only half the money they started with. They decide to recover their losses and quit. But, unfortunately, when the victim reaches this part of the story, he’s doomed. He loses every bet, until, consumed by reckless desperation, he bets everything, and is sacrificed on the altar of greed.

Hundreds who have never risked, and who think it impossible they ever could risk, a dollar in a game of chance, are daily drawn into the vortex. They come to town with well-filled{50} purses, the proceeds, perhaps, of six months’ hard labor, to buy the necessary provisions and clothing, get their letters, &c. They meet old friends, drink, go to the gambling house, drink again, and finally bet a small amount, and perhaps win. They bet again, and again win. A feeling of avarice is now excited, and they risk a large sum. But after repeated bets, with varied success, they discover that they are losers. They now make the fatal resolve that they will win back what they have lost and quit; the next moment they are ruined.{51}

Hundreds of people who have never taken a risk, and who think it's impossible they ever could, get caught up in the excitement every day. They come to town with well-filled{50} wallets, possibly from six months of hard work, to buy food and clothes, collect their mail, etc. They reconnect with old friends, drink, visit the casino, drink some more, and eventually place a small bet, maybe even winning. They bet again, and win again. A sense of greed kicks in, and they risk a larger amount. But after several bets, with mixed results, they realize they’re losing. They make the fatal resolve to win back what they’ve lost and then quit; the next moment, they're ruined.{51}

Chapter Ten.

THE “HOUNDS”—VILLAINY—INDIGNATION MEETING—VIGILANCE COMMITTEE.

San Francisco was, at this time, infested by a gang of desperados disposed to repudiate all laws, and be governed only by their own fiendish propensities. They styled themselves “hounds,” and neither life nor property were secure against their depredations. They felt so secure in their strength and numbers, that they did not seek the protection of night, but frequently committed the most revolting crimes at noon-day, and under the eye of the public authorities. They would enter public houses, demand whatever they wished, always forgetting to pay for the same, and, perhaps, before leaving, demolish every article of furniture on the premises. This would be a mere prelude or introductory to a night of fiendish revelry. They would plunder houses, commit the most diabolical acts upon the inmates, murder in case of resistance, then commit the building to the flames to hide their infamy.

San Francisco was, at this time, overrun by a gang of outlaws who rejected all laws and only wanted to follow their own wicked desires. They called themselves “hounds,” and neither life nor property was safe from their attacks. They felt so confident in their strength and numbers that they didn't even wait for nightfall, often committing the most shocking crimes in broad daylight and right in front of the authorities. They would walk into bars, demand whatever they wanted, and always forgot to pay, maybe even destroying all the furniture before they left. This was just a warm-up for a night of cruel partying. They would ransack homes, commit horrific acts against the residents, murder anyone who resisted, and then burn the place down to cover their tracks.

On the first Sunday after my arrival, several of the leaders of the gang returned to town, after a few days’ absence. They crossed over from the opposite side of the bay, having with them a fife and drum, the music of which was accompanied by yells, groans and hisses, such as one would only expect to hear from demons. After landing they marched into the main plaza, and executing a few peculiar evolutions, dispensed with their music, at least the instrumental part of it, and commenced their foray. I was seated in a restaurant as the captain and five of his followers entered. He drew up to a table upon which were several glasses, decanters, &c., together with sundry plates of refreshments. He raised his foot, kicked over the table, smashing the crockery into atoms, then taking his cigar from his mouth said, with the utmost nonchalance, “waiter, bring me a gin-cocktail, G—d d—n{52} you.” After having satisfied their thirst and hunger, they sallied forth without taking the trouble to learn the precise amount of damage done.

On the first Sunday after I arrived, a few leaders of the gang came back to town after a few days away. They crossed over from the other side of the bay, bringing a fife and drum, with music that was accompanied by shouts, groans, and hisses, like something out of a horror movie. After landing, they marched into the main plaza, did some strange moves, then stopped their music, at least the instrumental part, and kicked off their raid. I was sitting in a restaurant when the captain and five of his crew walked in. He sat down at a table that had several glasses, decanters, and various plates of snacks. He lifted his foot, knocked the table over, shattering the dishes into pieces, then took his cigar out of his mouth and said casually, “Waiter, bring me a gin cocktail, G—d d—n you.” After quenching their thirst and hunger, they headed out without bothering to check how much damage they caused.

During the night, after committing several robberies, they entered a Chilian tent, and, after committing the most brutal outrages upon the mother and daughter, murdered the former, and in their struggle with the latter, she, after receiving several severe wounds, caught a bowie-knife from the hand of one of them and, after dealing him a deadly blow, made her escape. She immediately gave the alarm, and although robberies had been committed with impunity, this outrage upon defenceless females, awakened an impulse that was irresistible. The excitement was most intense; citizens flocked together, armed with a determination to meet out summary punishment to the perpetrators of this inhuman outrage.

During the night, after robbing several places, they entered a Chilean tent. After committing brutal acts against a mother and her daughter, they murdered the mother. In the struggle with the daughter, she received several severe wounds but managed to grab a bowie knife from one of them and fatally wounded him before escaping. She quickly raised the alarm, and even though robberies had happened without consequences, this attack on defenseless women stirred an unstoppable response. The anger was intense; citizens gathered, armed and ready to deliver swift justice to those responsible for this cruel act.

Several arrests were made, and, although many were in favor of summary vengeance, better counsel prevailed, and they were put into the hands of the authorities and locked up. They refused to give any information as to the stolen property, but upon searching the tent of an accomplice, various articles were found, and snugly stowed away in a mattress was a large amount in gold dust, the wages of their infamy. A few hours after the above arrests, a demonstration was made by accomplices, in order to force open the jail, and release their comrades. This caused the strongest feelings of indignation, and the citizens assembled en masse in the plaza, all armed to the teeth, determined to avenge this additional aggravation to the atrocious crimes already perpetrated. They immediately organized themselves into a police, and determined to act with decision upon any proposition that might be sanctioned by the meeting. Had a resolution passed to hang the prisoners it would have been carried into immediate effect. Notwithstanding the excitement of the moment, many of the “hounds” had the effrontery to show themselves, and during a speech by one of the citizens, made some menacing jestures, upon which the speaker drew a revolver from his bosom, and with a determined emphasis requested all those who sympathized with the prisoners to separate from the crowd. Had they complied, the determination manifested in every countenance gave fearful token of the doom that awaited{53} them. It was resolved, in consideration of the insecurity of the jail, to transfer the prisoners to the man-of-war, “General Warren.” This was carried into immediate effect, the citizens forming a double file from the jail to the shore.

Several arrests were made, and even though many wanted to take matters into their own hands, better judgment prevailed, and the suspects were handed over to the authorities and locked up. They refused to provide any information about the stolen property, but upon searching the tent of an accomplice, various items were discovered, including a large stash of gold dust, the spoils of their crimes, hidden away in a mattress. A few hours after these arrests, an attempt was made by the accomplices to break open the jail and free their friends. This sparked a strong wave of anger, and the citizens gathered en masse in the plaza, all heavily armed, ready to retaliate against this new provocation on top of the horrendous crimes that had already occurred. They quickly organized themselves into a makeshift police force and decided to take decisive action on any proposals that the meeting might endorse. If a resolution had been passed to hang the prisoners, it would have been executed immediately. Despite the charged atmosphere, many of the "hounds" dared to show their faces, and during a speech by one of the citizens, they made some threatening gestures. In response, the speaker pulled a revolver from his chest and strongly asked anyone who sympathized with the prisoners to step away from the crowd. If they had complied, the determination visible on every face suggested a grim fate awaited them. It was decided, due to the insecure state of the jail, to transfer the prisoners to the man-of-war, “General Warren.” This plan was put into action right away, with the citizens forming a double line from the jail to the shore.{53}

This demonstration secured but five of the numerous horde that infested the city, and it was not to be expected that the arrests of these would prove a salutary check, nor did it. The desperados stood in greater fear of this self-constituted police than of the regular authorities. This organization was undoubtedly the germ from which the “Vigilance Committee” eventually grew. It is well known that, upon the breaking out of the gold excitement, the cities of the world sent forth their vilest scum, consisting of gamblers, pickpockets, murderers, and thieves, and California was the receptacle. They immediately fraternized, and were at once the most adroit, wily and experienced embodiment of villainy with which the prospects of a city were ever blighted. They were not men broken down in their profession at home, but the very aristocracy of crime. Too well-skilled to be detected, they had escaped the meshes of the law in their own country, and resorted to California for its superior business prospects. As if to have the organization complete, the convict islands of Great Britain vomited forth a herd that seemed almost festering with crime. This sealed the doom of San Francisco. She was infested by an organization, the very incarnation of infamy. They would fire the city for plunder, and commit murder to screen themselves from detection.

This demonstration captured only five of the many criminals that plagued the city, and it was unlikely that these arrests would serve as an effective deterrent, nor did they. The outlaws feared this self-appointed police force more than the official authorities. This group was clearly the foundation from which the "Vigilance Committee" eventually emerged. It's well-known that when the gold rush began, cities around the world sent their worst elements — gamblers, pickpockets, murderers, and thieves — and California became their dumping ground. They quickly banded together, forming the most cunning, deceitful, and experienced group of criminals that ever hindered a city's progress. They weren't simply men who had fallen from grace in their profession back home; they were the very elite of crime. Skilled enough to evade justice in their own countries, they flocked to California for better opportunities. To complete the organization, the convict islands of Great Britain unleashed a group that seemed nearly overflowing with criminality. This marked the beginning of San Francisco's downfall. The city was overrun by an organization that was the very embodiment of disgrace. They would burn the city for loot and commit murder to avoid getting caught.

The city had grown to the stature of a giant; all were reaping the reward of their enterprise, when on the 5th December following, the torch of the incendiary was applied, and within a few short hours San Francisco was in ashes. Citizens who had assumed their pillows in wealth awoke in penury. Many, after a year of toil and anxiety, were preparing to return to their families in affluence, but in one brief moment their dreams of happiness were blighted, and their riches a heap of smouldering ruins. The city was immediately rebuilt, but citizens had barely entered their new habitations, when it was again devastated by fire. Again it rose, Phenix-like, from its own ashes, and again business was resumed, but for the third time it was in ruins.{54}

The city had grown to be enormous; everyone was enjoying the rewards of their hard work when on December 5th, a fire was started, and in just a few short hours, San Francisco was reduced to ashes. Citizens who went to bed wealthy woke up in poverty. Many, after a year of hard work and stress, were getting ready to return to their families with plenty, but in an instant, their dreams of happiness were shattered, and their wealth turned into a pile of smoldering debris. The city was quickly rebuilt, but as soon as the residents had barely settled into their new homes, it was struck by fire again. Once more, it rose like a phoenix from its ashes, and business returned, but for the third time, it was left in ruins.{54}

The citizens were appalled. That it was the work of incendiaries no one doubted, yet to detect them seemed impossible, so skillfully were their plans laid, and so adroitly executed. Added to this, the sequel proved that some of their number had got into “high places,” were conniving at their acts, and sharing their ill-gotten booty. This, in part, accounts for the tardy proceedings against those who were arrested, and the numerous reprieves of those who were clearly proved guilty. Property to the value of some twenty millions of dollars had already been destroyed, hundreds of citizens had been reduced from affluence to bankruptcy, others were in momentary fear of sharing the same fate. They had lost confidence in the city authorities, and there seemed no alternative but to take the matter into their own hands. They consequently organized themselves into what was termed a “Vigilance Committee,” with the determination of bringing every suspicious person to a strict account. Many of the most influential and wealthy citizens were the first to enrol themselves, and they called upon all to join them in their effort at self-protection. Their head-quarters was at the engine-house of a fire company, the tolling of the bell being the signal for all to assemble. This well-known signal was always heard when an arrest was made, and became the death-knell to many a wretch, who for his villainies was hastily summoned into another world. The meetings of the Committee were strictly private, none but members being admitted. The proceedings were summary, and if the prisoner was proved guilty his sentence was carried into immediate effect. None were executed, however, without the unanimous consent of members present, this being one of the provisions of their constitution. Those who were executed were not only proved guilty, but confessed their guilt before their execution. Most of those who fell under the ban of the Committee were “Sidney convicts,” and subsequently they were all ordered to leave the country within a specified time, upon the pain of death. The Mayor issued a proclamation against the proceedings of the Committee, and the coroner’s juries summoned over the bodies of those who were executed, found against them; yet it is a question of doubt, whether any one was secretly opposed to their proceedings.

The citizens were shocked. Everyone believed it was the work of arsonists, yet catching them seemed impossible because their plans were so well thought out and executed. To make matters worse, it turned out that some members had infiltrated “high places,” were supporting their actions, and benefiting from their stolen gains. This partly explains the slow actions taken against those who were arrested, as well as the many pardons for those clearly guilty. Property worth around twenty million dollars had already been destroyed, hundreds of citizens had gone from wealth to bankruptcy, and others were constantly worried about facing the same fate. They had lost faith in the city authorities and felt the only choice was to take matters into their own hands. So, they organized themselves into what was called a “Vigilance Committee,” determined to hold every suspicious person accountable. Many of the most influential and wealthy citizens were among the first to join, calling on everyone to join their self-protection effort. Their headquarters was at the fire station, and the bell tolling was the signal for everyone to gather. This well-known signal was always heard when an arrest was made and became the death knell for many criminals, who were quickly dispatched to another world for their misdeeds. The Committee meetings were strictly private, with no one allowed in except members. The proceedings were swift, and if the prisoner was found guilty, their sentence was carried out immediately. However, no one was executed without the unanimous agreement of the members present, as stated in their constitution. Those who were executed were not only proven guilty but also confessed their guilt before facing execution. Most of those targeted by the Committee were "Sidney convicts," and they were all ordered to leave the country within a certain time frame, under threat of death. The Mayor issued a proclamation against the Committee's actions, and the coroner’s juries that examined the bodies of those executed found against them; yet, it remains uncertain if anyone was secretly opposed to their actions.

Persons living in well-regulated communities, and looking at{55} the matter in the distance, may feel disposed to censure the Committee and its proceedings as hasty and precipitate; but, when we take into consideration that not only property to an immense amount, but life itself, was in jeopardy—the want of facilities for securing and retaining criminals during the tardy process of law, the numerous rescues by accomplices, and the frequent pardons by the authorities when the accused were notoriously guilty,—I say, when we take these things into consideration, together with the fact that not an individual was executed who was not clearly proved guilty, and even confessed his guilt; we can look upon the acts of the Committee not only as just—but imperative. In the confessions of some of those who were executed they implicated men in authority, in such a manner that not a doubt was left upon the public mind. The result of these summary measures is apparent to all. Crime, since the organization of the Committee, has decreased one half, and they have now ceased to make arrests, leaving all to the jurisdiction of the proper authorities. They, however, maintain their organization, and would, no doubt, act in case of emergency.{56}

People living in well-managed communities, looking at{55} the situation from afar, might be quick to criticize the Committee and its actions as rash and impulsive. However, when we consider that not just a vast amount of property, but lives were at risk—the lack of resources for detaining criminals during the slow legal process, the numerous rescues by accomplices, and the frequent pardons by officials even when the accused were clearly guilty— I say that when we take these factors into account, along with the fact that not a single person was executed without clear proof of guilt and even confessions, we can view the actions of the Committee not only as justified but necessary. In the confessions of some of those executed, they implicated individuals in positions of power in such a way that left no doubt in the public’s mind. The outcome of these swift actions is clear to everyone. Since the Committee was formed, crime has dropped by half, and they have stopped making arrests, leaving everything to the proper authorities. However, they still maintain their organization and would likely take action if an emergency arose.{56}

Chapter Eleventh.

START FOR THE MINERAL REGIONS—BANKS OF THE SACRAMENTO RIVER—SHOT AT—GOLD VS. MICA—SUTTERVILLE—PRIMITIVE MODE OF LIFE—SACRAMENTO CITY—AN INDIVIDUAL WHO HAD “SEEN THE ELEPHANT.”

I spent the interval between the 5th of July and the 19th in preparing for the mines. I found many of the miners in town on account of the high state of water in the rivers. My friends who had visited the interior, spoke discouragingly of the mines, preferring the mercantile business. But goods were at the time selling at less than New York prices, and rents were enormously high. Many of the merchants were anxious to sell out and go into the mines, and I came to the conclusion that mining was the only sure way of making a fortune.

I spent the time between July 5th and the 19th getting ready for the mines. I noticed that many miners were in town due to the high water levels in the rivers. My friends who had traveled inland were discouraging about the mines, favoring the business side instead. However, goods were selling for less than prices in New York, and rents were extremely high. Many merchants wanted to sell their businesses and head to the mines, and I concluded that mining was the only reliable way to get rich.

On the 19th July I went on board the brig “North Bend,” with three men who had been hired in New York and sent out by a company in which I had an interest, and sailed for the Sacramento river. We crossed the bay, and in an hour were in the strait, running up with a stiff breeze, passing numerous small islands inhabited by water fowl and covered with “guano.” There were innumerable ducks, brant, loons, and geese flying through the air; the scenery delightful, the first fifty miles being a succession of small bays, all studded with islands. At the right the bank rises gradually to the height of from twenty to fifty feet, covered with wild oats, with an occasional “live oak” tree, and relieved by frequent ravines through which small streams find their way to the strait. This plain, during the rainy season, furnishes pasture for heads of wild cattle—elk, deer, and antelope, but at this season they had retired to the marshes and lower lands; and the whole of the right bank, as far back as the eye could reach, appeared one immense field of ripened grain. The left bank, on the immediate margin,{57} presents the same appearance, but relieved in the background by the coast range of mountains with which we were running parallel. This range appears a continuous ledge of granite, destitute of vegetation, and at one point towers up into a peak of considerable height, called Monte Diablo, (Devil’s Mount).

On July 19th, I boarded the brig "North Bend" with three men who had been hired in New York and sent out by a company I was involved with, and we set sail for the Sacramento River. We crossed the bay, and in an hour, we were in the strait, moving along with a strong breeze, passing many small islands filled with waterfowl and covered in "guano." Countless ducks, brant, loons, and geese were flying overhead; the scenery was beautiful, with the first fifty miles being a series of small bays dotted with islands. On the right, the bank rose gradually to heights between twenty and fifty feet, covered in wild oats with an occasional live oak tree, and interrupted by frequent ravines where small streams flowed into the strait. This plain, during the rainy season, provides pasture for wild cattle—elk, deer, and antelope—but at this time of year, they had moved to the marshes and lower lands; the entire right bank, as far as the eye could see, looked like one massive field of ripened grain. The left bank, right along the edge, {57} had a similar look, but was contrasted by the coastal mountain range we were paralleling. This range appeared as a continuous ledge of granite, devoid of vegetation, and at one point, it rose into a peak of significant height called Monte Diablo (Devil’s Mount).

At 12 M., we arrived at Benicia, now a port of entry and United States naval station. The man of man-of-war, “Southampton,” was anchored in the stream—guarding the passage—to prevent smuggling. As soon as we came in sight they lowered their boat, and pulled out toward the middle of the stream, to intercept us, and examine our papers—at the same time hoisting a signal for us to come to. Our captain was an “old salt,” and, in his estimation, the greatest blessing conferred upon man is a fair wind. He had every inch of canvas set, and manifested a determination not to shorten sail; we were running before a ten-knot breeze, and flew by them like a shadow. They hailed us, but not being obeyed they fired a gun from the ship, when our captain ordered the helm put down, and in an instant our sails were fluttering in the breeze; we had distanced the jolly-boat—they being obliged to row half a mile against the current to reach us. The officer boarded us in not the most amiable mood; it was quite apparent that we were enjoying a joke he thought somewhat expensive to himself. He informed us that a foreign vessel had passed them a few days previous; but they were now on their guard and would have given us the next shot in our rigging. He pronounced our papers satisfactory, and pulled off for the ship, being most heartily cheered by us.

At 12 M., we arrived at Benicia, now a port of entry and a U.S. naval base. The warship “Southampton” was anchored in the stream, guarding the passage to prevent smuggling. As soon as we came into view, they lowered their boat and rowed out toward the middle of the stream to intercept us and check our papers—at the same time signaling for us to come over. Our captain was an “old salt,” and he believed that the greatest blessing anyone could have is a good wind. He had all the sails up and was determined not to reduce speed; we were cruising with a ten-knot breeze and shot past them like a shadow. They called out to us, but when we didn’t respond, they fired a warning shot from the ship. Our captain ordered the helm turned, and in an instant, our sails were flapping in the breeze; we had left their little boat behind—they had to row half a mile against the current to reach us. The officer who boarded us wasn’t in the best mood; it was clear that he thought we were having a laugh at his expense. He informed us that a foreign vessel had passed them a few days earlier, but they were on high alert now and would have aimed for our rigging if we hadn’t stopped. He approved our papers and headed back to the ship, receiving our cheers in good spirits.

We were soon under way dashing along at lightning speed; soon arriving at the confluence of the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers, fifty miles above San Francisco, the latter river coming in from the east, the former from the north. The strait up which we had sailed, running in the same direction, is called, by many, the Sacramento river. At the junction of the two rivers there is a marsh, of some extent, in the midst of which is located the “New York of the Pacific,” of newspaper notoriety. I am informed that it now contains one house. There were not so many when we passed up. It is said there has never been a death in the city. We soon entered “Sui Sun{58}” bay, which is an extensive, but very shallow body of water, requiring careful pilotage to take vessels through in safety. We again enter the Sacramento, which now presents a different appearance—the immediate margin being walled up by heavy timber, beyond which the marsh extends as far as the eye can reach. The depth of water on these marshes frequently covers the grass, presenting the appearance of a succession of lakes—all swarming with water fowls. Soon after reëntering the river our pilot brought us to a dead stand by running us on a sand bar. It was ebb tide, and there was no alternative but to await the flood. We loaded our rifles, lowered a boat, and pulled for the shore, preparatory to a hunt.

We were soon on our way, speeding along at incredible speed and quickly reaching the spot where the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers meet, fifty miles above San Francisco. The San Joaquin flows in from the east, while the Sacramento comes from the north. Many people refer to the waterway we traveled as the Sacramento River. At the junction of the two rivers, there’s a sizable marsh, right in the middle of which is the so-called “New York of the Pacific,” known in the newspapers. I've heard it currently has one house. There were even fewer when we passed through. It’s said that there’s never been a death in the city. We soon entered “Sui Sun{58}” bay, an extensive but very shallow area of water, requiring careful navigation for vessels to get through safely. We reentered the Sacramento, which now looked different—the banks were lined with heavy timber, and beyond that, the marsh stretched as far as we could see. The water on these marshes often covers the grass, giving the appearance of a series of lakes, all filled with waterfowl. Shortly after reentering the river, our pilot stopped us dead in our tracks by running us aground on a sandbar. It was low tide, so we had no choice but to wait for the tide to turn. We loaded our rifles, lowered a boat, and set off for the shore, getting ready for a hunt.

On landing, we were greeted by the most ravenous swarm of mosquitos it was ever my fortune to fall in with. They seemed to constitute the very atmosphere, and for size and spirit, I think they are without rivals, even in the “Montezuma swamp.” We did not at first retreat, but soon came to the conclusion that game must be poor, where there are so many bills presented. We carried a few of them on board, and they were so well pleased, they remained till morning. At 10, A.M., the tide flooded us off, and we were again under way. We soon left the river, and entered what is called the “slough,” which is a part of the river running out twenty miles above, and by passing through it, half the distance is saved. On both sides the “slough,” it is densely timbered; the branches hanging over the stream, and many of the trees inclining over, it required the greatest care to avoid their coming in contact with our spars. We had a fine breeze, and each of the passengers took his turn at the wheel. None of them attracted the attention of the captain, until it became my turn. Whether it was that I understood navigation better than my fellow-passengers, I am not prepared to say, but, certain it is, that I had stood at the wheel but a moment, when, without consulting the compass, I found myself at a dead stand in a tree-top. I did not claim much credit for it, and did not receive any.

Upon landing, we were met by the most hungry swarm of mosquitoes I'd ever encountered. They seemed to fill the entire atmosphere, and for their size and tenacity, I don’t think they have any competition, even in the “Montezuma swamp.” At first, we didn’t pull back, but it didn’t take long for us to realize that there must not be much game available with so many bills being presented. We brought a few aboard, and they were so satisfied they stuck around until morning. At 10, A.M., the tide floated us off, and we were on our way again. We soon left the river and entered what is called the “slough,” which is a part of the river that runs out twenty miles upstream, and going through it saves us half the distance. Both sides of the “slough” are densely wooded; the branches hanging over the water, and many trees leaning in, so we had to be very careful to avoid hitting them with our spars. We had a nice breeze, and each passenger took their turn at the wheel. None of them caught the captain's attention until it was my turn. Whether it was that I understood navigation better than my fellow passengers, I can't say for sure, but I realized that I had only been at the wheel a moment when, without checking the compass, I found myself stuck in the treetops. I didn’t take much credit for it, and didn’t receive any.

After cutting away branches, grapevines, etc., we were again under way, with the captain at the wheel. He proved as skillful as myself, and made fast to the first tree-top. We soon reëntered the main channel, and were passing through a more

After cutting away branches, grapevines, etc., we were on our way again, with the captain at the wheel. He was as skilled as I was and tied us to the first tree-top. We soon reentered the main channel and were passing through a more

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. SUTTER 3 miles below Sac City

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. SUTTER 3 miles south of Sac City

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pleasant country, being a succession of forest and plain. At 4, P.M., in passing the mouth of a small stream, we again found ourselves aground, with a prospect of waiting twelve hours for the next tide. A boat was lowered, and some of the passengers went off to hunt. There were fish here in abundance. We offered them refreshments, but they seemed to “loathe the sight.” The passengers who had gone on shore, had disappeared in the forest, but soon two of the number were seen hurrying toward the shore. They pushed off the small boat, and were soon coming over the side of the brig. They appeared much agitated, and, after consulting a friend in whispers, the three started for the shore.

pleasant country, a mix of forest and open land. At 4, P.M., while passing the mouth of a small stream, we found ourselves stuck again, facing a wait of twelve hours for the next tide. A boat was lowered, and some of the passengers went off to hunt. There were plenty of fish here. We offered them snacks, but they seemed to “loathe the sight.” The passengers who had gone ashore had vanished into the forest, but soon two of them were seen rushing back to the shore. They pushed off the small boat and quickly climbed aboard the brig. They looked very agitated, and after whispering with a friend, the three set off for the shore again.

After an hour’s absence, they returned with their handkerchiefs filled with something, which was evidently not for the public eye. It was immediately put under lock and key. From the self-satisfied air and knowing winks of the three fortunate individuals, it was apparent that their fortune was full of hope. After mature reflection, they, no doubt, came to the conclusion, that as there was enough for all, as it was in their power, with a word, to place wealth within the grasp of all, it was their duty to make all happy, without delay, and, with great magnanimity, informed us that they had ascended the stream some distance, and, as they approached the ripple, to their astonishment, they found the water gurgling through pebbles of gold. They had each secured a competence, assuring us that we could go and do likewise. Some evil-disposed person stood by, who informed us that he noticed the same thing, and did not think it was gold. The three above-mentioned individuals, to reassure us, unlocked their trunks, but, lo! their fortunes, like fancy-stocks at the present day, had a downward tendency. It proved to be mica. It had somewhat the appearance of gold, but on separating it from the sand, it was found to be very light, having the appearance of small pieces of gilt paper. It was a most blighting illustration of the adage, that “all is not gold that glitters,” particularly to the three above-mentioned individuals. The bed of the river at this place had the appearance of being constituted of golden sands. The same has been noticed in almost all the streams in California, and has, undoubtedly, given rise to many of the golden reports. At 10, A.M., (Sun{60}day,) we were again under way, the day excessively hot, and at 12, M., arrived at “Sutterville;” and, when opposite the town, found ourselves out of the channel, and aground. We all went on shore, and had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of one of the proprietors, with whom we walked a mile back from the town, to view “Capitol Hill,” the anticipated site of the State House. Although we did not break ground for the cornerstone, we were among the first to know the precise spot. The town is situated four miles below Sacramento City, and three from the fort. It contained three houses, visible to the natural eye, but, to the eye of the worthy proprietor’s imagination, it numbered many thousands. This had caused a very perceptible rise in the value of city lots.

After an hour away, they came back with their handkerchiefs full of something that clearly wasn’t meant for everyone to see. It was quickly locked away. From the smug expressions and knowing looks of the three lucky individuals, it was clear they were excited about their good fortune. After thinking it over, they probably decided that since there was enough for everyone, and they could easily share their wealth with a simple word, it was their responsibility to make everyone happy right away. With a generous spirit, they told us that they had gone upstream for a bit and, to their surprise, found the water bubbling around pebbles of gold. Each of them had secured a good amount of it, assuring us we could go and do the same. However, a skeptic nearby claimed he had seen the same thing and didn’t think it was actually gold. To reassure us, the three opened their trunks, but, oh no! Their fortunes, much like speculative stocks today, were on a downward trend. It turned out to be mica. It looked somewhat like gold, but when separated from the sand, it was very light and resembled small pieces of gilded paper. It was a stark reminder of the saying, “all that glitters is not gold,” especially for those three individuals. The riverbed at that spot looked like it was made of golden sands. This has been noted in almost all streams in California and likely contributed to many of the golden claims. At 10, A.M. (Sun{60}day), we set out again; it was incredibly hot, and by 12, M., we reached “Sutterville.” When we got to the town, we found ourselves out of the channel and stuck. We all went ashore and had the pleasure of meeting one of the owners, with whom we walked a mile back from the town to see “Capitol Hill,” the future site of the State House. Although we didn’t lay the cornerstone, we were among the first to know the exact location. The town is located four miles below Sacramento City and three miles from the fort. It had three houses visible to the naked eye, but to the imagination of the proud owner, it had many thousands. This had led to a noticeable increase in the value of city lots.

It afterwards became a town of some twenty houses. The owners offered to a company owning the bark “Josephine,” thirty lots provided they would land their effects and make improvements. The proposition was accepted, and the improvements commenced. (See Plate.) A cannon is seen in the foreground which was taken from the Josephine, and used to salute vessels in passing up and down the river, as occasion might require. At the left, are two Oregonians riding at full speed, and in the centre is seen the Indian chief, Olympia, his squaw, and several natives of lesser note. The Josephine is seen at the river bank. She was subsequently sold and sailed for Oregon.

It later became a town with about twenty houses. The owners offered a company that owned the bark “Josephine” thirty lots, on the condition that they would unload their goods and make improvements. The offer was accepted, and the improvements began. (See Plate.) A cannon is visible in the foreground, taken from the Josephine, and used to salute passing vessels on the river as needed. To the left, two Oregonians are riding at full speed, and in the center is the Indian chief, Olympia, with his wife and several other less notable natives. The Josephine can be seen at the riverbank. She was later sold and headed for Oregon.

I here visited a family that had been wandering about since 1845, without having entered a house. There were two men, a woman, and three children, from three months to five years of age. They started from one of the Eastern States, with a wagon, two yoke of oxen, and two cows, passed through Missouri, crossed the Rocky Mountains into Oregon, and finally drove down to California. The children were all natives of the forest except the eldest. They were encamped under a large oak-tree a short distance from the river. The bed was made up on the ground, the sheets of snowy whiteness, the kitchen furniture was well arranged against the root of the tree, the children were building a playhouse of sticks, while the mother was sitting in a “Boston rocker” reading the Bible, with a Methodist hymn-book in her lap. The infant lay croaking on a white flannel-blanket, looking like a blown up life-preserver. While I

I visited a family that had been wandering since 1845 without staying in any house. There were two men, a woman, and three children aged three months to five years. They started from one of the Eastern States with a wagon, two yoke of oxen, and two cows, passed through Missouri, crossed the Rocky Mountains into Oregon, and eventually drove down to California. The children were all born in the wild except for the eldest. They were camping under a large oak tree a short distance from the river. The bed was set up on the ground with sheets that were snow-white, and the kitchen items were neatly arranged against the tree’s roots. The children were building a playhouse out of sticks while the mother sat in a "Boston rocker," reading the Bible with a Methodist hymn book in her lap. The baby lay cooing on a white flannel blanket, looking like an inflated life preserver. While I

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. ENCAMPMENT AT SAC CITY, NOV. 1849. My own tent.

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was conversing with, the woman, one of the men went into the back room to change his linen, i. e., he stepped behind the tree. They were all enjoying good health and appeared happy. I am disposed to think their house will be a poor protection during the rainy season; but for a summer-house, one could not well conceive of one better ventilated.

was talking to the woman when one of the men went into the back room to change his clothes, i. e., he stepped behind the tree. They all seemed to be in good health and looked happy. I tend to think their house won't offer much protection during the rainy season; but for a summer house, it couldn't be better ventilated.

The next morning the flood-tide swept us into the channel, and at ten, we made fast to the bank at Sacramento city. This is at the junction of the American river with the Sacramento, 150 miles from San Francisco. Here, all was confusion and dust, each generating the other. This is the point from which the first move is made, by land, for the mines, and every man was on the run; mule-teams were moving in every direction, some loading, others preparing to load, each surrounded by a halo of dust which rendered mules and driver invisible. We were just in time to find one tree unoccupied, consequently settled down and commenced “keeping house.” We designed to remain in town until the next morning. (See Plate.) This is my own tent. At this time, there were about one hundred houses and tents in town; but it seemed that every man landed with a house, and put it up the, same day. Our brig had no less than thirteen on board, finished even to the glazing. Goods of every description were piled up on the river-bank, awaiting the carman. The owners were, in many instances, obliged to erect temporary shelters and sell them on the ground.

The next morning, the strong current took us into the channel, and by ten, we were tied up to the bank at Sacramento city. This spot is where the American River meets the Sacramento, 150 miles from San Francisco. It was complete chaos and dust, each making the other worse. This is the starting point for everyone heading to the mines, and every man was in a hurry; mule teams were moving in all directions, some loading, others getting ready to load, each surrounded by a cloud of dust that made the mules and their drivers nearly invisible. We managed to find one tree that wasn’t occupied, so we settled down and started "keeping house." We planned to stay in town until the next morning. (See Plate.) This is my own tent. At that time, there were about one hundred houses and tents in town, but it felt like every man arrived with a house and set it up the same day. Our ship had no fewer than thirteen completed houses on board, fully finished down to the glazing. Goods of all kinds were stacked on the riverbank, waiting for the cartman. In many cases, the owners had to quickly put up temporary shelters and sell them on-site.

I met several persons who had been in the mines and seen the “Elephant.” Among others, a fellow passenger on the “Niantic.” He had been in the country two weeks, and in the mines half an hour. He had just returned, and was traveling through town trying to sell his utensils, preparatory to returning to the States. He was completely decorated with his wares, and looked like a country kitchen in disorder. He had a pair of grained boots and a smoked ham in one hand, a piece of perforated sheet-iron, a coffee-pot and frying-pan in the other, a pair of long India Rubber boots, with pants attached, thrown over one shoulder, and a pair of blankets under the arm. Over the other shoulder, was a long-handled shovel, from which was suspended a camp-kettle, containing a pepper-box, a pair of mining shoes, a piece of smoked beef, a Spanish grammar, several sea-biscuit,{62} a pick-axe without a handle, and one pound each of sugar, coffee and bar-soap. All the above were offered at cost “to close the concern.” Every thing here was on the highest key. The town was only two months old, and lots were commanding New York prices. I was advised to embark in trade; but my heart was in the high-land, and the next morning at nine o’clock, we were moving for the interior, a party of a dozen having hired a six mule-team.

I met several people who had been in the mines and seen the “Elephant.” Among them was a fellow passenger on the “Niantic.” He had been in the country for two weeks and in the mines for half an hour. He had just returned and was traveling through town trying to sell his gear before heading back to the States. He was completely covered in his stuff, looking like a messy country kitchen. He had a pair of worn boots and a smoked ham in one hand, a piece of perforated sheet metal, a coffee pot, and a frying pan in the other, a pair of long rubber boots with pants attached thrown over one shoulder, and a pair of blankets under his arm. Over the other shoulder was a long-handled shovel, from which hung a camp kettle that contained a pepper shaker, a pair of mining boots, a piece of smoked beef, a Spanish grammar book, several hardtack biscuits, a pickaxe without a handle, and one pound each of sugar, coffee, and bar soap. All of these were offered at cost “to close the concern.” Everything was at a premium. The town was only two months old, and lots were going for New York prices. I was encouraged to get into business, but my heart was in the highlands, and the next morning at nine o'clock, we set out for the interior, a group of a dozen having rented a six-mule team.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS 111. NASSAU ST. N. Y. SUTTERS FORT 1849

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Chapter Twelve.

SUTTER’S FORT—A HERD OF CATTLE—“LASSOING”—RIO DE LOS AMERICANOS—A DISAPPOINTED HUNTER—A CALIFORNIAN SERENADE—A MULE AND HIS RIDER—PARTING COMPANY—THIRST—SERENADES SUPPORTED BY DIRECT TAXATION—SIERRA NEVADAS.

SUTTER’S FORT—A HERD OF CATTLE—“LASSOING”—RIO DE LOS AMERICANOS—A DISAPPOINTED HUNTER—A CALIFORNIAN SERENADE—A MULE AND HIS RIDER—PARTING WAYS—THIRST—SERENADES FUNDED BY DIRECT TAXATION—SIERRA NEVADAS.

We drove out a mile, to the margin of an extensive plain, where we stopped at a well, filled our flasks, and moved on, a gentleman who had a friend in the hospital at the fort, and myself, going in advance of the team. The fort at the time of its construction, was an extensive work, but now it is all in ruins excepting the inner inclosure, in which are situated the dwelling, hospital and out-houses. (See Plate). It is constructed of adobes, or unburned brick, prepared and laid up by Indian labor; and I will here remark, that the Indians on the ranchos in California, are considered as stock, and are sold with it as cattle, and the purchaser has the right to work them on the rancho, or take them into the mines. They are extremely squalid in appearance, and in the most abject servitude. I have never found the natives, anywhere, in a condition so degraded. We found the sick man in a very feeble state, having been in the hospital six weeks with dysentery, which he had contracted in the mines; and at this time there was but little hope of his recovery.

We drove out a mile to the edge of a wide plain, where we stopped at a well, filled our flasks, and continued on. A man who had a friend in the hospital at the fort and I went ahead of the team. At the time it was built, the fort was quite large, but now it’s mostly in ruins except for the inner enclosure, which contains the living quarters, hospital, and outbuildings. (See Plate). It was made of adobe, or unburned brick, prepared and built by Indian labor. I should mention that the Indians on the ranchos in California are treated like property and sold along with cattle, giving the buyer the right to work them on the ranch or take them to the mines. They appear very unkempt and are in the lowest state of servitude. I have never seen the native people anywhere in such a degraded condition. We found the sick man in a very weak state, having been in the hospital for six weeks with dysentery, which he contracted in the mines; and at that point, there was little hope for his recovery.

The fort is situated in the midst of an extensive plain, three miles from Sacramento city, and the same distance from the ferry and ford of the American river, (Rio Del Americano). It is said the proprietor, in one season, harvested nearly two thousand acres of wheat. At some distance back of the fort we saw grazing one of those immense herds of cattle for which California has been celebrated, (see Plate,) estimated at from two to three thousand head. Before the gold was discovered hides and tallow were the only articles of export, and cattle were raised and slaughtered for these articles alone. They run{64} in large herds, feeding on the marshes in summer, and on the plains during the rainy season, kept from the grain by ditches and embankments, with which the fields are surrounded. They receive no care from the proprietors, and consequently are shy, and taken only with the “lasso.” These are made of raw hide, cut and platted like a whip-lash about fifty feet in length, and the size of the finger. It has a small loop or pully in one end, through which the other is passed and drawn up to a coil about five feet in diameter. The other end is then fastened to the pommel of the saddle; the rider taking the coil in his right hand coils the balance to the same size, and mounts.

The fort is located in the middle of a large plain, three miles from Sacramento city and the same distance from the ferry and crossing of the American River (Rio Del Americano). It's said the owner once harvested nearly two thousand acres of wheat in a single season. Not far behind the fort, we saw one of those massive cattle herds that California is famous for (see Plate), estimated to have between two and three thousand head. Before gold was discovered, hides and tallow were the only exports, and cattle were raised and slaughtered solely for those products. They roam in large herds, grazing on the marshes in summer and on the plains during the rainy season, kept away from the grain by ditches and embankments surrounding the fields. They require no care from their owners and are therefore skittish, caught only with a “lasso.” These lassos are made from rawhide, braided and cut like a whip, about fifty feet long and the size of a finger. One end has a small loop or pulley through which the other end is passed and pulled tight to form a coil about five feet in diameter. The other end is then attached to the saddle pommel; the rider takes the coil in their right hand, coiling the rest to the same size, and then mounts.

There are probably no better horsemen in the world, not excepting the Cossacks, than the whites, half-breeds, and some of the Indians of California. It has been said, that their only homes are upon the backs of their horses, and nothing could possibly exceed the spirit and reckless daring displayed on an occasion like this. Their dresses are extremely picturesque. A high crowned hat with a black glazed covering, trimmed with a gold-lace band and bell-buttons; a hunting shirt fastened at the waist by a blue or red sash, and a belt containing a brace of pistols, black velvet breeches, open at the side of the leg, the edges trimmed with bell-buttons, showing the white drawers underneath. Below the knee the leg is dressed in tanned skins, which are wound around and fastened with strings; a pair of boots with a pair of massive iron spurs, trimmed with heavy chains; the hind tree, as well as the pommel of the saddle, rises quite abruptly, enabling one to retain his seat either at a rear or plunge of his horse; the pommel terminating in an eagle’s head, which prevents the lasso from slipping from the neck. The trimming of the saddle covers the entire back of the horse, the stirrups are of wood, made very large, with a leather covering in front, protecting the foot and leg from mud, brush, &c.; the bridle has a heavy iron bit and generally but one rein.

There are probably no better horse riders in the world, not even the Cossacks, than the whites, mixed-race individuals, and some of the Indians from California. It’s been said that their only homes are on the backs of their horses, and nothing could match the spirit and reckless bravery shown in situations like this. Their outfits are extremely striking. They wear high-crowned hats with shiny black covering, trimmed with a gold-lace band and bell-buttons; a hunting shirt tied at the waist with a blue or red sash, and a belt holding a couple of pistols, black velvet pants that are open on the sides, with the edges trimmed with bell-buttons, showing the white undergarments underneath. Below the knee, their legs are covered in tanned skins, wrapped around and secured with strings; they wear boots with big iron spurs, adorned with heavy chains; the back of the saddle rises sharply, allowing them to stay seated whether the horse is rearing or plunging; the pommel ends in an eagle’s head, which keeps the lasso from slipping off the neck. The saddle is fully decorated, covering the whole back of the horse, the stirrups are large wooden ones with leather coverings in front to protect the foot and leg from mud, brush, etc.; the bridle has a heavy iron bit and usually just one rein.

Thus mounted, a party of fifteen or twenty will approach a herd of cattle, horses, or elk, as the case may be. As they approach the herd takes fright, one snorts and starts, which is a signal for all, and they dash away. The horsemen, each selecting his victim, now bear down upon them with the speed of lightning. The herd, now aware of their pursuit, redouble

Thus mounted, a group of fifteen or twenty will get close to a herd of cattle, horses, or elk, depending on the situation. As they get nearer, the herd gets scared; one animal snorts and bolts, which signals the rest, and they all take off. The horsemen, each picking their target, rush toward them at lightning speed. The herd, now realizing they’re being chased, picks up the pace.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. REAR OF SUTTERS FORT, during the spring months.

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their energies, straining every nerve, the earth fairly quaking beneath their hoofs. The horses, as they near, display as much enthusiasm as their riders, and seem to scorn the very earth. They are now upon them. The herd, frantic and dismayed, begin to scatter. The horse now sees his victim and bounds with the most reckless impetuosity. The horseman, now rising in his saddle, throws his weight into the left stirrup, and with his right hand swings the lasso until the coil is sufficiently open, when it flies with the velocity and precision of an arrow, taking effect around the horns or neck of the victim. The horse, understanding the business, now slackens his speed, and prepares for the first shock, by taking a bracing position. The victim straitens the lasso, bounds into the air, and falls to the ground. The horseman dismounts, keeping his left foot in the stirrup, to help counteract the frantic throes of the victim which is now lacerated by balls from his pistols. Sometimes in its phrenzy of madness the victim rushes upon his pursuers, causing a precipitate retreat, and not unfrequently both horse and rider fall victims to their own temerity.

their energies, straining every muscle, the ground shaking beneath their hooves. The horses, as they get closer, show just as much excitement as their riders and seem to disdain the very earth. They are now upon them. The herd, panicked and confused, starts to scatter. The horse now spots its target and leaps forward with reckless energy. The rider, now rising in his saddle, shifts his weight to the left stirrup and swings the lasso until the loop is wide enough, then it flies through the air with the speed and accuracy of an arrow, wrapping around the horns or neck of the target. The horse, understanding what’s happening, slows down and braces for the initial impact. The target tightens the lasso, leaps into the air, and crashes to the ground. The rider dismounts, keeping his left foot in the stirrup to help balance against the desperate struggles of the target, which is now being hit by bullets from his pistols. Sometimes, in its frantic state, the target charges at its pursuers, causing a hasty retreat, and often both horse and rider become casualties of their own recklessness.

As our team had not yet arrived, we walked on one mile to Grime’s fort, a similar structure, and I believe the owner is a claimant of Sutter’s claim. We walked on to the river, prepared ourselves and waded through. On the opposite side, as we ascended the bank, we found ourselves on the margin of a plain, stretching away as far as the eye could reach, with nothing but an occasional oak to relieve the monotony. On the bank, a short distance above, is a rancho, to which belongs the ferry, used only during high water. This rancho belongs to the Sutter estate. There are several thousand head of cattle and horses belonging to it, and about two hundred head of Indians. The soil has the appearance of being extremely fertile, but at this time vegetation was parched with drought. Sutter claims most of the country drained by the Sacramento and its branches, which is all, of any agricultural value, in the north part of the State.

As our team hadn't arrived yet, we walked a mile to Grime’s Fort, a similar structure, and I think the owner is a claimant of Sutter’s claim. We continued on to the river, got ready, and waded through. On the other side, as we climbed the bank, we found ourselves on the edge of a plain, stretching as far as we could see, with nothing but an occasional oak tree to break the monotony. A short distance above on the bank is a ranch, which has the ferry that’s only used during high water. This ranch belongs to the Sutter estate. There are several thousand head of cattle and horses belonging to it, and about two hundred Native Americans. The soil looks extremely fertile, but right now the vegetation is dried out from the drought. Sutter claims most of the land drained by the Sacramento and its tributaries, which is the only area with any agricultural value in the northern part of the State.

Our team soon came up, and our driver informed us that it was ten miles to the next water, consequently we were obliged to encamp on the bank of the river, notwithstanding it was only 3 o’clock, P.M. We had averaged one mile per hour. I loaded{66} my rifle and went down the river to hunt; I had promised myself a supper of wild duck, but they proved to be, on that particular day, all crows, and I compensated myself in part by picking a quantity of grapes. These were put into our camp-kettle and served up for supper. We thought them delicious, but the next morning, to our regret, we learned that we had forgotten to sweeten them. Late in the afternoon, a party of Indians started, fully equipped, to lasso horses, that were herding on the bottom lands of the Sacramento, six miles distant. They rode at the top of their speed, the horse and rider seeming moved by the same impulse. At night we spread our blankets in the open air. Some one of the party had been throwing out insinuations reflecting upon the character of the grizzly bear, that were said to abound in our immediate vicinity; not only that they were in the habit of “running around nights,” but that they had a tendency to cannibalism. One of the party took a particular fancy to my rifle; whether it was the beauty of the piece, his predilection for the owner, or the fiery appearance of the cap, that stole his affections, I am not prepared to say. He folded it in his blanket and seemed to sleep the better for it. Soon after dark the California serenade commenced. The performers being two packs of wolves, the prairie (coyotas) and large gray wolf, each carrying a part, and in the latter were incorporated some of the best alto voices I ever heard. We were aroused early in the morning by a member of the above choir, who passed over the foot of our bed.

Our team arrived soon after, and our driver told us it was ten miles to the next water source, so we had to set up camp by the riverbank, even though it was only 3 PM. We had been averaging one mile per hour. I loaded my rifle and went down the river to hunt; I was hoping for wild duck for dinner, but on that day, all I found were crows. I made up for it by gathering a bunch of grapes. We put those in our camp kettle and had them for dinner. We thought they were delicious, but the next morning, to our disappointment, we realized we forgot to sweeten them. Late in the afternoon, a group of Indians set out, fully equipped, to lasso horses that were grazing on the bottom lands of the Sacramento, six miles away. They rode at full speed, the horse and rider moving as one. At night, we spread our blankets out in the open. Someone in the group had been making insinuations about the character of the grizzly bears known to be in the area; they claimed these bears not only roamed at night but also had a tendency towards cannibalism. One member of the group took a liking to my rifle; whether it was because of its beauty, his fondness for me, or the striking look of the cap, I can't say. He wrapped it in his blanket and seemed to sleep better with it. Shortly after dark, the California serenade began. The performers were two packs of wolves: the coyotes and a large gray wolf, each contributing to the performance, with the latter showcasing some of the best alto voices I’ve ever heard. We were woken early in the morning by one of those singers, who walked right over the foot of our bed.

After breakfast we filled our flasks with water from the river and started. Our team travelled in a cloud of dust which hid them from our view. We moved on in advance. The day was excessively hot, and we were obliged to stop often for our team, in order to refill our flasks. After traveling five miles we overtook an ox-team loaded, and several mules packed, on the way to the mines. (See Plate). There were also several teams in the distance, moving in the same direction. We soon saw three men mounted on mules, coming toward us, who appeared to be returning from the mines. They were in high spirits, galloping along a little off the main track. One of them, in order, probably, to show a proper respect, pulled out his revolver and fired. His mule, taking the cue from his master, wishing to

After breakfast, we filled our water flasks from the river and set off. Our team kicked up a cloud of dust that obscured them from our sight. We pushed ahead. The heat of the day was intense, and we had to stop frequently for our team so we could refill our flasks. After traveling five miles, we came across an ox-drawn wagon and several mules carrying loads, all headed to the mines. (See Plate). In the distance, we noticed more teams making their way in the same direction. Soon, we spotted three men riding mules, coming toward us, seemingly returning from the mines. They were in great spirits, galloping just off the main path. One of them, probably out of respect, pulled out his revolver and fired. His mule, following his lead, wanting to

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. BETWEEN SACRAMENTO AND THE MINES.

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make a proper demonstration in the presence of his fellow mules, gave a few peculiar gyrations with his tail, threw his head up, then threw it down, and threw his heels up, and at this particular time his master threw his heels up, and they parted company. It would be difficult to imagine a position more humble than the one assumed by the above mentioned master. He was literally with his face in the dust, and I never saw a more peculiar cast of countenance. If I had not seen the above transaction, but had met him with the same expression of countenance, I should have thought he had stolen the mule he was on, or would steal one if he had an opportunity. He didn’t give us his card, but hurried on in the direction of Sacramento city.

make a proper demonstration in front of his fellow mules, did a few strange spins with his tail, threw his head up, then down, and kicked his heels up, and at that moment his master kicked his heels up too, and they separated. It’s hard to imagine a more humble position than the one taken by the aforementioned master. He was literally face-first in the dirt, and I’ve never seen such a strange expression on someone’s face. If I hadn’t witnessed the event, but had encountered him with the same look, I would have thought he had stolen the mule he was riding or would attempt to steal one if given the chance. He didn’t give us his card, but rushed off in the direction of Sacramento city.

We found the country a continuous plain entirely destitute of water, vegetation parched, and nothing showing signs of life excepting the few scattering oaks, an occasional wolf, and numerous gray squirrels. These last have much the appearance of the gray squirrels of the forests of New York; but they burrow in the ground, in families. We exhausted the supply of water we had put on board, and were suffering with thirst. The sun had gained the meridian, and his rays were almost consuming. We hurried on through clouds of dust, and at 2 P.M. reached the point at which we expected to find water. To our painful surprise, the spring was dry. It was three miles to the next, and we were almost crazy with thirst. It was no time for deliberation. There was no alternative but to push on. On arriving at the next spring, we found a puddle containing a quart of water, the surface covered with yellow wasps. We were, however, not fastidious, and drank all excepting the wasps. It again filled and was again drained, until all had replenished their flasks. We here took dinner, and moved on until about 5 P.M., when, after a most fatiguing day’s journey, we reached the “half-way tent.” I here saw a herd of deer, and notwithstanding the fatigues of the day, indulged in a “hunt,” but without success.

We found the country to be a flat landscape completely devoid of water, with the vegetation dry and hardly any signs of life except for a few scattered oaks, an occasional wolf, and many gray squirrels. These gray squirrels looked much like the ones from the forests of New York, but they lived in burrows in family groups. We used up all the water we had brought with us and were suffering from thirst. The sun was at its highest point, and its rays were scorching. We hurried along through clouds of dust, and at 2 P.M. reached the spot where we expected to find water. To our painful surprise, the spring was dry. It was three miles to the next source, and we were almost frantic with thirst. There was no time for second-guessing; we had no choice but to keep going. When we finally reached the next spring, we found a puddle with about a quart of water, the surface covered in yellow wasps. However, we weren’t picky and drank everything except for the wasps. It filled up again and we drained it until everyone had filled their flasks. We stopped here for dinner and moved on until about 5 P.M., when, after a very exhausting day’s journey, we arrived at the “half-way tent.” I spotted a herd of deer and, despite being tired from the day, decided to go for a “hunt,” but I had no luck.

Here, in the way of public accommodations, we found a tent, luxuriating in the name of the “half-way house.” A rough board running the entire length served as a table, the guests sleeping in the open air outside, under the protection of their own blankets. A blacksmith had erected, under a temporary{68} covering of canvas, his anvil-block and forge, and was busily engaged in repairing a damaged vehicle. (See Plate.)

Here, in terms of public accommodations, we found a tent, proudly called the “half-way house.” A rough board stretched the whole length, serving as a table, while the guests slept outside in the open air, covered by their own blankets. A blacksmith had set up his anvil and forge under a temporary{68} canvas covering, busily repairing a damaged vehicle. (See Plate.)

Our cook is busily engaged in preparing supper, while Mr. Cooper and myself devote the few remaining moments of twilight, to sketching the surrounding scene. The snowy peaks of the Sierra Nevada are seen looming up in the distance, now gilded by the last rays of the setting sun, and now a dark imposing mass. Our teamster has just returned after a weary search for pasturage for our mules. I am visited by an individual whose personal appearance proclaims his own history more eloquently than it can be described. He might be termed one of the oldest inhabitants, having taken up his residence in the country before the gold excitement. He claimed to be on terms of intimacy with the delirium tremens, was deaf, had the rheumatism and scurvy, and said “he was not very well himself.” His entire system seemed palsied by the use of rum, and so little control had he over the lineaments of his face, that he could only open his eyes by opening his mouth at the same time; hence, in closing his mouth upon his pipe (which was in constant use) he was obliged to part the lids of his left eye with his thumb and finger; so confirmed had he become in this habit, that a protuberance had raised upon his eyebrow and cheek-bone by the appliance. He was extremely loquacious and imparted much valuable information gratis, constantly keeping that piercing eye upon our brandy bottle. Mr. Cooper, who was seated upon a log near, cast an inquisitive glance upon him, and I tried to detect a family resemblance between the two. I was unable to learn, however, that they were in the least connected, nor am I prepared to say that their present acquaintance ripened into an intimacy. Two amiable donkeys are standing patiently under their loads while their masters are extracting “vegetables” from a demijohn.

Our cook is busy getting dinner ready, while Mr. Cooper and I spend the last moments of twilight sketching the scenery around us. The snowy peaks of the Sierra Nevada rise in the distance, glowing with the last rays of the setting sun and then turning into a dark, imposing figure. Our teamster just got back after a tiring search for food for our mules. I’m approached by a man whose appearance tells his story more than words ever could. He could be called one of the oldest locals, having moved here before the gold rush. He claimed to be quite familiar with the delirium tremens, was deaf, had rheumatism and scurvy, and said “he wasn’t feeling too great.” His whole body seemed affected by rum, and he had such little control over his facial muscles that he had to open his eyes by also opening his mouth; so, when he closed his mouth around his pipe (which he used constantly), he had to pry open his left eye with his thumb and finger. This habit had become so ingrained that a bump had formed on his eyebrow and cheekbone. He was very talkative and shared a lot of valuable information for free, always keeping a watchful eye on our brandy bottle. Mr. Cooper, who was sitting on a log nearby, shot a curious glance his way, and I tried to see if there was any family resemblance between the two. However, I couldn’t find any indication that they were related in the slightest, nor can I say that their current acquaintance turned into anything more. Two friendly donkeys are standing patiently under their loads while their owners are retrieving “vegetables” from a demijohn.

We were serenaded, as usual, during the night. We had been under the impression that the music was gratis, but learned, on this occasion, that it was supported by direct taxation, one of the worthies having taken a ham from our camp-kettle during the night. In addition to this, I had the pleasure, in the morning, of adding a note to his scale, with which he seemed so much pleased, that he went off repeating it, until he was out of sight.

We were treated to music, as usual, during the night. We thought the music was free, but found out this time that it was funded by direct taxation, since one of the local guys had stolen a ham from our camp-kettle overnight. On top of that, in the morning, I was happy to add a note to his scale, which he seemed so pleased with that he walked away repeating it until he was out of sight.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS 111, NASSAU ST. N. Y. AUTHOR AND ARTIST

G. V. COOPER DEL. On stone by J. CAMERON Lithograph by G. W. LEWIS 111, Nassau St. N. Y. Author and Artist

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We took an early start and found the country more rolling, with an occasional pine tree. It was evident that we were ascending into a more elevated region, and from the higher points we could plainly see the Sierra Nevada, their slopes pointing out the location of the river to which we were journeying—the north branch of the American river. The country abounded in massive rocks, sometimes piled up in ledges, and sometimes forming the entire summits of the hills.{70}

We set off early and noticed the landscape was more hilly, with an occasional pine tree. It was clear we were climbing into a higher area, and from the elevated spots, we could clearly see the Sierra Nevada, their slopes indicating the route to the river we were headed to—the north branch of the American River. The area was full of large rocks, sometimes stacked in ledges, and sometimes making up the tops of the hills.{70}

Chapter Thirteenth.

VENISON—FIRST VIEW OF THE GOLD REGIONS—SURROUNDING SCENERY—“MORMON BAR”—A POCKET—MY MACHINE IN MOTION—CERTAINTY OF SUCCESS—FIRST DINNER—“PROSPECTING”—A GOOD “LEAD”—DISAPPOINTED MINERS—A NEW COMPANION—A HIGHER POINT ON THE RIVER—VOLCANOES—SNOWY MOUNTAIN—AUBURN—LONELY ENCAMPMENT.

VENISON—FIRST LOOK AT THE GOLD REGIONS—SURROUNDING SCENERY—“MORMON BAR”—A POCKET—MY MACHINE IN MOTION—CERTAINTY OF SUCCESS—FIRST DINNER—“PROSPECTING”—A GOOD “LEAD”—DISAPPOINTED MINERS—A NEW COMPANION—A HIGHER POINT ON THE RIVER—VOLCANOES—SNOWY MOUNTAINS—AUBURN—LONELY CAMPSITE.

We passed the night in the open air, and the next morning at eight o’clock arrived at an encampment of teamsters who were just dressing a deer and preparing breakfast. (See Plate.) The tree under which they were encamped was on fire, on one side, to its very top—the other supporting a luxuriant branch. The coffee-pot is on the fire and the cook stands by, frying-pan in hand, waiting for the steak. At the left the cattle are seen feeding; one of them, however, having resigned himself to the “coyotas.” In the distance is seen a herd of deer bounding away over the hill. On the right are seen teams wending their way to the banks of the “North Fork” of the American river—freighted with provisions and utensils for mining. It will be seen that we have ascended into a more elevated region since leaving the last Plate. The ascent has been gradual—almost imperceptible—still everything indicates our elevation.

We spent the night outside, and the next morning at eight o’clock, we came across a group of teamsters who were just butchering a deer and getting breakfast ready. (See Plate.) The tree where they were camping was on fire on one side, all the way to the top, while the other side had a thick branch. The coffee pot is on the fire, and the cook is standing by with a frying pan, waiting for the steak. To the left, you can see the cattle grazing; one of them, however, has fallen victim to the coyotes. In the distance, a herd of deer can be seen bounding over the hill. On the right, teams are making their way to the banks of the “North Fork” of the American River, loaded with supplies and tools for mining. It’s clear that we've climbed to a higher elevation since we left the last Plate. The climb has been gradual—almost unnoticeable—but everything indicates that we're higher up now.

At ten we arrived at a junction in the roads, four miles from our point of destination; we remained here until after dinner; we now felt that we were about to try the realities of that for which we had left home and friends, traveled thousands of miles, and endured hardships and privations, the very thought of which makes the heart sick—we felt a degree of anxiety, as a few hours would probably decide whether we were soon to return to our friends or endure a long period of hardships in the mines. After dinner we were again under way, and soon, leaving the main road, we were running in the direction of the

At ten, we reached a crossroads, four miles from our destination; we stayed there until after lunch. We now sensed that we were about to face the reality of what we had left behind—home and friends—after traveling thousands of miles and enduring hardships that made the heart ache just to think about. A sense of anxiety washed over us, as a few hours might determine whether we would soon return to our friends or face a long stretch of struggles in the mines. After lunch, we were on our way again, and soon, leaving the main road, we headed toward the

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. TEAMSTERS BREAKFASTING, on the road to the Mines.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. TEAMSTERS HAVING BREAKFAST, on the way to the Mines.

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river. The road was good; but little timber; and the soil appearing well adapted to agriculture. It was soon evident that we were in close proximity to the river—the ravines all tending in the same direction; frequent rocks of enormous size, and from the more elevated points we could see a range of mountains rising on the other side. Having left the team behind, we pressed forward, eager to get a glimpse of the river and those employed in the golden pursuit; we soon arrived among the pines which stud the banks, but were still obliged to climb a slight ascent forming the immediate bank.

river. The road was good, but there wasn’t much timber, and the soil looked well-suited for farming. It quickly became clear that we were very close to the river—the ravines all sloping the same way; huge rocks scattered about, and from the higher points we could see a mountain range rising on the other side. After leaving the team behind, we moved ahead, excited to catch a glimpse of the river and those engaged in the search for gold; we soon reached the pines lining the banks but still had to climb a small slope to reach the immediate bank.

We soon gained the summit, and stood enraptured with the scene around us. The river, saluting our ears with its restless murmurs, meandered at the base of the mountain which had lifted us a mile above it. The banks were dotted with tents and teeming with the Liliputian owners. On the opposite side were mountains piled one above the other, terminating in a range covered with eternal snow, presenting a scene of grandeur and sublimity nothing can excel. The whitened peaks, reflecting the sun, resembled the domes of some vast cathedral. Looking back, the entire valley of the Sacramento was stretched out before us, bounded by the coast range of mountains, beyond which we could look upon the Pacific ocean—presenting a scene which, in extent, diversity, and grandeur is rarely if ever equalled. In the valley we could see extensive fertile plains, deserts of white sand, marshes, numerous lakes, dense forests, marking the water courses; and no doubt, with a glass of sufficient power, could have seen herds of elk, deer, antelope, and wild cattle. There is but little vapor in the atmosphere at this season of the year, and the vision is almost unbounded. Our team soon came up, and we prepared to descend the mountain, which was very precipitous, and the only place within ten miles at which the river can be reached with a team. Our teamster chained the wheel and with much difficulty descended the first step. He having been engaged in the same capacity during the Mexican war, managed the descent with much skill, and reached the base without accident.

We quickly reached the top and were captivated by the view around us. The river, greeting our ears with its constant murmurs, wound its way at the base of the mountain that had brought us a mile above it. The banks were scattered with tents and bustling with their tiny owners. On the other side, mountains stacked on top of each other ended in a range blanketed with perpetual snow, showcasing a scene of grandeur and beauty that’s hard to beat. The snow-capped peaks, glimmering in the sun, looked like the domes of a massive cathedral. Looking back, we could see the whole Sacramento valley sprawled out below us, bordered by the coastal mountain range, beyond which we could glimpse the Pacific Ocean—offering a view that, in its scope, variety, and magnificence, is seldom matched. In the valley, we spotted vast fertile plains, white sand deserts, marshes, numerous lakes, and dense forests lining the waterways; and without a doubt, with a powerful enough telescope, we could have seen herds of elk, deer, antelope, and wild cattle. There’s very little moisture in the air this time of year, and visibility is almost limitless. Our team soon caught up, and we got ready to go down the steep mountain, the only spot within ten miles where the river could be accessed with a team. Our driver secured the wheel, and with considerable effort, he descended the first step. Having been in the same role during the Mexican War, he handled the descent skillfully and reached the bottom without any mishaps.

We found ourselves at the “Mormon Bar,” forty-five miles from Sacramento city. We pitched our tent and cooked dinner after which I paid the teamster seventy-five dollars for three{72} hundred pounds freight and started off to visit the miners. I well remember that as I was going down the side of the cañon I saw a hole in a rock, which I thought such an excellent “pocket” that I resolved to pay it a secret visit, not doubting that it contained a rich deposit. I afterward learned that the “pockets” in California had not all been filled, and the one above mentioned was never picked to my knowledge. I found a great many in eager pursuit, some digging up the dirt, carrying it in buckets, or tin pans, and throwing it into the rocker, while their companions would rock the machine and pour in water, which would wash out the dirt, the gold being retained by riffles, or cleats, in the bottom. The first machine I saw in operation was being rocked by Mr. Devoe, and fed by Gen. Winchester and his brother—all of New York. The two last named were in the water knee deep, getting dirt from the bottom of a hole. I loaned them a late New York paper, and we were soon acquainted. They were about to take the gold from their machine and wished me to stay. This was just what I wished to do, and, after a five minutes’ detention, they raised the screen, exhibiting the bottom of the rocker, which was covered with gold. I started for the tent, and it seemed that every rock had a yellow tinge, and even our camp kettle, that I had thought in the morning the most filthy one I had ever seen, now appeared to be gilded—and I thought with more than one coat. During the night, yellow was the prevailing color in my dreams. In the morning, hiring out two of the men temporarily at ten dollars per day, I hired a machine at two dollars per day, took the other man, went a short distance above Gen. Winchester’s “lead” and soon found myself in a “lead” which I thought much better than his.

We found ourselves at the “Mormon Bar,” forty-five miles from Sacramento. We set up our tent and cooked dinner, after which I paid the teamster seventy-five dollars for three{72} hundred pounds of freight and headed out to visit the miners. I remember that as I was going down the side of the canyon, I spotted a hole in a rock that looked like a great “pocket,” so I decided to keep it a secret, convinced it held a valuable deposit. I later learned that not all the “pockets” in California had been emptied, and to my knowledge, the one I saw was never touched. I came across many people eagerly digging, carrying dirt in buckets or tin pans, and dumping it into a rocker, while their mates rocked the machine and poured in water, washing away the dirt and trapping the gold with riffles or cleats at the bottom. The first machine I saw in action was being rocked by Mr. Devoe, while Gen. Winchester and his brother—both from New York—were feeding it. The two of them were knee-deep in the water, getting dirt from the bottom of a hole. I lent them a recent New York paper, and we quickly struck up a conversation. They were about to extract the gold from their machine and invited me to stay. I was eager to do that, and after a five-minute wait, they raised the screen, revealing the bottom of the rocker covered in gold. I headed back to the tent, and it seemed like every rock had a yellow tint. Even our camp kettle, which I had thought was the dirtiest I'd ever seen that morning, now looked like it was covered in gold—and I suspected it had more than one layer. That night, yellow was the dominant color in my dreams. In the morning, I hired two of the men temporarily at ten dollars a day, rented a machine for two dollars a day, took the other man, went a short distance above Gen. Winchester’s “lead,” and soon found myself in a “lead” that I thought was much better than his.

“Bent” rocked and I put in the dirt. We resolved to run through twenty buckets before raising the screen, and soon the perspiration began to flow. He had a strong arm and I exerted every nerve to keep the machine supplied. The dirt would pass through the screen almost instantly, leaving the pebbles which he would scan very minutely, but finding no large pieces of gold consoled himself with the thought, “the smaller the more of them.” But now, after an hour’s incessant labor, we were about to finish our first task, and had in the machine as

“Bent” rocked as I shoveled dirt. We decided to go through twenty buckets before raising the screen, and soon the sweat started to pour. He had a strong arm, and I pushed myself to keep the machine filled. The dirt would pass through the screen almost immediately, leaving the pebbles that he would examine closely, but finding no large pieces of gold reassured him with the thought, “the smaller the more of them.” But now, after an hour of nonstop work, we were about to finish our first task and had in the machine as

G. V. COOPER DEL. BROWN & SEVERIN LITH. G. W. LEWIS PRINT. MORMON BAR, ON THE NORTH FORK, AMERICAN RIVER.

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much as we thought it prudent to have at any one time; I stopped digging but my heart kept on. The heat was most intense, the perspiration gushing from every pore. Bent was in a fever of excitement. He was naturally of a sandy complexion, but now his face added a deeper tinge to his red flannel shirt collar. Our reward was in our machine, and after putting in several dippers of water we raised the screen. It did not look as we expected it would; there was any quantity of dirt and some gold.

much as we thought it wise to have at any one time; I stopped digging but my heart kept racing. The heat was intense, and sweat was pouring from every pore. Bent was in a frenzy of excitement. He had a naturally sandy complexion, but now his face added a deeper shade to his red flannel shirt collar. Our reward was in our machine, and after putting in several buckets of water we raised the screen. It didn’t look like we expected; there was a lot of dirt and some gold.

We were not altogether satisfied with the result; still, we had just commenced, and, perhaps, were not sufficiently near the granite. Our “lead” was the best one on the bar—we knew by the looks of it—and the next twenty buckets must show a different result. Our ambition was again up, and our machine in motion, and, if possible, with increased energy. After running through several buckets of dirt, we raised the screen. There was not much gold on the top, but there was some; and we worked on, thinking that we had not yet reached the best part of our lead. I noticed that after raising the screen, the machine was rocked with less energy; and it seemed to add to the weight of my pick-axe. We resolved to visit the General. They had done a fine morning’s work, and were in high spirits. They told us of many who had opened “leads,” and worked them two or three days without success, when some one else would step in, and make a fortune the first day. This was precisely our case. We had got our “lead” almost opened, and if we should step out, some one would step in, and get the fortune. This we were not disposed to do. We had got on track, and were determined not to give way to any one. We looked up, but there was no one in our “lead.” On our way back we discovered many natural advantages that our “lead” had over the General’s, and an even exchange would have been to us no object.

We weren't completely happy with the results; however, we had just started, and maybe we weren't close enough to the granite. Our "lead" was the best one on the bar—we could tell by looking at it—and the next twenty buckets should show a different outcome. Our ambition was renewed, and our machine was running, even with more energy if possible. After going through several buckets of dirt, we raised the screen. There wasn't much gold on top, but there was some; so we kept working, thinking we hadn't reached the best part of our lead yet. I noticed that after raising the screen, the machine rocked with less energy, and it felt like my pickaxe was heavier. We decided to visit the General. They had done a great job that morning and were in good spirits. They told us about people who had opened leads and worked on them for two or three days without any luck, only for someone else to come in and strike it rich on the first day. This was exactly like our situation. We had almost opened our lead, and if we stepped away, someone else would come in and take the fortune. We weren’t ready to do that. We were on the right path and determined not to back down. We looked around, but there was no one in our lead. On our way back, we noticed many advantages our lead had over the General’s, and a fair trade would have meant nothing to us.

Our machine was again in motion. The sun had now almost gained the meridian. The heat was excessive. Bent’s red flannel was outside of his pantaloons, dripping with perspiration. My blue one was in the same condition. I would think of those abandoned “leads,” and wish I had two buckets. He would think of them, flourish his dipper, and rock the machine,{74} until its very sides would quake. We finally prepared to adjourn for dinner, took out the screen, put the contents of our machine in a pan, and commenced to wash out the dirt, which required some time, then walked up to dinner. On our arrival at the tent, we weighed the gold, and found it worth one dollar.

Our machine was moving again. The sun had almost reached its highest point. The heat was intense. Bent’s red flannel shirt was outside his pants, soaked with sweat. My blue one was in the same state. I thought about those abandoned “leads” and wished I had two buckets. He would think about them, wave his dipper around, and rock the machine,{74} making it shake. We finally got ready to break for lunch, took out the screen, put the contents of our machine into a pan, and started washing out the dirt, which took a while, then headed up for lunch. When we got to the tent, we weighed the gold and found it was worth one dollar.

As it was our first day in the mines, we resolved to dine on pork, a favorite dish in California. We cut a quantity into slices, put it into the frying-pan, laying on it a quantity of sea-biscuit, filling the pan with water, and covering it with a tin plate. We kept it on the fire until the water evaporated—it was then ready for use. Our coffee, in the mean time, was boiled in the tin coffee-pot. Seating ourselves on rocks in front of the tent, we expressed our appreciation of the swine tribe in unmeasured terms. We take a respite of an hour, and return to our labor. We are anxious to get down to the granite, as we are sure of finding there a rich deposite. Towards evening we struck the granite, and were within reach of a fortune, deposited here by nature for our express benefit. As it was late, we resolved to wash down what we had in the machine, and prepare for a successful effort on the following day. On our arrival at the tent, we found “Harry” and “Sam,” stretched out on the ground, groaning with fatigue, declaring that they had never worked so hard before, nor would they again. They had seen enough of the mines, and were determined to return to Sacramento. After telling them of the brilliant success that was about to attend our efforts, they agreed to remain another day. We had pork for supper, and spent the night in dreams of luxury. After an early breakfast we were again at our “lead.” We were particular to scrape the granite, as we uncovered it, and after running through ten buckets, we raised the screen; to our surprise, we were doing no better than on the previous day. This we could not account for. The only solution was, that the gold had never been there, and why, we could not divine. It had the same appearance as the General’s lead, which was paying the three from fifty to eighty dollars per day.

Since it was our first day in the mines, we decided to have pork, a popular dish in California. We sliced up some meat, put it in the frying pan, added some sea biscuit, filled the pan with water, and covered it with a tin plate. We left it on the fire until the water evaporated—it was then ready to eat. Meanwhile, our coffee was boiling in the tin coffee pot. Sitting on rocks in front of the tent, we praised the pig in glowing terms. We took an hour's break and then got back to work. We were eager to reach the granite since we were sure we'd find a rich deposit there. By evening, we finally hit the granite, and we were close to a fortune that nature had provided just for us. Since it was getting late, we decided to wash down what we had in the machine and get ready for a successful day ahead. When we returned to the tent, we found “Harry” and “Sam” lying on the ground, groaning from exhaustion, insisting that they had never worked so hard and wouldn’t do it again. They were done with the mines and wanted to head back to Sacramento. After telling them about the amazing success we were about to have, they agreed to stick around for another day. We had pork for dinner and spent the night dreaming of luxury. After an early breakfast, we were back at our "lead." We made sure to scrape the granite as we uncovered it, and after running through ten buckets, we raised the screen; to our surprise, we weren’t doing any better than the day before. We couldn’t figure out why. The only explanation was that the gold had never been there, but we couldn’t understand why. It looked just like the General’s lead, which was paying the three of them between fifty and eighty dollars a day.

We worked on for some time, when “Bent” went up to cook the dinner, (we had resolved to have pork,) and I took the pick, shovel, and pan, and went “prospecting.” After walking{75} some distance, I found a place which combined, as I thought, every indication of a rich deposit, and my only surprise was, that it had not been discovered before. It was on the lower side of a large rock, which must, at high water, break the current, forming an eddy below, where the gold must settle. On discovering a “lead,” one has only to leave his pick, and his title is indisputable. I left my implements, and hurried up to the tent. After dinner we carried our machine to the spot, and were soon in a profuse perspiration. “Bent” would frequently lift the screen, and it was very apparent that the prospect beneath was not brilliant. He had become a kind of thermometer to our success, and at every inspection his energy would lag, and my bucket would grow the heavier. Late in the afternoon we washed down our half-day’s work, and went up. Harry and Sam were writhing with fatigue. Harry had over-heated himself; Sam, being a mulatto, could endure the heat,—but his muscles had lost their tension, and every bone was cracked. He was willing to stay, if I wished him to, but Harry was bound for Sacramento. Bent said but little, still I could plainly see a cloud in his horizon. He had an impediment in his speech; and when I asked him what he thought of the prospect, he got into close proximity to some very hard words, and, with great magnanimity, wished the mines in the possession of an individual of brimstone notoriety, whose name I will not mention. After supper, we weighed our afternoon’s work, and had seventy-five cents. The man for whom Harry and Sam had been working, had taken possession of a bar, which was paying him well. As a general thing, the bars had been “prospected,” and the parts that would pay taken possession of. There was, however private “leads” opened daily, from which something could be made. Harry and Sam were too sore to start down the next day, consequently they resolved to rest; and Bent was willing to work the machine another day. As for myself, I must confess that the camp-kettle had lost one coat of its gilding, and the rocks were about the same color as those in the States.

We worked for a while when “Bent” went to cook dinner (we had decided on pork), and I grabbed the pick, shovel, and pan to go “prospecting.” After walking{75} for some time, I found a spot that seemed to show every sign of a rich gold deposit, and I was only surprised that it hadn’t been found before. It was on the lower side of a large rock that must break the current at high water, creating an eddy where the gold would settle. When you find a “lead,” all you have to do is leave your pick behind, and your claim is secure. I left my tools and hurried back to the tent. After dinner, we took our machine to the site and quickly began sweating profusely. “Bent” would often lift the screen, and it was clear that the results weren’t great. He had become a sort of thermometer for our success, and with each inspection, his energy would wane, making my bucket feel heavier. Later that afternoon, we washed down our half-day’s work and headed back up. Harry and Sam were exhausted. Harry had overdone it, while Sam, being a mixed-race guy, could take the heat, but his muscles were worn out and every bone was sore. He was willing to keep going if I wanted him to, but Harry was set on going to Sacramento. Bent didn’t say much, but I could see a shadow of worry on his face. He had a speech impediment, and when I asked him what he thought about the prospect, he stumbled into some tough words and, with great generosity, wished the mines to be owned by someone notorious for their trouble, whose name I won’t mention. After dinner, we weighed our afternoon's work and ended up with seventy-five cents. The guy Harry and Sam had been working for had taken over a bar that was paying him well. Generally speaking, the bars had been “prospected,” and the profitable areas claimed. However, private “leads” were opening daily, from which you could still make something. Harry and Sam were too sore to head down the next day, so they decided to rest, and Bent was willing to run the machine for another day. As for me, I have to admit that the camp kettle had lost some of its shine, and the rocks looked just like those back home.

We took an early start, and devoted an hour to “prospecting.” This time we were more successful, we found a “lead” from which we got twenty particles of gold in the first pan-full.{76} We soon had our machine on the spot. As we were placing it several miners passed on the way to their work. They all looked, we thought, as if they considered us the most fortunate of men, and we detected a lurking envy in their expression. As soon as they left, our machine was put in motion; we now had no doubt as to the result, and after running through ten buckets of dirt we raised the screen, but, to our astonishment, there was not a particle of gold to be seen. This was beyond our comprehension. We could not conceive of a more convenient place for gold to deposite than this particular one, and determined not to abandon it until we had reached the granite. This we reached, and toiled on until noon, when we emptied our machine, and had two dollars’ worth of gold. We adjourned to dinner, and learned that a team had just arrived and was to return to Sacramento city the next day. Harry, Sam, and Bent immediately resolved to take passage. They had had their expenses paid to California, and were to work under the direction of the Company, and have a portion of the proceeds. They, no doubt, considered the dividends too small in proportion to the labor. I determined to make a more thorough trial of the mines, and not wishing to be encumbered sold the provisions, cooking utensils, &c., hired the tent carried back, and the next morning the teamster had every individual that accompanied our mule-team up, excepting a young man who had been sleeping on the ground near our tent and myself. They all, no doubt, had the same exalted opinion of the mines, and returned with purses equally well filled. Harry and Sam had earned $40 beside what Bent and myself had earned. This, together with what I received for provisions, &c., amounted to $200, which I put into the hands of Harry to give to one of the firm, who was at Sacramento city.

We got an early start and spent an hour “prospecting.” This time we had more luck; we found a “lead” that yielded twenty pieces of gold from the first pan-full.{76} We quickly set up our machine at the site. As we were setting it up, several miners passed by on their way to work. They all looked, we thought, like they believed we were the luckiest men around, and we noticed a hint of envy in their expressions. Once they left, we got our machine going; we were now confident about the outcome, and after running through ten buckets of dirt, we raised the screen, but to our surprise, not a single piece of gold was visible. This baffled us. We couldn’t imagine a better spot for gold to settle than this one, so we decided not to give up until we reached the granite. We finally got to the granite and worked hard until noon, when we emptied our machine and found two dollars’ worth of gold. We took a break for lunch and learned that a team had just arrived and was headed back to Sacramento city the next day. Harry, Sam, and Bent quickly decided to get a ride. They got their expenses covered to California and were working under the Company’s supervision, sharing in the profits. They probably thought the shares were too small compared to their work. I decided to explore the mines more thoroughly, and not wanting to be burdened, I sold the supplies, cooking gear, etc., hired the tent back, and the next morning the teamster had everyone else who traveled with our mule team ready to go except for a young man who had been sleeping on the ground near our tent and me. They all likely shared the same high hopes for the mines and returned with their pockets full. Harry and Sam had made $40 on top of what Bent and I earned. This, along with what I got for the supplies, came to $200, which I handed over to Harry to give to one of the firm members in Sacramento city.

I was now alone. The two companions of the young man spoken of above, had left him, and circumstances seemed to throw us in each other’s way, and makes us companions. His name was Tracy. He and his companions, Scillinger and Hicks, were from Sante Fé; they had crossed the mountains, eaten their proportion of mule steak, and endured every conceivable hardship. We were at once friends. We determined to gain a higher point on the river, and, if possible, find a place where{77} our efforts would be more liberally rewarded. We consequently filled a small camp-kettle with pork and hard bread, rolled up our blankets, to which we lashed our pick and shovel, and slung them over our shoulders. Our camp-kettle, coffee-pot, rifles, and tin-pans, in hand, we set out on our expedition. We first ascended the mountain, and when at the summit stopped to view the magnificent scenes around us; the heat was intense; the thermometer stood at 100°; still we were looking upon a range of mountains shrouded in eternal winter.

I was now alone. The two companions of the young man mentioned earlier had left him, and circumstances seemed to bring us together, making us companions. His name was Tracy. He and his friends, Scillinger and Hicks, were from Santa Fe; they had crossed the mountains, eaten their share of mule steak, and faced every imaginable hardship. We became friends instantly. We decided to head to a higher point on the river and, if possible, find a spot where{77} our efforts would be better rewarded. So, we filled a small camp kettle with pork and hard bread, rolled up our blankets, attached our pick and shovel, and slung them over our shoulders. With our camp kettle, coffee pot, rifles, and tin pans in hand, we set out on our journey. We first climbed the mountain, and when we reached the summit, we paused to take in the stunning views around us; the heat was intense, the thermometer reading 100°; yet we were looking at a range of mountains covered in eternal winter.

Our route lay over a succession of mountains, the peaks of which bore unmistakable signs of volcanic formation, being covered with lava. Our journey was a most fatiguing one, and at noon, having gained an elevated point, we sat down to rest. I here noticed, for the first time, a phenomenon which is of frequent occurrence during the summer months. A heavy white cloud resembling a bank of snow rises from the Snowy Mountains (Sierra Nevada,) and after gaining a certain altitude passes off to the south, and is succeeded by another. After disposing of a certain quantity of hard bread and pork, and kissing our flask, we stretched ourselves out on the ground under the shade of a pine tree, and were soon in the embrace of Morpheus. In one hour we were again under way, and at 3 o’clock, P.M., arrived at the “dry diggings,” (now Auburn.) This was a place of three tents, situated on the main road leading to the Oregon trail, which it intersects twenty miles above. These mines were not being worked to any extent, owing to the scarcity of water. There were a few, however, engaged in carrying dirt, a mile on their backs, and washing it at a puddle, in town. It was very uncertain business. The gold found here was in larger particles than in the river “diggings,” but there was a much greater uncertainty in obtaining it, some toiling for weeks without making a dollar, and sometimes finding pieces worth from $50 to $500. The gold has the appearance of having been thrown up in a molten state, perhaps during a volcanic eruption, and dropped into the earth.

Our route took us over a series of mountains, whose peaks clearly showed signs of having formed from volcanic activity, being covered in lava. Our journey was quite exhausting, and at noon, after reaching a high point, we took a break. Here, I saw for the first time a phenomenon that often occurs during the summer months. A thick white cloud that looked like a blanket of snow rises from the Snowy Mountains (Sierra Nevada) and after reaching a certain height, drifts off to the south, followed by another cloud. After consuming some hard bread and pork, and taking a swig from our flask, we laid down on the ground under the shade of a pine tree and quickly fell asleep. An hour later, we were on the move again, and by 3 o’clock, P.M., we arrived at the “dry diggings” (now Auburn). This spot consisted of three tents located along the main road leading to the Oregon trail, which crosses it twenty miles further up. The mines here weren't being worked extensively due to a lack of water. However, a few people were carrying dirt a mile on their backs and washing it in a puddle in town. It was a very uncertain venture. The gold found here was in larger pieces than in the river “diggings,” but it was also much less reliable, with some people working for weeks without making any money and others occasionally finding chunks worth between $50 and $500. The gold appeared to have been ejected in a molten form, possibly during a volcanic eruption, and then settled into the earth.

After an hour’s detention we were again under way, and after traveling sometime over mountains, changed our course, wishing to reach the river. After an hour of the most fatiguing effort we were on a brink, with the river beneath our feet, but{78} so distant that it had the appearance of a meandering pencil mark. We could, however, hear its subdued murmuring as it struggled through its rocky channel. After a short rest, we commenced the descent, which we found extremely precipitous, requiring the greatest caution and attended with the most painful exertions. Sometimes losing our foothold, we would slide down until we could catch by the shrubs for support, and at others, be precipitated to the bottom of the step. We at length reached the base and found ourselves on a small bar. It being after sunset, we kindled a fire, steeped some green tea, broiled a quantity of pork, by putting it on the end of a stick and holding it in the fire, and after toasting the sea-biscuit, we sat down on the rocks and paid our cook a most flattering compliment. I must confess that I never felt the gnawings of hunger more keenly than on this occasion, nor did I ever more fully appreciate the influence of green tea. We were much fatigued, and after removing some of the larger stones, spread our blankets and prepared for sleep.

After an hour's detention, we were on our way again. After traveling for some time over mountains, we changed our course to reach the river. After an hour of exhausting effort, we stood at the edge, with the river below us, but{78} it looked so far away, like a winding pencil line. We could hear its soft murmur as it flowed through the rocky channel. After a short rest, we started our descent, which was very steep and required a lot of caution, causing us considerable strain. Sometimes we lost our footing and slid down until we could grab onto shrubs for support, and at other times, we would tumble to the bottom of a step. Eventually, we reached the bottom and found ourselves on a small sandbar. Since it was after sunset, we started a fire, brewed some green tea, roasted some pork on a stick over the flames, and toasted some hardtack. We sat down on the rocks and complimented our cook warmly. I have to admit that I've never felt hunger more intensely than at that moment, nor have I ever appreciated green tea's effects more. We were really tired, and after moving some larger rocks aside, we spread our blankets and got ready for sleep.

We were strangers, never having spoken until a few hours previous; yet, having been thrown together by chance in a strange land, we felt a mutual interest that could scarcely have been stronger, had we been brothers. I must here say, that I was associated with Mr. Tracy for the succeeding three months, and no brother could have been more attentive or sympathetic. Soon after we were blanketed, the moon gained a sufficient altitude to look down into the cañon upon us. Our situation was novel in the extreme. The mountains rose on either side to the height of more than a mile, almost perpendicular. The moon and stars looking in upon us with unusual brilliancy. The distant and incessant howl of numerous packs of wolves, the restless gurgling and chafing of the river, as it struggled angrily through its rocky channel, our lonely and isolated situation, all conspired to generate strange thoughts, and to bring up strange, and often unpleasant associations. To look at the moon and think that our friends might be, at that moment, looking at the same orb, and thinking of us—thinking, perhaps, that we were already preparing to return home, having accomplished our most sanguine expectations; then to look at the reality, think of the dark prospect ahead, of the time that must intervene before we could think of returning, of the innumerable hardships{79} and privations that still awaited us, a gloom imperceptibly stole over our imaginations, and hung upon our thoughts like an incubus. But sleep soon dispelled our melancholy, and wild fancy restored us to our friends.{80}

We were strangers, having only just met a few hours before; yet, being brought together by chance in an unfamiliar place, we felt a connection that could hardly have been stronger, even if we were brothers. I should mention that I spent the next three months with Mr. Tracy, and no brother could have been more caring or understanding. Shortly after we were tucked in, the moon rose high enough to shine down into the canyon where we were. Our situation was extremely unusual. The mountains on either side soared more than a mile high, almost straight up. The moon and stars glowed brightly above us. The distant and constant howling of packs of wolves, the restless gurgling and splashing of the river as it angrily rushed through its rocky path, and our lonely, isolated location all contributed to strange thoughts and brought up odd and often unsettling memories. Looking at the moon, we wondered if our friends were, at that moment, gazing at the same sight and thinking of us—perhaps believing that we were already getting ready to go home, having achieved our highest hopes; then facing the reality, contemplating the dark road ahead, the time we still had before we could even dream of returning, and the countless hardships and struggles still waiting for us, a gloom gradually settled over our minds, weighing on our thoughts like a heavy burden. But sleep soon chased away our sadness, and wild dreams brought us back to our friends.

Chapter Fourteenth.

A SEA CAPTAIN AS COOK—A HERD OF DEER—RETURN TO MORMON BAR—KEEPING HOUSE—OUR MACHINE IN MOTION—$1,500 IN ONE HOUR—AN ELOPEMENT—WASH DAY—SPORTING—PROSPECTING—DISCOVERY OF GOLD—EXCITEMENT—FATIGUE—THE CAKES “HURRIED UP”—INCENTIVES TO EXERTION—CANALLING A BAR.

A SEA CAPTAIN AS COOK—A HERD OF DEER—RETURN TO MORMON BAR—HOUSEHOLD CHORES—OUR MACHINE IN ACTION—$1,500 IN ONE HOUR—AN ELOPEMENT—LAUNDRY DAY—RECREATION—PROSPECTING—DISCOVERY OF GOLD—EXCITEMENT—FATIGUE—THE CAKES "HURRIED UP"—MOTIVATION TO WORK HARD—CANALIZING A BAR.

We rose in the morning with renewed vigor, and after breakfast, thoroughly prospecting our bar, (see Plate,) we moved on up the river. We found the passage in many places extremely difficult, obliging us to climb precipices to the height of two to three hundred feet. We examined closely, but found no place sufficiently rich to pay for working. At about 12 M. we arrived at a bar that was being worked by a company that had recently purchased it of another company for $2,500.

We got up in the morning feeling refreshed, and after breakfast, we thoroughly checked our bar (see Plate) before moving up the river. We found the path tricky in many spots, forcing us to climb cliffs that were two to three hundred feet high. We looked closely but didn’t find any areas rich enough to be worth our effort. Around noon, we reached a bar that was being worked by a company that had recently bought it from another company for $2,500.

Their labor was attended with fair success, but they did not succeed in making wages after paying the above sum. There is a law established by custom in the mines, which allows a man a certain space, generally ten feet, extending across the river. It is by this law that companies take possession of bars, and their claim is never disputed, as it is a privilege of which all wish to avail themselves. We ascended the river still higher, but found nothing to encourage us. We deliberated some time and concluded to reascend the mountain. We returned to the encampment of the above-mentioned bar, where we found an old man, a sea captain, acting as cook. They had no tent, but slept in the open air. The cook had a large camp-kettle hanging on a tripod under a live oak-tree, cooking pork and beans, and preparing dinner for thirty men. It seemed a strange occupation for a sea captain; still, it had not yet lost its novelty, and he seemed to enjoy it much. I noticed, however, that he would frequently hitch up his pantaloons and look “aloft.” After resting an hour

Their efforts had some success, but they weren't able to make any money after covering the earlier expenses. There's a custom in the mines that gives a person a specific area, usually ten feet, stretching across the river. This rule allows companies to claim certain areas, and their claims are never challenged, as it's a benefit that everyone wants to use. We traveled further up the river but found nothing encouraging. After thinking it over for a while, we decided to head back up the mountain. We returned to the campsite by the mentioned area, where we found an old man, a sea captain, cooking. They didn’t have a tent and slept outside. The cook had a big camp kettle hanging on a tripod under a live oak tree, making pork and beans for thirty men. It seemed like an odd job for a sea captain, but it still felt fresh to him, and he appeared to enjoy it a lot. I did notice, though, that he kept pulling up his pants and looking "up." After resting for an hour

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. J. C. TRACY AND MYSELF “PROSPECTING.”

G. V. COOPER DEL. On stone by J. Cameron Lith. of G. W. Lewis, 111 Nassau St. N. Y. J. C. Tracy and I “prospecting.”

{81}

we went to a ravine, filled our flasks with spring-water and commenced ascending the mountain. On arriving near the summit we came upon a herd of deer, and wounded one, but did not succeed in capturing it. We soon found ourselves again in view of the Snowy Mountains and resolved to encamp for the night. After partaking of a sumptuous meal, (pork and hard bread) we again reclined on the couch of nature, her sweetest incense borne by the gentle breezes to our sleeping senses. (The dust was blowing furiously.)

we went to a ravine, filled our flasks with spring water, and started climbing the mountain. When we got close to the top, we spotted a herd of deer and managed to wound one, but we couldn't catch it. We soon found ourselves looking at the Snowy Mountains again and decided to set up camp for the night. After enjoying a delicious meal (pork and hard bread), we lay back on the ground, with nature’s sweetest scents carried by the gentle breezes, lulling us to sleep. (The dust was blowing fiercely.)

We took an early start on our return to Mormon Bar, and arrived in the evening much fatigued. We resolved to make an effort here at mining, and back it up with any amount of energy. We purchased a machine and made all the preliminary arrangements in the evening, preparatory to a start at an early hour. We had no tent, consequently resolved to rent a suit of apartments from Nature, and looking about we found a large rock on the brink of a precipice, one hundred feet above the river. The place was secluded and pleasant. In front of the rock, on the mountain side, was a kitchen sufficiently large for our family, including the sleeping apartment. The space was shaded by a small oak tree; and, growing against the rock, were two other trees. Behind the rock was a space about twelve feet square, well shaded and was to serve as our dressing-room. A person to jump out of the back window would land in the river.

We started our journey back to Mormon Bar early and arrived in the evening, feeling quite tired. We decided to give mining a shot and put in all our energy. We bought a machine and made all the necessary arrangements that evening, getting ready to start early the next day. Without a tent, we decided to rent a spot from Nature. Looking around, we found a large rock on the edge of a cliff, a hundred feet above the river. The location was private and nice. In front of the rock, on the mountainside, there was a kitchen that was big enough for our family, including a sleeping area. It was shaded by a small oak tree, and there were two other trees growing against the rock. Behind the rock was a space about twelve feet square, well shaded, which would serve as our dressing room. If someone jumped out of the back window, they would land in the river.

Tracy had volunteered to act as cook, and in order to have things in harmony, I called him wife, and he was perhaps as well calculated to get along under the circumstances as any one I could have got. As to kitchen furniture, he cared more for the useful than ornamental, and was calculated to manage the domestic affairs with the strictest economy. We had a small camp-kettle, a coffee-pot, and two tin plates; I had a knife and fork and tin cup. Tracy had a pocket-knife, and a water-tight Indian basket, which served him as a coffee-cup. I slung my hammock to the trees that grew against the rock; he spread his blanket on the ground, a few feet distant, and we were keeping house.

Tracy had volunteered to be the cook, and to keep things harmonious, I called him my wife, and he was probably the best choice to handle things under the circumstances. When it came to kitchen supplies, he cared more about being practical than fancy, and he was great at managing our household with strict budget in mind. We had a small camp kettle, a coffee pot, and two tin plates; I had a knife, a fork, and a tin cup. Tracy had a pocket knife and a waterproof Indian basket that he used as his coffee cup. I hung my hammock between the trees that were near the rock; he laid his blanket on the ground a few feet away, and we were living together just fine.

We arose in the morning full of energy, and didn’t think there were any two individuals in that “section” destined to{82} accomplish more than ourselves. We shouldered our implements and were soon on the margin of the river. As we were placing our machine, a miner came along and informed us that, on the previous day, a Mr. Eccle had got out in one hour $1,500. We had suspected all along that there were rich deposits in the vicinity, and now our suspicions were confirmed. Our machine was soon in operation, and as the $1,500 would flash across our imagination, I would strike my pick the deeper. Tracy would flourish his dipper, strike up some familiar air, and the cradle would rock as if propelled by the furies. If there had been anything in it except dirt Tracy would have had an accompaniment to his song. We washed through ten buckets, and raised the screen; it did not look very encouraging—we run through ten more—Tracy thought there wasn’t quite as much as there was before—he began to lag, and I must confess I was obliged to recur often to the $1,500 to keep the necessary elasticity in my suspenders; we stopped a moment to rest, and speculate on the probable appearance of the spot where the above sum was obtained; we came to the conclusion that it must have looked very like the spot we were then at work in. Our machine was again in motion, and with renewed energy; Tracy was really outdoing himself; the $1,500 would flit through his imagination and he would almost throw the machine into spasms; I expected every moment to see his pantaloons and red flannel shirt part company; the only connecting link was a single India rubber suspender which was stretched to its utmost tension. We resolved to run through one hundred buckets before dinner, and, by straining every nerve, accomplished it. We panned down our half-days’ work—it amounted to two dollars. It had been excessively hot, the thermometer rose to 106°, and when we arrived at our encampment we were as wet as if we had been wading the river. We boiled some pork and sea-biscuit together in our camp-kettle, made coffee, and having placed two large stones against the rock, sat down to dinner. Our spirits were buoyant and our anticipations high.

We woke up in the morning full of energy and didn't think there were any two people in that "section" destined to{82} accomplish more than us. We gathered our tools and soon found ourselves at the riverbank. As we set up our machine, a miner came by and told us that the day before, Mr. Eccle had pulled out $1,500 in just one hour. We had always suspected there were rich deposits nearby, and now our suspicions were confirmed. Our machine was soon up and running, and as the thought of the $1,500 flashed across my mind, I struck my pick harder. Tracy swung his dipper, sang a familiar tune, and the cradle rocked like it was possessed. If there had been anything in it besides dirt, Tracy would have had a backing track for his song. We went through ten buckets and lifted the screen; it didn't look very promising—we went through ten more—Tracy thought there wasn’t quite as much as there was before—he started to slow down, and I have to admit I often had to think of the $1,500 to keep my spirits up; we took a moment to rest and speculate about what the spot where that amount was found must have looked like; we concluded it must have looked a lot like the place we were working now. Our machine was back in action with renewed energy; Tracy was really outdoing himself; the $1,500 danced in his imagination, and he was nearly throwing the machine into overdrive; I expected his pants and red flannel shirt to tear apart any moment; the only thing holding them together was a single rubber suspender, stretched to its limit. We decided to run through a hundred buckets before lunch, and by pushing ourselves, we managed it. We panned down our half-day's work—it added up to two dollars. It had been incredibly hot, the thermometer hit 106°, and by the time we got back to our camp, we were as wet as if we had been swimming in the river. We cooked some pork and sea-biscuit together in our camp kettle, made coffee, and propped two big stones against the rock to sit down for dinner. Our spirits were high and our hopes were even higher.

Soon after dinner our machine was again making its spasmodic movements, and continued them during the afternoon; we did not allow ourselves to forget the strong resemblance between{83} our “lead” and the one in which the $1,500 was obtained. At night we had another two dollars to put into the company purse. It is Saturday night, and we feel that we shall hail the day of rest with pleasure. After supper we retire, having our usual serenade, and during the night one of the troupe made love to and eloped with one of Tracy’s boots; I imagined from a hint thrown out in the morning that he would have preferred dispensing with the music.

Soon after dinner, our machine was back to its sporadic movements and continued like that throughout the afternoon. We couldn't help but notice how closely our “lead” resembled the one where the $1,500 was made. By nightfall, we had another two dollars to add to the company fund. It's Saturday night, and we know we’re going to welcome the day of rest with joy. After dinner, we went to bed, enjoying our usual serenade, and during the night, one of the troupe got cozy with and ran off with one of Tracy’s boots. From a hint dropped in the morning, I figured he would have preferred to skip the music.

Mining operations cease on the Sabbath; and miners attend to mending, washing, &c. Tracy and myself went to the river to do our washing; the vocation to me was entirely new. I commenced on a pair of white merino drawers which I sometimes used instead of pantaloons; they looked very well when I commenced, but it was different after working on them half an hour; it would have troubled an experienced washerwoman to tell what color they ought to be; I first tried soap, then sand, but it was of no use; it appeared only to set the color. I put them in the river and put a stone on them; what effect the rainy season had on them, I have not been able to learn. I took my rifle, and trespassed on the Sabbath by shooting a rabbit and several quails; we consequently spent the afternoon in feasting, and on Monday morning were in a condition to tire our machine.

Mining stops on the Sabbath, and miners focus on mending, washing, etc. Tracy and I went to the river to do our laundry; this task was completely new to me. I started with a pair of white merino drawers that I sometimes wore instead of pants; they looked great when I began, but that changed after half an hour of scrubbing. It would have confused a seasoned washerwoman to determine what color they should be. I first tried soap, then sand, but neither worked; it seemed to only set the stains. I tossed them in the river and weighted them down with a stone; I haven't been able to figure out what effect the rainy season had on them. I took my rifle and broke the Sabbath by shooting a rabbit and several quails; so we ended up spending the afternoon feasting, and by Monday morning, we were ready to tire our machine.

We resolved to run through two hundred buckets, and no two men ought, and few could do more. When night came we had $4 to add to the purse. We resolved to spend the next morning prospecting. We started at an early hour, and after testing a number of points, decided upon one, and immediately started our machine. At noon, not liking the result, we determined to spend the afternoon in a further search. We went some distance up the river, carefully examining every point, until we came to a perpendicular ledge of rocks, overhanging the river. We thought no one had ever attempted to ascend this, and by doing so ourselves might find on the other side what had not been examined. We succeeded in gaining the summit, and on going down the other side, commenced to examine the crevices of the rocks. To our astonishment, Tracy found a piece of gold worth a dollar. We were much excited. It was too much to bear in silence. He opened his mouth to{84} halloo but his eye again fell upon the piece of gold and he did not. We found several smaller pieces, and were now satisfied that we had at last found the place for which we had been so long and anxiously looking. We followed down the side to the river, and there found a small bar, into which the gold must find its way, as it was washed from the crevices above. We examined the bar and found particles of gold, and decided to take possession at once. It was late in the afternoon, but at this particular time, we decided not to put off till to-morrow what ought to be done to-day, and immediately started for our machine, which was a mile distant. We were soon underway ladened with our implements, with perspiration gushing from every pore. We found our task a hard one; were often obliged to rest, and as often would our success flit across our imaginations, when we would again shoulder our machine, and push on. It was dark long before we reached our destination; we were obliged to climb over crags of rocks, where one misstep would have precipitated us into the river below. We toiled on, and at length reached our destination. We would gladly have remained here during the night, but our clothes were saturated with perspiration, and, although the days were hot, the nights were on the other extreme, sometimes rendering it uncomfortably cold, even under our woollen blankets. There was no alternative but to return, and we again ascended the precipice, and after a most fatiguing march reached our encampment. I had heard of people’s bones aching “out loud,” but this was the first exhibition of the kind I had ever witnessed. We were soon in the embrace of Morpheus, and fancy carried us home.

We decided to go through two hundred buckets, and no two guys should, and few could handle more. By nightfall, we had $4 to add to our stash. We planned to spend the next morning looking for gold. We got up early, tested several spots, picked one, and immediately started our machine. By noon, not liking what we found, we decided to spend the afternoon searching further. We traveled some distance up the river, carefully checking every spot until we reached a steep ledge of rocks that jutted over the river. We figured no one had ever tried to climb this, and by doing so ourselves, we might discover something new on the other side. We managed to reach the top, and as we went down the other side, we began to check the cracks in the rocks. To our surprise, Tracy found a piece of gold worth a dollar. We were really excited. It was too much to keep quiet. He opened his mouth to shout but then caught sight of the gold again and held back. We found several smaller pieces and finally felt confident that we had discovered the place we had been searching for. We followed down to the river and found a small bar where the gold must settle as it washed down from above. We examined the bar and found gold particles, deciding to claim it right away. It was getting late in the afternoon, but we decided not to put off until tomorrow what should be done today, so we headed back for our machine, which was a mile away. We soon set off, loaded with our tools, sweating heavily. The task was tough; we often had to take breaks, and our dreams of success would flicker in our minds as we picked up our machine and kept going. It got dark long before we arrived at our destination; we had to climb over jagged rocks, where a single misstep could send us tumbling into the river below. We pressed on and finally reached our spot. We would have loved to stay there for the night, but our clothes were soaked with sweat, and though the days were hot, the nights were quite cold, even under our wool blankets. We had no choice but to head back, so we climbed back up the steep rocks and, after an exhausting trek, made it to our camp. I had heard of people's bones aching “out loud,” but this was the first time I had ever actually seen it. We soon fell asleep, and dreams took us back home.

We arose much fatigued, but hope was preëminent, and we were soon under way, with the brightest anticipations. Our machine was again in motion; I never felt stronger, and at every bucket-full Tracy would give his dipper an extra flourish, his India-rubber suspender fairly grinning with excitement. We did not fear for the result, and kept our machine in motion until noon, when on raising the screen we found we had made about fifty cents. We had, however, not yet reached the granite, and our spirits were not dampened. We worked during the afternoon, reaching and scraping the granite, and at night would have been one dollar richer than in the morning, if some one{85} had been boarding us gratis. We had exhausted our lead and took our implements back to the first scene of operations. We continued to labor hard during the week, and Saturday night, on making out our balance sheet, we had earned $13.50 each, which was less than the cost of our provisions. It is said that prosperity begets want, and it was precisely so in our case. On Sunday morning we went to the store, purchased flour at seventy-five cents per pound, and a frying-pan for $5, determined to spend the day in feasting.

We woke up pretty tired, but we were filled with hope, and we got going quickly, excited about what lay ahead. Our machine was running again; I felt stronger than ever, and every time Tracy filled a bucket, he'd twirl his dipper around, his rubber suspenders bouncing with excitement. We weren’t worried about how things would turn out, and we kept our machine going until noon, when we raised the screen and saw we had made about fifty cents. However, we hadn't hit the granite yet, and our spirits weren’t dampened. We worked through the afternoon, reaching and scraping the granite, and by nightfall, we would have been a dollar richer than in the morning if someone{85} hadn’t been feeding us for free. We had used up our lead and took our tools back to where we first started working. We kept working hard throughout the week, and by Saturday night, when we tallied our earnings, we had made $13.50 each, which was less than what we spent on food. They say that prosperity creates desire, and that was exactly our experience. On Sunday morning, we went to the store, bought flour at seventy-five cents a pound, and a frying pan for $5, determined to spend the day feasting.

A team had just arrived from Sacramento with eight fortunate individuals, who had heard that this was the place where men were getting $1,500 per hour, and as they had just arrived from the States, they were willing to commence even at that rate. The teamster informed me that Bent, Harry, and Sam “put in” at Sacramento, in “stress of weather,” having got on a drunken spree, and spent the $200. On our arrival at the encampment Tracy took his basket, put in some water, stirred in flour, and was soon using our frying-pan. I practiced turning the cakes, and soon became so skilled that I could hit the pan every time. We held a consultation. Tracy was determined to continue mining, but I resolved to go to Sacramento and prepare to embark in something that would pay better. A few individuals were doing well in the mines, and there were comparatively but few. Ours was about the average success. The mass were merely paying expenses. There were a thousand extravagant stories constantly circulating, of men who had made fortunes in an hour, and Mr. Eccles did really in that length of time, get $1,500 in our immediate vicinity. Each one naturally considered himself destined to be one of the fortunate ones, and if he has only made a dollar to-day, he is quite confident that he will make a hundred to-morrow, or, perhaps, a thousand. The same influences operate upon the mind as in gambling, and chances of success are about equal, although mining is not attended with the same disastrous results.

A team had just arrived from Sacramento with eight lucky people who had heard this was the place where guys were getting $1,500 an hour. Since they had just come from the States, they were ready to start at that rate. The teamster told me that Bent, Harry, and Sam “put in” at Sacramento during “bad weather,” having gone on a drinking spree and spent the $200. When we got to the camp, Tracy grabbed his basket, added some water, mixed in flour, and soon was using our frying pan. I practiced flipping the cakes and quickly got so good that I could hit the pan every time. We held a meeting. Tracy was set on continuing to mine, but I decided to head to Sacramento and get ready to get into something more profitable. A few people were doing well in the mines, but they were relatively few. Our results were about average. Most were just covering expenses. There were a thousand wild stories going around about people who made fortunes in an hour, and Mr. Eccles actually got $1,500 in our immediate area in that time. Everyone naturally thought they were meant to be one of the lucky ones, and if they made just a dollar today, they felt sure they’d make a hundred tomorrow, or maybe even a thousand. The same influences played on the mind as in gambling, and the chances of success were about the same, although mining didn’t come with the same disastrous outcomes.

The country is rich in gold, the supply is inexhaustible. The entire soil of the mountainous parts is impregnated with it. It seems an ingredient or constituent of the soil. Still, in its natural distribution, it is not sufficiently abundant to pay for collecting. It is found most plentifully on bars in the rivers,{86} where it is deposited during freshets, or at the confluence of ravines, which sweep down the side of the mountains uniting at the base, where the gold naturally deposits during the rainy season. “Bars,” in California parlance, are the low tongues of land at abrupt bends in the river. (See Plate.) They are generally formed in whole, or in part by freshets. During the rainy season, torrents rush down the sides of the mountains, freighted with gold, dirt and stones, which, when coming in contact with the main stream, are borne along until an abrupt bend in the river checks the current, an eddy sets back a certain distance, at which point the heavy substances are deposited. A canal is cut across the root of the tongue, at the head of which a dam is thrown across the river, which turns the water from its natural channel, enabling miners to work below water-mark.{87}

The country is rich in gold, with an endless supply. The soil in the mountainous regions is full of it. It seems to be a natural part of the soil. However, in its natural distribution, there isn't enough to make collecting it worth the effort. It's found most abundantly on river bars, {86} where it gets deposited during floods, or at the meeting points of ravines that flow down the mountains and join at the base, where gold also settles during the rainy season. In California lingo, "bars" are the low stretches of land at sharp bends in the river. (See Plate.) They are usually formed completely or partially by floods. During the rainy season, torrents rush down the mountainsides, carrying gold, dirt, and stones, which, when they reach the main river, are carried along until a sharp bend slows the current, creating an eddy that pushes back a certain distance, allowing the heavier materials to settle. A canal is dug across the base of the bar, and at the head of it, a dam is built across the river, redirecting the water from its natural path, so miners can work below the water line.{87}

Chapter Fifteenth.

START FOR SACRAMENTO CITY—THE “NIAGARA CO.”—FREDERIC JEROME—A LOVE-CHASE—HEROINE UNDER A BLANKET—SUSPICIOUS BOOTS—PART OF A LADY’S HAT FOUND—A BALL—ARRIVAL AT SACRAMENTO CITY—POOR ACCOMMODATIONS—RETURN TO THE INTERIOR—A CHASE—A NEW YORK MERCHANT—BEALS’ BAR—EMBARK IN TRADE—A MOUNTAINEER—INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS.

START FOR SACRAMENTO CITY—THE “NIAGARA CO.”—FREDERIC JEROME—A LOVE CHASE—HEROINE UNDER A BLANKET—SUSPICIOUS BOOTS—PART OF A LADY’S HAT FOUND—A BALL—ARRIVAL AT SACRAMENTO CITY—POOR ACCOMMODATIONS—RETURN TO THE INTERIOR—A CHASE—A NEW YORK MERCHANT—BEALS’ BAR—EMBARK IN TRADE—A MOUNTAINEER—INDIAN CHARACTERISTICS.

On Monday morning I bade Tracy farewell, and started for Sacramento, promising to report at the earliest possible moment. After walking four miles I was taken sick and stopped at a tent until morning, when, feeling better, I left my rifle and pursued my journey. The heat was excessive, and the road a dreary one, with nothing to break the monotony. I exhausted the contents of my flask and was soon suffering with thirst; I met a gentlemen who supplied me with water, and I moved on. After traveling some twelve miles, as I was pursuing my course I was surprised at hearing a voice, and immediately heard my name called. I looked up and saw at a short distance from the road, two tents, and on approaching, found a company of gentlemen of Lockport, N. Y., who had been fellow passengers up the Pacific. They had started for the interior, and on reaching this point their wagon broke down, the team strayed, and left them no alternative but to encamp. As they were in the immediate vicinity of the river, they had commenced mining, and I am happy to add, with unexpected success. This they richly deserved, for a more gentlemanly, hospitable and energetic set of men, it was never my fortune to fall in with. They styled themselves the “Niagara Co.,” and I have had the pleasure of meeting one of the gentlemen in this city since my return. At their solicitation I visited their works, and remained over night, and when I parted with them in the morning, it was like parting with brothers.

On Monday morning, I said goodbye to Tracy and headed for Sacramento, promising to report back as soon as I could. After walking four miles, I became sick and stopped at a tent until morning. When I felt better, I left my rifle behind and continued my journey. The heat was intense, and the road was depressing, with nothing to break the monotony. I finished the water in my flask and soon became very thirsty; I met a man who gave me water, and I kept going. After traveling about twelve miles, as I was going on my way, I was surprised to hear a voice calling my name. I looked up and saw two tents a short distance from the road. When I approached, I found a group of men from Lockport, N.Y., who had been fellow passengers on the Pacific. They had started for the interior, but their wagon broke down, and their team strayed, leaving them no choice but to camp out. Since they were near the river, they had started mining, and I’m happy to say they were surprisingly successful. They truly deserved it because I had never met a more gentlemanly, hospitable, and hardworking group of men. They called themselves the “Niagara Co.,” and I had the pleasure of meeting one of them in this city after my return. At their invitation, I visited their mining site and stayed overnight, and when I said goodbye in the morning, it felt like parting from brothers.

I started at day-break and after traveling an hour, fell in with{88} Frederick Jerome, well known for his heroic efforts, in saving the passengers of the Ocean Monarch. He and his companions were bound for the interior. I soon came out on the margin of a prairie, some four miles in diameter, the road running through its center; I had but just entered upon it, when I discovered the track of a—not a grizzly bear, dear reader, but of a female. I did really discover the track of a female in California. It may seem a trivial circumstance to you, it was not so to me. A galvanic battery would not have created a more startling sensation, and I was half-tempted to faint in honor of the occasion. It was a small foot, encased in a slipper of the finest mould; then there was such a witching air about it, so pert, the toes turned a little out, the heel set down with just enough decision, and a something coquettish in the way she raised it up; then there was a sprightliness and elasticity, quite perceptible. I soon came to where she had turned round, as if she had been expecting me, and without designing to be silly, I soon found myself on a “round trot.” I hurried on, buried in thought and conjecture, sometimes imagining it some one I had seen in the States; the track seemed familiar. Sometimes I would remember having met her at a cotillon party, and then I would notice a change in the track, as if she had been thinking of the same thing, and taking some of the “old steps;” I could see that the toe had removed a greater quantity of dust, as if she had been taking the standing, instead of the “chessa”; balance. But the distance between us was fearful. I could see several miles and could not see her, and she might take another road. As these thoughts were running through my mind, I would come to myself, and find myself running at the top of my speed, the perspiration oozing from every pore. I was fast gaining the opposite side, and hope was in the ascendant.

I set out at dawn and after traveling for an hour, I ran into {88} Frederick Jerome, who is famous for his brave actions in rescuing the passengers of the Ocean Monarch. He and his group were heading into the interior. I soon reached the edge of a prairie, about four miles wide, with the road going right through the middle. As soon as I stepped onto it, I noticed the tracks of a—not a grizzly bear, dear reader, but a female one. I actually spotted the tracks of a female in California. It might seem like a small detail to you, but it was huge for me. A galvanic battery wouldn't have caused a more intense reaction, and I almost felt like fainting in honor of the moment. It was a tiny footprint, shaped perfectly like a slipper; there was such an enchanting quality to it, so lively, with the toes slightly angled out, the heel set down with just the right amount of firmness, and a hint of playfulness in the way it was lifted; there was a noticeable bounce and lightness to it. I soon found where she had turned around, as if she was expecting me, and without meaning to be silly, I quickly began to “trot around.” I rushed forward, lost in thought and speculation, sometimes imagining it was someone I had met back East; the track seemed familiar. Sometimes I remembered dancing with her at a cotillion, and then I would notice a change in the tracks, as if she had been thinking the same thing and repeating some of the “old steps;” I could see that the toe had disturbed more dust, as if she had been doing the standing step instead of the “chessa” balance. But the gap between us was daunting. I could see for miles and still couldn't spot her, and she might take another path. As these thoughts swirled in my mind, I would snap back to reality, realizing I was running at full speed, sweat pouring from every pore. I was quickly nearing the far side, and hope was rising.

I began to think of my personal appearance, which is in such cases of the most importance. After a careful examination, I came to the conclusion that it was not very flattering. I had not shaved in six months; I had on an under-shirt and cravat, pantaloons and long boots, a Panama hat, blue flannel shirt outside, over which was a belt with a sheath-knife, and a blue sash. I had seen men as badly dressed as myself. I was in hope she had, and hurried on. I soon reached the forest, and was on the{89} qui vive, scanning every rock and log, expecting to find her at rest after her fatiguing walk across the prairie. I walked on, examining every shade, without seeing her. I soon saw at some distance a thick grove of underwood, the road passing through it, and I thought I saw a smoke rising beyond it. I soon arrived near, approaching very cautiously, and keeping an eye in the direction of the smoke. I was not frightened, but my nervous system was in an unusual state of agitation. I wiped off the perspiration, and continued my cautious approach. I was soon sufficiently near to see what I at first thought to be a tent, but on a nearer examination proved to be blankets thrown over a pole, and sweeping the ground. I saw no one. I approached still nearer, and came to the conclusion that she was under the blankets taking her morning siesta. I still drew nearer, and stopped to take a survey of the premises. Just beyond the blankets I saw what appeared to be two pairs of heavy boots, and on changing my position they both appeared to have men in them. I neither fainted, nor ran, but I walked on noiselessly to a proper distance and sat down to rest. The men were sleeping on the ground, and I have no doubt the lady was doing the same under her temporary shelter. They had undoubtedly been to the mines, and perhaps became disheartened, and were returning to town.

I started thinking about my appearance, which really matters in situations like this. After taking a good look at myself, I realized I didn’t look great. I hadn’t shaved in six months; I was wearing an undershirt and a cravat, along with pantaloons and long boots, a Panama hat, a blue flannel shirt hanging out, with a belt that had a sheath-knife and a blue sash. I’d seen guys as poorly dressed as I was. I hoped she hadn’t noticed and hurried on. I soon reached the forest and was on the{89} qui vive, scanning every rock and log, expecting to find her resting after her long walk across the prairie. I continued walking, checking every shadow, but didn’t see her. Then I noticed a dense thicket a little way off, with the road running through it, and thought I saw some smoke rising beyond it. I approached cautiously, keeping an eye on the smoke. I wasn't scared, but I was unusually on edge. I wiped the sweat off and kept moving carefully. I soon got close enough to see what I first thought was a tent, but upon closer inspection, it turned out to be blankets thrown over a pole, covering the ground. I didn’t see anyone around. I moved in a little closer and figured she must be under the blankets, taking her morning siesta. I crept even closer and paused to take a look around. Just beyond the blankets, I noticed what looked like two pairs of heavy boots, and when I shifted my position, it seemed like there were men in them. I didn’t faint or run away; instead, I quietly walked to a safe distance and sat down to rest. The men were sleeping on the ground, and I was pretty sure the lady was doing the same under her makeshift shelter. They had probably been to the mines, and maybe they got discouraged and were heading back to town.

The scarcity of ladies in California, is the theme of much conversation. There is an anecdote almost universally told in connection with the subject; it is as follows: At a certain point in the mineral regions, part of a lady’s hat was discovered, which caused so much excitement and joy, that it was immediately decided to have a ball on the spot, in honor of the event. Invitations were immediately distributed throughout the country, and, on the appointed day, three hundred miners assembled, each dressed in a red flannel shirt, and accompanied by a bottle of brandy. In the exact spot was driven a stick, five feet high, on the top of which was placed the hat, and around it was wrapped a flannel blanket. It was made to represent, as nearly as possible, a female form. By the side of this was placed a miner’s cradle, or machine, in which was placed a smoked ham, also wrapped in a flannel blanket. At the close of each dance the president of the meeting would rock the cradle, while the secre{90}tary would pour a bottle of brandy down the back of the lady’s neck. The ball lasted two days, at the end of which time the ground was surveyed into town-lots, and called Auburn. It has been spoken of in a former chapter.

The shortage of women in California is a popular topic of discussion. There's a story that's often shared about this: At one point in the mining areas, part of a woman's hat was found, which caused such excitement and celebration that they decided to throw a party right there to celebrate. Invitations were quickly sent out across the region, and on the designated day, three hundred miners showed up, all dressed in red flannel shirts and each bringing a bottle of brandy. In the exact spot, a five-foot stick was planted, with the hat placed on top, surrounded by a flannel blanket to resemble a female figure. Next to this, they set up a miner's cradle filled with a smoked ham, also wrapped in a flannel blanket. After each dance, the president of the gathering would rock the cradle while the secre{90}tary poured a bottle of brandy down the back of the lady’s neck. The celebration lasted two days, and by the end, the area was divided into town lots and named Auburn. It was mentioned in a previous chapter.

After waiting an hour without discovering any signs of life in the camp, the sun admonished me that I must move on. I pursued my lonely walk until 11 o’clock, P.M., when I reached the American river. I prepared myself and waded through, and in one hour was passing Sutter’s Fort. The dogs appeared to be on duty, and hailed me with such ferocity that I have no doubt they thought I meditated an attack. I hurried on, and at midnight reached Sacramento city. I found it impossible to get lodgings, and was obliged to seek shelter under some one of the large oaks in the suburbs of the town. Even here it was difficult to find a spot unoccupied. I found a place, however, by going some distance, and spread my blanket with a fair prospect of having the bed all to myself. It had been excessively hot during the day, but now a heavy dew had fallen, the air was cold, and after laying an hour found myself stiff and lame, and chilled to the very heart. I arose, but found it difficult to walk. I succeeded in reaching an unfinished house, into which I crawled, and spent the balance of the night in a vain effort to sleep.

After waiting an hour without seeing any signs of life in the camp, the sun reminded me that I needed to move on. I continued my lonely walk until 11 o’clock, P.M., when I reached the American River. I got ready and waded through, and in an hour, I was passing Sutter’s Fort. The dogs seemed to be on guard and greeted me so fiercely that I’m sure they thought I was planning an attack. I hurried on, and at midnight, I arrived in Sacramento City. I couldn’t find any place to stay and had to look for shelter under one of the large oaks in the outskirts of the town. Even there, it was tough to find a spot that wasn’t taken. However, I eventually found a place by walking a bit farther and spread my blanket with a good chance of having the spot all to myself. It had been extremely hot during the day, but a heavy dew had fallen, the air was cold, and after lying down for an hour, I found myself stiff and sore, chilled to the bone. I got up, but it was hard to walk. I managed to reach an unfinished house, crawled inside, and spent the rest of the night trying unsuccessfully to sleep.

In the morning I took a survey of the town, purchased a horse, and prepared for another incursion into the interior. A friend wished to accompany me, and at 4 o’clock, P.M., we were under way. We crossed the river and took our course across the plain in the direction of the great bend of the American River. Late in the afternoon, as we were galloping along, we fell in with a pack of wolves (coyotas,) and as we were both well mounted we were fast overhauling them. They were crazy with fright, making two or three tremendous leaps, then turning to look at us, their alarm would increase and they would bound away. We were close upon them when my companion’s girth broke, and we were obliged to give up the chase. If they have ever come to the conclusion to stop, I am confident it was not in that immediate vicinity, for I never saw animals so frightened. What they were doing when we came upon them, I am unable to say. It has been suggested that they may have been tuning

In the morning, I checked out the town, bought a horse, and got ready for another trip into the countryside. A friend wanted to join me, and at 4 o’clock, P.M., we set off. We crossed the river and headed across the plain towards the big bend of the American River. Later in the afternoon, while we were galloping along, we came across a pack of wolves (coyotes), and since we were both on good horses, we were quickly catching up to them. They were panicking, making a couple of huge leaps, then turning to look at us, which only made them more alarmed, causing them to run away. We were getting close when my friend’s girth broke, and we had to give up the chase. If they’ve ever decided to stop, I’m sure it wasn’t in that area because I’ve never seen animals so terrified. What they were doing when we found them, I can’t say. There’s been a suggestion that they might have been tuning

G. V. COOPER DEL. BROWN & SEVERIN LITH. G. W. LEWIS PRINT. SOUTH FORK, AMERICAN RIVER.

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their instruments preparatory to their evening concert. I was disposed to fall in with this suggestion, from the fact, that that was the only night during my stay in the country, that I did not listen to their music. If they took the trouble to stick up a notice of postponement, it read, undoubtedly, as follows: “Postponed indefinitely on account of a fright in the family.”

their instruments getting ready for their evening concert. I was inclined to go along with this idea, since that was the only night during my time in the country that I didn’t hear their music. If they went to the trouble of putting up a notice about the postponement, it probably read something like this: “Postponed indefinitely due to a family emergency.”

We resumed our journey and at 10 P.M., arrived at the bend. After watering our horses we secured the ends of their lassos, and taking our supper, we rolled ourselves in our blankets. In the morning we directed our course towards Beal’s Bar, a higher point on the river. As we were galloping along (California horses cannot trot) we met a gentleman whom I recognized as a New York acquaintance. He was a New York merchant, and when at home, somewhat noted for his dashing appearance. His appearance on this occasion was so extremely ludicrous, I could not withstand the temptation of taking a sketch. (See Plate.) He was returning from the mines, and at the time we came upon him, a coyota was casting inquisitive glances in that direction, as if in doubt whether it was really a man, or a fellow-member of the California Harmonic Society. He had on a slouched hat, which, together with his whiskers and moustache, almost hid his face; a mariner’s shirt, and a pair of drawers, which were, on this occasion, serving in the place of pantaloons, being suspended by two strips of a woolen blanket, crossed in front. A rifle on his shoulder, pipe in his mouth, and blankets in hand, he looked the very personation of a corn-field effigy.

We continued our journey and at 10 P.M., arrived at the bend. After watering our horses, we secured the ends of their lassos and had our dinner before rolling ourselves in our blankets. In the morning, we set our course towards Beal’s Bar, a higher spot on the river. As we were galloping along (California horses don't trot), we encountered a man I recognized as an acquaintance from New York. He was a merchant and known back home for his flashy appearance. However, his look at that moment was so absurd that I couldn't resist sketching him. (See Plate.) He was coming back from the mines, and when we saw him, a coyote was curiously staring in his direction, unsure if it was really a man or someone from the California Harmonic Society. He wore a slouched hat that, along with his whiskers and mustache, almost concealed his face; a mariner's shirt, and a pair of shorts that served as pants, held up by two strips of a woolen blanket crossed in front. With a rifle slung over his shoulder, a pipe in his mouth, and blankets in hand, he looked exactly like a scarecrow.

After a short detention we moved on, arriving at the Bar at 12 M. After dinner we went down to the scene of operations, my friend wishing to purchase an interest. The bar was divided into thirty shares, owned by as many individuals. They worked as a company and divided the proceeds at night. Shares were commanding $2,800 each. Beal’s Bar was at this time paying about $20 per day to a man. They had, however, expended a large amount of money in turning the water from the channel. After remaining two hours, we started in the direction of the Mormon Bar, where we arrived at 9 P.M. Tracy was in an ecstasy. He provided supper with great alacrity, and even let my friend occupy half his bed.{92}

After a brief stop, we continued on and reached the Bar at noon. After dinner, we went down to the worksite because my friend wanted to invest. The bar was divided into thirty shares, owned by that many people. They operated as a company and split the profits at night. Shares were going for $2,800 each. At that time, Beal’s Bar was paying around $20 a day to a worker. However, they had spent a significant amount of money diverting the water from the channel. After staying for two hours, we headed toward the Mormon Bar, arriving at 9 PM. Tracy was thrilled. He eagerly prepared supper and even let my friend share half of his bed.{92}

I had resolved to engage in the mercantile business at this point, and having heard the present store was for sale, I called on the proprietor for his terms. They did not appear favorable and I started the next morning for Sacramento, accompanied by my friend. We arrived that evening, and the next morning I commenced buying a stock. I was soon on my return. We were three days in reaching our destination, and such a time! We had a span of mules and a span of horses before the wagon, and a nice matched span of drivers. I paid $20 for an extra team on the route, and finally reached our destination. I deposited my goods under a tree, having canvas with which I designed to erect a store. The next morning I succeeded in buying out the other store, and before night had possession. I now felt that I had the helm of a craft I knew how to manage, and was fairly at sea. I immediately hired a Frenchman as cook at $50 per week, and Tracy became a guest. I was now pleasantly situated, with every prospect of success. I soon purchased a share in the bar—paid $1,100. At this time it was yielding abundantly, and I had every assurance of an ample remuneration. Throughout the country there is a strong propensity for gambling. People appear to engage in it for want of other amusement. The store I had purchased had been used for the purpose every night since its construction, but it became so great a nuisance, I was obliged to prohibit it excepting on particular occasions.

I decided to get into the retail business at this point, and after hearing that the current store was for sale, I approached the owner to discuss his terms. They didn’t seem favorable, so the next morning I headed to Sacramento with my friend. We arrived that evening, and the following morning I started buying inventory. Before long, I was on my way back. It took us three days to reach our destination, and what a journey it was! We had a team of mules and a team of horses pulling the wagon, and our drivers were a well-matched pair. I paid $20 for an extra team along the way and eventually arrived at our destination. I placed my goods under a tree, planning to set up a store with the canvas I brought. The next morning, I managed to buy out the other store, and by nightfall, I had control of it. I now felt like I was steering a ship I knew how to navigate, and I was fully engaged. I quickly hired a Frenchman as the cook for $50 a week, and Tracy became a guest. I was now in a comfortable position, with good prospects for success. I soon bought a share in the bar for $1,100. At this point, it was very profitable, and I was confident about making a good return. There’s a strong tendency for gambling throughout the area. People seem to do it out of boredom. The store I had purchased had been used for gambling every night since it was built, but it became such a nuisance that I had to ban it except on special occasions.

I here had an opportunity of seeing many of those strange adventurers who are met with only on the extreme frontiers, and who have as great an aversion to law and civilization as they have to the manacles of a prison. I had had the store but a few days, when one of these strange beings crossed my path. I must confess there was nothing, at first sight, to attract my admiration. About nine in the morning I saw, approaching the store, a strange looking being, mounted on a gray horse, a poncho thrown over his shoulder, over which was slung a huge rifle, skins wrapped around his legs, a pair of Mexican spurs on, and a slouched hat which partially obscured his copper complexion. As he rode up, Tracy recognized him as an old mountaineer, whom he had seen in Santa Fé. After the recognition, Tracy says “Jim! whose horse is that?” Jim—“I’ll{93} be G—d d—nd to H—ll if I know.” Tracy—“where did you get him?” Jim—“I stole him from an Indian, by G—d.” I have no doubt his declarations were true, for he claimed the credit (and I was informed he deserved it) of being the most accomplished horse-thief in all New Mexico. He informed Tracy that he was “dead broke” and hungry, and wished him to ask me for something to eat. I requested Prince to get him some breakfast, after which he was as rich as Crœsus, and commenced giving me his life. It was a most exciting romance, interspersed with thrilling adventures and “hair-breadth ’scapes.” I was convinced that his story, in the main, was true, not because he swore to it all, but because Tracy was acquainted with the most important facts. He was a mixture of the negro, Indian, and Anglo-Saxon blood, and born in New Mexico. His earliest training was in the art of horse and mule stealing, in which art he had become a connaisseur. He commenced by stealing one at a time, and soon became so proficient, that he could steal whole droves with perfect impunity. He declared that he furnished General Taylor’s army with most of their horses and mules, and that he could raise two thousand head, with twelve hours’ notice—sometimes stealing of the Indians, and at others of the Mexicans. Sometimes he would associate with the whites, and at others with the natives. He was for years, chief of the Crow Indians, and still has a wife and family with them. He led them in numerous battles against the neighboring tribes, alternately winning and losing. He was engaged in the Texan war, was at the battle of San Jacinto, and at most of the battles fought by General Taylor. He was never enrolled in the army, but always fought on his “own hook,” and ready to chase the party that was defeated. He took a middle ground, and was always just in time to join the victorious party.

I had a chance to see many of those unusual adventurers who are found only on the farthest frontiers, and who have as much disdain for the law and civilization as they do for the chains of a prison. I had only been at the store for a few days when one of these unusual characters crossed my path. I must admit there was nothing, at first glance, to capture my admiration. Around nine in the morning, I saw a strange-looking individual riding a gray horse, with a poncho draped over his shoulder and a huge rifle slung over it, skins wrapped around his legs, a pair of Mexican spurs on his boots, and a slouched hat that partly hid his copper-colored skin. As he approached, Tracy recognized him as an old mountaineer he had seen in Santa Fé. After recognizing him, Tracy asked, “Jim! Whose horse is that?” Jim replied, “I’ll be damned if I know.” Tracy then asked, “Where did you get him?” Jim said, “I stole him from an Indian, damn it.” I have no doubt his claims were true, as he boasted (and I was informed he was right) about being the best horse thief in all of New Mexico. He told Tracy that he was “dead broke” and hungry, and wanted him to ask me for something to eat. I asked Prince to get him some breakfast, after which he felt rich and started sharing his life story with me. It was a thrilling tale filled with exciting adventures and narrow escapes. I was convinced that his story was mostly true, not because he swore to it, but because Tracy knew the key facts. He was a mix of African, Native American, and Anglo-Saxon descent, born in New Mexico. He learned the art of stealing horses and mules from a young age, and became quite skilled at it. He started by stealing one at a time and soon got so good that he could steal entire herds without being caught. He claimed he supplied General Taylor’s army with most of their horses and mules, and that he could gather two thousand animals with just twelve hours’ notice—sometimes stealing from the Indians and other times from the Mexicans. He would sometimes team up with the whites and other times with the locals. He was, for years, the chief of the Crow Indians and still has a wife and family with them. He led them in many battles against nearby tribes, alternating between winning and losing. He fought in the Texan war, was at the battle of San Jacinto, and participated in most battles led by General Taylor. He was never officially part of the army but always fought on his own and was ready to chase after the defeated side. He took a middle ground and was always just in time to join whichever side was winning.

Indians in their wars have their own peculiar signs and marks by which warriors of the same tribe are informed of the locality of the enemy. These signs are made on the trees, rocks, earth, &c., &c. A detachment of a thousand warriors will start in the evening, and after arriving at a certain point, separate, to scour the country in different directions, and meet at a concerted point, when the moon is at a certain altitude. The party arriving first, drops an arrow, with the point in the direction they{94} have taken; the latter party moving in that direction soon find their friends. But if the enemy is on the alert, the first arrow is dropped, and soon another, which is found at right angles with the first. This is a caution. They move on still farther in the direction indicated by the first arrow, and if there is danger they find two arrows, one across the other. They now stop and secrete themselves. Soon one of the first party approaches them cautiously and informs them of the position of the enemy. In cases of storm, when the sun is hidden, they resort to other indications for the point of compass. They find the moss much thicker on the north side of trees and rocks, than on the south. They also cut into the trees and find the annual growth much thicker on the south, than on the north side. Jim’s legs had the appearance of being bound with cords under the skin, in consequence of the general rupture of the blood vessels. He says he was taken prisoner by the Indians, and in making his escape was chased ninety miles, without stopping for food or rest. The condition of his limbs then compelled him to stop, and secrete himself, where, in consequence of his lameness, he was obliged to remain for three weeks subsisting on roots. Jim, with his other accomplishments, was considered one of the best “monte” dealers in Mexico. On visiting the frontier towns, he would spend his time in gambling. Sometimes he would win several thousand dollars in one night, and the next day he would have every man drunk in town; what he could not spend in drink, he would give to the poor, or to his friends. Money was an incumbrance to which he would not submit. After remaining two or three days he mounted his horse and started up the river, designing, as I supposed, not to return.{95}

Indians in their wars have unique signs and symbols that inform warriors from the same tribe about the enemy's location. These signs are made on trees, rocks, the ground, etc. A group of a thousand warriors will set out in the evening, and upon reaching a certain point, they split up to scout the area in different directions and meet at a predetermined location when the moon is at a specific height. The first group to arrive drops an arrow, with the point facing the way they’ve gone; the other group moving in that direction will soon find their allies. However, if the enemy is alert, the first arrow is dropped, followed by another arrow found at a right angle to the first, which serves as a warning. They continue further along the path indicated by the first arrow, and if danger is present, they discover two arrows crossing each other. At this point, they stop and hide. Soon, one of the initial group approaches them cautiously to inform them about the enemy’s position. In stormy weather when the sun is hidden, they look for other cues to determine direction. They notice that moss grows much thicker on the north side of trees and rocks compared to the south. They also cut into trees and find the annual growth much thicker on the south than on the north side. Jim's legs looked like they were bound with cords under the skin due to the rupture of blood vessels. He said he was captured by the Indians and, in his escape, was chased for ninety miles without pausing for food or rest. The condition of his limbs eventually forced him to stop and hide, where, due to his lameness, he had to stay for three weeks living off roots. Jim, with his other skills, was considered one of the best monte dealers in Mexico. When he visited the border towns, he spent his time gambling. Sometimes he would win several thousand dollars in one night, and the next day he would have everyone in town drunk; anything he couldn’t spend on drinks, he would give to the poor or his friends. Money was a burden he refused to bear. After staying two or three days, he got on his horse and headed up the river, presumably with no intention of returning.{95}

Chapter Sixteenth.

THE MORMONS—THE ATTEMPTED MURDER OF GOV. BOGGS—CANALLING MORMON BAR—FALSE THEORIES IN REFERENCE TO GOLD DEPOSITS—INFLUENCE OF AMASA LYMAN, “THE PROPHET”—EXCITING SCENE—JIM RETURNS—A MONTE BANK “TAPPED”—JIM’S ADVENT AT SACRAMENTO CITY.

THE MORMONS—THE ATTEMPTED MURDER OF GOV. BOGGS—CANALLING MORMON BAR—FALSE THEORIES ABOUT GOLD DEPOSITS—INFLUENCE OF AMASA LYMAN, “THE PROPHET”—EXCITING SCENE—JIM RETURNS—A MONTE BANK “TAPPED”—JIM’S ADVENT IN SACRAMENTO CITY.

My immediate neighbors were mostly Mormons, headed by Amasa Lyman, one of “the twelve.” The person who shot Gov. Boggs, of Missouri, was also here, under an assumed name. It will be remembered that at the time of the Mormon disturbance in Missouri, it was thought by them that Gov. Boggs connived at their persecution, and several attempts were made upon his life. Scofield, alias, “Orin Porter,” a reckless, daring fellow, loaded a pistol and went to his house; it was in the evening; the Governor was sitting by the light reading a paper. Porter went to the back window, and aiming at his head, discharged the pistol, the ball taking effect in the back part of his head. Porter deliberately laid the pistol on the window-sill, and left. The wound did not prove mortal, and at the time of which I am writing, Gov. B., and two sons, were in California. They had heard of Porter’s rendezvous, and were supposed to be in search of him. He went armed with a brace of revolvers, and one of duelling pistols; he had a dog that was constantly with him, sleeping with him at night to give the alarm in case of danger. He declared his determination to sell his life dearly if attacked. He was much esteemed by the “faithful” for his heroism in the above act, consequently they kept an eye to his safety, keeping him informed of the whereabouts of the enemy.

My immediate neighbors were mostly Mormons, led by Amasa Lyman, one of “the twelve.” The person who shot Governor Boggs of Missouri was also here, using a fake name. It’s worth noting that during the Mormon conflict in Missouri, they believed Governor Boggs was complicit in their persecution, and several attempts were made on his life. Scofield, also known as “Orin Porter,” a reckless and daring guy, loaded a pistol and went to his house one evening while the Governor was sitting by the light reading a newspaper. Porter approached the back window, aimed at his head, and fired the pistol, hitting him in the back of the head. Porter calmly placed the pistol on the window-sill and left. The wound didn’t end up being fatal, and at the time I’m writing about, Governor Boggs and his two sons were in California. They had heard about Porter’s hiding spot and were thought to be looking for him. He went out armed with two revolvers and a dueling pistol; he had a dog that was always with him, sleeping by his side at night to alert him in case of danger. He vowed to make anyone who attacked him pay dearly for it. He was highly regarded by the “faithful” for his bravery in that act, so they kept a close watch on his safety, keeping him updated on the enemy’s movements.

The Mormons held no religious meetings here. They believe in the inspiration of Smith, or “Joseph,” as they call him, and calculate time from the date of his death, as an era, speaking of an occurrence, as in the first, second, or third year of the death{96} of “Joseph.” They believe the Book of Mormon to be a history of the western, as the Bible is a history of the eastern continent. Those here were a good set of fellows, somewhat reckless, fine horsemen, fond of sprees, and an occasional fight. Many of them had belonged to the “Mormon battalion,” under the late Gen. Kearney, of whom they spoke in the most enthusiastic terms. They had all been at “Salt Lake,” and considered that their country, and home, many of them having left their families there. They believe all other religions heresy, and quote Scripture to prove, that the appearance of Smith, and the promulgation of his doctrine, was predicted long before the Christian era, and that that doctrine must prevail universally before the coming of the Millenium. They were all hard workers, and fond of gambling. They had spent ten weeks in canalling the bar, and the first indications were extremely favorable, but it was soon necessary to incur additional expense, in order to drain the deep holes in the bed of the river. The edges of these holes were rich with gold; in spots the granite being quite yellow, so that the gold was scraped up with spoons. It was the natural conclusion that the edges being rich, the bottoms must be more so. The company, that is to say, Amasa Lyman, (for, being one of the prophets, his word was law,) resolved to construct a hose of duck to carry off the water as it was pumped from the holes, consequently sent to town and purchased three hundred yards of duck, which, using three widths, made the hose one hundred yards in length, costing $600—the pump costing $50.

The Mormons didn't hold any religious meetings here. They believe in the inspiration of Smith, or “Joseph,” as they call him, and measure time from the date of his death, referring to events as in the first, second, or third year after the death{96} of “Joseph.” They consider the Book of Mormon to be a history of the West, just like the Bible is a history of the East. The people here were a good group of guys, a bit reckless, skilled horsemen, who enjoyed partying and the occasional fight. Many had served in the “Mormon battalion” under the late Gen. Kearney, whom they spoke about enthusiastically. They had all been to “Salt Lake” and regarded it as their country and home, with many having left their families behind there. They see all other religions as heresy and quote Scripture to argue that the appearance of Smith and the spread of his doctrine were predicted long before the Christian era, believing that this doctrine must prevail everywhere before the coming of the Millennium. They were all hard workers and liked to gamble. They spent ten weeks digging a canal, and the initial signs were very promising, but soon they needed to spend more money to drain the deep holes in the riverbed. The edges of these holes were rich with gold; in some spots, the granite was quite yellow, allowing them to scrape up gold with spoons. The logical conclusion was that if the edges were rich, the bottoms must be even richer. The group, specifically Amasa Lyman (since his word was law being one of the prophets), decided to build a hose made of duck to carry off the water as it was pumped from the holes. They sent to town and bought three hundred yards of duck, which, using three widths, created a hose one hundred yards long, costing $600, while the pump cost $50.

We now commenced draining the deepest and consequently the richest hole, and soon had it in working order; the richness of the margin was, as we thought, infallible evidence that the bottom must yield abundantly; we removed a quantity of dirt and stone, and commenced to wash from the bottom, but, to our surprise, it did not contain a particle of gold; this, like most of the theories in reference to operations in California, was not founded on correct principles. The influence of the stagnant water in the holes seemed to extend to the surface, holding the passing water in check. The current, as it is bearing the gold down stream, comes in contact with this dead water, and parts; receiving a sufficient check to allow the gold to deposit{97} around the margin. Several experiments were tried without success, and it was soon apparent that the speculation was to prove disastrous. The operations were managed without system or discretion. The “faithful” having a majority, had it all their own way; and they managed as seemed best calculated to victimize the “Gentiles.” As the sequel will show, they were drawn into the same vortex. I had hired a man to work my share, but the dividends did not pay his wages, and it was apparent that we must dissolve the company, and each man work or abandon his share as he saw fit. It was proposed to divide the bar into equal shares, to be drawn by numbers representing them; the “faithful,” however, opposed this mode of distribution; they were in favor of going on, and each getting all he could; each to be allowed ten feet in width, wherever he might locate his machine. They having canalled and worked the bar, knew every foot of it, and the relative richness of the different parts. The “Gentiles” saw no alternative but to be victimized, as they must submit to the majority, and it being Lyman’s motion it was sure to carry. The place of deliberation was at the tents on the side of the mountain, some distance from the bar, and as the work had been suspended for several days, many of the implements had been carried up.

We started draining the deepest and richest hole, and soon had it working. The richness of the margin seemed like undeniable proof that the bottom would produce abundantly. We removed a lot of dirt and stone and began washing from the bottom, but to our surprise, there wasn't a speck of gold; this, like many theories about operations in California, was based on incorrect principles. The stagnant water in the holes seemed to affect the surface, holding back the flowing water. As the current carried the gold downstream, it encountered this still water and split, getting enough resistance to allow the gold to settle around the edge.{97} We tried several experiments without success, and it quickly became clear that this speculation would end badly. The operations were carried out without any organization or planning. The “faithful,” having the majority, controlled everything; they managed things in a way that seemed designed to take advantage of the “Gentiles.” As later events would show, they ended up caught in the same situation. I had hired someone to work my share, but the profits didn’t cover his wages, and it became clear we needed to disband the company so each person could either work their share or abandon it as they chose. It was suggested to divide the bar into equal shares, drawing by numbers that represented them; however, the “faithful” opposed this method of distribution. They wanted to continue working, each claiming as much as they could, with each person allowed ten feet in width wherever they set up their machine. They had canalled and worked the bar, knowing every foot of it and the relative richness of different areas. The “Gentiles” saw no choice but to accept being taken advantage of, as they had to follow the majority, and since it was Lyman’s proposal, it was bound to pass. The discussions took place at the tents on the mountainside, some distance from the bar, and since work had been paused for several days, many of the tools had been moved up.

There was an unusual anxiety and excitement on this particular occasion, and as the vote was about to be taken, first the implements, then the bar would be scanned, with marked solicitude; the clenched hand and determined gesture giving token of the fearful struggle that was at hand. The vote was given; each man “broke loose” for the bar as if his life depended upon the exertion of the moment; some with machines on their shoulders, others laden with shovels, tin pans, pick-axes, India rubber boots, and spades, all rushing down, pell-mell, some crossing the canal on the log, others, finding the log full, would rush in and wade, or swim across; the implements of some, coming in contact with others, all would tumble in to meet again at the bottom. Any one who has witnessed a charge in battle, can form a faint idea of the confusion and excitement on this occasion. The vanquished, however, instead of being drenched in blood were drenched in water, and instead of broken bones, cries of the wounded, the beating of drums,{98} and torn uniforms, we had broken shovel-handles, curses of miners, the rattling of tin pans, and torn red flannel shirts. It so happened that the “faithful” all rushed for the same spot, and when their lions were served the lambs found the balance of the best in the hands of or in the possession of the “Gentiles.” This occasioned considerable sparring among themselves, and resulted in the “lambs” selling out for from ten to fifteen dollars, being their entire summer’s work.

There was an unusual mix of anxiety and excitement that day, and as the vote was about to happen, everyone carefully checked the tools and the bar with great concern; their clenched fists and determined gestures showed the intense struggle ahead. The vote was cast; each man “broke loose” for the bar as if his life depended on that moment; some carried machines on their shoulders, while others had shovels, tin pans, pickaxes, rubber boots, and spades, all rushing down in chaos. Some crossed the canal on a log, while others, finding the log crowded, jumped in to wade or swim across; their tools collided with one another, and everything tumbled into the water. Anyone who has seen a charge in battle can imagine the confusion and excitement of that moment. The defeated, however, were drenched in water instead of blood, and instead of broken bones, we heard no cries of the wounded but the beating of drums,{98} and torn uniforms; instead, we had broken shovel handles, miners' curses, the clattering of tin pans, and ripped red flannel shirts. It so happened that the “faithful” all rushed to the same spot, and when their lions were served, the lambs found that the best haul was in the hands of the “Gentiles.” This led to considerable bickering among themselves, resulting in the “lambs” selling out for ten to fifteen dollars, which was all they had earned that summer.

I did not trust my interest at this time, to the supervision of a hired man, but joined in the foot-race, leaving Prince (the cook) in charge of the store. I knew nothing about the best points in the bar, but followed the “Prophet” and his satellites, and when they selected their “leads” I took the one next above; in this lead I had an opportunity of seeing rich deposits, although I kept it from the knowledge of the “faithful.” I would go on the bar at 9 A.M. and work until 12; then from 1 P.M. to 4. On one day I got eleven and a half ounces, and on several days as high as six ounces. The bed of my lead was rotten granite, which in some places was entirely covered, being yellow with gold; in some of the crevices of the rock I would take it out with a spoon, almost entirely free from dirt. The person having the lead next above me found a piece in a crevice worth twenty-five dollars, which was thought extremely large for river gold; it was found in a cavity of its own size and form, and seemed to have dropped in in a molten state. The final result was a loss to almost all concerned in the operation; the same result attended all the canalling operations within my knowledge with one or two exceptions; such experiments, require such immense expenditures that they must be extremely productive to remunerate.

I didn’t trust my interest to a hired hand at this time, so I joined in the foot race, leaving Prince (the cook) in charge of the store. I didn’t know much about the best spots on the bar, but I followed the “Prophet” and his crew. When they picked their “leads,” I chose the one just above theirs; in this lead, I discovered rich deposits, though I kept it a secret from the “faithful.” I would go to the bar at 9 A.M. and work until 12; then from 1 P.M. to 4. One day, I found eleven and a half ounces, and on several days, I collected as much as six ounces. The bed of my lead was rotten granite, which in some areas was completely covered and appeared yellow with gold; in some of the rock’s crevices, I would scoop it out with a spoon, almost completely clean. The person who had the lead above mine discovered a piece in a crevice worth twenty-five dollars, which was considered extremely large for river gold; it was found in a cavity matching its size and shape and seemed to have dropped in a molten state. In the end, the operation resulted in losses for almost everyone involved; this was the case with all the canal operations I knew of, with just one or two exceptions. Such experiments require huge expenditures, so they need to be highly productive to be worth it.

Some three weeks after Jim’s departure, as I was sitting in the store, in the after part of the day, I heard a peculiar whoop, and looking up the side of the mountain I saw a cloud of dust, and a something flying in the air that had the appearance of a sail that had broken loose from its lower yard during a gale; then there were four legs and two other legs, all of them seemed to be running races; whether on the ground or in the air it was difficult to tell. I soon came to the conclusion that it was a trial of speed between Old Gray and Jim; they both{99} arrived about the same time; Jim a little ahead; as between his poncho and old Gray’s latter extremity it was about an even race, and they both settled down quietly, as if glad the race had ended. As Jim drew up to the door, he dismounted, and throwing on the counter a large handkerchief filled with gold and silver, said, “Well, by G—d, captain, I’ve made a raise;” he then untied his handkerchief; there were twenty or thirty dollars in silver, the balance in gold coin; the former he insisted upon my accepting, assuring me that it was of not the least value to him. He had been up the river twenty miles, had fallen in with a Mormon who had some money, and who proposed that Jim should deal “monte” and share the profits; in a few nights they had won $13,000; the half of this was more money than he cared to have by him at any one time, and was on his way to Sacramento City to spend it. He felt in high spirits, and as there were two gamblers along in the evening, who wished to open a “monte bank,” he wished me to allow them to do so, which I did; they had a capital of a few hundred dollars, and Jim was to try his luck at betting, which, by-the-way, he understood as well as the other branch of the game. He watched the run of the cards for some time, then wished to cut them; soon he made a small bet—it won; he made a larger bet, and won it also; after making a few successful bets, he “tapped the bank,” and won it; at about midnight he mounted Old Gray for Sacramento City, with as much money as he could conveniently carry.

About three weeks after Jim left, I was sitting in the store in the late afternoon when I heard a strange whoop. Looking up at the side of the mountain, I saw a cloud of dust and something flying in the air that looked like a sail that had broken loose during a storm. There were four legs and two other legs, and it seemed like they were racing, but it was hard to tell if they were on the ground or in the air. I soon figured out it was a speed contest between Old Gray and Jim; they both arrived pretty much at the same time, with Jim a little ahead. Considering the distance between his poncho and Old Gray’s back end, it looked like a pretty even race, and they both settled down calmly, as if relieved it was over. When Jim rode up to the door, he got off his horse and tossed a large handkerchief filled with gold and silver onto the counter, saying, “Well, by G—d, captain, I’ve made a raise.” He then opened the handkerchief, revealing twenty or thirty dollars in silver, with the rest in gold coins. He insisted I take the silver, assuring me it had no real value to him. He had traveled twenty miles up the river, met a Mormon who had some money, and who suggested Jim gamble at “monte” and share the winnings. In a few nights, they had won $13,000. Half of that was more money than he wanted to carry at once, so he was on his way to Sacramento City to spend it. He was in great spirits, and since two gamblers were around in the evening looking to set up a “monte bank,” he asked me to let them, which I agreed to. They had a few hundred dollars to start with, and Jim planned to try his luck betting, which, by the way, he knew just as well as the other side of the game. He watched the card game for a while, then wanted to cut them. Soon he made a small bet—which he won—then a larger one, which he also won. After a few successful bets, he “tapped the bank” and won that too. By around midnight, he mounted Old Gray and headed for Sacramento City with as much money as he could comfortably carry.

The next morning a man came to the store, who saw Jim sleeping under a tree, his money under his head, his horse tied with a lasso, having traveled about five miles on his way to town. On his arrival, he looked upon Sacramento City as his guest, and emptied his handkerchief in drinking its health. He had all the inhabitants drunk who were disposed that way, and many of them much against their will. He was quite successful in getting rid of his money, and one week after his advent, he had invested his last dollar. He had engaged to pilot the mail through to Santa Fé, for the government, and the time arrived while he was entertaining the city. Of course, he could not leave just then, and when the officer in charge ordered him to start, he declared in the strongest language, that he considered himself{100} full as good as some men, and better than others. The result was that he was put in irons. One day of such confinement would be sufficient to bring him to his senses, and make him long for his mountain air. I have no doubt that, ere this, he has seen the mail safely deposited at Santa Fé, and is, perhaps, again extensively engaged in the mule trade.{101}

The next morning, a man came to the store and saw Jim sleeping under a tree, his money under his head and his horse tied up with a lasso after traveling about five miles on his way to town. Upon arriving, he viewed Sacramento City as his host and drank to its health. He got all the residents drunk who were inclined that way, and many against their will. He was quite successful in spending all his money, and one week after he arrived, he had invested his last dollar. He had taken a job to deliver the mail to Santa Fé for the government, but that time came while he was busy partying with the city. Of course, he couldn't leave right then, and when the officer in charge told him to start, he stated in the strongest terms that he considered himself full as good as some men, and better than others. As a result, he was put in handcuffs. A day of such confinement would be enough to bring him to his senses and make him long for the fresh mountain air. I have no doubt that by now, he has seen the mail safely delivered to Santa Fé and is probably back in the mule trade.

Chapter Seventeenth.

FALSE REPORTS AND THEIR INFLUENCES—DAILY AVERAGE—ABUNDANCE OF GOLD—ORIGINAL DEPOSIT—“COYOTAING”—SAILORS—THEIR SUCCESS AND NOBLE CHARACTERISTICS—THEATRICAL TENDENCIES—JACK IN THE AFTER-PIECE—MINERS ON A “SPREE”—THE WRONG TENT.

There was an almost universal uneasiness felt throughout the mineral regions. Not a day would pass without arrivals and departures. To-day, a report would be in circulation that at a particular point on the Juba, or Feather river, miners were getting one hundred dollars per day. A party would immediately set out, and to-morrow a party will arrive from that particular point, having heard that at this point, miners had actually got all they could carry away. They would arrive with a full supply of provisions, utensils, &c., but being disappointed, there would be no alternative but to sell out, as their provisions could not be drawn up the mountain. To-day a man arrives who has prospected throughout the southern mines without success, and fallen in with a report that has brought him to this point. Miners who are successful say nothing about it, but those who are not, are generally fond of making an impression. I have now in my mind’s eye several individuals who were almost daily visitors at the store, who had always just discovered a very rich deposit. But strange as it may seem, that deposit never happened to find its way into the individual’s pocket. Now, a man will come in, all excitement, having just discovered, in a mountain gorge, a deposit so rich that gold can be picked up by pounds and half-pounds. He is out of provisions, and on his way to town to lay in a stock, preparatory to availing himself of his rich discovery. He talks incessantly of his prospects, and on his arrival in town imparts the information to the press. It is published as coming from the individual himself, and, of course, worthy of{102} credit. It is copied by papers throughout the world, and universally believed; this individual, however, in the course of a week, has engaged to drive team by the month, or if returning to the mines, goes in some other direction, as if having forgotten his rich discovery. His report, however, sends thousands to look for the spot, which, I need not say, they do not succeed in finding. The precise spot is rarely found; people get within twenty miles of it, but seldom nearer. As if exerting the influence of the Upas tree, they cannot approach within the prescribed limit. At the same time, many were engaged in private leads that were paying well, some averaging an ounce per day, and some even more. At the mouth of a ravine near, there were ten persons at work, who were averaging one and a half ounces per day. There were others in the vicinity doing equally well.

There was a general feeling of unease throughout the mineral areas. Not a day went by without people coming and going. Today, a rumor spread that at a specific spot on the Juba or Feather River, miners were making one hundred dollars a day. A group would immediately set out, and tomorrow, another group would arrive from that spot, having heard that at this location, miners were actually able to take away all they could carry. They’d come with plenty of supplies and tools, but when they found nothing, their only option was to sell out because they couldn’t haul their provisions back up the mountain. Today a guy arrives who has explored the southern mines without luck and stumbled upon a rumor that brought him here. Successful miners keep quiet, but those who aren’t do love to make an impression. I can picture several people who would visit the store almost every day, claiming they had just discovered a rich deposit. But strangely, that deposit never seemed to make it into their pockets. Now, someone comes in all hyped up, claiming to have just found a deposit in a mountain gorge so rich that gold can be picked up by the pound and half-pound. He’s out of supplies and on his way to town to stock up, preparing to take advantage of his big discovery. He talks nonstop about his prospects, and upon arriving in town, he shares his story with the press. It gets published as coming from him, and, naturally, it’s regarded as{102} credible. It’s copied by newspapers worldwide and widely believed; however, within a week, this guy has either committed to driving a team for a month or, if returning to the mines, heads off in another direction, as if he’s forgotten his big find. Yet, his report sends thousands searching for the spot, which, as you can imagine, they fail to locate. The exact spot is rarely found; people come within twenty miles of it, but seldom get any closer. Like the influence of the Upas tree, they can’t approach within that set limit. At the same time, many people were working private leads that were doing well, some averaging an ounce a day, and some even more. At the mouth of a nearby ravine, there were ten people working, averaging one and a half ounces per day. Others in the area were doing just as well.

The country had been thoroughly prospected; there was not a bar nor ravine that did not bear the impress of the pick and shovel. There were daily discoveries of deposits, sufficiently rich to pay well; still, such discoveries, in proportion to the number in search of them, were not one to twenty. All were earning something, and the mass more than their expenses, still they were not averaging good wages. A man could place his machine almost anywhere and get two dollars per day; this, however, barely pays for the provisions consumed, and unless a lead will pay at least five or six dollars, it is not considered worth working. A miner finds a lead that pays six dollars, he exhausts it in six, or say ten days; his expenses are two dollars per day, leaving him, at the end of ten days, forty dollars. He now spends a week, perhaps more, before he finds another lead that will pay; his expenses have reduced the amount in hand to twenty-six dollars. If he goes any considerable distance, he must hire a mule to carry his provisions, machine, &c., which will cost him one ounce ($16) per day; two days exhausts his fund. There are in California, two hundred thousand inhabitants. Say half this number are engaged in mining—at five dollars each, it amounts to half a million daily. Now, according to statistics, this is more, by half, than is actually produced, and half this amount, or two dollars and a half, is about the daily average, take the mass together.{103}

The country had been thoroughly explored; there wasn’t a bar or ravine that didn’t show signs of the pick and shovel. Each day brought new discoveries of deposits that were rich enough to make a profit; however, those discoveries, compared to the number of people searching for them, were not one in twenty. Everyone was making some money, and most were covering their expenses, but they weren’t making great wages. A worker could set up their machine almost anywhere and earn two dollars a day; this barely covers the cost of food, and unless a lead is worth at least five or six dollars, it’s not seen as worth the effort. When a miner finds a lead that pays six dollars, he works it out in six, or maybe ten days; his costs are two dollars a day, leaving him with forty dollars at the end of ten days. He then spends a week or more looking for another lead that will pay; his costs have now cut his total down to twenty-six dollars. If he travels any distance, he has to rent a mule to carry his supplies and equipment, which will cost him one ounce ($16) per day; just two days of this will deplete his funds. In California, there are two hundred thousand residents. Let’s say half of them are mining—at five dollars each, that totals half a million daily. According to statistics, this is actually more, by half, than what is produced, and half of this amount, or two dollars and a half, is about the daily average when looking at everyone together.{103}

As I have already remarked, the supply of gold is inexhaustible, and late discoveries show that the rocks constituting the base of the mountains are cemented with it. When proper machinery is brought to bear, and the bowels of the earth opened, discoveries will undoubtedly be made, that will eclipse the most exaggerated calculation. The original deposits were, undoubtedly, in the depths of the earth, and all that has yet been found is that which has been thrown to the surface, by the convulsions of nature. The form and general appearance of the gold, together with the appearance of its places of deposit, are conclusive proofs of this theory. That the country has been convulsed by internal fires, no one who has visited it, can doubt. Mountains of lava are seen towering up, and caverns yawning at their base. The natural conclusion is that many of the original deposits or veins are still undisturbed; and, in the vicinity of the original deposits of those that have, gold must exist, and will be discovered to an extent almost beyond conception.

As I’ve mentioned before, the supply of gold is unlimited, and recent discoveries show that the rocks making up the base of the mountains are filled with it. Once the right machinery is used and we dig into the earth, we will definitely find discoveries that will surpass even the wildest estimates. The initial deposits were likely deep underground, and what we’ve found so far is just what’s been brought to the surface by natural upheavals. The shape and overall look of the gold, along with where it’s found, strongly supports this theory. Anyone who has visited the area can’t doubt that it has been shaken by volcanic activity. We see mountains of lava rising up and caverns opening at their bases. The logical conclusion is that many of the original deposits or veins are still untouched; and near the original deposits of those that have been disturbed, gold must exist and will be found in quantities that are almost unimaginable.

A system of mining was adopted near the commencement of the rainy season, which went to show that gold is much more plentifully distributed, as you near the original deposit. It was called in California parlance, coyotaing. It was by digging holes or pits in the ground, generally into the base of the mountains, sometimes penetrating to the depth of fifty or one hundred feet, with the opening just sufficient to admit a man. This mode was found extremely profitable. Miners now also commenced prospecting among the rocks on this side of the mountains, and with very fair success.

A mining system was adopted at the start of the rainy season, which showed that gold is much more widely distributed as you get closer to the original deposit. In California, it was called parlance, coyotaing. This involved digging holes or pits in the ground, usually at the base of the mountains, sometimes going down fifty or even a hundred feet, with the opening just big enough for a person to fit through. This method turned out to be very profitable. Miners also started exploring among the rocks on this side of the mountains, and they had quite a bit of success.

Among the operators in the mines, there were none, as a class, so generally successful as sailors. They were numerous, and carried with them those estimable traits for which they are so universally celebrated. They were always, both hand and purse, at the disposal of their neighbors. Nothing afforded them more pleasure than to administer to the wants of others, always acting upon the principle that what they had belonged to the world at large, and they were merely the agents to superintend its distribution. There was a bar in the immediate vicinity, called “Neptune’s Bar,” worked entirely by sailors, and of the twenty canalling operations in the vicinity, it was the only successful one. They were well remunerated, and no one envied their{104} success. They would occasionally have a day of recreation, when all the neighbors would expect to drink; in fact, it was looked upon by all as a gala day, the amusements being of a rare and attractive character. The actors would generally drink just enough to exhibit their most prominent traits. Hogan was full of Shakspeare, and Tom of gunpowder; Charley, a true son of Neptune, would always imagine himself in a gale, and go aloft on the nearest tree; George would laugh; Bill would sing, and Geen would cry; Jack was a long, lank boy of nineteen; his eyes, on such occasions, had a peculiar way of closing themselves without his consent, and generally much against his will. The operation was somewhat like closing a lady’s work-bag with a draw-string. He would tell the “yarns,” and it was the only branch of the profession in which he was au fait. Hogan would give us a medley, made up of gems from “Macbeth,” “Richard III.,” “Much Ado about Nothing,” and the “Merry Wives of Windsor.” Tom would deploy into line for action, Charley would fall through the hatch, Jack would sell a magic hat to a Jew, while Prince, the cook, would be searching his pockets for yeast. On one occasion Jack was, in theatrical parlance, cast, in the after-piece, and he played his part with much spirit. He came to the store drunk, with a large sack on his shoulder, en route to the dry diggings. We tried to dissuade him from crossing the river that evening, but he was determined, and staggered down towards the crossing. We all followed, Dewey, being furnished with a lasso, to fish him out in case of accident. Jack was somewhat offended at the interest manifested in him, and mounted the log with an emphatic oath. He walked steadily until he had reached the middle of the stream, when, thinking no doubt that it was time to begin to climb the mountain, he raised his head, lost his balance, and fell in. The weight of the sack first took him to the bottom, but he soon rose to the surface, when Dewey threw the lasso, caught him around the neck, and drew him out. This was somewhat embarrassing to Jack, but he possessed too much courage, at this particular time, to give it up, and again mounted the log. This time he walked much farther, so that there should be no mistake about it, but he again looked up with the same result as before. The stream was very rapid, and was fast{105} carrying him down, but Dewey’s unerring lasso took effect, and he was again drawn up the bank. This way of wearing cravats Jack was not accustomed to, and it was sometime before he could raise wind sufficient to carry him from his moorings.

Among the workers in the mines, none were as generally successful as the sailors. They were numerous and carried with them the admirable qualities for which they’re so widely known. They were always ready to help their neighbors, both with their skills and their money. Nothing made them happier than meeting the needs of others, believing that everything they had belonged to everyone else, and they were just there to oversee its distribution. There was a bar nearby called “Neptune’s Bar,” run entirely by sailors, and out of the twenty canal operations in the area, it was the only one that thrived. They were well-paid, and no one envied their success. Occasionally, they would have a day off when all the neighbors would expect to drink; it was basically seen as a festive day, with fun activities that were rare and exciting. The performers would typically drink just enough to show off their best traits. Hogan was full of Shakespeare, Tom was full of gunpowder; Charley, a true son of Neptune, would always imagine himself in a storm and climb the nearest tree; George would laugh; Bill would sing; and Geen would cry. Jack was a tall, lanky boy of nineteen; his eyes, on such occasions, had a funny way of shutting without his consent and quite against his will. It was a bit like closing a lady’s work bag with a drawstring. He would tell the stories, and this was the only aspect of the profession where he excelled. Hogan would give us a mix of quotes from “Macbeth,” “Richard III,” “Much Ado About Nothing,” and “The Merry Wives of Windsor.” Tom would get ready for action, Charley would fall through the hatch, Jack would sell a magic hat to a Jew, while Prince, the cook, would rummage through his pockets for yeast. One time, Jack was cast in the after-piece and performed his role with a lot of enthusiasm. He came to the store drunk, with a large sack on his shoulder, on his way to the dry diggings. We tried to convince him not to cross the river that evening, but he was set on it and staggered towards the crossing. We followed him, with Dewey bringing a lasso to fish him out in case something went wrong. Jack was a bit annoyed by the attention and climbed onto the log with a firm curse. He walked steadily until he reached the middle of the stream, when, probably thinking it was time to start climbing out, he raised his head, lost his balance, and fell in. The weight of the sack pulled him underwater, but he soon surfaced when Dewey threw the lasso, caught him around the neck, and pulled him out. This was a bit embarrassing for Jack, but he was too brave at that moment to let it go and climbed back onto the log. This time, he walked much farther to avoid any mistakes, but he looked up again, and the same thing happened as before. The current was strong and was quickly pulling him down, but Dewey’s accurate lasso worked again, and he was pulled up the bank. This way of wearing a lasso was new to Jack, and it took him a while to catch his breath enough to move away from his spot.

The third attempt was made with better success. He reached the opposite side, but in stepping off the log, stumbled, and, the bank being steep, he rolled back to the margin of the river; Dewey again threw the lasso, and Jack recrossed. This closed the scene; Jack did not come before the curtain, and, I suspect, that if there had been one near, he would have got behind it.

The third attempt went much better. He made it to the other side, but when he stepped off the log, he tripped, and since the bank was steep, he rolled back to the edge of the river. Dewey threw the lasso again, and Jack crossed back. That wrapped things up; Jack didn’t appear before the curtain, and I have a feeling that if there had been one nearby, he would have hidden behind it.

Occasionally the miners of that entire region of country would get on a spree, go to some drinking establishment, all get tight, and have a merry row. They would keep it up during the day, and at evening some one perhaps would propose going home. This would be favored by some, but generally met by a proposition to have another round, which would invariably carry; then some would be accused of not having treated; he would acknowledge the soft impeachment, and another round would be ordered. They would all drink to friends at home in general, then to some particular personal friend. Some one would propose going to the dry diggings the next day, prospecting. Well, all in favor of going with Price, to-morrow, to the dry diggings, will form on this side—opposed, on the other; opposed are in the minority, and must treat. Some would get mad and start for their tents, but having, at this particular time, very vague ideas of localities, instead of going down the river, they would go up the side of the mountain, and, vice versa; others would start, but by some mysterious movement, the earth would fly up and hit them in the face. The balance of the party would take the last drink and start, all wishing to go to the same place, but each, having his own peculiar ideas, as to the direction.

Sometimes the miners from that whole area would go on a bender, head to a bar, all get drunk, and cause a ruckus. They’d keep it going throughout the day, and by evening, someone might suggest heading home. Some would agree, but usually, that would be countered with a suggestion for another round, which always won. Then someone would get called out for not buying a round; they'd admit it, and another round would be ordered. They'd all toast to friends back home, and then to a specific buddy. Someone would suggest heading to the dry diggings the next day to go prospecting. Well, all in favor of going with Price tomorrow to the dry diggings, stand on this side—those against, on the other; the opponents are in the minority and have to buy a round. Some would get angry and head to their tents, but at that moment, with very unclear ideas about where things were, instead of going downriver, they'd end up going up the side of the mountain, and vice versa; others would start off, but for some mysterious reason, the earth would seem to leap up and hit them in the face. The rest of the group would take one last drink and set off, all wanting to go to the same place, but each with their own unique ideas about the direction.

After wandering about for some time, each would call to the others, informing them that he was right, and of course when all were right none were wrong; but in the sequel not one, perhaps, out of the twenty, would reach his tent during the night. On one occasion, one of the party, after having taken the last drink, mounted his mule, designing to go one mile up the river, but, on reaching the mouth of the ravine, the worthy animal turned down stream. In the course of the night the rider, as{106} he supposed, reached his tent, and in attempting to dismount, being somewhat fatigued, he fell against the side of it and rolled in at the bottom; to his surprise he found it occupied by an individual, who, disliking his abrupt entrée, brought his revolver into requisition; the matter was explained, and our worthy rider found himself in the tent of a stranger, five miles from his own.

After wandering around for a while, each person would call to the others, telling them that he was right, and of course, when everyone was right, no one was wrong; but in the end, not one out of the twenty would end up at his tent that night. One time, one of the group, after taking the last drink, got on his mule, planning to go a mile up the river, but when he reached the entrance to the ravine, the mule turned downstream. During the night, the rider, as{106} he thought, arrived at his tent, and when he tried to get off, feeling a bit fatigued, he fell against the side of it and rolled in at the bottom; to his surprise, he found it occupied by someone who, disliking his sudden entrée, pulled out a revolver; the situation was explained, and our rider realized he was in a stranger's tent, five miles away from his own.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. SUTTER’S MILL, COLOMA, the spot where the Gold was first found.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. SUTTER’S MILL, COLOMA, the place where gold was first discovered.

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Chapter Eighteenth.

ARRIVALS—PREPARATION FOR THE RAINY SEASON—NEW DISCOVERIES—COLOMA—GAMBLERS versus BAYONETS—“HANGTOWN”—PUBLIC EXECUTIONS—FASHIONABLE ENTERTAINMENTS—WILD CATTLE—DANGEROUS SPORTING—MURDERED INDIANS—THE WRONGS THEY SUFFER.

ARRIVALS—GETTING READY FOR THE RAINY SEASON—NEW DISCOVERIES—COLOMA—GAMBLERS VERSUS BAYONETS—“HANGTOWN”—PUBLIC EXECUTIONS—TRENDY ENTERTAINMENTS—WILD CATTLE—HIGH-RISK SPORTS—MURDERED INDIANS—THE INJUSTICES THEY ENDURE.

After the result of the different canalling operations was known, being about the first of October, there was a general uneasiness felt throughout the mines, partly owing to the ill-success attending the above, and in part to a desire to make preparations for the approaching rainy season, which was expected to set in about the first of November. People were constantly arriving from San Francisco, having been informed that this was the “precise spot.” The overland emigration was also arriving, and there was a universal desire to change positions. Those having productive private leads, were anxious to sell, go into the “dry diggings,” throw up dirt, and prepare for operating during the rainy season. Some of the canalled bars were not entirely abandoned, and much of the stock was in market; but those who purchased it, were in a similar condition to the man who purchased the bear skin, the worthy owner of which was running wild in the forest, little suspecting that so important a part of himself, had been made the subject of a mercantile contract.

After the results of the different canal operations came in, around the beginning of October, there was a general sense of unease throughout the mines. This was partly due to the poor outcomes of those operations and partly because everyone wanted to get ready for the upcoming rainy season, which was expected to start around the first of November. People kept arriving from San Francisco, having been told this was the “exact spot.” The overland migration was also ongoing, and there was a widespread desire to change locations. Those with productive private leads were eager to sell, move to the “dry diggings,” dig up dirt, and prepare to operate during the rainy season. Some of the canal bars were not completely abandoned, and a lot of the stock was on the market; however, those who bought it were in a situation similar to someone who bought a bear skin while the original owner was still running wild in the forest, completely unaware that such an important part of themselves had become the subject of a commercial transaction.

There were frequent reports of rich discoveries in the mountain gorges, and many of them were found quite productive, inducing the occupants to throw up temporary habitations to protect them during winter. Those who wished to retain their claims on the river, would do so by leaving some utensil to keep possession, and spend a week in prospecting in the mountains. If successful in finding a productive spot, the pick-axe would be left in charge. A rich deposit was found in the{108} mountains about four miles distant, to which the attention of all was directed, and many threw up temporary huts and made preparation for the approaching winter. The place immediately assumed the appearance of a town. Stores were erected and filled, and monte-banks established to amuse the citizens. This newly discovered dry diggings is twelve miles from Coloma, the point at which gold was first discovered; the intervening distance being a succession of mountain gorges, all containing gold, many of the vales being in the possession of herds of wild cattle, that have never, until recently, been visited by man.

There were lots of reports about valuable finds in the mountain canyons, and many of those areas proved to be quite fruitful, prompting people to set up temporary shelters to stay warm during the winter. Those who wanted to keep their rights to the river would leave behind some tool to claim possession and then spend a week exploring the mountains. If they found a promising spot, they would leave a pickaxe behind as a sign of ownership. A rich deposit was discovered in the{108} mountains, about four miles away, which caught everyone's attention, and many built temporary huts and prepared for the upcoming winter. The area quickly started to look like a town. Stores were built and stocked, and monte-banks were set up to entertain the locals. This newly discovered dry digging site is twelve miles from Coloma, the location where gold was first found; the space in between consists of a series of mountain gorges, all containing gold, with many valleys occupied by herds of wild cattle that had never been explored by humans until recently.

Coloma is situated on the south fork of the American River, fifty-five miles from Sacramento City. The valley, though small, is one of the most beautiful in the State, being about three-fourths of a mile in width, and walled up on either side by lofty mountains. The saw-mill in the race of which gold was first discovered, is still standing and in operation. (See Plate.) The location of the town is extremely pleasant, being near a bend of the river, and commanding an extended view of the surrounding country. It was once infested by gamblers, but the miners took the matter in hand and drove them out at the point of the bayonet. A gigantic enterprise has been undertaken just below the town, by Mr. Little, of Maine. There is an abrupt bend in the river, the sweep around being three miles, and but a half-mile across; this half-mile is being tunneled to draw the water from the natural channel, which is supposed to be very rich in gold. A large frame was erected here for a flouring-mill, at the time the saw-mill was erected; but Mr. Sutter changing his plans, had it removed to the fort, and after the breaking out of the gold excitement it was taken to Sacramento City and erected, making the first hotel, in point of size and accommodations, in town, called the City Hotel. On the right of the accompanying plate will be seen a remnant of that persecuted and doomed race, the native California Indians.

Coloma is located on the south fork of the American River, fifty-five miles from Sacramento. The valley, though small, is one of the most beautiful in the state, about three-quarters of a mile wide, and surrounded by tall mountains on both sides. The sawmill where gold was first discovered is still standing and operational. (See Plate.) The town is in a very nice spot, near a bend in the river, offering a wide view of the surrounding area. It was once overrun by gamblers, but the miners took action and drove them out forcefully. A big project has been started just below the town by Mr. Little from Maine. There’s a sharp bend in the river, with a three-mile sweep and only a half-mile across; this half-mile is being tunneled to divert water from the natural channel, which is believed to be very rich in gold. A large frame was built here for a flour mill when the sawmill was constructed, but Mr. Sutter changed his plans and moved it to the fort. After the gold rush began, it was taken to Sacramento and rebuilt, becoming the first big hotel in town, called the City Hotel. On the right of the accompanying plate, you’ll see a remnant of that persecuted and doomed group, the native California Indians.

Hangtown, now Placerville, is situated three miles from the south fork of the American River, twelve miles from Coloma and fifty-five from Sacramento City. It is a dry diggings, or mountain gorge, and one of the most productive in the State. The surrounding country is extremely mountainous, with innumerable gorges, from which gold has been obtained in great abundance.

Hangtown, now called Placerville, is located three miles from the south fork of the American River, twelve miles from Coloma, and fifty-five miles from Sacramento City. It's a dry digging area or mountain gorge, and one of the most productive spots in the state. The surrounding region is very mountainous, with countless gorges that have produced gold in large quantities.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. COLOMA.

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Its first name originated in the execution of two men, a Spaniard and a Frenchman. They were guilty of murder and robbery, tried before Judge Lynch, and executed, all within twenty-four hours.

Its first name came from the execution of two men, a Spaniard and a Frenchman. They were guilty of murder and robbery, tried before Judge Lynch, and executed, all within twenty-four hours.

Soon after this, a man or lad, who was known as Irish Dick, had a difficulty with a person at a gaming table, in the Eldorado, after which he waylaid and murdered him. This was the second murder of which he had been guilty, and for this, his own life fell a sacrifice. The miners took him in charge, tied a rope round his neck, then giving him the other end, compelled him to climb a tree, go out on one of the limbs, fasten the end of the rope, and at the drop of a handkerchief, jump off. He complied with apparent cheerfulness, and died without a struggle.

Soon after this, a guy known as Irish Dick got into a fight with someone at a gaming table in the Eldorado, and then he ambushed and killed him. This was the second murder he had committed, and for this, he ended up losing his own life. The miners took him captive, put a rope around his neck, and handed him the other end, forcing him to climb a tree, walk out on one of the branches, tie the rope, and jump off when a handkerchief was dropped. He complied with an apparent sense of cheerfulness and died without putting up a fight.

This is now the first stopping-place for the overland emigration, from which cause, as well as that of the superior richness of the surrounding mountain gorges, it has become a place of much importance. At the time of which I am writing there were several rude houses constituting the town, all under the supervision of males—females, like the visits of their illustrious prototypes, being few and far between. I think the first one had not yet made her appearance.

This is now the first stop for the overland migration, and because of this, along with the greater richness of the nearby mountain gorges, it has become a significant place. At the time I'm writing, there were several basic houses making up the town, all managed by men—women, like the visits of their famous counterparts, were rare. I believe the first one hadn't arrived yet.

No nation with less genius than the “universal Yankee,” could have survived the privation, and even of these it required the genuine “wooden nutmeg” species, a couple of specimens of which are faintly portrayed in the accompanying plate. Their garments are of a cut not generally adopted in the Atlantic cities, yet I can assure the reader they are eminently fashionable in California. The general appearance of these individuals is a true index to the order and systematic arrangement that pervade the interior of their habitation. Nothing is done for show or ornament; everything bearing the impress of practicality and economy—one frying-pan, two tin-plates, both slightly touched with “ile,” to prevent rust, their knives in their pockets and forks in their hair. They are just going in, having finished their day’s work. They are practical miners, both having made fortunes at the business. Their house is well known by every one who has traveled through that region of the country, and many will associate with the “Yankee House” pleasant recollections, it having been a general resort and nightly scene of a sociable soirée, or something more brilliant.{110}

No nation with less ingenuity than the "universal Yankee" could have withstood such hardships, and even among them, it needed the genuine "wooden nutmeg" variety, a few examples of which are subtly depicted in the accompanying image. Their clothing style isn’t typically worn in the Atlantic cities, but I can assure the reader that it’s quite fashionable in California. The overall look of these individuals reflects the order and systematic arrangement that fills their home. Nothing here is for show or decoration; everything shows practicality and thrift—one frying pan, two tin plates, both slightly coated with oil to prevent rust, their knives in their pockets and forks in their hair. They are just coming in after finishing their day’s work. They are practical miners, both of whom have made fortunes in the business. Their house is well-known to everyone who has traveled through that area, and many will associate it with the "Yankee House," which holds fond memories, having been a popular gathering place and a lively venue for social evenings or something even more glamorous.{110}

There are numerous herds of wild cattle in these mountainous regions, which have never been hunted or molested by man, until since the discovery of gold, and even now their wildness and impetuosity render their capture extremely uncertain and perilous. The mountaineers, who always carry their lives in their hands and court danger in every form, are extremely loth to attack a wild bullock, even when well armed and mounted.

There are many herds of wild cattle in these mountainous areas that have never been hunted or disturbed by humans until the discovery of gold. Even now, their wild nature and fierce temperament make capturing them very unpredictable and dangerous. The mountaineers, who constantly live on the edge and seek out danger in various forms, are very reluctant to take on a wild bull, even when they're well-armed and on horseback.

The grizzly bear is a universal terror, and is rarely molested by experienced hunters, yet their capture is thought less perilous than that of a wild bullock, for these when wounded become frantic, and nothing can withstand them. Mr. Lewis, a neighbor who had gained a notoriety by his success in hunting the grizzly bear, having captured two in one day, and several others at different times, all through the fleetness and superior training of his mule, resolved to make an attempt upon a herd of wild cattle that were in the mountains not far distant. He considered his mule equal to any emergency, and having a rifle that plainly spoke for itself, he started on his perilous adventure. He found the herd feeding in a ravine, and approached very near before they eyed his mule with suspicion. They seemed quite unconscious of approaching danger, until one of them, catching the scent of the foe, threw up his head, gave the peculiar signal, and all were in motion; at this instant the rifle was discharged, the ball taking effect in the neck of one of the bullocks, bringing him upon his knees; he immediately recovered, and wheeling about, bounded with headlong speed in the direction of the mule. The moment was a critical one, the mule under the sting of the spur was doing his utmost, the bullock in hot pursuit, his eyes flashing fire, his tongue hanging from his mouth, the blood streaming from his nostrils, and he foaming and bellowing with the most terrific fury, gaining upon his adversaries at every bound. At length, he was upon them, the rider seeing no other alternative, caught the limb of a tree letting the mule pass on. The next bound, however, was his last, for the bullock overtaking him, struck him in the side bringing him to the ground, and after goring him several times, bounded away in the direction taken by the herd, and soon disappeared. Upon visiting the location of the above-described occurrence a few days thereafter, in passing through a slight gorge, I came upon

The grizzly bear is a widespread source of fear and is seldom bothered by seasoned hunters, yet capturing one is considered less dangerous than catching a wild bull. When wild bulls are injured, they become frantic, and nothing can stop them. Mr. Lewis, a neighbor who became well-known for successfully hunting grizzly bears—having caught two in one day and several others at different times, thanks to the speed and excellent training of his mule—decided to try his luck with a herd of wild cattle in the nearby mountains. He felt confident that his mule could handle any situation and armed himself with a reliable rifle before setting out on this risky adventure. He found the herd grazing in a ravine and got quite close before they noticed his mule and became suspicious. They seemed oblivious to the impending threat until one of them caught a whiff of danger, raised its head, made a distinctive call, and then they were all on the move. At that moment, he fired his rifle, and the bullet struck one of the bulls in the neck, bringing it down to its knees. It quickly recovered, turned around, and charged at the mule with reckless speed. The situation became critical as the mule, spurred on, was doing its best to escape, while the bull, eyes blazing, tongue hanging out, blood streaming from its nostrils, and bellowing in a furious rage, closed the gap with each leap. Finally, it lunged forward, and realizing he had no other choice, the rider grabbed a branch of a tree, allowing the mule to continue. However, that last leap was his final one, as the bull caught up to him, struck him in the side, and knocked him to the ground, goring him several times before dashing off in the direction of the herd and disappearing. A few days later, when I went back to the scene of this event, I passed through a narrow gorge and came upon

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. THE YANKEES HOUSE AT HANG TOWN So much lower than their heads they had to crawl in and double up like jack knives.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. THE YANKEES HOUSE AT HANG TOWN They had to crawl in and bend over like jack knives because it was so much lower than their heads.

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the bodies of three Indians who had been dead apparently about two weeks, each bearing the marks of the unerring rifle; they had been among the whites as their dresses indicated, two of them having on jean shirts, the other a blue flannel. Two of them were shot through the chest, the other through the head; the sight was a sad one, and gave rise to melancholy reflections, for here these poor beings are hunted and shot down like wild beasts, and these no doubt fell by the hand of the assassin, not for lucre but to satiate a feeling of revenge.

the bodies of three Indians who had apparently been dead for about two weeks, each showing the marks of a precise rifle; they had been among the white people as their clothing suggested, two of them wearing jean shirts and the other a blue flannel. Two of them were shot in the chest, the other in the head; the sight was tragic and prompted sorrowful thoughts, for here these unfortunate individuals are hunted and killed like wild animals, and these no doubt fell victim to the assassin, not for profit but to satisfy a desire for revenge.

In an adjoining territory the “red man” had a quiet home; their “wigwams” were always supplied with venison, their corn-fields ripened in autumn, their rude traps furnished clothing for the winter, and in the spring they danced in praise of the “Great Spirit” for causing flowers to bloom upon the graves of their fathers; but the white stranger came and took possession of their hunting grounds and streams, and harvested their corn. They held a council and decided that the Great Spirit had sent the white stranger, and it would be wrong not to give him all he wished; they collected their traps, bows, and arrows, and prepared to fall back in search of new streams and hunting grounds; they paid the last visit to the graves of their fathers. What were their feelings? The moon threw a pale, dim light through the foliage, the air breathed a mournful sigh as they reached the lonely mound; the stout-hearted warrior drew his blanket to hide his tears as he bowed down to commune for the last time with the spirits that had so often blessed him in the chase; his heart was too full, and he fell upon his face and wept bitterly. But, a last adieu; they rise, cross the arrows over the grave, and walk mournfully away; the Great Spirit gives them a new hunting ground, and the corn ripens on the plain, but soon the white stranger comes and tells them to fall back. They are at the base of the mountain; there are no hunting grounds beyond; if they go into the mountain their corn will not ripen, and their “papooses” will starve in the wigwam; they hold a council and decide to defend their homes against the encroachments of the white stranger. The whites were strong, and drove the red man into the mountains, and for the crime of having tried to defend their homes and offspring, they are placed under a ban, and hunted down like wild beasts. No{112} matter where they are found the crime of being a red man is a forfeiture, not only of all right to property but to life itself.

In a neighboring land, the Native Americans had a peaceful home; their huts were always stocked with deer meat, their cornfields thrived in the fall, their simple traps provided clothing for the winter, and in the spring, they celebrated the “Great Spirit” for bringing flowers to bloom on their ancestors' graves. But then the white invaders arrived and took over their hunting grounds and rivers, harvesting their corn. They held a meeting and concluded that the Great Spirit had sent the white stranger, and it would be wrong not to give him everything he desired. They gathered their traps, bows, and arrows, preparing to search for new rivers and hunting grounds, making a final visit to their ancestors’ graves. What were they feeling? The moon cast a soft, dim light through the trees, and the air seemed to sigh sadly as they approached the lonely grave; the brave warrior pulled his blanket around him to hide his tears as he bowed down to connect one last time with the spirits that had blessed him during hunts; his heart was too heavy, and he fell to the ground and wept deeply. But, a final farewell; they stood up, crossed their arrows over the grave, and walked away in sorrow; the Great Spirit provided them with a new hunting ground, and the corn thrived on the plains, but soon the white strangers returned and told them to retreat. They found themselves at the mountain's base; there were no hunting grounds beyond it; if they went into the mountains, their corn wouldn’t grow, and their children would starve in their homes. They held a meeting and decided to protect their land against the white stranger's encroachment. The whites were powerful and forced the Native Americans into the mountains, and for the “crime” of attempting to defend their homes and families, they were outlawed and hunted like wild animals. No matter where they were found, being a Native American was a violation that resulted in the loss of all property rights and even the right to live.

Will not some philanthropist rise above sectional prejudices, and undertake the regeneration of this truly noble but down-trodden people? Had I the wealth of an Astor I would not wish a better or nobler field for immortality.

Will not some philanthropist rise above regional biases and take on the upliftment of this truly noble but oppressed people? If I had the wealth of an Astor, I couldn't imagine a better or more noble cause for leaving a lasting legacy.

The first man I met after my arrival in the interior was an Oregonian on horseback, armed with a revolving rifle in search of Indians. He had had a horse stolen, and presumed it was taken by an Indian; he swore he “would shoot the first red-skin he met,” and I had no reason to doubt his word; still the chances were ninety-nine out of the hundred, that the horse was stolen by a white man. I have no doubt the three Indians above spoken of were wantonly shot while walking peaceably along their trail.

The first person I met after arriving in the countryside was an Oregonians on horseback, carrying a revolver and looking for Indians. He had a horse stolen and assumed an Indian took it; he swore he “would shoot the first Native American he encountered,” and I had no reason to doubt him. Still, the odds were pretty much one in a hundred that the horse was actually stolen by a white guy. I have no doubt that the three Native Americans I mentioned earlier were shot for no good reason while peacefully walking along their path.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. PLACERVILLE, (HANG TOWN).

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Chapter Nineteenth.

CANALLING OPERATIONS—UNSUCCESSFUL EXPERIMENTS—COFFEE MILLS AND GOLD WASHERS—FORMATION OF BARS—GOLD REMOVED FROM THE MOUNTAINS DURING THE RAINY SEASON—SNOW ON THE MOUNTAINS, AND ITS DISSOLUTION—RISE AND FALL OF THE RIVER—STOCK SPECULATIONS—QUICKSILVER MACHINES—SEPARATION OF GOLD AND QUICKSILVER—INDIVIDUAL ENTERPRISE—INCENTIVES TO EXERTION—EXPENSES.

To give the reader a more definite idea of the success attending mining, I will detail the result of the different operations in the vicinity of my place of business, commencing one mile above and extending four below; this is said to be as rich as the same extent on any river in the country. The Manhattan Bar was canalled and dammed by the Manhattan Co., being a party of New Yorkers, including Gen. Winchester and brother. After expending a large amount in turning the water from the bed of the river, they purchased several quicksilver machines at one thousand dollars each, and immediately put them in motion. It required but few days to convince them of the failure that must attend the enterprise; the machines did not collect enough to pay the men who worked them, and they were immediately abandoned for the common rocker, which, in their turn, were abandoned together with the entire work.

To give the reader a clearer picture of the success in mining, I will share the results of various operations near my business, starting one mile upstream and extending four miles downstream; this area is said to be just as rich as any similar stretch of river in the country. The Manhattan Bar was dammed and channeled by the Manhattan Company, made up of New Yorkers, including General Winchester and his brother. After spending a significant amount on diverting the river water, they bought several mercury machines for a thousand dollars each and got them up and running right away. It didn't take long for them to realize that the venture was doomed; the machines couldn't generate enough to cover the wages of the workers, and they quickly switched back to the traditional rocker, which were soon abandoned along with the entire operation.

The next in order was the Vigilance Bar; here a large amount of money was expended, and almost the entire summer devoted to the construction of a dam and canal, all of which, proved an entire loss to the parties concerned; they did not get enough to pay for the provisions consumed during the construction of the work. In the immediate vicinity of this was the Union Bar; a still greater amount in money and labor was expended here, but, as in the case of the Vigilance Co., it proved a total failure. In these two cases, sixty men had spent the entire summer in hard labor, and now were obliged to encoun{114}ter the rainy season, many of them in debt, and but few with sufficient means to buy a month’s provisions. In the latter company were several young Philadelphians, sons of the first men of that city; an adventurous spirit had induced them to leave their homes, and they were now encountering the realities of active life. Lacy’s Bar was next in order; there were many rich private leads in the vicinity of this bar, and it contained within its bounds many rich deposits. Soon after the completion of the canal the bar was offered for sale—a fire or flood at St. Louis making the proprietors’ return to the States imperative. I was unable to learn whether said fire or flood above-mentioned had actually transpired or was merely in anticipation, nor am I prepared to name the precise amount of net profits made by the purchasers of the above bar. Next is the Mormon Bar; the details as well as the result of this enterprise have been heretofore given. The next is Kentucky Bar; this undertaking paid to each stockholder seven hundred dollars, which was good wages. Next was Neptune’s, commonly known as “dead man’s bar,” the body of a miner having been found upon it; this bar was worked by sailors, and was the most productive in the country. It was said by those concerned, that they generally took out one pound ($200) per day to the man. The rainy season, however, destroyed their works before they had accumulated fortunes. The next bar was small, and without a name; operations here were unsuccessful, and soon abandoned.

The next in line was the Vigilance Bar; a significant amount of money was spent here, and almost the entire summer was dedicated to building a dam and canal, all of which ended up being a total loss for those involved; they didn't even make enough to cover the food used during construction. Close by was the Union Bar; even more money and labor were invested there, but, like with the Vigilance Co., it ended in complete failure. In these two instances, sixty men worked tirelessly all summer, and now they had to face the rainy season, many of them in debt, and only a few had enough to buy a month's worth of supplies. Among them were several young men from Philadelphia, the sons of prominent figures in that city; a spirit of adventure had led them to leave their homes, and they were now dealing with the realities of life. Next came Lacy’s Bar; there were several rich private leads nearby, and it was known to have many valuable deposits. Shortly after the canal was finished, the bar was put up for sale—a fire or flood in St. Louis made it necessary for the owners to return to the States. I couldn't find out whether that fire or flood actually happened or was just anticipated, nor can I state the exact amount of net profits made by the buyers of the bar. Next is the Mormon Bar; the details and results of this venture have already been discussed. Then we have Kentucky Bar; this project paid each stockholder seven hundred dollars, which was fair pay. Next was Neptune’s, also known as “dead man’s bar,” as a miner’s body was found there; this bar was worked by sailors and was the most productive in the country. Those involved claimed they generally took out one pound ($200) per man per day. However, the rainy season ended their operations before they could build their fortunes. The next bar was small and unnamed; efforts here were unsuccessful and were soon abandoned.

The next bar I will name Woodworth’s Bar; when I visited it three men were working a machine made by a Mr. Woodworth, of New York city; its construction was somewhat on the plan of, and much resembled, a large sized coffee-mill. For mining purposes the coffee-mill would have been decidedly preferable. Fortunately for miners but few of the machines made in the States ever found their way into the mineral regions; this being the only one I saw during my stay in the country. Immense numbers were shipped, and arrived in the bay of San Francisco; but, being pronounced entirely worthless, they were thrown overboard, not worth even the lighterage. This bar also proved a failure. The next below was Lehigh Bar; this was canalled, and immediately abandoned as worthless. Then came Little and Great Horse-Shoe Bars, neither of which paid for the{115} labor bestowed upon them. Not to mention the small intervening bars, I will pass on and mention, lastly, Smith’s Bar; this was one of the most gigantic works undertaken on the river. During its progress the feelings of those concerned were of the most sanguine character; in digging the canal they frequently came upon rich deposits, which would throw all into a phrensy of excitement, and some realized small fortunes by selling out during the progress of the work: after the completion of the work machines were put in operation, and all were expecting to reap golden harvests; some of the machines produced most bountifully, and others almost nothing. A few days convinced them that, as a party, they could not make wages, and the result was similar to those mentioned above.

The next bar I'll mention is Woodworth’s Bar; when I visited, three men were operating a machine made by a Mr. Woodworth from New York City. Its design was somewhat like that of a large coffee grinder. For mining, the coffee grinder would have been much better. Luckily for the miners, very few machines made in the States ended up in the mining areas; this was the only one I saw during my time in the country. A huge number were shipped and arrived in the San Francisco bay, but after being declared completely useless, they were tossed overboard, not even worth the cost of transport. This bar also turned out to be a failure. Next was Lehigh Bar; this one was dug out and quickly abandoned as useless. Then came Little and Great Horse-Shoe Bars, neither of which covered the labor costs. Skipping the smaller bars in between, I’ll finally mention Smith’s Bar; this was one of the largest projects attempted on the river. Throughout the project, those involved felt very optimistic; while digging the canal, they often found rich deposits that excited everyone, and some made small fortunes by selling their shares during the work. After the project was finished, machines were put into action, and everyone expected to reap golden rewards; some machines were very productive, while others yielded almost nothing. A few days in showed them that, as a group, they couldn’t make a profit, and the outcome was similar to those mentioned earlier.

In all the bars mentioned there were points of extreme richness. The calculations of those engaged in canalling were based upon a false, though somewhat plausible theory; the margin being rich, they very naturally came to the conclusion that the bed of the river must be much more so. It appears, however, that gold does not settle in the channel, but is borne along until some abrupt bend in the river checks the current, when it settles, together with the stone and earth, forming bars, which have been described in a former chapter. It is understood that these bars are formed during the rainy season. Torrents rush down the mountains, and on reaching the stream unite in bearing along the precious freight. It may seem strange that the current can convey gold to any considerable distance; it is nevertheless true, and it may seem less strange to one who has known the river to rise from twenty to thirty feet in as many hours. In such freshets the natural channel has no influence, the torrents claiming for their boundaries the mountains that tower up on either side. What is rain in the moderately elevated regions, is snow as you advance higher up into the mountains. This causes a long season of high water. The snow does not dissolve during the rainy season, the sun being obscured—but at its cessation torrents rush down the side of the mountains, and, not infrequently, huge masses of snow, as if impatient of their slow dissolution, will break loose from their fastenings, and with a terrific sweep dash into the chasm below. At this season of the year the rise and fall of the rivers are as uniform as the tides.{116}

In all the bars mentioned, there were spots of extreme wealth. The estimates made by those involved in canalling were based on a misleading, yet somewhat believable, theory; since the margin was rich, they naturally concluded that the riverbed must be even richer. However, it turns out that gold does not settle in the channel, but is carried along until an abrupt bend in the river slows the current, allowing it to settle, along with stones and earth, creating bars, which were described in a previous chapter. It's understood that these bars form during the rainy season. Torrents rush down the mountains, and when they reach the stream, they combine to carry the precious cargo. It may seem unusual that the current can transport gold over a long distance; nonetheless, it’s true, and it may seem less strange to someone who has seen the river rise twenty to thirty feet in just a few hours. During such floods, the natural channel doesn’t matter, as the torrents claim the mountains that rise on either side. What is rain in the moderately high areas turns into snow as you go higher up into the mountains. This leads to a prolonged season of high water. The snow doesn’t melt during the rainy season because the sun is blocked— but when it stops, torrents cascade down the mountainsides, and often, massive chunks of snow, seemingly impatient with their slow melting, will break free from their grips and crash into the chasm below. During this time of year, the rise and fall of the rivers are as consistent as the tides.{116}

As the sun approaches the meridian, streams become swollen, frequently rising several feet, and fall as it disappears behind the mountains. It ceases to rain about the first of March, but in consequence of the immense quantities of snow on the mountains, streams do not resume their natural channels until the first of July, at which time, deposits made during the flood are found, as a general thing, above water-mark. One cause and perhaps the main one, of the almost universal failure of canalling operations is, that the facilities attained do not counterbalance the enormous expenditures requisite. Another difficulty is that a company of thirty men cannot, in the mines, operate with the same economy of time that they can when working in pairs. As I had lost on my stock in the Mormon Bar I determined to make it up by buying in the balance, which I did at from ten to fifteen dollars per share, and eventually sold it at several hundred per cent. advance to a company designing to operate upon it with quicksilver machines. Gen. Winchester & Co. became joint owners, and soon several of the machines were in successful operation, propelled by water drawn from the canal. The success of the experiment was placed beyond a doubt. The machines used were called the “Burk rocker.” They were placed on an inclined plane, and in the upper riffles, which were of iron, was placed a quantity of quicksilver. Dirt was thrown in at the upper end of the machines, and as it was washed through, the rocking motion would bring it in contact with the quicksilver, which having a strong affinity for the gold, carefully collects it without including any other substance. After the quicksilver has taken up, or freighted itself to its utmost capacity, and become a solid mass, or amalgam, it is taken out and its place supplied.

As the sun reaches its highest point, streams swell and often rise by several feet, then recede as it sets behind the mountains. It typically stops raining around early March, but due to the large amounts of snow on the mountains, streams don't return to their normal paths until July. By then, the sediment left by the flood is usually found above high-water marks. One key reason for the overall failure of canal operations is that the benefits gained do not justify the massive costs involved. Another challenge is that a group of thirty men can't work as efficiently in the mines as they can in pairs. I had lost money on my investment in the Mormon Bar, so I decided to make up for it by buying the remaining shares, which I purchased for ten to fifteen dollars each, and later sold them for several hundred percent profit to a company planning to use quicksilver machines. Gen. Winchester & Co. became co-owners, and soon several of the machines were successfully operating, powered by water from the canal. The success of the project was undeniable. The machines, called the “Burk rocker,” were set on an incline, and iron riffles at the top held a quantity of quicksilver. Dirt was fed into the top of the machines, and as it flowed through, the rocking motion allowed it to come into contact with the quicksilver, which, having a strong attraction to gold, efficiently collects it without any other materials. Once the quicksilver has absorbed as much as it can and turns into a solid mass, or amalgam, it is removed and replaced.

In separating the gold and quicksilver the amalgam is put into a retort, to the top of which is screwed a crooked iron tube, the end passing into a vessel of water. A heat is raised under the retort of six hundred degrees, which causes the quicksilver to evaporate and pass up into the tube, when it condenses and passes down into the water. This operation is performed at a loss of only two and a half per cent. of the quicksilver. These machines were purchased at a cost of one thousand dollars each, although in the States they are worth less than forty. Their

In separating gold and mercury, the mixture is placed into a retort, which has a bent iron tube attached to the top, leading into a container of water. Heat is applied to the retort at six hundred degrees, causing the mercury to evaporate and travel up the tube, where it condenses and flows into the water. This process results in a loss of only two and a half percent of the mercury. These machines were bought for one thousand dollars each, even though they are worth less than forty in the States. Their

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. WHITE OAK SPRING.

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operation was very successful, and had it not been for the early deluge would have made fortunes for their owners.

operation was very successful, and if it hadn't been for the early downpour, it would have made fortunes for their owners.

The result attending individual enterprise was similar to that of canalling, with the exception that in the former case heavy debts were not contracted, and the individual, if he had not a fortune in his pocket, felt that what he earned was his own. I had a good opportunity to learn the daily proceeds of each man’s labor, my scale being at their service and almost universally used. I could name one hundred individuals, take them in order as they were operating along the river, and not more than ten of the number had, at the commencement of the rainy season, sufficient means to purchase provisions for the winter. They had labored hard; to-day, opening a lead; to-morrow, getting out an ounce; and the day after prospecting. They had been all summer just on the eve of making a rich discovery and a fortune, the prospect was always bright and cheering, the prize just, almost, within the grasp—to-morrow—never more distant than to-morrow. The lead is open to-day, to-morrow the reward, that to-morrow dawned to comparatively few. It is still about to dawn, and sought with the same enthusiasm. Could the miners have pocketed all they took from the earth, few, perhaps, would have had reason to complain, but the attending expenses were so great that it was almost impossible to live and keep anything in the purse. They would eat up at night what they had earned during the day, consequently the proceeds of labor passed immediately into the hands of those in trade.{118}

The results of individual efforts were similar to those of canalling, except that in the former case, people didn't take on heavy debts, and if someone didn't have a fortune, they felt that what they earned truly belonged to them. I had a great opportunity to learn about the daily earnings of each person's work, as my scale was available for their use and nearly everyone utilized it. I could name a hundred individuals, taking them in the order they worked along the river, and not more than ten of them had, at the start of the rainy season, enough resources to buy food for the winter. They had worked hard; one day, opening a lead; the next, extracting an ounce; and the day after that, prospecting. All summer long, they were right on the brink of making a significant discovery and hitting it big, with always a bright and encouraging outlook, the treasure just within reach—tomorrow—never more than tomorrow away. The lead is open today, and tomorrow brings the reward, but that tomorrow has come to very few. It is still about to arrive, eagerly awaited as before. If the miners could have kept everything they pulled from the earth, few would have had reasons to complain, but the costs associated with mining were so high that it was nearly impossible to survive and save any money. They would spend in the evening what they had earned during the day, meaning the profits from their labor quickly went into the hands of those in commerce.{118}

Chapter Twentieth.

COMMOTION IN THE POLITICAL ELEMENTS—CALIFORNIA A STATE—SLAVERY PROHIBITED—POLITICAL CAMPAIGN, AND THE RAINY SEASON—SPEECH OF A WOULD-BE-GOVERNOR—ENTHUSIASM AND BRANDY—ELECTION DISTRICTS—BALLOT-BOXES AND UMBRELLAS—MINERS IN A TRANSITION STATE—PREPARATIONS FOR THE RAINY SEASON—PRIMITIVE HABITATIONS—TRADE IMPROVING—ADVENT OF THE RAINY SEASON—ITS TERRIFIC EFFECTS—RAPID RISE OF THE RIVER—MACHINES DESTROYED—ARRIVALS—MY STORE AND BED—A BUSINESS SUIT—DISTRESSING GROANS—THE BOTTLE A CONSOLATION—SEVERAL STRANGE SPECIMENS OF HUMANITY COOKING BREAKFAST—THE SCURVY—A DEATH.

COMMOTION IN THE POLITICAL SCENE—CALIFORNIA AS A STATE—SLAVERY BANNED—POLITICAL CAMPAIGN AND THE RAINY SEASON—SPEECH BY AN ASPIRING GOVERNOR—ENERGY AND BRANDY—ELECTION DISTRICTS—BALLOT BOXES AND UMBRELLAS—MINERS IN A STATE OF CHANGE—PREPARATIONS FOR THE RAINY SEASON—PRIMITIVE HOMES—TRADE GETTING BETTER—ARRIVAL OF THE RAINY SEASON—ITS DEVASTATING IMPACT—RAPID RISE OF THE RIVER—MACHINES DAMAGED—NEW ARRIVALS—MY STORE AND BED—FORMAL ATTIRE—UPSETTING GROANS—THE BOTTLE AS A RELIEF—SEVERAL ODD CHARACTERS COOKING BREAKFAST—THE SCURVY—A DEATH.

We now, for the first time, had a commotion in the political elements, which resulted in erecting California into a State and placing her, the “bright particular star,” in this glorious constellation. An election was ordered, and delegates selected to draft a Constitution for the State. They met at Monterey, and after a few days’ deliberation passed upon the Constitution which is hereunto annexed, and which was eventually ratified by an almost unanimous vote of the people. The greatest unanimity prevailed at the Convention, the deliberations conducted with the utmost dignity, each seeming desirous to act for the best interests of the country. The clause prohibiting slavery, or involuntary servitude, passed by a unanimous vote, although many of the delegates were interested in slave property in the States. The nominations were made for State officers, and, although party lines were not strictly drawn, every preparation was made for a vigorous campaign.

We now, for the first time, experienced a stir in the political scene, which led to California becoming a State and placing her, the “bright particular star,” in this glorious constellation. An election was called, and delegates were chosen to draft a Constitution for the State. They gathered in Monterey, and after a few days of discussion, approved the Constitution that is attached here, which was eventually ratified by almost unanimous vote from the people. There was great unity at the Convention, and the discussions were conducted with the highest dignity, with everyone seeming eager to act in the best interests of the country. The clause banning slavery or involuntary servitude passed unanimously, even though many delegates had ties to slave property in the States. Nominations for State officers were made, and while party lines were not strictly enforced, every preparation was made for an active campaign.

The election was to take place on the 15th day of November, and by the time the nominees were ready to take the “stump,” the rainy season was upon us. Just picture to your imagination a would-be-governor, in a slouched India rubber hat, a poncho, and high boots, standing near a tent on the side of the mountain holding forth to a highly patriotic audience of six, the rain pouring down in torrents. Nothing could dampen the ardor of{119} the speaker; he had enlisted in the cause of the dear people, and nothing could induce him to swerve from the performance of his duty. The gist of his remarks was as follows:—“Fellow citizens, you have rights to protect. [Hurrah! Three cheers and two drinks of brandy.] I’ll spend my last breath in the vindication of those rights. [Three more!!] The mineral lands ought to be given to the people. [Three times three!!! Three cheers and six drinks.] Have not the sovereign people made this country what it is? [Yes! Yes!! and great cheering.] If I am elected I will use my influence to have this immense tract of country, now claimed by Sutter, divided among the people.” [Immense sensation and cheering.] After order was again restored, the speaker was invited to step out of the puddle of water that had dripped from his poncho, and take something to drink. The meeting was conducted with much spirit, and resulted in securing the votes of a majority present for the would-be-Governor.

The election was set for November 15th, and by the time the candidates were ready to hit the campaign trail, the rainy season had begun. Just imagine a wannabe governor in a slouchy rubber hat, a poncho, and tall boots, standing by a tent on the mountainside talking to a very patriotic crowd of six people, as the rain poured down like crazy. Nothing could dampen the enthusiasm of{119} the speaker; he was committed to fighting for the people, and nothing would stop him from doing his duty. The main points of his speech were: “Fellow citizens, you have rights to protect. [Hurrah! Three cheers and two drinks of brandy.] I’ll spend my last breath defending those rights. [Three more!!] The mineral lands should belong to the people. [Three times three!!! Three cheers and six drinks.] Haven't the sovereign people made this country what it is? [Yes! Yes!! and loud cheering.] If I’m elected, I’ll push to have this huge area of land, currently claimed by Sutter, divided among the people.” [Huge excitement and cheering.] Once things settled down, the speaker was asked to step out of the puddle of water dripping from his poncho and grab a drink. The meeting was full of energy and resulted in securing the votes of most people present for the aspiring governor.

At this time, this district of country, called the Minerva district, had become so populous that municipal officers had been elected, and now it was regularly divided into election districts, and arrangements made to open polls wherever it was deemed necessary. The qualification for an elector was to be an American citizen. The most prominent candidates for Governor were Judge Burnett, H. S. Sherwood and Rodman M. Price, of whom the former was elected. On the day of election the ballots were deposited in a hat, over which one of the inspectors held an umbrella.

At this time, the area known as the Minerva district had become so populated that municipal officials were elected, and it was now officially divided into election districts, with plans made to open polling places wherever needed. To qualify as a voter, one had to be an American citizen. The leading candidates for Governor were Judge Burnett, H. S. Sherwood, and Rodman M. Price, with Burnett being the one who won the election. On election day, the ballots were dropped into a hat, while one of the inspectors held an umbrella over it.

The middle of October finds the miners in a transition state. There has not a drop of rain fallen during the entire summer, and the earth, six feet below, is as dry as on the surface; one cannot move without being enveloped in dust; and vegetation is as crisp as if it had just been taken from the oven. There has been no haze to shield the earth from the sun, and at night the stars have twinkled with unwonted brilliancy; but now the sun has grown dim and pale, and the stars have fled to their hiding-place. Miners are admonished that it is time to prepare for an untried winter, and on every hand is evinced a disposition not to be taken unawares. Here on the side of the mountain is a habitation, three logs high, covered with canvas, the{120} crevices well “mudded,” all the light used being admitted through the door. There is a cave, walled and roofed with rocks, the canvas closing the entrance being the only indication that it is a tenement. An army tent is also seen, which is well secured, as if in momentary expectation of the approaching blast; dirt has been thrown well over the foot, to prevent the winds from searching out the occupant. In front is a tree, under which is a camp-kettle and frying-pan, and near are a few dying embers, the smoke curling up and mingling with the foliage. It seemed hard that one accustomed to the luxury of a comfortable home, should be doomed to spend the winter in this forlorn condition. Climbing up the side of the mountain, are seen mules heavily laden with provisions and mining utensils, which are destined to some favorite spot in the mountain gorges. Trade begins to improve, miners are laying in their supplies for the winter, and merchants find their stocks exhausted, and are driven to town to replenish. The sun assumes a peculiar color, and where it is reflected in the water is a “royal” purple. Its rays had become very dim, and on the 27th of October the deluge burst upon us.

The middle of October finds the miners in a transitional phase. There hasn’t been a drop of rain all summer, and the ground, six feet down, is as dry as the surface; you can’t move without getting covered in dust, and the vegetation is as crisp as if it just came out of the oven. There hasn’t been any haze to protect the earth from the sun, and at night the stars have shone unusually bright; but now the sun has become dim and pale, and the stars have hidden away. Miners are warned that it’s time to prepare for an unknown winter, and everywhere there’s a sense of wanting to be ready. Here on the mountain side is a shelter, three logs high, covered with canvas, with the{120} cracks well “mudded,” and the only light comes from the door. There’s a cave, built with rocks for walls and roof, with canvas blocking the entrance as the only sign of it being a living space. An army tent is also visible, firmly secured as if expecting a storm at any moment; dirt has been piled over the bottom to keep the wind from finding the occupant. In front, there’s a tree, under which sit a camp kettle and frying pan, and nearby are a few fading embers, with smoke rising and mixing with the leaves. It seemed unfair that someone used to the comfort of a nice home should have to spend the winter in such a bleak situation. Climbing up the mountainside, heavily loaded mules can be seen carrying supplies and mining tools, headed to some preferred spot in the mountain gorges. Trade is starting to pick up, miners are stocking up for the winter, and merchants are running low on supplies and are being forced into town to restock. The sun takes on a strange color, and where it reflects in the water, there's a “royal” purple. Its rays have become quite weak, and on October 27th, the downpour finally hit us.

General Winchester and company had just placed their quicksilver machine, and commenced successful operations on the bar, but one night destroyed their works, carrying one of their machines, laden with twenty-five pounds of quicksilver, a distance of three miles, destroying it, and emptying its valuable contents into the river. The rise of the river was so rapid that those on the opposite side, when it commenced to rain, found it impossible to recross six hours after. The scene was most terrific; the mountain on either side of the river, rose almost perpendicularly, and the torrents rushed down, undermining huge rocks, which, after making a few leaps, would come in contact with others of equal dimensions, when both, with one terrific bound, would dash into the chasm below.

General Winchester and his team had just set up their quicksilver machine and started successful operations on the bar, but one night, their setup was destroyed, carrying one of their machines, loaded with twenty-five pounds of quicksilver, three miles away, wrecking it and dumping its valuable contents into the river. The river rose so quickly that those on the opposite side, when it began to rain, found it impossible to cross back six hours later. The scene was absolutely terrifying; the mountains on either side of the river rose almost straight up, and torrents rushed down, eroding huge rocks that, after making a few jumps, would collide with others of similar size, and both, with one massive leap, would crash into the chasm below.

Mining operations were, for the time, suspended, and miners, many of whom were destitute of even the protection of a tent, were hovering about their fires in a most desponding mood; many were entirely destitute of means, and cooking, perhaps, their last day’s supply. Teams were constantly arriving with miners fresh from the States, who would descend the mountain

Mining operations were, for the moment, paused, and miners, many of whom had no shelter other than a makeshift campfire, were gathered around their fires looking very downcast; many were completely out of money, cooking what might be their last day’s food. Teams were constantly arriving with miners newly arrived from the States, who would go down the mountain.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS III NASSAU ST. N. Y. LOOKING DOWN THE BIG CANON.

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with high hopes, having been so fortunate as to fall in with some one who had directed them to this particular spot. They were generally well supplied with provisions, and notwithstanding the drenching rain, one hour after their advent would find them busily engaged with the pan and pick-axe.

with high hopes, having been lucky enough to meet someone who pointed them to this specific spot. They were usually well stocked with supplies, and despite the pouring rain, one hour after they arrived, they would be hard at work with the pan and pickaxe.

The store I occupied was made by driving stakes into the ground, and inclosing with common unbleached muslin; the roof flat, covered with the same material. It had answered a good purpose during the summer, but for the rainy season, I am not prepared to say it was exactly the thing. I do not know that the rain fell faster inside than out, but some of my neighbors insinuated that it did. I could keep tolerably dry by wearing an India rubber cap, poncho, and long boots, with the aid of a good umbrella, in short, this was my regular business suit. For a bed, I had a scaffold made of poles, on which I had a hammock stuffed with grass and straw, using a pair of blankets as covering. In order to keep my bed dry I had a standard at the head and foot, on which was a pole running “fore and aft,” serving as a ridge-pole, over which was thrown an India rubber blanket. On going to bed I would throw up one corner of my India rubber blanket, holding my umbrella over the opening, and after taking off my boots, I would crawl in feet first, throw back the rubber to its place, then tying my umbrella to the head standard I was in bed. My friends, Fairchild, Tracy, Jones, and Dean were not so fortunate. They would lay down on the ground in their blankets, and in one hour would be drenched to the skin; in this condition they were obliged to spend the balance of the night. Jones (formerly of the Cornucopia, New York) had a severe cough, his lungs being much affected, and he thought he was fast declining with the consumption. After becoming drenched and chilled his cough would set in, which, together with his distressing groans, would render night hideous, and cast a gloom over the most buoyant spirit. On rising in the morning, the bottle was our first consolation; it would elevate our spirits, and drive the chilly sensation from our limbs. A few large sticks had been thrown together and set on fire, around which would be seen a dozen strange-looking specimens of humanity, one with a red flannel shirt, part of a glazed cap, and torn unmentionables; another with a woolen-blanket, that{122} could boast of having secured, on the previous night, what rain had fallen in its immediate vicinity; another with an India rubber poncho and a hat that had been used both sides out, and, as if to assume a ferocious appearance, it had adopted the color of the grizzly bear. All hovering around the fire, some with pieces of pork on the ends of sticks, others with something in a frying-pan, covered with a tin plate; one is stirring flour and water together, while his companion is trying to turn the cakes; about every other one is disposed to go into the fire.

The store I stayed in was built by driving stakes into the ground and wrapping it with plain unbleached muslin; the roof was flat and made of the same material. It worked well during the summer, but I can't say it was ideal for the rainy season. I don't know if the rain fell faster inside than outside, but some of my neighbors hinted that it did. I could stay reasonably dry by wearing an Indian rubber cap, a poncho, and long boots, along with a good umbrella; basically, this was my everyday work outfit. For a bed, I had a scaffold made of poles with a hammock stuffed with grass and straw, using a couple of blankets for cover. To keep my bed dry, I had a frame at the head and foot, with a pole running along the length, acting as a ridge-pole, over which I draped an Indian rubber blanket. When going to bed, I'd lift one corner of the rubber blanket, hold my umbrella over the opening, and after taking off my boots, I'd crawl in feet first, pull the rubber blanket back over me, then tie my umbrella to the head of the frame, and I was settled in. My friends, Fairchild, Tracy, Jones, and Dean weren't so lucky. They would lie down on the ground in their blankets and within an hour would be soaked to the skin; they had to spend the rest of the night like that. Jones (formerly from the Cornucopia, New York) had a bad cough, his lungs were really affected, and he thought he was getting worse. After getting drenched and chilled, his cough would kick in, along with his painful groans, which made the night unbearable and dimmed the brightest spirits. In the morning, our first comfort was the bottle; it would lift our spirits and banish the chill from our limbs. A few big sticks had been piled together and set on fire, around which you'd see a dozen odd-looking people, one in a red flannel shirt, part of a glazed cap, and torn pants; another wrapped in a woolen blanket that could proudly claim to have caught the rain from the night before; another wearing an Indian rubber poncho and a hat that had been worn both ways, and, trying to look fierce, was the color of a grizzly bear. All gathered around the fire, some with pieces of pork on sticks, others with something frying in a pan covered with a tin plate; one was mixing flour and water together while his buddy was trying to flip the cakes; and it seemed like every other one was inclined to fall into the fire.

A disease at this time manifested itself, the symptoms of which were of a peculiar nature. It was called the “land scurvy,” and was caused by a want of proper vegetable diet. The blood of the system became thick and turgid, and diminished in quantity; there was but little circulation at the extremities, or near the surface of the body, the fleshy parts becoming almost lifeless; the gums became black and not unfrequently the teeth would fall out, the gums having so entirely wasted away. The malady became fearfully prevalent, and no remedy could be obtained; vegetables were not to had, there were none in the country. There had been a few, a very few, potatoes in the market, at prices varying from four shillings each to a dollar and a half per pound, but the supply was too scanty to arrest the disease, and many had become almost entirely disabled.

A disease emerged during this time, with symptoms that were quite unusual. It was called “land scurvy,” caused by a lack of proper vegetable diet. The blood in the body became thick and swollen, and the quantity decreased; there was little circulation at the extremities or near the surface of the body, and the flesh became almost lifeless. The gums turned black, and often, the teeth would fall out due to the gums completely wasting away. The illness spread alarmingly, and no cure could be found; vegetables were unavailable, as there were none in the country. There had been a few, very few, potatoes on the market, priced from four shillings each to a dollar and a half per pound, but the supply was too limited to stop the disease, leaving many almost completely incapacitated.

On the 28th of October, a man from Illinois fell a victim to this dreadful malady, and on the 29th, it was our painful duty to bear him to that lonely hill and consign him to the tomb. A board was placed at his head, on which was cut his brief epitaph. What a strange commentary upon the vicissitudes of human life. He was once an infant, fondled and caressed by an affectionate mother, a youth counseled by a doting father, and embraced and loved by sisters and brothers. He grew to manhood, pledged his hand and heart to the one he loved, combatted, perhaps, with adversity, and finally bade farewell to his own offspring, to die a stranger in a strange land.{123}

On October 28th, a man from Illinois became a victim of this terrible illness, and on the 29th, we sadly had to take him to that lonely hill and bury him. A board was placed at his head with his short epitaph carved on it. What a strange reflection on the ups and downs of life. He was once a baby, cared for and loved by a devoted mother, a young man guided by a loving father, and embraced by sisters and brothers. He grew up, promised his love to the one he cherished, faced challenges, and ultimately said goodbye to his own children, dying as a stranger in a foreign land.{123}

Chapter Twenty-first.

DANGEROUS NAVIGATION—A TRIP OVER THE FALLS—A NIGHT FROM HOME—SAILOR HOSPITALITY—SCARCITY OF PROVISIONS—A HAZARDOUS ALTERNATIVE—A WAYWARD BOY—PREPARATIONS FOR LEAVING THE INTERIOR—DISTRIBUTION OF EFFECTS—OUR TRAVELING SUIT—START FOR SAN FRANCISCO—FAREWELL—THREE INDIVIDUALS UNDER A FULL HEAD OF STEAM—ARRIVAL AT THE “HALF-WAY TENT”—POOR ACCOMMODATIONS—A MORNING WALK AND POOR BREAKFAST—WADING LAGOONS—WILD GEESE—ARRIVAL AT THE AMERICAN RIVER—OUR TOILET, AND ENTRY INTO SACRAMENTO CITY.

DANGEROUS NAVIGATION—A TRIP OVER THE FALLS—A NIGHT AWAY FROM HOME—SAILOR HOSPITALITY—LACK OF SUPPLIES—A RISKY ALTERNATIVE—A WAYWARD BOY—PREPARATIONS FOR LEAVING THE INTERIOR—DISTRIBUTION OF BELONGINGS—OUR TRAVELING GEAR—SETTING OFF FOR SAN FRANCISCO—GOODBYE—THREE PEOPLE FULL OF ENERGY—ARRIVAL AT THE “HALF-WAY TENT”—BAD ACCOMMODATIONS—A MORNING WALK AND A SHODDY BREAKFAST—WADING THROUGH LAGOONS—WILD GEESE—ARRIVAL AT THE AMERICAN RIVER—OUR GROOMING, AND ENTRY INTO SACRAMENTO CITY.

The river had become much swollen, and burst through among the rocks with the greatest fury. The rumbling of the rocks and stone as they were hurled from their beds, was incessant and almost deafening. Many of my friends lived on the opposite side of the river, and I had purchased a boat for their accommodation. The only place where a boat could be rowed across with safety, was above a fall occasioned, in part, by a dam. The water here was extremely rapid, but by heading well up stream, could be crossed in safety. Tracy generally volunteered to do the ferrying, but when I was disengaged I would do it myself.

The river had gotten really swollen and burst through the rocks with intense force. The sounds of rocks and stones being thrown from their beds were constant and almost deafening. Many of my friends lived on the other side of the river, so I had bought a boat for their convenience. The only safe spot to row a boat across was upstream from a waterfall created partly by a dam. The water here was extremely fast, but if you angled well upstream, you could cross safely. Tracy usually volunteered to do the ferrying, but when I was free, I would do it myself.

On one occasion, a party of six wished to cross, and I went down with them, paddled out into the stream, and as the boat came in contact with the strongest current, it swung around, when one of the passengers becoming frightened, applied a paddle on the upper side which aimed the boat for the fall, leaving no alternative but to go over. The fall was several feet, and below it huge masses of rock; the roaring of the water was terrific, almost deafening, and it was night. We were swept along with the velocity of an arrow, and as we came to the brink I discovered the limbs of a tree, which had floated down and caught. Being in the stern of the boat, I rose up and as it was about to break over, jumped and caught to the limb, my companions going over with the boat. My situation was{124} the most perilous imaginable. I was in the middle of the stream on the very brink of the precipice, the water up to my shoulders, and the stones tumbling from beneath my feet; my only support being the limb, to which I clung as if for life. It required almost superhuman effort to keep from being swept from my hold by the strength of the current. After feeling a little more secure, I felt below the surface and found another limb to which I clung, taking one step in the direction of the shore; after groping about, I found another and the last. I had now almost gained the upper side of a rock which rested on the brink just below the surface of the water. It was a crisis; it was extremely doubtful whether I could throw myself with sufficient force to catch the upper side of the rock. If I missed, the chances of life were against me, as I had no doubt some, if not all of my companions had already found a watery grave. It was no time for deliberation, and straining every nerve, I made one desperate struggle and gained the rock. I still had fifteen feet of the strength of the current to overcome, but by dexterous movements I succeeded in reaching the shore.

One time, a group of six wanted to cross the river, and I went down with them. We paddled out into the stream, and when the boat hit the strongest current, it spun around. One of the passengers got scared and paddled on the upper side, steering the boat toward the falls, leaving us no choice but to go over. The drop was several feet, and there were huge rocks below; the roar of the water was terrifying and almost deafening, especially since it was night. We were swept along like an arrow, and as we reached the edge, I saw the limbs of a tree that had floated down and gotten caught. I was in the back of the boat, so I stood up and, just as it was about to tip over, I jumped and grabbed a branch, while my companions went over with the boat. My situation was the most perilous imaginable. I was in the middle of the stream, right on the edge of the drop, with water up to my shoulders and rocks tumbling beneath my feet; my only support was the branch I clung to for dear life. It took almost superhuman effort to avoid being swept away by the current. Once I felt a bit more secure, I checked below the surface and found another branch to grab onto, taking a step toward the shore. After feeling around, I found another and then the last one. I was almost on top of a rock that was just below the surface of the water. It was a critical moment; I wasn’t sure if I could throw myself hard enough to grab the upper side of the rock. If I missed, my chances of survival were slim, especially since I feared that some, if not all of my companions, had already drowned. There was no time to think, so I strained every muscle and made one desperate leap and grabbed the rock. I still had fifteen feet of strong current to fight against, but with careful movements, I managed to reach the shore.

I immediately went in search of my friends; fortunately, we had two sailors with us, Billy and Charley, before spoken of. The boat ended over in passing down. Charley and Billy found their way to the shore, but Mr. Byram was dashed along among the rocks, apparently lifeless. They rushed in again and succeeded in dragging his body to the shore; we then hurried on to learn the fate of the others. On reaching the bend of the river we found the boat drifted against the rock, they clinging to its sides; they threw the hawser, and we drew the boat to the shore. Mr. Byram recovered, and we congratulated ourselves upon the auspicious termination of the adventure. They had been purchasing a quantity of provisions—flour, sugar, coffee, &c., all of which were “turned over” to tempt the appetite of the fishes.

I immediately went looking for my friends; luckily, we had two sailors with us, Billy and Charley, as mentioned before. The boat capsized while we were going down the river. Charley and Billy made it to the shore, but Mr. Byram was thrown around among the rocks, seemingly lifeless. They rushed back in and managed to drag his body to the shore; we then hurried on to find out what happened to the others. When we reached the bend in the river, we saw the boat had drifted against the rocks, with them clinging to its sides; they tossed the rope, and we pulled the boat back to the shore. Mr. Byram recovered, and we congratulated ourselves on the fortunate ending of the adventure. They had been buying a bunch of supplies—flour, sugar, coffee, etc., all of which ended up “overboard” to tempt the fish.

Their encampment was a mile above, and as it was impossible to recross the river here, I went with them, in hopes of being able to ferry over in a small boat they owned, but on arriving, found it had been carried away by the freshet. The evening was chilly; I was drenched; I had left things in an unsafe condition at the store, and as my friends imagined me drowned, I de{125}termined to return and endeavor to recross in my own boat. On arriving I turned it on the side as far as possible, to relieve it of the water inside, then tying the hawser to my arm, I stepped on board. I was carried down with the greatest velocity for some distance, when I brought up against a rock. I was again in motion, and again sided against a rock with such force that the water burst over filling my boat. There was now no alternative but to try to reach the shore, which, after sundry cold baths, I succeeded in doing.

Their camp was a mile up ahead, and since it was impossible to cross the river here again, I went with them, hoping to use a small boat they owned to ferry across. However, when we arrived, I found that the boat had been washed away by the flood. The evening was chilly, I was soaked, and I had left things in a dangerous state at the store. Since my friends thought I had drowned, I decided to head back and try to cross in my own boat. When I got there, I tipped it over as much as I could to get the water out, then tied a rope to my arm and stepped aboard. I was swept downstream really fast for a while until I hit a rock. I was moving again and crashed against another rock with such force that water poured into my boat. At that point, I had no choice but to try to reach the shore, which I eventually managed to do after several cold dips.

It was now late, and the night was extremely dark. One mile below were two sailor friends, and I resolved to reach their encampment. The first part of the route lay over a rocky promontory, overhanging the river. I passed over this by clinging to the shrubs and points of rocks. Occasionally one of the latter would leap from its bed, and with one terrific bound, disappear in the water below. On gaining the other side, I found the route easy, and soon gained the point of destination. I received a welcome from Tom and George (before spoken of) that sailors only know how to give. Tom cut wood, built a fire against a rock, and I was soon comfortably incased in a sailor’s suit, mine hanging by the fire, George, in the meantime, boiling the tea-kettle, frying pork and toasting bread, and I was soon invited into the tent to partake of their hospitalities. Tom assisted me in the morning; I reached my tent at noon. To Tom, George, Charley, and Billy, (the latter has since died)—may fortune crown their efforts, and friendship always smile!

It was late, and the night was pitch dark. A mile below were two sailor friends, and I decided to head to their campsite. The first part of the journey was over a rocky outcrop that jutted over the river. I navigated this by holding onto the shrubs and rock edges. Occasionally, a rock would break loose and plunge into the water below. Once I made it to the other side, the path became easier, and I soon reached my destination. Tom and George, as mentioned earlier, welcomed me in a way only sailors know how to do. Tom chopped wood and built a fire against a rock, and I quickly changed into a sailor’s suit while mine dried by the fire. Meanwhile, George was busy boiling the kettle, frying pork, and toasting bread, and I was soon invited into the tent to enjoy their hospitality. Tom helped me out in the morning, and I returned to my tent by noon. To Tom, George, Charley, and Billy (who has since passed away)—may luck bless their endeavors and friendship always shine!

The mining districts soon became almost destitute of provisions, and the country impassable in consequence of the immense fall of rain. There was a reported scarcity of flour, and it rose in one day, at San Francisco, from $16 to $40 per barrel, and in the mines from 30 cents to $1.50 per pound. I had laid in a good supply at a low price, but after this was exhausted the only way in which I could keep a supply, was to buy out those who were about to return to town. There was an almost universal desire to leave the mines, and but few remained excepting those who were from necessity compelled to. Some were preparing to return to the States; the number, however, was few. We had formed strong attachments, having participated in so many vicissitudes, and the thought of separating gave rise{126} to gloomy reflections, particularly to those who were to remain. The supply of provisions had become so entirely exhausted, that many had resolved upon the hazardous alternative of going into the mountains, and wintering on the food procured with their rifles. At the head of the list was my friend Tracy. Nothing could induce him to go to town; he had as great an aversion to civilization as his friend Jim. He had left his home when a boy, and was probably never heard of by his parents; the connection was entirely severed, and he looked upon his rifle as his only true friend and reliance.

The mining areas quickly ran out of supplies, and the roads became impossible to navigate because of the heavy rain. There was a reported shortage of flour, causing the price to jump from $16 to $40 per barrel in San Francisco in just one day, and in the mines, it soared from 30 cents to $1.50 per pound. I had stocked up at a lower price, but once that was gone, the only way I could keep getting supplies was by buying from those who were about to head back to town. Almost everyone wanted to leave the mines, and only a few remained out of necessity. Some were getting ready to return to the States, but they were few in number. We had built strong bonds after going through so much together, and the thought of parting led to gloomy feelings, especially for those who were staying behind. The food supply had run so low that many had decided to take the risky chance of heading into the mountains and living off whatever they could hunt. Leading that group was my friend Tracy. Nothing could convince him to go back to town; he disliked civilization as much as his friend Jim did. He had left home as a boy and was probably never heard from again by his parents; that connection was completely cut off, and he considered his rifle to be his only true friend and source of support.

Having sold out my stock, Mr. Fairchild, Mr. Jones, and myself had resolved to start on the 17th of November for San Francisco, Mr. F. and myself destined for home. The only preparation necessary was to distribute our surplus effects among our friends; at this particular time it afforded more pleasure to give than to receive. Nothing was movable, hardly ourselves; the earth had become so thoroughly saturated, we would either of us have been loth to accept a new suit of clothes, ragged as we were. We each reserved a pair of pantaloons, a flannel shirt, glazed cap, and stogy boots. These, in connection with our blankets, constituted our outfits. Our firearms we found it difficult to dispose of; they were entirely useless, and our friends accepted them merely as an act of courtesy. My revolver, I had carried across the Isthmus, and kept during my stay in California, and when I disposed of it, it had not had the honor of being charged.

Having sold out my stock, Mr. Fairchild, Mr. Jones, and I decided to leave for San Francisco on November 17th, with Mr. F. and I heading home. The only preparation we needed was to give away our extra belongings to our friends; at that moment, it felt better to give than to receive. Nothing was portable, hardly even ourselves; the ground was so soaked that we would have been reluctant to accept a new set of clothes, ragged as we were. We each kept a pair of pants, a flannel shirt, a cap, and some sturdy boots. These, along with our blankets, made up our supplies. We found it hard to get rid of our firearms; they were totally useless, and our friends accepted them just as a favor. I had carried my revolver across the Isthmus and kept it during my time in California, and when I got rid of it, it hadn't even been loaded.

On the morning of the 17th my successor took possession of the store, and we were preparing to start, the rain pouring down a deluge. Our friends had all collected to bid us farewell, and to give into our charge letters to their friends. It was a gloomy morning, and a feeling of sadness appeared to steal over the minds of those we were about to leave. Having contracted with a gentleman who was to leave two days after, to deliver a package for me at Sacramento City, we filled our bottles with “Monongahela,” and putting a certain quantity where the effects would be more immediately felt, bade farewell to all, and started up the mountain. We were soon hailed by Tracy and Dean, who were not yet reconciled to parting with us, and who accompanied us a mile to the top of the mountain.{127} We here came to a halt, and took the hands of our friends for the last time. We were all most sensibly affected, and although we had become inured to hardships and privations of every description, we could not, on this occasion, restrain our tears.

On the morning of the 17th, my successor took over the store, and we were getting ready to leave, with rain pouring down heavily. Our friends had gathered to say goodbye and to hand us letters for their friends. It was a gloomy morning, and a sense of sadness seemed to settle over those we were leaving behind. I had arranged with a gentleman, who was leaving two days later, to deliver a package for me in Sacramento City, so we filled our bottles with “Monongahela” and put some where it would hit us more immediately. After saying goodbye to everyone, we started up the mountain. Soon, Tracy and Dean caught up to us; they weren’t ready to part with us yet and accompanied us for a mile to the top of the mountain. Here, we stopped and shook hands with our friends for the last time. We were all deeply moved, and even though we had grown used to all kinds of hardships, we couldn’t hold back our tears this time. {127}

It was about 2 P.M. when we resumed our journey, and we had resolved to walk to the “half-way tent,” twenty-two miles distant. We were obliged to wade through mud to the tops of our boots, and on one occasion Jones sunk so deeply into the mud that we were obliged to pry him out. The first two miles found us much fatigued, and we were obliged to consult our bottles for relief; the next two found us running under a full head of steam, our walking beams in the finest working order. There was an evident disposition to try our relative speed, and the probability is that we never attained a higher rate than on this particular occasion. We did not meet any one on the road, but we met a number of trees, and although entire strangers, we made ourselves as familiar as though we had been acquainted with them for years; I hope they do not remember what we said to them. We thought Fairchild made too much lee-way; Jones had so much freight on deck that he rolled about tremendously; I found it difficult to keep on an even keel, and was so heavily laden forward, that it was almost impossible to support the “figure-head.” We all, however, made good time, considering the depth of water we drew. Sunset (it did not rise that day) found half our journey performed, and three-fourths of our fuel consumed; we did not let the engines stop, but steamed on, the paddles frequently throwing mud into the faces of the passengers. About 9 P.M., one of the vessels was noticed to careen, but it righted, and we kept on until half-past ten, when we arrived at the half-way tent.

It was around 2 P.M. when we continued our journey, and we decided to walk to the “half-way tent,” which was twenty-two miles away. We had to wade through mud up to our boots, and at one point, Jones got stuck so deep in the mud that we had to pull him out. The first two miles left us pretty exhausted, so we had to reach for our water bottles for relief; the next two miles, though, saw us moving with full energy, our walking pace in perfect form. There was a clear urge to test our speeds against each other, and it's likely that we never reached a faster pace than we did that day. We didn't see anyone on the road, but we encountered several trees, and even though they were complete strangers, we acted like we were old friends; hopefully, they don't remember what we said to them. We thought Fairchild was lagging behind too much; Jones had so much gear that he was swaying all over the place; I found it hard to stay balanced, and I was so weighted down at the front that it was nearly impossible to keep the "figure-head" up. Still, we all made decent progress, considering the muddy terrain. By sunset (which didn't rise that day), we had completed half our journey, and three-quarters of our fuel was used; we didn’t stop the engines and kept on steaming, with the paddles often splashing mud into the faces of the passengers. Around 9 P.M., one of the vessels tilted, but it righted itself, and we continued until half-past ten when we reached the half-way tent.

If I was ever glad to put into port, it was at this time, and we certainly put in in “stress of weather.” We found the tent full, and when we called for supper were told that there was nothing to eat, except a piece of salt beef which was in the barrel. We ordered this cooked, and made a supper of brandy and beef. We now looked about for a place to sleep, but were obliged to spread our blankets on the wet ground. If I ever felt the necessity of a place on the dry dock, it was at this time; our clothes were wet with rain and perspiration, and now we{128} were cold and stiff, and the thought of laying down for the night in the mud, was dreadful. There was no alternative, and we submitted with the best possible grace.

If I was ever happy to arrive at a port, it was at this moment, and we definitely arrived in “rough weather.” We found the tent full, and when we asked for supper, we were told there was nothing to eat except a piece of salt beef in the barrel. We had it cooked and had a supper of brandy and beef. We then looked for a place to sleep, but we had to spread our blankets on the wet ground. If I ever needed a spot on a dry dock, it was now; our clothes were soaked from the rain and sweat, and now we{128} were cold and stiff, and the idea of lying down for the night in the mud was terrible. There was no other choice, and we accepted it with the best attitude we could manage.

The “tent” was kept by Mr. Wilkin (or Wilky,) assisted by his amiable lady. They were from Scotland, having been in the United States about seven years, most of which time they had lived in their wagon or a tent; part of the time they had lived on the extreme frontier of Missouri, after which they crossed over to Salt Lake, then into Oregon, and finally down to California. They had spent the summer in the mines, and after the commencement of the rainy season had started for Sacramento City with a six-mule team. After much toil they reached this point when two of the mules were “mired,” the others strayed, leaving them no alternative but to remain for the winter. They constructed temporary accommodations for travelers, and since my return to New York I met them at the Irving House, and was happy to learn that they were most bountifully rewarded for their detention. We rose the next morning, had our bottles refilled, and, as we had no particular appetite for salt beef, we resolved to walk ten miles to breakfast. Our motive powers had rusted during the night, and we found it almost impossible to move, but our bottle, like quack medicines of the present day, was a universal panacea; we applied it in this case with success. We were soon making as good time as on the previous day, but it was soon apparent that Jones must either bend on “studding-sails,” or fall behind; he chose the latter alternative, and before 9 o’clock, A.M., he was “hull down.” We arrived at the “blue tent” at 10, A.M., and ordered breakfast, but we had the consolation of learning from the worthy host that he had nothing to eat. This was just what we had had for supper the previous night, and informed him that we wished something a little better for breakfast. He had flour, which was full of worms, and we had warm biscuit for breakfast.

The “tent” was run by Mr. Wilkin (or Wilky), helped by his friendly wife. They were originally from Scotland and had been in the United States for about seven years, mostly living in their wagon or a tent. For a time, they lived on the far edge of Missouri, then moved to Salt Lake, traveled into Oregon, and finally made their way to California. They spent the summer in the mines, and after the rainy season began, they set off for Sacramento City with a six-mule team. After a lot of hard work, they arrived at this point when two of the mules got stuck in mud, and the others wandered off, leaving them no choice but to stay for the winter. They built temporary accommodations for travelers, and since I returned to New York, I met them at the Irving House and was pleased to find out that they were generously compensated for their delay. We got up the next morning, had our bottles refilled, and since we weren't really in the mood for salt beef, we decided to walk ten miles for breakfast. After a long night, we found it almost impossible to move, but our bottle, like today’s miracle cures, worked wonders; we used it and it helped. We quickly found ourselves making as good time as the day before, but it became clear that Jones had to either pick up the pace or lag behind; he chose to fall behind, and by 9 o’clock, A.M., he was “hull down.” We arrived at the “blue tent” at 10, A.M., and ordered breakfast, but the kind host told us he had nothing to eat. This was just what we had for supper the night before, so we told him we wanted something a bit better for breakfast. He had flour, which was full of worms, and we had warm biscuit for breakfast.

We were again under way, and soon came out upon an open plain which extended to the American River, fifteen miles distant. This plain, although quite elevated, was covered with “lagoons,” or small lakes, all swarming with wild geese, ducks and brant. A finer opportunity for a sportsman could not well be imagined, but to us the lakes afforded but little amusement;

We were on the move again and soon emerged onto an open plain that stretched all the way to the American River, fifteen miles away. This plain, while quite high, was dotted with “lagoons,” or small lakes, all filled with wild geese, ducks, and brant. It was an amazing opportunity for any sportsman, but for us, the lakes offered very little entertainment;

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. THE PLAINS NEAR SAC CITY in the Flowry Season.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. THE PLAINS NEAR SAC CITY in the Flowering Season.

{129}

some of them we could go around, others we were compelled to wade through. The entire plain was dotted with covered wagons that had been loaded with provisions for the interior, but, in trying to cross, the teams had “mired” and the wagons been abandoned.

some of them we could go around, others we were forced to wade through. The whole plain was scattered with covered wagons that had been loaded with supplies for the interior, but in trying to cross, the teams got stuck and the wagons were left behind.

On arriving within sight of the ferry, we came to the margin of a lagoon that stretched away to the river, leaving us no alternative but to wade; the practicability of this could only be learned by sounding. This was not a time for deliberation, and taking my blankets, &c., on my shoulder, I waded in; after wading to my neck it grew more shallow, and my companion followed. We reached the ferry boat and were soon on the opposite bank of the river.

On arriving within sight of the ferry, we reached the edge of a lagoon that extended toward the river, leaving us no choice but to wade through it; we could only find out if it was possible by testing the depth. This wasn't a moment for second-guessing, so I grabbed my blankets and other stuff, threw them over my shoulder, and waded in; after immersing myself to my neck, the water got shallower, and my companion followed. We made it to the ferry boat and were soon on the other side of the river.

We were now within sight of Sacramento City, and as it was Sunday our first attention was bestowed upon our toilet. We sat down on the bank of the river, pulled off our boots, poured the water out of them, wrung out our socks, and after replacing these we took off our caps, brushed up our hair, imagined that our moustache curled, (we could not tell, for the river was too muddy to reflect our faces,) adjusted the skirt of our flannel, then throwing our chest out, with our head at an angle of about 23°, we stood in for the city, passing in at the head of J. street, which we found in fine navigable order, the water extending to the door-sills on either side.{130}

We were now in sight of Sacramento City, and since it was Sunday, our first focus was on getting cleaned up. We sat down on the riverbank, took off our boots, emptied the water out of them, wrung out our socks, and after putting them back on, we removed our caps, fixed our hair, imagined our mustaches were curled (we couldn’t see for sure since the river was too muddy to reflect our faces), adjusted the hem of our flannel shirts, and then, puffing out our chests with our heads tilted at about a 23° angle, we headed into the city, entering at the beginning of J. Street, which we found in great condition for navigation, with the water reaching the doorsteps on both sides.{130}

Chapter Twenty-second.

A DRY SUIT—RESTAURANTS—WAITERS AND CHAMPAGNE—TWO INDIVIDUALS “TIGHT”—A $10 DINNER—MONTE-BANKS AND MUD—GAMBLING AND ITS RESULTS—GROWTH OF SACRAMENTO CITY—UNPARALLELED PROSPERITY—A REVULSION AND ITS CAUSE—THE FLOOD.

A DRY SUIT—RESTAURANTS—WAITERS AND CHAMPAGNE—TWO PEOPLE “TIGHT”—A $10 DINNER—MONTE-BANKS AND MUD—GAMBLING AND ITS OUTCOMES—GROWTH OF SACRAMENTO CITY—UNMATCHED PROSPERITY—A DISLIKE AND ITS REASON—THE FLOOD.

Our first want was a dry suit, consequently we were on the qui vive for a clothing establishment; the first store we came to was unfinished, the front being hung with blue jean. This we pulled aside, and found, not only clothing, but an old acquaintance. I was soon in my dishabille, and as soon in full dress. We now feel comfortable; but near by is a restaurant, where they serve up beef and venison steak, chickens and turkeys, with coffee, tea, and champagne, &c., &c. Do not be impatient, dear reader, for only think what we had at our last supper and breakfast. We soon found ourselves seated at a table at the Empire, surrounded by three waiters, and I never saw waiters before that bore such a strong resemblance to guardian angels. I could hardly tell the difference. One hour after, we were in the same position. We were refreshed; our waiters were jaded; our champagne bottles were standing before us, with their mouths wide open; we were sitting down with ours in the same condition. My companion would look at me and give a knowing wink. I would wink knowingly at him. Then we would both laugh. We would fill our glasses and wink and laugh again. We were at this particular time rich and happy. We had money in our pockets, and felt that community were largely indebted to us. When we were informed at the bar that our bills were $10 each, we were surprised at the extreme moderation of our host.

Our first need was a dry suit, so we were on the lookout for a clothing store; the first shop we found was still a work in progress, with the front covered by blue denim. We pushed it aside and discovered not only clothes but also an old friend. I quickly changed out of my casual wear and into proper attire. We felt comfortable now; nearby, there was a restaurant that served beef and venison steaks, chickens and turkeys, along with coffee, tea, champagne, and so on. Don’t be impatient, dear reader; just think about what we had for our last dinner and breakfast. Before long, we were seated at a table at the Empire, surrounded by three waiters who resembled guardian angels more than anyone I had ever seen. I could hardly tell the difference. An hour later, we found ourselves in the same spot. We were refueled; our waiters looked worn out; the champagne bottles were in front of us, their tops wide open; we were sitting there with ours in the same state. My companion would glance at me and give a knowing wink. I would wink back. Then we’d both laugh. At that moment, we felt rich and happy. We had money in our pockets and believed the community owed us a lot. When we learned at the bar that our bills totaled $10 each, we were surprised by how reasonable our host was.

We now sallied forth into the street, and spent the afternoon and evening in the most jovial manner, going the rounds of the

We now headed out into the street and spent the afternoon and evening in the most cheerful way, visiting the

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. SACRAMENTO CITY, FROM THE FOOT OF J STREET.

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gambling houses, theatres, &c. The gambling and eating-houses were thronged, and appeared to be doing all the business of the town. Monte-banks were even opened under tents, the patrons standing up to their knees in mud. The Round Tent contained eight tables, each letting for eight dollars per day. These, together with the profits of the bar, paid Mr. Weeks, the proprietor, at least $100 per day—a fair income for a tent, particularly one in which a man needs an umbrella and a pair of India rubber boots. The rain did not dampen the ardor of the operators, but caused them to treat more frequently, which gave them more ready access to their victims.

gambling houses, theaters, etc. The gambling and dining spots were packed and seemed to be handling all the business in town. Monte-banks even set up under tents, with customers standing up to their knees in mud. The Round Tent had eight tables, each renting for eight dollars a day. These, along with the bar's profits, brought Mr. Weeks, the owner, at least $100 a day—a decent income for a tent, especially one where you'd need an umbrella and rubber boots. The rain didn’t dampen the enthusiasm of the operators but made them treat more often, giving them easier access to their targets.

Here were gray-haired men commingling with boys in the game—profanity and dissipation—some of them having passed, perhaps, within the last twenty-four hours, from a competence to penury. A gloom seemed to pervade the countenance, revealing the reckless despondence that reigned within.

Here were older men mingling with young boys in the game—cursing and indulging—some of them having gone, perhaps, in the last twenty-four hours, from being well-off to broke. A darkness seemed to fill their faces, showing the careless hopelessness that ruled inside.

How truthfully were their feelings portrayed in the gloom of the surrounding elements. Here were young men, who, a few months previous, had left their friends and homes with vigorous constitutions, and characters unblemished, to seek their fortunes in this land of gold. A few short months had sufficed to accomplish the work of ruin. In an unguarded moment they were tempted from the path of rectitude; they visited the gaming-tables and halls of dissipation; and when the brief dream was over, they awoke and found ruin, like a demon, staring them in the face. They had neither means nor character, and their constitutions had been laid waste by the blighting hand of dissipation. Who can calculate the hours of anguish, or tears of blood that have been wrung from the hearts of bereaved parents and friends by that blighting curse.

How honestly were their feelings expressed in the darkness of their surroundings. Here were young men who, just a few months earlier, had left their friends and families in good health and with clean reputations to try their luck in this land of gold. A few short months were enough to bring about their downfall. In a moment of weakness, they strayed from the straight path; they went to the gambling tables and places of excess; and when the fleeting dream ended, they woke up to find ruin, like a demon, staring them down. They had neither money nor honor, and their health had been destroyed by the devastating effects of excess. Who can measure the hours of anguish or the tears of sorrow that have been shed by grieving parents and friends because of that destructive curse.

Sacramento had become a large city (see Plate), and, next to San Francisco, the most important town in the State. It numbered at this time from twelve to fifteen thousand inhabitants. The town is regularly laid out, the streets running at right angles, many of which are closely built upon for the distance of a mile. The margin of the river is bold, and vessels of the largest class are moored to its banks. Some of them are used as stores, others as dwelling or boarding places. The steamer Senator runs up to the bank and puts out a gang-plank, which{132} is all that is necessary for the accommodation of passengers. The town at the time was submerged in mud, the streets almost impassable. Flour, pork, bread, &c., were piled up along the sides of the streets without protection. There were many surmises as to the probability of the city being flooded in case of freshet. It was said by the “oldest inhabitant” that the surrounding country, including the site of the town, had been flooded, so that canoes had been navigated as far as Sutter’s Fort. Indications went to confirm his statement. There are gullies running through the town that have undoubtedly been caused by floods, and in the sequel, proved channels too small to relieve the city from inundation.

Sacramento had grown into a large city (see Plate), and, next to San Francisco, it was the most important town in the State. At that time, its population ranged from twelve to fifteen thousand residents. The town is well-organized, with streets running at right angles, many of which are densely built up for about a mile. The riverbank is steep, and large vessels are docked along its shores. Some of these boats are used as stores, while others serve as homes or boarding houses. The steamer Senator approaches the bank and lowers a gangplank, which{132} is all that's needed to accommodate passengers. The town was then covered in mud, with streets nearly impassable. Flour, pork, bread, etc., were stacked along the sides of the streets without any protection. There were many speculations about the chances of the city flooding in the event of a freshet. The "oldest inhabitant" claimed that the surrounding area, including the location of the town, had been flooded, allowing canoes to navigate as far as Sutter’s Fort. Evidence supported his statement. There are gullies running through the town that were undoubtedly caused by floods, and later proved to be channels too small to prevent the city from flooding.

Many kinds of goods had become extremely scarce, and were selling at exorbitant prices. This was the case with woollen clothing, boots, and provisions. Common flannel shirts were selling at from $5 to $8 each; blankets at from $12 to $20 per pair; and ordinary boots from $20 to $32. Long boots of grained leather were held at, and selling for 6 ozs. ($96.) The interior, or mining regions, were entirely destitute, and merchants were in town from every point, trying to contract for the transportation of goods. Teamsters knew the country to be impassable, and although as high as $50, and even $100 per 100 lbs. was offered for a distance of fifty miles, no one would make the attempt. The consequence was, that miners were driven into town in many cases, to prevent starvation. Trade, during the latter part of the summer, and for the first one or two weeks of the rainy season, had been remarkably brisk in Sacramento City. The advance in prices of all the staple articles had enabled merchants to reap immense profits, and many, within a few weeks, had made fortunes.

Many types of goods had become extremely rare and were being sold at outrageous prices. This included wool clothing, boots, and food supplies. Common flannel shirts were priced between $5 and $8 each; blankets ranged from $12 to $20 per pair; and regular boots went for $20 to $32. Long boots made of grained leather were listed at, and sold for, 6 ounces ($96). The interior, or mining areas, were completely lacking in supplies, and merchants from everywhere were in town trying to secure transportation for goods. Teamsters knew the roads were impassable, and even with offers as high as $50 to $100 per 100 lbs. for a distance of fifty miles, no one was willing to attempt it. As a result, miners were often forced into town to avoid starvation. Trade during the later part of the summer and the first week or two of the rainy season was surprisingly lively in Sacramento City. The rise in prices of all basic items allowed merchants to make huge profits, and many had made fortunes in just a few weeks.

The impetus to trade had come upon them, unawares; some had leased their stores for short terms; others merely kept possession from day to day; but when this season of prosperity burst upon them, all were anxious to secure leases for the longest possible period. Thousands were eager to embark in trade, offering unparalleled rents—in many cases as high as $100 per day for a store. Long leases were granted at these exorbitant rents, and in consequence of the scarcity of tenements, lots were purchased—the prices predicated upon the above—buildings

The drive to trade hit them unexpectedly; some had rented their shops for short periods; others just held onto them day by day; but when this wave of prosperity came, everyone was eager to secure leases for the longest time possible. Thousands wanted to get into business, offering unbeatable rents—in many cases as high as $100 a day for a store. Long leases were granted at these outrageous rents, and because there was a shortage of places, lots were bought—prices based on the above—buildings

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. S^T. LUCAS. LOWER CALIFORNIA. (Looking Northwest)

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erected and immediately occupied. A season of prosperity had been experienced without a parallel. Men were not confined in their operations to their legitimate business, but would invest in anything that presented itself, and everything had been turned to advantage. But as soon as the rainy season cut off communication with the interior, a depression was felt, and soon an entire stagnation in all departments of business. This was not a time when the current of business could be safely checked; people had been borne to their present positions by one of the most buoyant seas; and should this pass from beneath them, the other extreme must as inevitably follow as the ebb follows the flood. This extreme was soon reached. Men found themselves with heavy stocks on hand that would not command one-half their cost. City lots that had cost them thousands, would not now command as many hundreds. Many found it impossible to pay their enormous rents, even with their gross amount of sales. A crash was inevitable, and it came; and all were buried beneath the ruins of their own structures. The elements seemed destined to complete the devastation, and on the 10th of December the city was inundated, the deluge running riot through the streets, carrying houses from their foundations, and causing the inhabitants to flee to the shipping for safety.{134}

erected and immediately occupied. A time of prosperity had been experienced like never before. People weren't just sticking to their usual business; they were investing in anything that came their way, and everything was being turned to profit. But as soon as the rainy season cut off communication with the interior, a downturn was felt, leading to a complete halt in all areas of business. This was not the time for business to be slowed down; people had been lifted to their current positions by one of the most thriving environments, and if that went away, the opposite would follow just as surely as the tide recedes after it rises. That opposite soon arrived. People found themselves with large inventories that wouldn’t sell for even half of what they had paid. City lots that had cost them thousands would now barely bring in hundreds. Many struggled to pay their huge rents, even with their total sales. A crash was unavoidable, and it happened; everyone was left buried beneath the wreckage of their own enterprises. The elements seemed determined to finish the destruction, and on December 10th, the city was flooded, with water rushing through the streets, sweeping houses off their foundations, and forcing residents to flee to the docks for safety.{134}

Chapter Twenty-third.

SAIL FOR SAN FRANCISCO—A FLEET—MUD—PROSPERITY—SHIPS AND STOREHOUSES—BUOYANT SEAS—SHOALS IN BUSINESS—REVULSION AND FIRE—THEIR CONSEQUENCES—SAIL FOR SANTA BARBARA—THE TOWN—DEXTEROUS FEAT BY A GRIZZLY BEAR—FASHIONS—SAIL FOR ST. LUCAS—PORPOISES AND SEA FOWLS, THEIR SPORTS—APPROACH THE TOWN—PECULIAR SKY—CAVERNS IN THE SEA—CACTUS—BEAUTIFUL SEA SHELLS—SAIL FOR ACAPULCO—MAGNIFICENT SCENERY—VOLCANOS AND CASCADES—VOLCANOS AT NIGHT—ETERNAL SNOW.

SAIL FOR SAN FRANCISCO—A FLEET—MUD—PROSPERITY—SHIPS AND STOREHOUSES—BUOYANT SEAS—SHOALS IN BUSINESS—REVULSION AND FIRE—THEIR CONSEQUENCES—SAIL FOR SANTA BARBARA—THE TOWN—SKILLED FEAT BY A GRIZZLY BEAR—FASHIONS—SAIL FOR ST. LUCAS—PORPOISES AND SEA BIRDS, THEIR PLAY—APPROACH THE TOWN—UNIQUE SKY—CAVES IN THE SEA—CACTUS—BEAUTIFUL SEA SHELLS—SAIL FOR ACAPULCO—STUNNING SCENERY—VOLCANOES AND WATERFALLS—VOLCANOES AT NIGHT—ETERNAL SNOW.

On the 22d November we procured tickets on the steamboat “Senator,” at $30 each, and at 8 A.M., were under way for San Francisco. We passed along down at North River speed, arriving at 5 P.M. As we passed through the bay, we were struck with the vast amount of shipping, numbering no less than five hundred sail—a fleet which, in tonnage and number of sail, was never before equalled. (See Plate.) The city had also made gigantic strides. The sand-hills had been leveled, and the city had, as it were, in a day, taken the whole of the surrounding country under its wings. Here, however, as in Sacramento City, the streets were most bountifully supplied with mud, requiring, in some cases, most dexterous movements to keep above ground.

On November 22nd, we bought tickets for the steamboat “Senator,” at $30 each, and at 8 A.M., we were on our way to San Francisco. We traveled swiftly down the North River, arriving at 5 P.M.. As we sailed through the bay, we were amazed by the huge number of ships, at least five hundred in total—a fleet that had never been matched in size or number before. (See Plate.) The city had also made incredible progress. The sand hills had been flattened, and it seemed like the city had spread out and taken over the entire surrounding area almost overnight. However, like in Sacramento City, the streets were filled with mud, requiring some clever maneuvering to stay above it.

Nothing had occurred, up to this time, to check the tide of prosperity, which had borne the citizens on, to the very acme of their ambition. Every one in trade had realized fortunes, and were still bountifully supplied with goods, some having large invoices piled outside for want of room within. Still all were ambitious to add to their stock, and were hiring money at ten per cent. a month to invest in provisions, boots, and winter clothing, all of which were commanding exorbitant prices. Chilian flour, in two hundred pound sacks, was purchased by the quantity at $40 per sack, in anticipation of a scarcity; other provisions at prices predicated upon the above. Rents were extravagantly

Nothing had happened so far to slow down the wave of prosperity that had carried the citizens to the peak of their ambitions. Everyone in business had made fortunes and were still well-stocked with goods, with some having large shipments piled outside due to a lack of space inside. Still, everyone was eager to expand their inventory and were borrowing money at ten percent a month to invest in food, boots, and winter clothing, all of which were priced incredibly high. Chilian flour came in two hundred-pound sacks and was being bought in bulk at $40 per sack, anticipating a shortage; other goods were priced based on this. Rents were ridiculously high.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. COAST OF LOWER CALIFORNIA, Showing the peculiarity of the Sky.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N.Y. COAST OF LOWER CALIFORNIA, Highlighting the uniqueness of the sky.

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high, and real estate commanding unheard-of prices. Many magnificent buildings had been erected for banking-houses, hotels, and gambling saloons, all occupied—their tenants reaping daily fortunes; gamblers seemed to be on the very top wave of prosperity, and they were about the only class of citizens who confined themselves strictly to their legitimate business. Their saloons were swarming with people, who seemed to patronize them for want of other amusement.

high, and real estate fetching unheard-of prices. Many impressive buildings had been constructed for banks, hotels, and gambling halls, all in use— their tenants making fortunes every day; gamblers appeared to be riding the crest of prosperity, and they were pretty much the only group of citizens who strictly stuck to their legitimate business. Their halls were packed with people, who seemed to frequent them out of a lack of other entertainment.

The scarcity of facilities for storing goods, had induced parties to purchase ships, which after cutting away the spars, they would head in shore, run aground, and scuttle; then connecting them to the shore by piers, and building a story on the upper deck, they were ready for occupation, being less exposed in case of fire, and more easy of access, than buildings on shore. The Niantic and Apollo, ships well known in this latitude, were thus converted, but have since, together with the city, been converted into ashes. The water-lots belonging to the city were sold at auction, and purchased by parties, who immediately commenced extensive docks, and were soon in a condition to invite vessels along side. Improvements were commenced, and matured as if by magic and no cloud was discernible in the business horizon, to dampen the ardor or cause the business man to look out for a cross sea. No one was fearful of shoals, as none were laid down in their charts; all forgetting, that, no matter how buoyant a sea, it always finds a shoal upon which to break.

The lack of facilities for storing goods led people to buy ships. They would remove the masts, beach the ships, and deliberately sink them. Then, they connected the ships to the shore with piers and built structures on the upper decks, making them ready for use. These ships were less vulnerable to fire and easier to access than buildings on land. The Niantic and Apollo, ships well-known in this area, were converted this way, but they, along with the city, have since been reduced to ashes. The city’s waterfront lots were sold at auction to various parties, who quickly began constructing large docks, making them ready to welcome vessels. Improvements began and progressed quickly, as if by magic, and there were no signs in the business landscape to dampen enthusiasm or make businesspeople wary of trouble ahead. No one was concerned about hidden dangers since none were marked on their charts, forgetting that, no matter how calm the sea seems, it always has hidden hazards to catch you off guard.

Business was transacted on a gigantic scale, and with an indomitable energy, but with a recklessness unparalleled. It must have been apparent to every one who looked upon these transactions with an eye of experience, that the least check to ruling prices must cause a revulsion that would prostrate the entire commercial interest of the country. Being entirely dependent upon the Atlantic cities for supplies, the market was liable to be overstocked at any moment; but business men did not seem to take this into consideration, but operated as if an embargo had been laid upon all shipments, and they were about to secure all the supplies that were ever to reach the shores of California. This was the foundation upon which business transactions were predicated, and, to finish the structure, money was hired at from{136} ten to twelve per cent. a month, and invested. A revulsion was inevitable, and when it came it was accompanied by a conflagration that devastated the entire city. Business was paralyzed, and firms that had been thought to be worth millions, were not only penniless, but with heavy debts hanging upon them from which there was no prospect of relief. All found themselves overwhelmed with liabilities, and with a very few exceptions, none could even make a fractional dividend in favor of their creditors. One of the most extensive firms in the city, a firm that within two short weeks had considered themselves worth five millions, now found themselves indebted to almost that amount, without a dollar in hand, and nothing in prospect by which they could even expect to make a comfortable living. The partner who established the firm, became a citizen before the gold excitement. He was in the prime of life, universally beloved for his courteous and gentlemanly bearing, and one of those chivalrous spirits who never turn their backs upon a friend or foe. He was a terror to the “hounds,” and other organizations of villainy, in San Francisco, and was the most effectual instrument in organizing the self-constituted police; this reverse of fortune, however, together with the loss of an accomplished and beloved wife, so preyed upon his spirits that he made an attempt upon his own life.

Business was conducted on a massive scale and with relentless energy, but also with unmatched recklessness. It must have been clear to anyone with experience watching these transactions that even a slight disruption in prices would trigger a collapse that could devastate the entire commercial sector of the country. Completely reliant on Atlantic cities for supplies, the market could be flooded at any moment. Yet, businesspeople didn't seem to consider this; they acted as if there was an embargo on all shipments and that they were about to grab every supply that would ever reach California. This was the foundation on which all business dealings were based, and, to complete the setup, money was borrowed at {136} ten to twelve percent a month and invested. A crash was unavoidable, and when it happened, it resulted in a fire that devastated the entire city. Business came to a standstill, and companies that were once considered worth millions were left not only broke but also burdened with heavy debts that had no chance of being cleared. Everyone was overwhelmed with liabilities, and with very few exceptions, no one could even offer a small dividend to their creditors. One of the largest firms in the city, which had thought itself worth five million just two weeks prior, now found itself nearly that amount in debt, with no money and no prospect of making a comfortable living. The partner who started the firm was a local before the gold rush. He was in the prime of life, well-liked for his courteous and gentlemanly demeanor, and one of those noble individuals who never turned their back on a friend or foe. He was a nightmare for the "hounds" and other criminal groups in San Francisco and played a key role in forming a self-appointed police force; however, this downfall, along with the loss of a beloved and talented wife, deeply affected him, leading him to attempt to take his own life.

Miners were returning to town by scores, driven in by the scarcity of provisions, owing to the impassable condition of the country, and merchants of the interior were driven from their posts by the same cause. All could not get employment in town, and but few were able to remain in idleness; the consequence was that many sailed for the Sandwich and other Pacific islands in search of labor, or in hopes of finding a less expensive place to spend the winter. Others were preparing to return home. These causes, together with the arrival of large consignments of provisions, were soon most sensibly felt. Flour was offering in the market at $25 per sack; many having heavy stocks on hand for which they had paid $40, and with money for which they were then paying ten per cent. a month. Every steamer from the interior, as well as those clearing from the port, were crowded, and passage tickets selling at a premium. Every house in town was full; comfortable accommodations

Miners were returning to town in large numbers, forced back by a lack of supplies because the roads were unusable, and merchants from the interior were also leaving their posts for the same reason. Not everyone could find work in town, and very few could afford to just sit around; as a result, many were heading to the Sandwich Islands and other Pacific islands looking for jobs or hoping to find a cheaper place to spend the winter. Others were getting ready to go home. These factors, along with the arrival of large shipments of supplies, were quickly noticeable. Flour was selling for $25 a sack in the market, while many had large stocks that they bought for $40, and they were paying ten percent interest monthly on the money they used to buy them. Every steamer coming from the interior, as well as those leaving from the port, was packed, and tickets were selling for more than usual. Every house in town was full; comfortable accommodations.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. SANTA BARBARA, UPPER CALIFORNIA.

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were out of the question. The lodging apartments were generally fitted up, like state-rooms on a ship, with two berths, i. e. a little pen or box with two shelves, for each of which shelf, with board, the charge was $25 per week, occupant permitted to furnish his own bedding.

were not an option. The rental units were typically set up like cabins on a ship, featuring two sleeping areas, meaning a small space with two shelves, for which each shelf cost $25 per week, allowing the occupant to provide their own bedding.

Dear reader, having a pressing business engagement at San Juan de Nicaragua, I will presume upon your leisure so far as to ask you to accompany me. I will give you a free passage, and return with you in thirty days, claiming your indulgence for the want of interest in the trip. You undoubtedly remember the excitement attending your advent on board the steamer, your last trip to sea—mine was similar. At 12 o’clock, M., we had the “heave ahead!” clanking of the cable, firing of cannon, and at half-past 12 passed through the “Golden Gate.” Now our steamer makes her obeisance to Neptune, who steps aside to let her pass. On leaving the outer bay, we put our wheel “hard down,” and stood away to the south, the coast range, as well as the Sierra Nevada, seeming in tears at our departure. We steam along, now raising a peak of the mountain, and now sinking it below the horizon, until the second day, when we stand in toward shore, and soon arrive in full view of Santa Barbara, presenting a fertile plain near the coast, with mountains in the background.

Dear reader, I have an important business commitment in San Juan de Nicaragua, and I would like to invite you to come along. I'll provide you with free passage and return with you in thirty days, asking for your understanding regarding the lack of excitement in this trip. You probably remember the thrill when you boarded the steamer on your last sea voyage—mine was just as exciting. At 12:00 PM, we had the “heave ahead!” sound of the cable, the firing of cannons, and at 12:30 PM, we passed through the “Golden Gate.” Now our steamer gives a nod to Neptune, who makes way for us. As we leave the outer bay, we turn the wheel “hard down” and head south, with the coastal mountains and the Sierra Nevada seeming to mourn our departure. We continue steaming, sometimes lifting a mountain peak into view and sometimes dipping it below the horizon, until the second day when we approach the shore and soon see Santa Barbara, which reveals a fertile plain by the coast, backed by mountains.

This is the point at which Col. Stevenson’s regiment was disbanded. It is a small town hardly deserving the name, and has acquired its name and importance from its mission, the mission-house being a building of great capacity, containing a collection of valuable paintings. The front makes some pretensions to architectural beauty, with two towers, each containing two bells; between the towers; is a representation of the sun, the disc being the dial of a clock. (See Plate.) There is a fountain near the church, the water being brought from the mountain in a trench, and thrown from the mouths of grizzly bears. Why the grizzly bear was chosen by the worthy “Padre” to do the ornamental part, I was unable to learn, perhaps owing to feats of dexterity performed by his bearship on certain occasions.

This is where Col. Stevenson’s regiment was disbanded. It’s a small town that hardly deserves its name, and it got its name and significance from its mission, with the mission house being a large building that holds a collection of valuable paintings. The front has some pretensions to architectural beauty, featuring two towers, each with two bells; between the towers is a depiction of the sun, where the disc serves as the dial of a clock. (See Plate.) There’s a fountain near the church, with water brought from the mountain in a trench and poured from the mouths of grizzly bears. I couldn’t find out why the grizzly bear was chosen by the esteemed “Padre” for this decorative task; perhaps it was due to some impressive tricks performed by his bearship on certain occasions.

At the time of the arrival of the California regiment, one of the Bruin family had taken up his residence on a rancho, not far distant. The natives, wishing to exhibit their dexterity,{138} offered to go and lasso Bruin, for their amusement. Now, said Bruin had been a quiet neighbor, and had taken nothing excepting the appurtenances of said rancho, and had a most religious aversion to any additional ties between himself and neighbors. When said neighbors approached and attempted to present the subject, Bruin, as dignified people will do, stood up and looked them in the face. Six lassos were simultaneously thrown. He caught three of them, and, hand over hand, hauled the horses in, and with one stroke took off from one of them his entire haunch. The rider’s cut their lassos, and, without bidding his bearship good-day, took the longest kind of steps toward the mission-house. Bruin is now supposed to be in his dotage, still he is said to relate this occurrence to his family circle with the greatest satisfaction.

At the time the California regiment arrived, a member of the Bruin family was living on a rancho not far away. The locals, wanting to show off their skills, {138} offered to try and lasso Bruin for fun. Now, Bruin had been a quiet neighbor and hadn’t taken anything except what belonged to the rancho, and he had a strong dislike for any extra ties with his neighbors. When the neighbors approached him to bring up the idea, Bruin, as dignified people tend to do, stood up and looked them in the eye. Six lassos were thrown at once. He caught three of them and, hand over hand, pulled the horses in, and with one quick move, took off one of their entire haunches. The riders cut their lassos and, without saying goodbye to Bruin, quickly made their way toward the mission house. Bruin is now thought to be getting older, but he still enjoys telling this story to his family with great satisfaction.

Those interested in the prevailing fashions, are referred to the accompanying Plate. Ladies’ hats are dispensed with; a scarf or parasol is used instead. Gentlemen wear white pants, over which is a pair of black velvet, open at the sides of the leg, the edges trimmed with bell-buttons. A short jacket of the same is also worn, trimmed with bell-buttons over which is thrown a serapa or poncho. A heavy sombrero, with a black glazed covering, is worn on the head; this is trimmed with brass ornaments, and a band with long ties serving as a streamer. In passing down from Santa Barbara the scenery is fine; a belt of fertile land stretching along the coast with mountains in the back ground.

Those interested in the current trends can refer to the accompanying Plate. Ladies have ditched hats and use a scarf or parasol instead. Men wear white pants with a pair of black velvet ones on top, open at the sides of the legs, with edges trimmed with bell buttons. They also wear a short jacket made of the same fabric, which is trimmed with bell buttons and worn over a serapa or poncho. A heavy sombrero with a black glossy finish sits atop their heads; this hat is decorated with brass ornaments and a band with long ties acting as a streamer. The scenery is beautiful when traveling down from Santa Barbara, featuring a strip of fertile land along the coast with mountains in the background.

After taking on board several passengers, a few head of cattle, and a small supply of vegetables, we again weigh anchor and stand out to sea; the weather is delightful, the sea rolls sluggishly, and our steamer speeds her way through the waters like a thing of life; now rushing through a school of porpoises, and now a school of flying-fish are driven from their element; now a whale throws a column of spray into the air; the sea-gulls collect around but soon disperse and flit along “gaily over the sea;” the albatrosses are floating about lazily; while Mother Carey’s chickens display as much spirit as if the old lady had just let them from the coop.

After picking up several passengers, a few heads of cattle, and a small supply of vegetables, we set out to sea again; the weather is beautiful, the sea rolls gently, and our steamer glides through the water like a living creature; now speeding through a group of porpoises, and now a school of flying fish is startled from their home; then a whale sprays a column of water into the air; seagulls gather around but quickly disperse, fluttering "cheerfully over the sea;" albatrosses drift lazily; while Mother Carey's chickens show as much energy as if the old lady had just let them out of the coop.

As we approached St. Lucas we noticed that peculiarity of the sky for which the Pacific coast is celebrated. (See Plate.)

As we got closer to St. Lucas, we noticed the unique quality of the sky that the Pacific coast is famous for. (See Plate.)

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The sun throws a ray of light through, the mottled sky; the sea rolls sluggishly; porpoises are sporting about, now throwing themselves into the air, and now rushing into schools of flying-fish which are frightened from their element and pursued by the albatross. As we approach still nearer, immense rocks tower up from the margin of the ocean, some rising to the height of one hundred feet, some being columns of granite, presenting an appearance as uniform as if cut by the hand of man. (See Plate.) Here are seen huge rocks with arches worn through at the base by the action of the sea, sufficiently large to admit large row boats. The billows come dashing and thundering into these caverns, then recoil, chafing and foaming with the most terrific fury.

The sun beams down through the spotted sky; the sea rolls lazily; porpoises are playing around, jumping into the air and diving into schools of flying fish, which are startled from the water and chased by the albatross. As we get closer, massive rocks rise up from the edge of the ocean, some reaching a height of one hundred feet, others standing like columns of granite, looking as smooth as if shaped by human hands. (See Plate.) Here we see enormous rocks with arches worn through at the base by the sea, big enough for large rowboats to pass through. The waves crash and roar into these caverns, then pull back, churning and foaming with incredible intensity.

Here the sea rolls high, but with such uniformity that when breaking upon the shore the air is caught underneath, which bursting through throws up columns of spray. Three coyotas, members of the California Harmonic Society, are seen on the beach; they appear to be at rehearsal. Along the shore are huge cacti, growing to the height of thirty feet, being sufficiently large, and frequently used for building timber.

Here, the sea rolls high, but so uniformly that when it crashes onto the shore, the air gets trapped underneath, bursting out and creating columns of spray. Three coyotas, members of the California Harmonic Society, are spotted on the beach; they seem to be rehearsing. Along the shore, there are huge cacti that grow up to thirty feet tall, large enough to be commonly used as building timber.

St. Lucas, like Santa Barbara, is hardly deserving the name of a town, containing but thirteen houses, which are constructed of adobes and cactus. The only peculiarity is that the natives speak the English Language. The surrounding country is extremely barren, producing but just enough to sustain the inhabitants; vessels touch here for water, which is superior, and beef, which is obtained back of the mountain. This town is situated at the outer point of the entrance to the Gulf of California. The time is probably not far distant when the river Gila will be navigated by steam, and the fertile plains bordering on its banks, and those of its tributaries, be brought into subjection to the plow, when this vast empire must disgorge its unbounded resources through the Gulf of California, and dispense its agricultural and mineral wealth to all parts of the civilized world. I say the time is probably not far distant; it is at hand; it is in the nature of things, that the Gila country within ten years will be a State in the Union. Then St. Lucas may become a city, and many others of great commercial importance will{140} spring up along the shore of the Gulf of California, and at the mouth of the Gila will be one of the marts of the Pacific.

St. Lucas, like Santa Barbara, barely qualifies as a town, consisting of only thirteen houses made of adobe and cactus. The unique thing is that the locals speak English. The surrounding land is quite barren, producing just enough to keep the residents alive; ships stop here for water, which is excellent, and beef, which is sourced from behind the mountain. This town is located at the outer point of the entrance to the Gulf of California. It’s likely that it won’t be long before the Gila River is navigated by steam, and the fertile lands along its banks and its tributaries become cultivated, allowing this vast region to unleash its abundant resources through the Gulf of California, sharing its agricultural and mineral wealth with the civilized world. I believe the time is probably near; it’s already on the horizon. It’s only natural that the Gila area will become a State in the Union within ten years. Then St. Lucas might grow into a city, and many other significant commercial centers will{140} emerge along the Gulf of California, with one of the commerce hubs at the mouth of the Gila.

Our next point is Acapulco, distant about six hundred miles; this part of the route presents some of the finest scenery on the Pacific coast, and perhaps the most imposing in the world. It is a succession of volcanos, including Popocatapetl, the most elevated volcano in Mexico; this towers up through masses of clouds, appearing shrouded in gloom at its base, but rears its head in majestic triumph, offering its light to the stars.

Our next stop is Acapulco, located about six hundred miles away. This section of the route offers some of the most beautiful views on the Pacific coast, and perhaps the most impressive in the world. It features a series of volcanoes, including Popocatépetl, the highest volcano in Mexico. It rises dramatically through the clouds, appearing dark and gloomy at its base, but reaches up in majestic triumph, sharing its light with the stars.

Each of these volcanos presents some different features; from the craters of some the smoke issues with as much regularity as from a chimney; others are enveloped in smoke; some seem to have almost subdued the internal fires; the emission of smoke being almost imperceptible. The most striking phenomenon was exhibited by one of great elevation, rearing its head above the surrounding mountains, at some distance from the coast; it would belch forth a cloud of smoke, which for a moment would seem a huge ball suspended over the crater; this would soon commence to assume a different form, the lighter parts of the smoke ascending and expanding, while the more weighty would settle—elongating the cloud—giving it the appearance of a huge pine tree. This would float away on the atmosphere, and after an interval of half an hour, would be followed by its successor. The regularity of these manifestations was most astonishing; the volcano seemed to have entered into a contract with the atmosphere to furnish it with a cloud every half hour.

Each of these volcanoes has unique features; some have craters that emit smoke as regularly as a chimney, while others are shrouded in smoke. Some appear to have almost tamed their internal fires, with smoke emissions that are barely noticeable. The most impressive sight was from one particularly tall volcano that towered above the surrounding mountains, located some distance from the coast. It would suddenly release a cloud of smoke that resembled a massive ball hovering over the crater. This cloud would soon start to change shape, with the lighter parts of the smoke rising and expanding while the heavier portions would settle, stretching the cloud and giving it the look of a giant pine tree. This would drift away in the air, and after about thirty minutes, a new cloud would follow. The regularity of these events was astonishing; it seemed as if the volcano had made an agreement with the atmosphere to produce a cloud every half hour.

The mountains, in the background tower up, one above another, until the last loses itself in the blue of heaven. These seemed undergoing a constant change; now a cloud throws a deep cavern-like shade here, and now the sun chases it away, and shows us a vale watered by a mountain stream and teeming with the choicest plants of nature; now we see in the distant blue what appears a gigantic marble column; we look through a glass and it proves a cascade breaking from the crest of a mountain; now we see a mountain rearing its head into the very clouds, and shrouded in eternal snow, this reflecting the rays of the sun, appears the dome of some vast structure. Although volcanos are grand and impressive by day, nothing

The mountains rise in the background, one after another, until the last one disappears into the blue sky. They seem to change constantly; sometimes a cloud casts a dark, cave-like shadow here, and then the sun chases it away, revealing a valley filled with a mountain stream and full of nature's finest plants. At times we spot what looks like a massive marble column in the distant blue; through binoculars, it turns out to be a waterfall tumbling from a mountain peak. Then we see a mountain stretching into the clouds, covered in perpetual snow, which, reflecting the sun's rays, resembles the dome of a huge building. While volcanoes are grand and impressive during the day, nothing

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will compare with their sublimity at night; their crests are surrounded by a halo of light, the smoke, illumined, crawls sluggishly out, and now are seen issuing balls and streams of liquid fire, accompanied by a most terrific shock, as if the furies were at war within; now a dark cloud floats sluggishly along, but now it is looking directly into the crater, and is burnished by the internal fires.{142}

will compare with their beauty at night; their peaks are surrounded by a glow, the smoke, lit up, drifts slowly out, and now you can see balls and streams of molten fire emerging, accompanied by a terrifying blast, as if chaos were raging inside; now a dark cloud floats lazily along, but now it is staring directly into the crater, and is polished by the internal flames.{142}

Chapter Twenty-fourth.

ACAPULCO—THE TREE OF LOVE—BATHING AND FEMALES—A CALIFORNIAN IN A TIGHT PLACE—EARTHQUAKES—SAIL FOR REALEJO—VOLCANO VIEJO—ITS DEVASTATING ERUPTION—REALEJO AND HARBOR—A CART AND ITS PASSENGERS—A WALL-STREET FINANCIER FLEECED—CHINANDEGA—ITS BEAUTIFUL ARBORS—BATHING—PREPARING TORTILLOS—LEON—ITS MAGNIFICENCE AND DESOLATION—DON PEDRO VACA AND FAMILY.

ACAPULCO—THE TREE OF LOVE—SWIMMING AND WOMEN—A CALIFORNIAN IN A TOUGH SPOT—EARTHQUAKES—DEPART FOR REALEJO—VOLCANO VIEJO—ITS DEVASTATING ERUPTION—REALEJO AND THE HARBOR—A CART AND ITS PASSENGERS—A WALL STREET FINANCIER RIPPED OFF—CHINANDEGA—ITS BEAUTIFUL GARDENS—SWIMMING—MAKING TORTILLAS—LEON—ITS GRANDEUR AND RUIN—DON PEDRO VACA AND FAMILY.

As we approach Acapulco, the most striking feature is the telegraph, which is erected on one of the highest peaks of the mountain, and from which, at the approach of a steamer, a blue flag is displayed, or a white one at the approach of a sailing vessel. The town is completely land-locked, there being not the slightest indication of it until passing around the bluff into the inner bay, when the castle is seen directly in our course, and passing on, bearing to the left, the town is seen stretching away up the side of the mountain. The bay has the appearance of a lake being entirely shut in by mountains. Our steamer passed on to within fifteen or twenty rods of the town when we dropped anchor and were immediately boarded by the officer of the port, also by innumerable men and boys for passengers, and females with fruit. Passengers are taken into bungoes, or canoes, which are headed in until the bow strikes the shore, when they take their stand preparatory to a jump as the sea runs back. (See Plate.) Not unfrequently they are overtaken by the next sea, which is extremely embarrassing, particularly if one has just changed his linen. We entered the town at the foot of the main street; two churches are seen, each supporting a tower, the custom-house being in the foreground at the left. The buildings are of one story, constructed of stone or adobes, and covered with tile. This is one of the most beautifully located towns on the Pacific coast. It is never visited by

As we get closer to Acapulco, the most noticeable feature is the telegraph, which is set up on one of the highest mountain peaks. When a steamer approaches, a blue flag is raised, and a white flag is raised when a sailing vessel comes near. The town is completely landlocked, with no sign of it until we round the bluff into the inner bay; then, we see the castle directly in our path, and as we continue on, the town is stretched up the mountain to our left. The bay looks like a lake, fully surrounded by mountains. Our steamer got within fifteen or twenty rods of the town before we dropped anchor, and right away, the port officer boarded us, along with countless men and boys offering rides, and women selling fruit. Passengers are taken into bent boughs, or canoes, which are steered in until the front hits the shore, where they get ready to jump as the water pulls back. (See Plate.) Often, they get caught by the next wave, which can be really awkward, especially if someone just changed their clothes. We entered the town at the bottom of the main street; we could see two churches, each with a tower, and the customs house in the foreground to the left. The buildings are one story high, made of stone or adobes, and covered in tile. This is one of the most beautifully situated towns on the Pacific coast. It is never visited by

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blighting winds but is shut in by mountains, watered by mountain rivulets, and supplied with all the tropical fruits, which grow here spontaneously, and in the greatest abundance. It reminds one of the “happy valley” of “Rasselas.” Along the margin of the bay are trees of peculiar shape called the “amata,” or tree of love, the form of the top resembling an umbrella, under which hammocks are slung—and people enjoy their siestas. (See Plate). The castle is a work of some strength mounting several brass pieces of heavy calibre; it is however much neglected, being garrisoned only by a few barefooted soldiers. Just back of the town is a stream of the purest water from springs on the mountain side; this is the bathing place of the inhabitants, and a more inviting one could not be imagined; the stream is so limpid, and of such a congenial temperature, that one feels that he could repose in its bosom forever. In taking a bath it was difficult to rid ourself of the presence of a half dozen señoritas who would come to the bank, towel in hand, offering to prepare you for your clothes, for the moderate sum of sixpence. They were all beautiful, but I preferred seeing them under other circumstances. This want of modesty, as it will be termed, is a characteristic of Spanish America, and although it may show a want of refined delicacy according to the frigid laws of the States, they are entirely unconscious of impropriety.

blighting winds but is surrounded by mountains, fed by mountain streams, and full of all the tropical fruits that grow here naturally and in great abundance. It reminds one of the “happy valley” from “Rasselas.” Along the edge of the bay are uniquely shaped trees called the “amata,” or tree of love, with tops resembling umbrellas, beneath which hammocks are hung—and people enjoy their siestas. (See Plate). The castle is a stronghold equipped with several heavy brass cannons; however, it is much neglected, guarded only by a few barefooted soldiers. Just behind the town is a stream of the purest water from mountain springs; this is the bathing spot for the locals, and it's hard to imagine a more inviting one; the water is so clear and at such a pleasant temperature that you feel you could relax in its embrace forever. While taking a bath, it was hard to ignore the presence of a half dozen young women who would come to the bank with towels, offering to help you get dressed for a small fee of sixpence. They were all beautiful, but I preferred seeing them under different circumstances. This lack of modesty, as it might be called, is characteristic of Spanish America, and even though it may reflect a lack of refined delicacy according to the strict standards of the States, they are completely unaware of any impropriety.

The females here are celebrated for their beauty, finely developed forms, and graceful bearing, as well as for their vivacity and winning pathos in conversation. They possess many peerless traits of character, and manifest a devoted attachment to their parents and offspring. The full dress of a lady consists of a white chemise, a colored skirt flounced at the bottom, and a scarf which serves alternately as a shawl and bonnet.

The women here are admired for their beauty, well-proportioned figures, and elegant demeanor, along with their liveliness and charming emotional depth in conversation. They have many unique personality traits and show a strong devotion to their parents and children. A woman's formal outfit includes a white blouse, a colorful skirt with a ruffled hem, and a scarf that can be used as both a shawl and a head covering.

The market is well supplied with every variety of fruit and cakes, and beef by the yard. The stands are mostly attended by females. The first salutation upon entering the market-place is from the little girls, who hail you with, “Say, Americano! lemonade, picayune?” holding up to you a plate containing a glass of lemonade, as will be seen by the accompanying Plate. At the left, in the foreground, is seen a Señora making love to an hombre who looks from underneath his huge sombrero, and seems{144} to hold the tighter, his lemon basket and jug. Then there is little Niña with her picayune-lemonade, and Muchacho with his hat on his head, inverted, and filled with lemons. He was requested to stand for this drawing, and looked the very personation of a corn-field effigy. Then there is Señora, the second, standing demurely, supporting on her head, a basket of shells. Then comes one of the “immortal garrison;” he supports a high plume and long cigar. There is something extremely martial in his attitude, although he appears lame in one foot. Just behind this soldier, is a group of three; the man is a Californian; he was brought ashore by the boy, but does not seem anxious to pay his fare. The boy has his hand full of stones, by which he designs to convince the man that he had better pay. During the parley, a female runs out, and recognizing the man as having got his dinner of her without paying for it, she says, “Ah! you thought I wouldn’t know you, but I do know you.” This was coming too thick for the man, and, giving a kind of “b’hoy” bend of the knee, he runs both hands into his pockets, with a “well, I guess if I owe you anything, I can p-a-y.” The range of buildings at the right are eating and drinking saloons. An officer is seen galloping across the plaza, with a sentinel at the left. Back of the town, an opening is cut through the mountain, presenting a very striking appearance, and is said to have been done by the Spaniards to give the town a circulation of air. Acapulco contains 3,000 inhabitants, many of whom are the native Indian race. It is somewhat subject to earthquakes, there being at present several ruins of buildings, including one church, that were prostrated a few years since.

The market is well stocked with all kinds of fruits and cakes, and plenty of beef. Most of the stalls are run by women. As you enter the marketplace, the first greeting comes from little girls who shout, “Hey, Americano! Lemonade, picayune?” while holding up a plate with a glass of lemonade, as shown in the accompanying image. In the foreground to the left, you can see a lady flirting with a man who peeks out from beneath his large hat, and it looks like he’s holding onto his lemon basket and jug a little tighter. Then there's little Niña with her picayune lemonade, and Muchacho, whose hat is upside down and filled with lemons. He was asked to pose for this drawing and resembles a scarecrow from a cornfield. Next to him is another lady, standing modestly with a basket of shells balanced on her head. A man from the “immortal garrison” follows, sporting a tall plume and a long cigar. He has a very soldierly stance, despite appearing to limp on one foot. Just behind this soldier is a group of three; the man is a Californian who was brought ashore by a boy, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pay his fare. The boy holds a handful of stones, intending to persuade the man to settle up. During their discussion, a woman rushes out and, recognizing the man as someone who had his dinner without paying, says, “Oh! You thought I wouldn’t recognize you, but I do.” This puts the man in a tough spot, and with a sort of half-hearted bow, he dives both hands into his pockets, saying, “Well, I guess if I owe you anything, I can p-a-y.” On the right side, the range of buildings consists of restaurants and bars. An officer can be seen riding across the plaza, with a sentry on the left. Behind the town, there’s a passage cut through the mountain that looks quite striking and is said to have been made by the Spaniards to improve airflow in the town. Acapulco has a population of 3,000, many of whom are native Indians. The area is somewhat prone to earthquakes, and there are currently several ruins of buildings, including a church, that collapsed a few years ago.

In passing down from Acapulco to Realejo, there is a continuation of the same magnificent scenery, and as you near the harbor, you see towering up from the Cordilleras, Viejo, the most elevated volcano in Central America. (See Plate.) It is seen rearing its head above the clouds, and belching forth a column of smoke. This volcano, for many years, ceased to burn; but a few years since, the whole of the surrounding country became agitated; the air was filled for several days, with smoke so dense and black, that it entirely obscured the sun, rendering it dark as night. The inhabitants were appalled with terror, some fled the country, others collected their families and shut themselves up

In traveling from Acapulco to Realejo, you encounter the same stunning scenery, and as you get closer to the harbor, you see Viejo, the tallest volcano in Central America, rising up from the Cordilleras. (See Plate.) It towers above the clouds, spewing a column of smoke. This volcano hadn't erupted for many years, but a few years ago, the entire surrounding area became restless; the air was filled for days with thick, black smoke that completely blocked out the sun, making it as dark as night. The locals were filled with fear; some fled the area, while others gathered their families and locked themselves indoors.

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in their houses, or assembled en masse in the churches; beasts were seen near the habitations crouching with fear, and wild fowls were heard shrieking through the air. On the night of the third day, the country underwent another frightful convulsion, followed by a terrific explosion, when this volcano vomited forth a deluge of liquid fire, which swept down its sides, carrying devastation in its track. At this eruption, so great was the quantity of lava thrown out that part of the summit, near the crater, was carried away, as will be seen by the accompanying plate.

in their homes, or gathered en masse in the churches; animals were seen hiding in fear near the dwellings, and wild birds could be heard screeching through the air. On the night of the third day, the country experienced another terrifying tremor, followed by a massive explosion, as this volcano erupted with a torrent of molten lava, which rushed down its slopes, leaving destruction in its path. During this eruption, so much lava was ejected that part of the summit, close to the crater, was blown away, as shown in the accompanying plate.

Realejo has a fine harbor, being situated on an arm of the ocean. As you pass in, passing an island at the entrance, you find yourself in a bay of sufficient capacity to accommodate the navies of the world. Our steamer passed up three miles to a dock which was being constructed by Howard and Son, and to which we made fast. This is one of the coal depots for the line, and preparations were making to construct suitable buildings. After landing our baggage, we engaged “bungoes” to convey us to Realejo, three miles distant, and as we passed along up, we found the margin of the bay low and swampy, and, in some places, as will be seen at the right, above the dock, forests of mango-trees growing up from the water. Several rivers put in at the head of the bay, their banks low and swampy, presenting a very unhealthy appearance.

Realejo has a great harbor located on an arm of the ocean. As you enter, passing by an island at the entrance, you find yourself in a bay large enough to hold the navies of the world. Our steamer traveled three miles to a dock that was being built by Howard and Son, where we secured our vessel. This dock serves as one of the coal depots for the line, and they were preparing to build appropriate facilities. After unloading our luggage, we hired “bungoes” to take us to Realejo, which is three miles away. As we made our way there, we noticed that the shoreline of the bay was low and swampy, and in some areas, as you can see on the right above the dock, there were forests of mango trees growing out of the water. Several rivers flow into the head of the bay, with low, swampy banks that looked quite unhealthy.

Realejo is a town of 400 inhabitants. The houses are one story, built of adobes, and covered with tile. There are several churches in ruins, and one much dilapidated, but still used; the natives are the most squalid I saw in Central America, and everything is done on that behind-the-age principle that characterizes Spanish America.

Realejo is a town with 400 residents. The houses are one story tall, made of adobes, and topped with tiles. There are a few dilapidated churches, and one that's in bad shape but still in use; the locals are the most impoverished I saw in Central America, and everything operates on that outdated principle that defines Spanish America.

At the left, in the accompanying Plate, will be seen a cart, drawn by two yoke of oxen, and lashed to their horns are sticks, four feet in length, which fall against their foreheads, and by which they draw. The cart-wheels are made by sawing two cuts from a log, and boring holes through at the heart; a pole is run through, with a linch-pin hole in each end. A rude frame of reed or cane is put on to keep the wheels from running together, and as this is covered with raw hides, it serves as a protection to the passengers in case of rain. When all are{146} ready, the driver mounts the tongue, with a long pole, prepared to “stir up the animals;” he gives the inimitable whoop, and they are under way. When he wants them to bear to the left, he applies the end of the pole to the right-hand leader, shoves him out, and they come to, and vice versa. On the road there is always in attendance a little boy, whose duty it is to “grease the wheels.” He is supplied with a quantity of green bark, and when the wheels creak he applies a piece; it winds around the axle, and seems to ease the pain. This, to a person accustomed to an easy carriage, would seem an uncomfortable mode of performing a journey; yet, dear reader, in this same cart, at this particular time, there is a gentleman and lady, well-known in New York circles, on their way to Nicaragua, en route to the United States. They are seated on their trunks, in a recumbent attitude, with heads uncovered, each drop of the wheel seeming to give rise to new phrenological developments.

On the left, in the accompanying image, you can see a cart being pulled by two teams of oxen. Sticks about four feet long are tied to their horns and rest against their foreheads, helping them pull the cart. The cart's wheels are made by cutting two sections from a log and boring holes through the center; a pole is inserted with a linchpin hole on each end. A basic frame made of reeds or cane is added to prevent the wheels from coming together, and since this is covered with raw hides, it also protects the passengers from rain. When everything is{146} ready, the driver climbs onto the front with a long pole to "encourage the animals;" he lets out a unique shout, and they're off. To steer left, he pushes the right-hand ox out with the pole, and they turn accordingly. A young boy is always there on the road to "grease the wheels." He has some green bark, and when the wheels squeak, he wraps a piece around the axle to help reduce the noise. For someone used to a comfortable ride, this might seem like a tough way to travel; however, dear reader, in this very cart right now, there's a gentleman and lady, well-known in New York, on their way to Nicaragua, en route to the United States. They're sitting on their trunks, leaning back, with their heads uncovered, and every bump of the wheel seems to trigger new thoughts.

There is a spacious hotel now being built here, and there is a prospect that the town will become Americanized. We were obliged to take lodgings at a private house. We lived on chickens, eggs, and carna, or beef dried in strings, and sold by the yard. At night we slung ourselves up in hammocks, at the mercy of the mosquitos. After a detention of two days, we succeeded in hiring passage, in carts, for Chinandega. Our driver was anxious to start at an early hour, and hitched his oxen to the cart at 2 P.M. We seated ourselves on trunks, inside, and were soon under way.

There’s a large hotel being built here now, and there’s a chance the town will become more Americanized. We had to find a place to stay in a private home. We ate chickens, eggs, and carna, which is dried beef sold by the yard. At night, we hung up hammocks and dealt with the mosquitoes. After being stuck for two days, we finally managed to hire a ride in carts to Chinandega. Our driver was eager to leave early, so he hitched his oxen to the cart at 2 P.M. We found seats on our trunks inside and soon hit the road.

Nothing could have been more ludicrous than the appearance of the passengers, as each had assumed a peculiar attitude. Here sat a lank doctor of six feet three, his feet hanging out at the fore-end of the cart, his legs and body being warped up along the side of the covering, his head sticking out behind. On the other side, seated flat in the bottom, was a man very nearly as tall, but not half so amiable, who had somewhat the appearance of a clothes-rack unshipped, and seemed to think this a suitable occasion for the use of hard words. He was under oath all day, and swore himself to sleep at night. Soon after starting, our driver, with the greatest precision, brought up against a rock, which not only caused a great mortality

Nothing could have looked more ridiculous than the passengers, each striking a strange pose. There sat a lanky doctor, six feet three inches tall, with his feet dangling off the front of the cart, his legs and body twisted up along the side of the cover, and his head sticking out at the back. On the other side, flat at the bottom, was a man nearly as tall but not nearly as friendly, resembling an unassembled clothes rack, who seemed to think this was the perfect time for big words. He was under oath all day and talked himself to sleep at night. Shortly after we started, our driver, with great precision, crashed into a rock, which not only caused significant damage

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among the hats inside, but broke our axle. Our driver hacked down a sapling with his matchet, and soon had a new one, and was again under way.

among the hats inside, but broke our axle. Our driver chopped down a sapling with his machete, and soon had a new one, and was back on the road.

Our driver was a decided genius in his way, and with a suitable pair of pantaloons, and a clean shirt, would have done honor to Wall-street. He would hide his oxen every opportunity, and then throw a native boy in our way, who would offer to find them for $5. I need not add that the reward was divided between them. One transaction of this kind we thought quite sufficient; and in his subsequent financial transactions he was not so successful, as the sequel will show. His entire wardrobe was a shirt, which he carried in his hat. Our muchacho, who attended to the wheels, was much less encumbered. We gave him a shirt, which he very judiciously rolled up and tied around his neck; I say judiciously, for when he arrived at Chinandega he had a clean shirt to put on.

Our driver was definitely a genius in his own way, and with a nice pair of pants and a clean shirt, he would have fit right in on Wall Street. He would hide his oxen whenever he could, and then send a local boy our way, who would offer to find them for $5. I shouldn’t mention that the reward was split between them. We thought one deal like that was enough; and in his later money-making attempts, he wasn’t as lucky, as you’ll see. His whole wardrobe consisted of a shirt that he carried in his hat. Our muchacho, who took care of the wheels, was a lot less burdened. We gave him a shirt, which he very wisely rolled up and tied around his neck; I say wisely because when he got to Chinandega, he had a clean shirt to put on.

The country from Realejo to Chinandega, is a continuous mud-hole, and, together with the intense heat and our wretched conveyance, made our sufferings intolerable. The distance was but seven miles, still as night overtook us, and our team gave out, we were obliged to encamp before reaching the town. In the morning, our driver went out in search of the team, but soon returned, pronouncing them unfindable. This was most vexatious. We were almost in sight of Chinandega, but with the prospect of being detained for hours. Our driver was accompanied by a worthy, of about his own age and personal appearance. We sent our driver out again in search, but his companion remained. After loitering for half an hour, he proposed going out in search of the team, thought he could find them for five dollars; we, as if wishing to drive the best bargain we could, asked him if he could not find them for less; he came down to four, three, two, and one dollar, and finally to twenty-five cents. We took him, tied his hands behind him, then tied him to a tree; we then cut a half-dozen good sized saplings, designing to “put him through a course of sprouts.” He was almost frantic, and seemed to look upon this as a crisis in his affairs. We asked him where the oxen were, he said, “just over the hill;” we asked him if our driver knew it, he said, “Si, Señor.” We told him to call him, and in a moment he was at hand. He looked with{148} apparent concern at the situation of his companion, and endeavored to keep beyond the orbit of our saplings. We ordered him to back up to a tree, he fell on his knees and said he would find the team in “una momento,” and in a moment they were at the tongue of our cart; we now demanded his half of the five dollars already extorted, which he immediately paid over, and seemed to breathe more freely. We now released his companion, in part, in order to give him an opportunity to escape, which we saw he was anxious to do. He improved the golden moment, for as we were making certain demonstrations with our saplings he made one tremendous leap and disappeared in the chaparrals. We were soon at Chinandega, and did not forget to deduct the other two dollars and a half from our freight bill.

The area from Realejo to Chinandega was one big muddy mess, and along with the sweltering heat and our terrible transportation, our suffering was unbearable. The distance was only seven miles, but as night fell and our team gave up, we had to set up camp before reaching the town. In the morning, our driver went out to look for the team but came back quickly, saying they were unfindable. This was really frustrating. We could almost see Chinandega, but we were looking at hours of delay. Our driver was joined by another guy who looked a lot like him in age and appearance. We sent our driver out again to search, while his companion stayed back. After hanging around for half an hour, he suggested going to find the team himself, claiming he could do it for five dollars; we, wanting to negotiate the best rate, asked if he could do it for less. He went down to four, three, two, and one dollar, finally agreeing to twenty-five cents. We took him, tied his hands behind him, and then secured him to a tree; we then cut a half-dozen sturdy saplings, planning to “put him through a course of sprouts.” He was nearly frantic, perceiving this as a big problem for him. We asked where the oxen were, and he said, “just over the hill;” we asked if our driver knew that, and he said, “Si, Señor.” We told him to call our driver, and soon he arrived. He looked at his companion with obvious concern and tried to stay out of the way of our saplings. We ordered him to back up to a tree, and he dropped to his knees, begging to find the team in “una momento,” and in no time, they were at the tongue of our cart; we then demanded his share of the five dollars we had already extorted, which he promptly paid, appearing to breathe a sigh of relief. We released his companion partially to give him a chance to escape, which he was clearly eager to do. Seizing the moment, while we were making some gestures with our saplings, he leaped dramatically and vanished into the brush. We soon arrived at Chinandega, and we didn’t forget to deduct the other two dollars and fifty cents from our freight bill.

Chinandega is a beautiful town, well laid out, the streets running at right angles, and built upon compactly. In the suburbs, the streets are walled up, with the fluted cactus, with an occasional opening through which you enter into ornamented groves and arbors. Nothing can exceed the beauty and luxury of these retreats. Fruits of the most delicious flavor grow spontaneously, every vine blooms, and the air laden with incense, breathes through, whispering gently to the foliage; here are also innumerable tropical birds, lending their notes and plumage to the scene. This town is celebrated for its beautiful women, and never did I look upon such specimens of female grace and loveliness. Their eyes were dark and lustrous, and their countenances, like their native clime, always beaming with sunshine. The town numbers several churches and convents of great extent, one of the former being surmounted by a spacious dome and spire, (see Plate,) and furnished with an organ and valuable scriptural paintings. Near the town is a stream and pool, the favorite bathing-places of the inhabitants. (See Plate.) In the pool are seen both sexes, the Señoritas displaying their graceful forms, without the least reserve or sense of impropriety. Water is obtained here for the use of the town; bathers fill the earthen jars, when the Señoritas place them upon their heads and walk gracefully away. Here are seen a party of females preparing corn for “tortillos;” they boil it in water into which is thrown a handful of ashes; it is then put into a basket and the hull removed, by getting in with their feet; it is then washed, dried,

Chinandega is a lovely town, well organized, with streets that run at right angles and are built closely together. In the suburbs, the streets are lined with fluted cacti, with occasional openings leading into decorated groves and arbors. Nothing can match the beauty and luxury of these hideaways. Fruits with the most delicious flavors grow freely, every vine blossoms, and the air filled with fragrance gently whispers through the leaves; there are also countless tropical birds, adding their songs and colors to the scene. This town is known for its beautiful women, and I have never seen such examples of female grace and beauty. Their eyes were dark and shining, and their faces, like their homeland, always radiated warmth. The town has several large churches and convents, one of which is topped by a large dome and spire, (see Plate,) and is equipped with an organ and valuable religious paintings. Close to the town is a stream and pool, popular bathing spots for the locals. (See Plate.) In the pool, both men and women can be seen, with the young ladies showcasing their graceful figures without any sense of modesty or shame. Water is sourced here for the town; bathers fill clay jars, which the young women then carry on their heads as they walk away elegantly. In one area, a group of women is preparing corn for "tortillas;" they boil it in water with a handful of ashes; then it goes into a basket where they remove the husk by stepping in, and then it is washed and dried,

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. CHURCH IN SHINANDAGUA.

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and parched, placed upon a flat stone, and with another stone ground to a flour.

and dry, placed on a flat stone, and ground into flour with another stone.

I engaged a cart to take myself and baggage to Grenada, but after waiting one day, with no prospect of starting, I purchased a horse, and engaged passage for my trunk in a cart that was about to start, and was soon under way. We passed through Chichigalpa, Poselagua, &c., small towns, and at night, put up at a miserable rancho, with the prospect of a poor supper, and poorer lodgings. We had traveled, during the day, through a level, densely timbered country, the road having been a continuous mud-hole, in many places almost impassable; I stretched myself out on a bench, half my length, and after paying court to Morpheus for an hour, fell into his arms. The next morning, at ten, we arrived at Leon, the capital of Nicaragua; we had not breakfasted, consequently this was our first care, after which we took a survey of the town.

I hired a cart to take me and my luggage to Grenada, but after waiting a day with no chance of leaving, I bought a horse and arranged for my trunk to be transported in a cart that was about to leave, and we were soon on our way. We passed through Chichigalpa, Poselagua, and other small towns, and at night, we stayed at a rundown rancho, expecting a mediocre dinner and even worse sleeping conditions. During the day, we traveled through a flat, heavily forested area, and the road was a series of mud-filled holes, making it nearly impassable in many spots. I lay down on a bench, stretched out halfway, and after trying to fall asleep for an hour, I finally dozed off. The next morning, at ten, we reached León, the capital of Nicaragua; we hadn't had breakfast, so that was our first priority, after which we explored the town.

This is a place of much importance, being the home of the aristocracy and talent of the country. It is ornamented with public buildings, churches, and convents which, for extent and magnificence, are not equalled in the country. The plaza is spacious, and surrounded by public buildings, elaborately ornamented with stucco, all indicating the work of a master-hand. My first impressions were of the most pleasing character, but upon extending my walk, a feeling of sadness insensibly stole upon me. Here, too, amidst the beauties, I might say the perfections of nature, here in this almost celestial atmosphere, is found the impress of those sanguinary revolutions, with which this doomed country has been laid waste. One half the town is in ruins. Palaces that were once the scene of regal banquets, are now roofless, and tenanted only by loathsome reptiles. Here, are figures, representing Liberty and Peace, now half-buried beneath the ruins, their faces bearing the marks of the ruthless sabre. The political, like the natural existence of this country, has always been precarious; her social elements, like her subterranean caverns, have always been in a state of agitation; the lava of human passions frequently bursting forth, devastating, and drenching the country with blood.

This place is really significant, as it’s home to the country’s elite and talented individuals. It's adorned with public buildings, churches, and convents that are unmatched in size and grandeur. The plaza is spacious and surrounded by public buildings, elaborately decorated with stucco, all showcasing skilled craftsmanship. My first impressions were very positive, but as I continued my walk, a feeling of sadness gradually took over. Here, amidst the beauty, or I might say the perfection of nature, even in this almost heavenly atmosphere, you can see the marks of the bloody revolutions that have devastated this unfortunate country. Half of the town is in ruins. Palaces that once hosted royal banquets are now roofless, inhabited only by disgusting reptiles. There are statues representing Liberty and Peace, now half-buried among the debris, their faces bearing the scars of the merciless sword. The political landscape here, much like the natural environment, has always been unstable; its social fabric, like its underground caverns, has always been in turmoil, with the lava of human emotions frequently erupting, wreaking havoc, and soaking the land with blood.

The inhabitants of Leon were, as a class, superior to any I had seen in the country; the men were robust, active, and intel{150}ligent, and the females beautiful. They seemed more nearly allied to the Castilian than any I had seen in any of the departments of Spanish America. Hospitality is the predominant characteristic; we frequently found ourselves under obligations, and owing debts of gratitude I fear it will never be in our power to cancel. We feel under particular and lasting obligation to Don Pedro Vaca, and family, for their unsolicited attentions. It was to them we were indebted for a bountiful repast, which was prepared and served by the accomplished daughters,

The people of Leon were, overall, better than anyone I had seen in the country; the men were strong, energetic, and smart, and the women were beautiful. They seemed more closely related to the Castilians than anyone I had encountered in any of the regions of Spanish America. Hospitality was a key trait; we often found ourselves in situations where we owed favors and gratitude that I fear we will never be able to repay. We are particularly grateful to Don Pedro Vaca and his family for their generous kindness. They provided us a wonderful meal, which was prepared and served by their talented daughters,

Whose kind smiles made fatigue disappear,
And turned the night of sadness into day.

They were beautiful, and unconsciously so. I was at a loss which most to admire, the graceful forms, finely-chiseled features, lustrous eyes, and flowing hair, or that soft winning artlessness, which was so preëminently theirs. There was a daughter-in-law in the family; she was also beautiful, but her beauty was in strong contrast with that of the daughters—she having auburn hair, light eyes, and an alabaster complexion. I here fell in with Capt. B., an “old salt,” who very kindly received my trunk into the cart with his own.

They were beautiful, and without even trying. I couldn’t decide what to admire more—their graceful shapes, finely-defined features, glowing eyes, and flowing hair, or their soft and charming innocence that seemed so natural to them. There was a daughter-in-law in the family; she was beautiful too, but her beauty was quite different from the daughters'—she had auburn hair, light eyes, and a pale complexion. I then met Captain B., an “old salt,” who kindly helped load my trunk onto the cart with his own.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. BATHEING AND WASHING CORN, AT CHINANDAGA.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. BATHING AND WASHING CORN, AT CHINANDAGA.

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Chapter Twenty-fifth.

A PROBLEM IN MATHEMATICS WORKED OUT WITH A CANE—PUEBLO NUEVA—CULTIVATING THE ACQUAINTANCE OF A HORSE—LOOKING FOR THE RIDER—AN “OLD SALT” STUCK IN THE MUD—UNCOMFORTABLE NIGHT’S REST—NAGAROTES—LAKE LEON AND THE SURROUNDING VOLCANOS—MATARES—DELIGHTFUL COUNTRY—MANAGUA—DON JOSE MARIA RIVAS—NINDAREE—RUINS OF A VOLCANO—A LONG INDIVIDUAL IN SPURS—A DILEMMA—ONE OF MY HORSE’S LEGS IN MOTION—A BOY IN A MUSICAL MOOD—ENTRY INTO MASSAYA—BLOOMERISM.

A MATHEMATICS PROBLEM SOLVED WITH A CANE—NEW TOWN—GETTING TO KNOW A HORSE—SEARCHING FOR THE RIDER—AN “OLD TIMER” TRAPPED IN THE MUD—AN UNCOMFORTABLE NIGHT—NAGAROTES—LAKE LEON AND THE SURROUNDING VOLCANOES—MATARES—BEAUTIFUL LAND—MANAGUA—DON JOSE MARIA RIVAS—NINDAREE—RUINS OF A VOLCANO—A TALL PERSON IN SPURS—A PREDICAMENT—ONE OF MY HORSE’S LEGS IN ACTION—A BOY IN A SINGING MOOD—ARRIVAL IN MASSAYA—BLOOMERISM.

After remaining three hours at Leon, we were again in motion; not, however, without the usual “poco tiempo.” Our driver now had half a dozen “compañeros;” and in this country people are slow, in mathematical progression, or retrogression—what takes one half an hour to do, takes three six hours. Our captain, however, worked out this problem with his cane upon the back of one of the drivers, which produced a very different result. Our team did not get hungry, nor our drivers fatigued; the latter manifested a particular aversion to the captain’s system of mathematics. The very sight of his cane would create a stampede among them.

After spending three hours in Leon, we were on the move again; but, of course, not without the usual “poco tiempo.” Our driver now had half a dozen “compañeros,” and in this country, people move slowly, either getting things done in gradual steps or going backward—what takes thirty minutes to complete takes three or six hours instead. Our captain, however, tackled this issue with his cane on the back of one of the drivers, which led to a very different outcome. Our team didn’t get hungry, nor did our drivers seem tired; the latter showed a clear dislike for the captain’s method of mathematics. Just the sight of his cane would send them into a stampede.

Our route, during the day, lay through a densely timbered country, the road muddy, and heat excessive; our team becoming much jaded. We moved on until 11 P.M., when, finding feed, we encamped for the night; we found neither a downy pillow nor a musquito net, but were obliged to drop down in the mud at the mercy of those vile insects. Three hours of rest sufficed, and at 2 A.M., we were again in motion, and at nine arrived at Pueblo Nueva. Here we found nothing new, excepting that the inhabitants wore hats and pantaloons. We had breakfast and were again in motion, our route, as on the previous day, being through a densely timbered country, with extremely muddy roads. I had purchased a horse and equipage, and anticipated a pleasant day’s ride. My horse and myself were strangers, but I was soon in a fair way of cultivating his acquaintance. The{152} party had gone on. After arranging my saddle, I mounted, gave the word, and started, myself, but my horse did not; I applied my spur gently, but no signs of life; I applied both spurs, with the same result. I dismounted, examined the saddle, and finding all right, I again mounted; but with all my arguments I could not induce him to take the first step. Presuming there was something wrong, I again dismounted, and went into a critical examination. The saddle was properly adjusted, he had the usual number of legs, and seemed in good condition. There was nothing malicious in his eye, nor was he stuck in the mud. I cut a fair-sized cane and again mounted, but with this additional argument I could not induce him to move, although it was accompanied by the most vehement jestures. He would occasionally look me in the face, and seem to say, “I don’t exactly understand what this means.” Three natives coming along at this particular juncture, I induced them to go behind and push; their first effort caused a general relaxation of the muscular system, and the next moment my horse was on his back, his eyes rolled up, the very picture of resignation; I was looking around on the ground for the rider. We stood in momentary expectation of seeing him breathe his last, but he soon got up and very deliberately commenced eating; I tried to lead him, but no. As the natives were going in the same direction, we each cut a long pole and went behind, soon convincing him that he was a very fair traveler.

Our route during the day passed through a heavily forested area, with muddy roads and intense heat; our team was getting really tired. We kept going until 11 P.M., when we found some feed and set up camp for the night; we had neither a soft pillow nor a mosquito net, so we had to sleep in the mud, exposed to those terrible bugs. Three hours of rest were enough, and at 2 A.M., we were on the move again, arriving at Pueblo Nueva by nine. Here, we found nothing new except that the locals wore hats and pants. We had breakfast and got moving again, traveling through the same dense woods and extremely muddy roads as the day before. I had bought a horse and gear, and I was looking forward to a nice ride. My horse and I were strangers, but I was soon getting used to him. The{152} group had already left. After adjusting my saddle, I got on, gave the command, and started, but my horse didn’t move; I gently used my spurs, but he showed no sign of life; I applied both spurs, with the same result. I got off, checked the saddle, and seeing everything was fine, I got back on; but despite all my efforts, I couldn’t get him to take the first step. Thinking something might be wrong, I got off again for a closer inspection. The saddle was adjusted correctly, he had all his legs, and seemed healthy. There was nothing in his eyes suggesting mischief, nor was he stuck in the mud. I picked up a decent-sized stick and got back on, but even with this extra motivation, I still couldn’t get him to move, despite my enthusiastic gestures. He would occasionally look at me, as if to say, “I don’t exactly understand what you want.” Just then, three locals came by, so I got them to push from behind; their first attempt caused my horse to relax completely, and the next moment he was on his back, eyes rolled up, looking completely resigned; I was basically searching the ground for the rider. We were all waiting for him to take his last breath, but he got up soon after and casually started eating; I tried to lead him, but he wouldn’t budge. Since the locals were headed the same way, we each grabbed a long stick and pushed from behind, quickly convincing him that he was a pretty decent traveler.

I soon overtook the captain, he being on foot, a short distance in the rear of the party, and informed him of the difficulty I had had with my horse. He thought it was owing to his reluctance at leaving home, and proposed to buy a half-interest, and I pay half the expenses of the cart. Two influences operated upon my mind in coming to a conclusion; one, that my trunk was already on the cart, the other that I thought one owner quite insufficient for such a horse. The captain mounted, and I hurried on to overtake the team. Night soon overtook us, and with it a terrific thunder storm. It was extremely dark, and we were obliged to grope about to find our way, the rain pouring down in torrents. We had distanced the captain, but he soon informed us of his locality by bawling out lustily for help. We were startled, and hurried back to his assistance, when we found him

I quickly caught up with the captain, who was walking a short distance behind the group, and told him about the trouble I had with my horse. He thought it was due to the horse's reluctance to leave home and suggested buying a half-interest in the horse, with me covering half the cart expenses. Two factors influenced my decision; first, my trunk was already on the cart, and second, I felt that one owner was not enough for such a horse. The captain got on his horse, and I rushed ahead to catch up with the team. Night fell quickly, bringing with it a severe thunderstorm. It was pitch dark, and we had to feel our way around as rain poured down in torrents. We had left the captain behind, but he soon made his location known by calling out loudly for help. We were startled and quickly rushed back to assist him, where we found him

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. HARBOUR OF REALAJO.

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mounted, the only difficulty being that our horse imagined himself stuck in the mud. The captain had exhausted all the arguments of spurs and stogy, but could not succeed in dispelling from his mind this strange hallucination. We cut a couple of saplings, and after warping him “fore and aft,” half a dozen times, he came to the conclusion that there must be some mistake about it, and moved on. We were destined to encounter other difficulties, for soon after overtaking our cart the axle broke, we unloaded, cut a new one, and after a detention of two hours, were again in motion.

mounted, the only problem being that our horse thought he was stuck in the mud. The captain tried everything—spurs and all—but couldn’t shake this odd belief from the horse's mind. We cut a couple of saplings, and after pulling him back and forth half a dozen times, he finally decided there must be some mistake and moved on. We were in for more challenges, as soon after catching up to our cart, the axle broke. We unloaded, cut a new one, and after being stuck for two hours, we were back on the move.

As if to seal our fate for the night, our cart became entangled, and fastened in a mud-hole; this was a most inauspicious state of things, and to say that we were vexed is using a tame term. There is always one alternative, in our case there were two; we could either stand up in the rain, or lay down in the mud; we chose the former, and as soon as it was sufficiently light, disentangled our cart, and at nine arrived at Nagarotes.

As if to seal our fate for the night, our cart got stuck in a mud hole; this was a really bad situation, and saying we were annoyed is putting it lightly. There’s always one option, but in our case there were two: we could either stand in the rain or lie down in the mud; we chose to stand, and as soon as it got light enough, we got our cart free, and arrived at Nagarotes by nine.

We were in a sad plight to make our appearance among bright eyes. We were in a similar condition to the individual who had not slept any for three nights—last night, to-night, and to-morrow night, with the addition, in our case, of having been thoroughly saturated with rain. Our driver, as if to show his superior wisdom, took his hat from beneath a rawhide in the cart, and dressed in dry pants and shirt, the first clothing he had had on since our first acquaintance with him. Nagarotes is a miserable town; the inhabitants a mixture of Spanish and Indian, the latter predominating. They are all extremely robust and healthy in appearance.

We were in a tough spot trying to make a good impression among bright eyes. We felt like someone who hadn’t slept in three nights—last night, tonight, and tomorrow night—plus, we were completely soaked from the rain. Our driver, wanting to show off his wisdom, pulled his hat from under a rawhide in the cart and put on dry pants and a shirt, which was the first real clothing he had worn since we first met him. Nagarotes is a dismal town; its people are a mix of Spanish and Indigenous, with the Indigenous community being the larger group. They all look very strong and healthy.

After breakfast we moved on, and at 12 M. arrived at Lake Leon. The appearance of this lake as it opened to our view was peculiarly striking. It is shut in by lofty mountains, which tower up in innumerable peaks of volcanic origin, from many of which the smoke curls gracefully out, commingling with the clouds. From the center of the lake rises an island of conical form, which towers up as if to look into the surrounding craters. While our driver was feeding his team we prepared for a bath. We were, however, much disappointed in the anticipated pleasure, finding the heat of the water almost insufferable. Our first sensation was that of pain, and we were soon again in our{154} clothes. This phenomenon added a peculiar interest; the lake seemed a huge cauldron, steaming over an invisible furnace, the surrounding craters serving as flues or chimneys.

After breakfast, we continued on and arrived at Lake Leon at 12 PM. The view of this lake as it appeared before us was striking. It's surrounded by tall mountains, which rise into countless volcanic peaks, with smoke gracefully wafting from many of them, mingling with the clouds. In the center of the lake, there’s a conical island that seems to rise up as if it's trying to peer into the nearby craters. While our driver was feeding his team, we got ready for a swim. However, we were really disappointed by the expected enjoyment, finding the water's heat almost unbearable. Our first reaction was pain, and we quickly got back into our{154} clothes. This strange occurrence added a unique interest; the lake looked like a giant cauldron, steaming over an unseen furnace, with the surrounding craters acting as flues or chimneys.

We passed along down to Matares, a small town situated on an eminence overlooking the lake, and inhabited by descendants of the African race. We breakfasted on chickens, frijoles, tortillos, eggs, &c., and after an hour’s detention started for Managua. We passed through a delightful region of country, the soil, in many places, highly cultivated, bearing the impress of thrift and industry, I had not before seen in the country. Fruits grow in abundance, cattle had an unlimited range, and were the finest I ever saw; the country was broken, the mountains towering up to the clouds, and some covered with perpetual snow; but at their base were vales watered by mountain rivulets, and shaded by groves of orange and fig, seeming a retreat fit for the angels.

We made our way to Matares, a small town perched on a hill overlooking the lake, inhabited by descendants of the African race. We had breakfast with chicken, frijoles, tortillas, eggs, and more, and after an hour’s wait, we set off for Managua. We traveled through a beautiful area with highly cultivated land that showed a level of care and hard work I hadn't seen before in the country. Fruits grew abundantly, cattle roamed freely and were the best I had ever seen; the land was rugged, with mountains reaching up to the clouds, some capped with permanent snow; at their bases were valleys nourished by mountain streams, shaded by groves of orange and fig trees, creating a scene that seemed perfect for angels.

Night overtook us, and we encamped on the bank of the lake; starting early in the morning we descended a hill, being the immediate bank of the lake, and at sunrise arrived at Managua, which is situated at the foot of the lake. We breakfasted with Don Jose Maria Rivas. He was a man of much intelligence, and seemed to feel a lively interest in the affairs of the United States, as well as those of his own country. He alluded to General Taylor’s career, and spoke of his death as a national calamity. We could not prevail upon him to accept remuneration for our breakfast, but pressed it upon a member of the family. We hope we may some day have the honor of serving the worthy Don at our own board.

Night fell on us, and we set up camp on the lake's edge; starting early in the morning, we went down a hill that led directly to the lake, and at sunrise, we reached Managua, located at the foot of the lake. We had breakfast with Don Jose Maria Rivas. He was a very intelligent man and seemed genuinely interested in the affairs of the United States as well as those of his own country. He mentioned General Taylor’s achievements and spoke of his death as a national tragedy. We couldn’t convince him to take payment for our breakfast, but we did urge a family member to accept it. We hope that one day we’ll have the honor of hosting the esteemed Don at our own table.

After a detention of two hours, we were again under way, passing through a most delightful country, with highly cultivated plantations, watered by rivulets running from the mountains. We passed along on the margin of the stream which connects Lake Leon with Lake Nicaragua, running in the direction of the latter. After a fatiguing day’s march night overtook us, and our driver very considerately got the cart fast in another mud-hole. We encamped, and soon had the satisfaction of hearing the rumbling of distant thunder, and soon were wet to the skin. In the morning at sunrise we were at Nindaree; soon after leaving this town we came to what appeared the ruins of

After two hours of waiting, we were on our way again, passing through a beautiful countryside with well-kept farms, nourished by streams flowing from the mountains. We followed the bank of the river that connects Lake Leon to Lake Nicaragua, heading toward the latter. After a tiring day of traveling, night fell, and our driver kindly got the cart stuck in another muddy hole. We set up camp and soon delighted in the sound of distant thunder, only to find ourselves soaked to the bone. By sunrise, we were in Nindaree; shortly after leaving this town, we arrived at what looked like the ruins of

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of W. G. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. OUR ARRIVAL AT MASAYA.

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a volcano. It had consumed itself to its very base, and the surrounding country was strewn with lava, which, in color and form, much resembled blooms or pigs of iron. We moved on, and soon saw indications of the city of Massaya.

a volcano. It had completely burned down to its base, and the area around it was covered with lava that looked a lot like iron blooms or ingots. We continued onward and soon spotted signs of the city of Massaya.

I had two companions who were mounted on donkeys. (See Plate). Our long friend was obliged to hold up his feet to keep them from dragging on the ground; he wore spurs, but they were, at first, of no use to him; when he would raise his feet to apply them, they would be so far aft they would not touch the animal; he, however, with Yankee ingenuity, put them on just below the knee; this had a perceptible influence, enabling him to lead the party.

I had two friends who were riding donkeys. (See Plate). Our tall friend had to lift his feet to keep them from dragging on the ground; he wore spurs, but they were, at first, useless to him; when he tried to lift his feet to use them, they were positioned so far back that they didn’t touch the donkey. However, using some clever thinking, he strapped them on just below the knee; this made a noticeable difference, allowing him to take the lead.

We were disposed to make as favorable an impression upon our entrée as possible. My other companion had hoisted his umbrella, and got his donkey well waked up; I had been leading our horse all the morning, wishing to make my advent on a fresh animal. As we were about to ascend the hill I mounted; my horse at this moment was seized with a most voracious appetite. I applied my spurs, which only seemed to give him a keener relish for the grass. I pulled upon the bridle—it seemed to open his mouth the wider, but go he would not. My companions had left me, and even the cart had passed; and now a party of females, laden with corn for the market, walked leisurely by, not, however, without giving a mischievous wink at my perplexity. This was too much; I dismounted, cut a heavy stick, and again mounted. Under the influence of this, he seemed to devour small brush with the greatest avidity. I must confess I felt cornered; what to do I did not know. I hailed a native lad who was passing, and requested him to go behind and push; this the horse seemed to think derogatory to his standing, and raising one of his hoofs, he struck the lad about midships; the precise number of summersets he turned, I am not prepared to say. He soon gained his feet, and, in a most musical mood, took the longest kind of steps in the direction of a rancho, where, no doubt, his mother lived.

We wanted to make the best impression possible when we arrived. My other friend had opened his umbrella and got his donkey moving; I had been leading our horse all morning, hoping to arrive on a fresh animal. Just as we were about to climb the hill, I got on my horse, which suddenly decided it was extremely hungry. I used my spurs, but that only seemed to make him want the grass even more. I pulled on the reins, but it only made him open his mouth wider, and he refused to move. My friends had already left me, and even the cart had passed by; then a group of women carrying corn for the market walked by slowly, giving me a cheeky wink at my struggle. That was too much; I got off, found a heavy stick, and got back on. With the stick's influence, he started munching on small bushes eagerly. I have to admit, I felt trapped; I didn't know what to do. I called out to a local boy passing by and asked him to push from behind; the horse seemed to think that was beneath him, and he lifted one hoof and kicked the boy in the midsection. I can't say how many flips he did, but he quickly got back up and, looking very determined, took long strides toward a rancho where, I assume, his mother lived.

One of the horse’s legs having got in motion, I applied, most vigorously, spurs and cudgel, and soon the other three started, and I was under way at a rapid pace. I soon gained the summit of the hill, when my horse raised his head, pricked up his{156} ears, and with his nostrils distended looked a very Bucephalus. Never did I make a more auspicious entrée into a city than on this occasion; the natives stood all agog, and even the Bloomer-clad señoras, that had looked upon me sneeringly but a few moments before, now courtesied with veneration. Apropos of Bloomerism—this is the prevailing fashion in Central America; it has become so deeply rooted that it will be difficult to eradicate it. I would recommend this as a favorable retreat for ladies of the North who wish to dispense with the long robe.{157}

One of the horse's legs got moving, so I used my spurs and whip with full force, and soon the other three legs followed, and I was off at a fast pace. I quickly reached the top of the hill, where my horse raised his head, perked up his ears, and with his nostrils flared, looked like a true Bucephalus. I never made a more impressive entrance into a city than this time; the locals were all excited, and even the women in bloomers, who had looked at me with disdain just moments before, were now bowing in respect. By the way, bloomers are the popular trend in Central America; it has become so entrenched that it will be hard to get rid of it. I would suggest this as a good place for Northern ladies who want to get rid of the long dress.{157}

Chapter Twenty-sixth.

MASSAYA—THE CARNIVAL—FEMALE LABORS—GOURDS—MAIDENS CONSIGNED TO A VOLCANO—A DONKEY “NON EST”—OX versus DONKEY—SAME MEDICINE PRESCRIBED—LAKE NICARAGUA—GRENADA—A “PRIEST” IN A CONVENT—“OUR” HORSE—A GROUP OF ISLANDS—CROSS THE LAKE—MR. DERBYSHIRE’S PLANTATION—BREAKFAST—BULLOCKS STEPPING ON BOARD—SAIL FOR SAN CARLOS—MAGNIFICENT SCENE—A HYMN OF THANKS—A MOUNTAIN CITY—GOLD MINES—ARRIVAL AT SAN CARLOS—CUSTOM-HOUSE REGULATIONS REPUDIATED.

MASSAYA—THE CARNIVAL—WOMEN'S WORK—GOURDS—MAIDS SENT TO A VOLCANO—A DONKEY "NOT FOUND"—OX vs DONKEY—SAME MEDICINE GIVEN—LAKE NICARAGUA—GRENADA—A "PRIEST" IN A CONVENT—"OUR" HORSE—A GROUP OF ISLANDS—CROSSING THE LAKE—MR. DERBYSHIRE’S FARM—BREAKFAST—BULLS BOARDING THE BOAT—SAIL FOR SAN CARLOS—AMAZING VIEW—A SONG OF THANKS—A MOUNTAIN TOWN—GOLD MINES—ARRIVAL AT SAN CARLOS—CUSTOMS REGULATIONS DISREGARDED.

After breakfast we strolled about to see the town; the location is commanding, being on the bank of a lake of the same name. The town is large, well laid out, with an open plaza in the centre, which serves as a market-place. At this time everything wore a business-like appearance. Extensive preparations were being made for the carnival, which was to come off in a few days. Here are many fine buildings, including churches, monasteries, and convents, all elaborately ornamented, and decorated with paintings.

After breakfast, we took a walk around to check out the town; the location is impressive, situated on the shore of a lake with the same name. The town is large and well-designed, featuring an open plaza in the center that acts as a marketplace. At this time, everything had a busy feel to it. Huge preparations were underway for the carnival that was set to take place in a few days. There are many beautiful buildings here, including churches, monasteries, and convents, all richly decorated and adorned with paintings.

This is considered one of the most pleasant towns, if not the most pleasant, in the country. Yet, strange as it may seem, it is wholly dependent, for water, upon the lake, the bank of which is a perpendicular ledge of rocks, one hundred feet in height. Up this precipice females are toiling, day after day, for life, in the service of inhuman masters. The water is conveyed in gourds of immense size, which are held to the back by a strap and netting of grass, the former passing over the forehead. These gourds grow on trees, and are natives of the tropics; they grow sufficiently large to contain one and a half or two gallons, perhaps more.

This is considered one of the nicest towns, if not the nicest, in the country. Yet, oddly enough, it is completely reliant on the lake for water, the edge of which is a sheer cliff of rocks, one hundred feet high. Up this steep slope, women are working hard, day after day, for their lives, serving cruel masters. The water is carried in huge gourds, which are strapped to their backs with a net made of grass, the strap going over their foreheads. These gourds grow on trees and are native to the tropics; they get big enough to hold one and a half to two gallons, or maybe even more.

The surrounding country is a mass of lava, the mountains frequently towering up, terminating in volcanic peaks, the most prominent being that of Massaya. This was once the terror of the country, but has now ceased to burn. It is said that the natives formerly, in order to appease its rage, were in the habit{158} of consigning their most beautiful maidens to its terrific bosom. After stopping two hours we were again under way, en route to Grenada, distant twelve miles.

The surrounding area is covered in lava, with mountains often rising up to volcanic peaks, the most notable being Massaya. This used to be a source of fear for the region, but it no longer erupts. It's said that in the past, locals would sacrifice their most beautiful maidens to calm its fury. After resting for two hours, we set off again, on our way to Granada, which is twelve miles away.

The country is rolling, and timbered with cedars, our route laying along a stream emptying into Lake Nicaragua. After traveling six miles we encamped for the night. In the morning our companion’s donkey was non est; there were three drivers now in the party; four reals was the first charge for finding said donkey; the proposition being readily accepted by the owner, they thought it was worth five; this being, accepted, six were demanded, or two reals each for the drivers. Now, we still had fresh in our minds a certain transaction, the subject of which was an ox instead of a donkey. After a word of consultation we came to the conclusion, that notwithstanding the disparity in the length of ears, the same remedy might prove effectual in both cases. We immediately acted upon this hypothesis, and prepared a liberal dose of saplings, and in order that the medicine might reach the system unadulterated, we ordered them to take off their shirts. The medicine proved too strong for their nerves, even before tasting it, and forgetting the reals, they assured us that they would have “mula aqui una momento,” and in five minutes his donkeyship was under the saddle. It was the donkey belonging to our long friend, and it was shrewdly suspected that he (the above-named donkey) was in collusion with the drivers. Whether the accusation was true or false, I am not prepared to say; I noticed, however, that in the course of the morning his master administered to him a dose of the same kind of medicine.

The countryside is hilly and filled with cedar trees, and our path follows a stream that flows into Lake Nicaragua. After we traveled six miles, we set up camp for the night. In the morning, our companion's donkey was missing; now there were three drivers in the group. The initial fee for locating the donkey was four reals, which the owner quickly agreed to, but they thought it was worth five. Once that was accepted, they asked for six—two reals each for the drivers. We still had fresh memories of a previous incident involving an ox instead of a donkey. After a brief discussion, we concluded that despite the difference in their ear lengths, the same solution might work for both situations. We immediately put this theory to the test and prepared a hefty dose of saplings. To make sure the treatment was effective, we instructed the drivers to take off their shirts. The remedy turned out to be too overwhelming for them, even before they tried it. Forgetting about the reals, they promised us that they would have “mula aqui una momento,” and within five minutes, the donkey was saddled up. It was the donkey belonging to our longtime friend, and there were strong suspicions that he (the aforementioned donkey) was in cahoots with the drivers. Whether the accusation was true or not, I can't say for sure; however, I did notice that during the morning, his master gave him a dose of the same type of treatment.

At 9 A.M., we were on the banks of Lake Nicaragua, at Grenada. This is a beautifully located town, with paved streets, and magnificent churches. A description of one town in Central America describes them all. They are all built upon the same plan, with spacious plazas in the centre;—extensive churches and convents, all after a similar order of architecture, some of them ornamented with a degree of splendor seldom surpassed, if equalled, on this continent. The streets, when paved, are paved with cobble-stone, with the gutter in the center. This mode has its advantages when carriages are seldom used.{159}

At 9 A.M., we were by the shores of Lake Nicaragua in Granada. This town is beautifully situated, featuring paved streets and stunning churches. A description of one town in Central America applies to them all. They all follow the same layout, with spacious plazas in the center—large churches and convents, all in a similar architectural style, some adorned with a level of grandeur rarely matched, if ever, on this continent. The paved streets are done in cobblestone, with a gutter running down the center. This design has its perks when carriages are rarely used.{159}

We here found an American, Mr. Priest, of Philadelphia, who had just entered a convent; not, however, with a view to taking the veil, but to take down the superfluous crosses and ornaments, preparatory to converting the building into a hotel. The building had attained the advanced age of two hundred and forty years; it seemed almost sacrilege to divest it of its ornaments. The natives were accustomed to seeing priests enter convents, but they looked upon the demonstrations of our Philadelphia Priest with a suspicious eye.

We found an American, Mr. Priest, from Philadelphia, who had just joined a convent; not to become a monk, but to remove the unnecessary crosses and decorations in order to turn the building into a hotel. The building was 240 years old; it felt almost wrong to strip it of its adornments. The locals were used to seeing priests enter convents, but they regarded our Philadelphia Priest's actions with suspicion.

In Spanish America, a horse that is led through the street is always considered “up” for sale. We hired a muchacho to lead ours through Grenada, and soon had several applicants. One, wishing to try him, mounted, and the horse being thirsty, walked very deliberately down to the lake, and waded in until the water came up to his sides. After remaining for a certain length of time, the rider pulled on the reins, and invited the horse to step ashore; but, no—he was perfectly satisfied with his situation, and did not wish to change it. He applied the spurs—the horse appeared to have fallen into a quiet slumber; he swore in Spanish, but it was of no use. There was no alternative but to dismount, and wade or swim ashore. He reached the shore in safety, but did not buy the horse. We offered him to Mr. Priest for six dollars, including saddle, bridle, and spurs. He offered two, at which price we “closed him out.”

In Spanish America, a horse being led through the streets is always seen as “up” for sale. We hired a muchacho to walk ours through Grenada, and soon had several interested buyers. One person, wanting to test the horse, got on, and since the horse was thirsty, he walked slowly down to the lake and waded in until the water reached his sides. After a while, the rider pulled on the reins and asked the horse to come ashore; but, nope—he was completely happy where he was and didn’t want to move. The rider spurred him on—the horse seemed to have dozed off peacefully; he swore in Spanish, but it didn’t work. He had no choice but to get off and wade or swim to shore. He made it back safely, but he didn't buy the horse. We offered it to Mr. Priest for six dollars, including the saddle, bridle, and spurs. He offered two, and at that price, we decided to walk away from the deal.

Our first efforts were directed to hiring conveyance to San Carlos and San Juan; we applied to Mr. Derbyshire, an English merchant from Jamaica, and succeeded in hiring a bungo of sufficient capacity to carry our party of fifteen, including baggage. There were two other bungoes, hired by Americans that were to be our company down; and after a protracted and vexatious detention of two days, the time of starting arrived. We now, however, had a new and unexpected difficulty to encounter, the boatmen refused to go on board; but after a long parley, a complaint was lodged with the Alcalde, who ordered out a file of soldiers, they forming in line along the river bank to protect the agents, while they were whipping the boatmen on board. At length the oars were plied, and we shot out into the lake, and laid our course for a group of islands three miles distant, in order to lay in a stock of plantains for the voyage. This{160} group number one hundred islands, each having one house and one proprietor. Nothing can excel the beauty and fertility of this group; tropical fruits grow spontaneously and in the greatest abundance, and the islands seem to nestle, with feeling security, in the bosom of this lake, which sleeps in perpetual calm. The foliage is most luxuriant, interlaced with vines bearing flowers of every conceivable hue; these flowers generally hang from the vines on tendrils, and spend their hours fondling with the air, loading its breath with perfume. The trees grow to the very margin of the lake, and seem to look admiringly into the mirror at their feet.

Our first efforts were focused on hiring transportation to San Carlos and San Juan. We reached out to Mr. Derbyshire, an English merchant from Jamaica, and successfully rented a bungo that was big enough to hold our party of fifteen, including our luggage. There were also two other bungoes hired by Americans that would accompany us. After a long and frustrating delay of two days, it was finally time to set off. However, we faced a new and unexpected challenge: the boatmen refused to board the boat. After a lengthy discussion, a complaint was made to the Alcalde, who sent a group of soldiers to line the riverbank and protect the agents while they literally whipped the boatmen aboard. Eventually, we started rowing and ventured out onto the lake, heading toward a cluster of islands three miles away to gather some plantains for the journey. This{160} collection is made up of one hundred islands, each with one house and one owner. Nothing can match the beauty and richness of this group; tropical fruits grow wildly and abundantly, and the islands seem to rest securely in the embrace of this lake, which lies in tranquil calm. The foliage is incredibly lush, intertwined with vines that bear flowers in every imaginable color; these flowers usually hang from the vines on tendrils, swaying gently in the breeze, filling the air with their fragrance. The trees grow right up to the edge of the lake, seemingly admiring their reflections in the still water.

Remaining during the night we took an early start, laying our course in the direction of Mr. Derbyshire’s plantation, which is on the opposite side of the lake, thirty miles distant. Our mission here, or that of our boatmen, was to take in cattle for the San Juan market. We arrived early in the morning of the second day from the islands. Our ambitious boatmen would work only in the evening and morning; in the middle of the day they would lay and broil in the sun.

Remaining overnight, we started early, heading towards Mr. Derbyshire’s plantation, which is thirty miles away on the other side of the lake. Our mission, or that of our boatmen, was to gather cattle for the San Juan market. We arrived early in the morning of the second day after leaving the islands. Our eager boatmen would only work in the morning and evening; during the middle of the day, they would lie around and bask in the sun.

We arrived at an early hour, and commenced preparing breakfast. We had chickens, and rice, and chocolate on board; we sent to the plantation for eggs, milk, and bananas, and soon sat down to a breakfast that would have pleased the most fastidious palate. The manner in which it was served I am not prepared to say was quite so satisfactory. (See Plate.) One was sitting on a rock, drinking his coffee from a tin basin; another standing up, doing likewise; a third holding a chicken by a leg and wing, trying to dissect it without the use of edged tools. One of our party has finished his breakfast, and is sitting on a rock, in a very aldermanic attitude, smoking a pipe, probably the only one ever introduced into Central America.

We arrived early and started preparing breakfast. We had chickens, rice, and chocolate with us; we sent to the plantation for eggs, milk, and bananas, and soon we were sitting down to a breakfast that would have satisfied even the pickiest eater. I can’t say the way it was served was quite as impressive. (See Plate.) One person was sitting on a rock, drinking coffee from a tin basin; another was standing, doing the same; a third was holding a chicken by a leg and wing, trying to carve it up without any sharp tools. One of our group had finished his breakfast and was sitting on a rock, in a very comfortable position, smoking a pipe, probably the first one ever brought to Central America.

While we were taking breakfast, the natives were taking in a cargo of bullocks; the manner was truly Spanish. The bungoes were anchored a short distance from shore, the cattle were driven as near as convenient, when one of them would be lassoed, the other end of the lasso being fastened to the horse’s neck; the horse is mounted and spurred into the lake, drawing the victim after him, which, in case of resistance, is unmercifully beaten. The horse tows him around on the seaward side of the

While we were having breakfast, the locals were unloading a shipment of cattle; the technique was distinctly Spanish. The boats were anchored a short distance from the shore, and the cattle were brought as close as possible. When one of them was lassoed, the other end of the lasso was tied to the horse's neck; the rider would mount the horse and spur it into the lake, pulling the struggling animal along. If the cattle resisted, they were ruthlessly beaten. The horse dragged it around on the seaward side of the

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. BREAKFASTING ON SHORE, NICARAGUA LAKE.

{161}

bungo, when the lasso is slipped and the bullock beaten and booted until he jumps on board. Two passengers of this class will be seen cozily chewing their cuds in the midships of the two bungoes in the foreground, and one is just stepping on board that on the right. In the background is seen a party of natives, cooking and eating breakfast. They put rice and plantains together into an iron pot, and stew them into a chowder which is served out in small gourds. After spending an hour on shore, there was a simultaneous move to go on board; the inexpressibles of some were rolled up, others pulled off. Before starting we saw one native moving towards the bungo, and one only; he was dressed in nature’s garments, with a palm-leaf hat in his hand, and a bunch of stolen bananas on his shoulder. On arriving at the side of our bungo, we found the best apartments occupied by his bullockship, to which we immediately protested, as contrary to the rules of polite society; not that we wished to limit any one of the passengers in the number of legs used, but then his head-dress was “positively shocking,” and might put us to great inconvenience in a case of emergency. Our first impulse was to show him the depth of water on our larboard quarter, but then he seemed quiet, and as he was engaged to appear at the table of nobility at San Juan, we resolved to submit to the inconvenience, and let him ride. We soon slipped our cables, and were under way in the direction of San Carlos. Nothing can exceed the magnificence and beauty of the scene that now surrounds us. Mountains are climbing one above the other, until the last is lost in the clouds; the lake is studded with islands, some reposing modestly in her bosom, others rearing their heads as if trying to vie with the surrounding mountains. Now night throws her sable mantle over the scene, and all is hushed as death; the surrounding volcanos light their watch fires, and loom up in the most terrific grandeur. In the morning our boatmen rose up from their seats, and, in a wild strain, chanted a hymn of praise to God for protection to themselves and “los Americanos.”

bungo, when the lasso is released and the bullock is hitched and booted until it jumps on board. Two passengers of this kind can be seen comfortably chewing their cuds in the midsection of the two bungoes in the foreground, and one is just getting on board that one on the right. In the background, a group of locals is cooking and having breakfast. They combine rice and plantains in an iron pot and stew them into a chowder, which is served in small gourds. After spending an hour on shore, everyone moved to get back on board at the same time; some rolled up their trousers, while others took them off. Before we left, we saw one local approaching the bungo, and only one; he was dressed in nothing but nature’s attire, with a palm-leaf hat in his hand and a bunch of stolen bananas on his shoulder. When he reached our bungo, we found the best spots taken by his bullock, and we immediately objected, as it was against the rules of polite society; not that we wanted to limit any passenger in the number of legs they had, but his headgear was “absolutely shocking,” and might cause us significant inconvenience in an emergency. Our first instinct was to show him how deep the water was on our left side, but he seemed calm, and since he was supposed to appear at the table of nobility in San Juan, we decided to tolerate the inconvenience and let him stay. We soon untied our cables and headed towards San Carlos. The magnificence and beauty of the scene around us are unparalleled. Mountains rise one above the other until the last one disappears into the clouds; the lake is dotted with islands, some resting modestly in its embrace, others standing tall as if trying to compete with the surrounding mountains. Now night blankets the scene, and everything is as quiet as death; the nearby volcanoes light their watch fires and rise in terrifying grandeur. In the morning, our boatmen stood up from their seats and, in a wild tune, sang a hymn of praise to God for their protection and for “los Americanos.”

In the course of the morning we passed in sight of a town, which was situated on the side of the mountain, at a great elevation, presenting a most picturesque appearance. We also saw miners at work in the gold mines, on the side of the mountain. As we{162} drew near San Carlos, we saw several volcanos rising, in pyramidal form, from the bosom of the lake; one, that of Omotepeque, towering up to the height of six thousand feet. (See Plate.)

In the morning, we saw a town on the mountainside that looked really picturesque from our viewpoint. We also spotted miners working in the gold mines on the mountain. As we{162} approached San Carlos, we noticed several volcanoes, shaped like pyramids, rising from the lake; one of them, Omotepeque, reaches a height of six thousand feet. (See Plate.)

On our arrival at San Carlos we were required to submit to custom-house regulations, the officer insisting upon searching our trunks. To this we demurred, having passed through the entire country without submitting to such an ordeal. The officer seeming anxious to compromise the matter, demanded $5 in stead from each; the Americans who had preceded us submitted to this extortion, but we were determined to resist. The officer became more moderate, coming down—down—down—to a real; upon our refusing to pay this, he made a move in the direction of the cannon which was near; we, however, were first to possess it, and things for the moment wore a warlike appearance. The officer, not wishing to bring things to a crisis, held a consultation with our “Padrone,” and came to the conclusion that all was right, that as we were Americans he would treat us with due consideration. At the left, in the Plate, is seen the residence of this worthy officer, behind which is the village of San Carlos.

When we arrived at San Carlos, we had to go through customs, and the officer insisted on searching our luggage. We hesitated since we had traveled through the whole country without going through such an ordeal. The officer, looking to make a compromise, asked for $5 from each of us; the Americans who came before us agreed to this extortion, but we were determined to resist. The officer became more reasonable, lowering the amount—down—down—to one real; when we still refused to pay, he moved towards the cannon that was nearby. However, we got to it first, and for a moment, it looked like things might escalate into a conflict. The officer, not wanting to escalate things, talked it over with our “Padrone” and decided everything was fine, stating that since we were Americans, he would treat us with respect. To the left in the Plate, you can see this officer’s residence, behind which is the village of San Carlos.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. SAN CARLOS NICARAGUA LAKE

{163}

Chapter Twenty-seventh.

PASSAGE DOWN THE SAN JUAN RIVER—CASTILIAN RAPIDS—THE “DIRECTOR”—ARRIVAL AT SAN JUAN—BOARDED BY A POSSE OF NEGROES—BRITISH PROTECTORATE—PHILANTHROPY OF GREAT BRITAIN—HER MAGNANIMOUS AND DISINTERESTED CONDUCT TOWARDS THE NATIONS OF THE EARTH—NICARAGUA GRACIOUSLY REMEMBERED—A HUNT FOR A SOVEREIGN—A FULL-GROWN KING DISCOVERED—HIS DIPLOMACY—INVINCIBILITY—AMUSEMENTS AND CORONATION—HIS FIRST PAIR OF PANTALOONS—HAIL “KING OF THE MUSQUITO COAST”!!!—ALL HAIL JAMACA I.!!!—“HEAR! HEAR!!!”

PASSAGE DOWN THE SAN JUAN RIVER—CASTILIAN RAPIDS—THE “DIRECTOR”—ARRIVAL AT SAN JUAN—BOARDED BY A GROUP OF AFRICAN AMERICANS—BRITISH PROTECTORATE—PHILANTHROPY OF GREAT BRITAIN—HER MAGNANIMOUS AND SELFLESS ACTIONS TOWARDS THE NATIONS OF THE WORLD—NICARAGUA GRACIOUSLY REMEMBERED—A SEARCH FOR A SOVEREIGN—A FULL-GROWN KING DISCOVERED—HIS DIPLOMACY—INVINCIBILITY—ENTERTAINMENT AND CORONATION—HIS FIRST PAIR OF PANTS—HAIL “KING OF THE MUSQUITO COAST”!!!—ALL HAIL JAMACA I.!!!—“HEAR! HEAR!!!”

We were soon on board, and passing around a point, were floating down the San Juan river at the rate of five knots. After a two hour’s run our boatmen unshipped their oars, and commenced gambling; we were borne along by the current, at the rate of two miles an hour, until toward evening, when the oars were again manned. At nine in the evening, the roar of the water admonished us that we were approaching the Castilian rapids, and we came to anchor. The natives have a dread of this rapid, and in passing it feel that their lives are in imminent peril; in this case, however, a party of boatmen forgetting themselves in sleep, passed over, and in the morning found themselves entangled in the bushes, along the margin of the river. We descended the rapid, finding the steamboat “Director,” in the act of ascending; she was making her first passage up, preparatory to taking her place on the lake for the transportation of passengers, in connection with Vanderbilt’s Line of steamships. The passage up the rapid was very difficult, owing to the strong current, being about six knots; she however succeeded, and is now plying on the lake. We passed down, and at two the next morning came to anchor in the harbor of San Juan.

We soon boarded and, after rounding a point, floated down the San Juan River at five knots. After a two-hour run, our boatmen set aside their oars and started gambling; we were carried along by the current at two miles an hour until the evening, when the oars were picked up again. At nine in the evening, the roar of the water warned us that we were nearing the Castilian rapids, so we anchored. The locals have a deep fear of this rapid and feel their lives are in serious danger when passing through it; however, one group of boatmen, forgetting themselves in sleep, drifted over and woke up tangled in the bushes along the river's edge the next morning. We went down the rapids and spotted the steamboat "Director" trying to go up; she was making her first trip up to prepare for her service on the lake for transporting passengers, connected with Vanderbilt’s Line of steamships. The ascent was very challenging due to the strong current, which was about six knots, but she managed to make it and is now operating on the lake. We continued down and at two the next morning anchored in the harbor of San Juan.

At an early hour in the morning we were boarded by a posse of negroes, whose mission it was to search our baggage for firearms; they succeeded in finding two rusty guns belonging to our padrone, which they carried off in triumph. It is well{164} known that this harbor is under the protectorate of Great Britain, and our worthy visitors were subjects of Her Majesty, as well as of His Majesty of the “Mosquito Coast.” They seem in fear of an army from Grenada, hence this precaution.

At an early hour in the morning, a group of African Americans boarded us, with the mission of searching our bags for firearms. They managed to find two rusty guns that belonged to our padrone, which they took away triumphantly. It's well-known that this harbor is under British protection, and our esteemed visitors were subjects of Her Majesty, as well as His Majesty of the “Mosquito Coast.” They seemed to be worried about an army from Grenada, which is why they were taking this precaution.

The town consists of about fifty thatched houses, tenanted by French, English, German, Spanish, and Negroes. Things here are, in a measure, reverso; a negro is agent for Great Britain—his boots are blacked by a white man. We found a British man-of-war in port, which is kept here to enforce their wholesome regulations.

The town has around fifty thatched houses, rented by French, English, German, Spanish, and Black people. Here, things are somewhat reversed; a Black man is the agent for Great Britain—his boots are polished by a white man. We discovered a British warship in port, which is stationed here to enforce their wholesome regulations.

The philanthropy of Great Britain has become proverbial. There is scarcely a port on the European continent that has not heard the music of her cannon, and been relieved of its surplus treasures. Three-fourths of a century ago, she succeeded in establishing, on the American continent, the government of the United States, and a few years thereafter voluntarily offered the use of a fleet and army at New Orleans, a part of which was used, the balance returned. Mexico has also been a recipient of her kind attentions. She has taken possession of the richest mines in Mexico, and worked them gratuitously, sending off millions under the protection of the “red cross of St. George.” Her sappers and miners have found their way to Peru and Chili, as well as other divisions on the Pacific coast of South America, the mines of all of which have been taken possession of, and worked on the same accommodating terms as those of Mexico. She sent a fleet free of charge to the Argentine Republic, took possession of her ports, and forced the navigation of her rivers. Texas, after emerging from her glorious struggle for liberty, was offered the kind wing of protection; Great Britain even going so far as to offer her assistance in maintaining a separate republic, thinking annexation to the United States inexpedient. She visited China in the capacity of doctor, and most magnanimously forced her prescription down their unwilling throats. Her philanthropic eye next took a survey of Central America. Here she found governments of that odious form called republican, that of Nicaragua having an extent of sea coast, with accessible ports, and numerous rivers.

The philanthropy of Great Britain has become well-known. There’s hardly a port on the European continent that hasn’t heard the sounds of her cannons and been relieved of its excess wealth. Three-quarters of a century ago, she succeeded in establishing the government of the United States on the American continent, and a few years later, she voluntarily offered the use of a fleet and army in New Orleans, some of which was used, while the rest was returned. Mexico has also benefited from her generous actions. She took control of the richest mines in Mexico and operated them gratuitously, sending off millions under the protection of the “red cross of St. George.” Her sappers and miners have made their way to Peru and Chile, as well as other areas along the Pacific coast of South America, where the mines have been occupied and worked under the same accommodating terms as those in Mexico. She dispatched a fleet free of charge to the Argentine Republic, seized her ports, and forced the navigation of her rivers. After Texas emerged from her glorious struggle for liberty, she offered her the kind protection; Great Britain even went so far as to offer assistance in maintaining a separate republic, believing that annexation to the United States would be unwise. She visited China as a healer and most generously forced her treatment down their unwilling throats. Her philanthropic gaze then turned to Central America. Here she found governments of that odious type called republican, with Nicaragua having a coastal area, accessible ports, and numerous rivers.

No one, up to this time, had interfered with the jurisdiction

No one, until now, had interfered with the jurisdiction

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. SAN JUAN DE NICARAGUA.

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of Nicaragua, nor was her claim to this coast ever disputed. Great Britain, in her superior wisdom, however, decided that as Nicaragua had no particular use for seaports, they would be better in other hands, even if she herself should be compelled to assume the protectorate. The first step necessary to accomplish this magnanimous object was to find a suitable sovereign. She is supposed to have embarked in the search with her characteristic zeal and energy; it is presumed that the first inquiries were made at San Juan. At first the prospect of success was not flattering, but fortunately inquiries were made of a native Indian, who very innocently informed Her Britannic Majesty’s agent that his chief was sojourning along the “Mosquito Coast.”

of Nicaragua, nor was her claim to this coast ever challenged. Great Britain, in its superior wisdom, decided that since Nicaragua had no particular need for seaports, they would be better off in other hands, even if she herself had to take on the protectorate. The first step necessary to achieve this noble goal was to find a suitable sovereign. It is said that she enthusiastically began the search with her usual zeal and energy; initial inquiries were presumably made at San Juan. At first, the chances of success were not promising, but fortunately, questions were asked of a local Indian, who unknowingly told Her Britannic Majesty’s agent that his chief was staying along the “Mosquito Coast.”

What could have been more opportune? This was precisely the individual sought; here was a great man, a chief, in actual possession of the country, i. e., he had actually hunted ’possums there for a period of six months! The matter was immediately decided upon, and arrangements made to pay the monarch a visit on the following day, preparatory to his coronation. Artizans were employed in the manufacture of presents suitable for one who seemed pointed out by the finger of Providence to wear the “purple and ermine.” Tin pans were immediately transformed into crowns and collars, sardine boxes into breast-plates and stars, pill-boxes into ear and finger-rings, and “extinguishers” into ornaments for the nose. These, after a revision by chamois and soap-stone, were safely boxed, that they might not be tarnished by the touch of vulgar hands. A demijohn was filled with rum—as was supposed, to prevent his Majesty from fainting under the operation of putting on his first pair of pantaloons.

What could have been more perfect? This was exactly the person they needed; here was a great leader, a chief, who actually controlled the land—he had been hunting ’possums there for six months! The decision was made immediately, and plans were set to visit the monarch the next day in preparation for his coronation. Craftspeople were called in to create gifts suitable for someone who seemed chosen by fate to wear the “purple and ermine.” Tin pans were quickly turned into crowns and collars, sardine boxes into breastplates and stars, pill boxes into rings for his ears and fingers, and “extinguishers” into nose ornaments. After being polished with chamois and soapstone, these items were securely packed away to keep them from getting dirty from ordinary hands. A demijohn was filled with rum—presumably to ensure his Majesty didn’t faint while putting on his first pair of pants.

Early on the following morning, the ship having been ordered to drop along down the coast, the party were in motion under the pilotage of the Indian above mentioned. What momentous results sometimes attend the acts of individuals in the humble walks of life! This poor Indian, having been driven to the shore by hunger, had, while making a meal of raw fish, imparted a word, which single word was the means of bringing forth to the world a full-grown king. What were the feelings of this native, as he cut his way through the chaparrals? Had he aspirations? No doubt he had! In his wild delirium of plea{166}sure, he, no doubt, dreamed of a canoe of his own, and a raw hide to sleep on; instead of going naked, as he had done all his life, he might have a red bandana to tie around his neck; he thought of abundance of broiled lizard, with plantain cooked in ’possum fat for dessert. With such bright visions in the future, it is not astonishing that, in wading swamps and cutting through chaparrals, he distanced those under his pilotage.

Early the next morning, the ship was ordered to sail down the coast, and the group began their journey with the guidance of the mentioned Indian. It's amazing how much impact the actions of ordinary individuals can have! This poor Indian, driven to the shore by hunger, while eating raw fish, shared a word that eventually led to the emergence of a full-grown king. What must this native have felt as he made his way through the tangled brush? Did he have dreams? Surely he did! In his wild rush of joy, he probably imagined owning his own canoe and having a rawhide to sleep on. Instead of being naked, as he had been all his life, he might wear a red bandana around his neck. He envisioned feasting on roasted lizard with plantain cooked in possum fat for dessert. With such bright dreams ahead, it’s no wonder that while wading through swamps and cutting through the brush, he outpaced those he was leading.

Nor was there a want of zeal on the part of Her Britannic Majesty’s agent. He too had aspirations. He was on a mission which, if successful, must result in incalculable benefit to the world in general, and to Her Britannic Majesty’s government in particular. If successful, knighthood was the least he could expect, with the prospect of a niche, eventually, in Westminster Abbey.

Nor was there any lack of enthusiasm from Her Britannic Majesty’s agent. He also had ambitions. He was on a mission that, if successful, would bring immense benefits to the world at large, and to Her Britannic Majesty’s government in particular. If he succeeded, knighthood was the least he could hope for, with the possibility of having a place in Westminster Abbey eventually.

Never were mortals more eager for immortality, nor was it ever more clearly within their reach; for even now, at this point in the drama, the very dogs of his Majesty seemed to proclaim it—the royal encampment was in sight. The party deployed into a single file, and prepared to approach the presence. They took the monarch by surprise; he was stretched out at full length, on a “highly-scented” raw hide, under the shade of a palm-tree, as naked as he came into the world. He was amusing himself by trying to “get up” a fight between a parrot and a young monkey; his squaw was broiling a couple of lizards or guanas, and roasting plantains for dinner.

Never had people been more eager for immortality, nor had it ever been more clearly within their reach; for even now, at this point in the story, the very dogs of his Majesty seemed to announce it—the royal camp was in sight. The group lined up in a single file and got ready to approach the presence. They caught the monarch off guard; he was lying fully stretched out on a “highly-scented” raw hide, under the shade of a palm tree, as naked as the day he was born. He was entertaining himself by trying to start a fight between a parrot and a young monkey; his squaw was cooking a couple of lizards or iguanas, and roasting plantains for dinner.

The interview was at first embarrassing, but after consulting the demijohn, they seemed imbued with a more fraternizing spirit, and commenced conversation on the subject of empire, and the prerogative of kings. Her Britannic Majesty’s agent felt himself a man of importance, and at first seemed somewhat patronizing; but the monarch had consulted the demijohn too often to be outdone, and, as a proof of his invincibility, he exhibited a huge turtle, which had fallen a victim to his machet; he had climbed a tree that none of his men could climb, and caught sixteen “’possums,” all hanging by the same tail from the same limb; he had taken his biggest dog by the tail, and swung him around his head three times, and declared he would do it again for their amusement. “Carlo” was immediately seized by the tail, but feeling a little sensitive, he curled up, bit

The interview was a bit awkward at first, but after having some drinks, they seemed to be in a friendlier mood and started talking about empires and the rights of kings. Her Britannic Majesty’s representative felt important and came off as a bit condescending, but the monarch had also had his share of drinks and wasn’t going to be outdone. To prove his point, he showed off a huge turtle he had caught with his machete; he had climbed a tree that none of his crew could manage and caught sixteen opossums all hanging from the same branch by their tails. He even grabbed his biggest dog by the tail and spun him around three times, saying he’d do it again just for their entertainment. “Carlo” was quickly grabbed by the tail, but feeling a bit sensitive, he curled up and bit.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. THE HARBOUR AT SAN JUAN, NICARAGUA.

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his master, and escaped. This led to a spirited foot-race, and as “Carlo” dodged, the monarch slipped, his head coming in contact with the root of a tree. He seemed discouraged, and made no effort to regain his feet. The Englishman felt that he had committed a faux pas in allowing him free access to the demijohn, and resolved to defer negotiations until the following day. He immediately repaired to the shore, and hoisted a signal for the ship’s boat.

his master, and escaped. This led to an exciting foot-race, and as “Carlo” dodged, the monarch slipped, his head hitting the root of a tree. He seemed discouraged, and made no effort to get back on his feet. The Englishman felt that he had made a faux pas by allowing him free access to the demijohn and decided to postpone negotiations until the next day. He quickly went to the shore and signaled for the ship’s boat.

On the following morning, the boat was again sent ashore, with an invitation for the monarch to visit Her Majesty’s ship. Feeling as individuals will feel next day, he graciously accepted the invitation. A detail of what transpired on board has never been made public, reporters having been excluded. In the afterpart of the day an unusual demonstration was made, flags were displayed, cannon fired, and as the band struck up “Hail to the Chief,” an individual was seen descending the side of the ship, with a tin crown on his head, and a pair of red flannel pantaloons under his arm. On reaching the boat he took his position astride a barrel of rum, and moved toward the shore in triumph, having been crowned “King of the Mosquito Coast.” All hail, Jamaca I.!!! It is well known that Great Britain immediately recognized the government, and assumed the protectorate; hence the presence of the “red cross” at San Juan.

The next morning, the boat was sent ashore again, inviting the monarch to visit Her Majesty’s ship. Feeling as people typically do the next day, he graciously accepted the invitation. Details of what happened on board have never been made public, as reporters were kept away. Later in the day, there was a peculiar display: flags were raised, cannons fired, and when the band played “Hail to the Chief,” a person was seen coming down from the ship with a tin crown on his head and a pair of red flannel pants under his arm. When he reached the boat, he positioned himself sitting on a barrel of rum and made his way to the shore in triumph, having been crowned “King of the Mosquito Coast.” All hail, Jamaca I.!!! It is widely known that Great Britain quickly recognized the government and took on the protectorate; thus the presence of the “red cross” at San Juan.

The distance from San Juan to Realejo is about three hundred miles. Passengers going the Nicaragua route now take a steamboat at San Juan, which runs up to the Castilian Rapids; then, after a portage of half a mile, another steamboat takes them up the river to San Carlos; thence across Lake Nicaragua to Virgin Bay. Then by pack-mules they are taken to San Juan del Sud, on the Pacific. The distances on the river and lake are about equal, being about seventy-five miles each, and from twelve to fifteen miles by land. There is every facility for crossing here, there being several steamboats plying on the river and lake. Steamships enter the mouth of the San Juan River, and the river boats come along side, consequently passengers incur no expense in the transfer, and are not obliged to land, as the small steamboats take them immediately up the river. This route has the advantage, in distance, over the Panama route, of about one thousand miles; still, the passage from{168} San Francisco to New York has, as yet, been accomplished in the shortest time by way of Panama.

The distance from San Juan to Realejo is about three hundred miles. Passengers traveling the Nicaragua route now take a steamboat from San Juan, which goes up to the Castilian Rapids; then, after a half-mile portage, another steamboat takes them up the river to San Carlos; from there, they cross Lake Nicaragua to Virgin Bay. Then they are transported by pack mules to San Juan del Sud on the Pacific coast. The distances on the river and lake are roughly equal, around seventy-five miles each, and about twelve to fifteen miles by land. There are plenty of options for crossing here, with several steamboats operating on the river and lake. Steamships enter the mouth of the San Juan River, and the riverboats come alongside, so passengers don't incur any costs for the transfer and aren't required to disembark, as the smaller steamboats take them directly up the river. This route is about one thousand miles shorter than the Panama route in terms of distance; however, the trip from{168} San Francisco to New York has still been completed in the shortest time via Panama.

Now, dear reader, having finished my business here, I am ready to return. I will not trouble you to make the journey back to Realejo in a cart, but as I promised to accompany you, we will take one psychological leap, and salute our national flag in the main plaza of San Francisco.

Now, dear reader, having wrapped up my tasks here, I'm ready to head back. I won't inconvenience you with a cart ride back to Realejo, but as I promised to join you, we’ll take a psychological leap and salute our national flag in the main plaza of San Francisco.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. CASTLE AT ACAPULCO.

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Chapter Twenty-eighth.

SAIL FOR HOME—PASS THE “GOLDEN GATE,”—SAD CONDITION OF THE PASSENGERS—GRAVES AT THE BASE OF THE SNOWY MOUNTAINS—LAND RECEDES—LUXURIES ON BOARD—A DEATH AND BURIAL—ANOTHER DEATH—WHALES AND PORPOISES versus SERPENTS OF FIRE—THUNDER STORM—DEATH OF DOCTOR REED—THREE DEAD BODIES FOUND ON BOARD—THE SCURVY—FIVE OF THE PASSENGERS INSANE—EVILS OF THE CREDIT SYSTEM—A CULTIVATED MIND DERANGED—MEMORY LOST—ITS CAUSE—THE VICTIM UPON THE VERGE OF DEATH—HARPOONING PORPOISES—EXCITING SPORT.

I had designed to leave San Francisco for home in the steamer of the 1st December, and had purchased my ticket with that view; but the steamer, being a foreign bottom, was unable to clear for another port in California, and having but small capacity for coal, I feared detention, and was induced to sell my ticket, and take passage in the ship Edward Everett, which was to sail on the 28th November, and which, I felt confident, would reach Panama in advance of the steamer. We were notified to be on board at 9 A.M.; and when Mr. Fairchild and myself reached the shore with our baggage, we saw the ship two miles out just preparing to swing from her moorings. We engaged two hardy “tars,” and were soon pulling off for her; we threaded our way through the shipping, and were doing our utmost as we saw the anchor of the Everett already up, her foresail aback, and she “turning on her heel,” preparatory to standing out to sea. We boarded her as she was under way. We passed the clippership Architect, which was just weighing anchor for Valparaiso; the captains saluted each other through their trumpets, and we passed on through the Golden Gate, with a fair breeze, assisted by the unerring ebb tide. The passengers, eighty in number, were all on deck to take a last look at the receding landscape.

I had planned to leave San Francisco for home on the steamer on December 1st and had bought my ticket for that purpose. However, since the steamer was a foreign vessel, it couldn’t clear to another port in California, and because it had limited coal capacity, I worried about delays. So, I decided to sell my ticket and booked passage on the ship Edward Everett, which was scheduled to sail on November 28th. I was confident it would reach Panama before the steamer. We were told to be on board by 9 A.M.; when Mr. Fairchild and I arrived at the shore with our luggage, we saw the ship two miles out, just getting ready to leave the dock. We hired two strong sailors and soon headed out to her. We navigated through the other ships and were doing our best as we noticed the Everett’s anchor already up, her foresail set, and she was “turning on her heel,” getting ready to head out to sea. We boarded her as she was departing. We passed the clippership Architect, which was just lifting its anchor for Valparaiso; the captains greeted each other with their horns as we moved through the Golden Gate, with a nice breeze at our back, aided by the steady ebb tide. The eighty passengers were all on deck for a final view of the fading landscape.

It had been but a few short days since they first beheld this scene—since they first entered through this “Gate,” into the land of promise. They now look upon the same narrow passage,{170} the same bold rocky coast, they had looked for with so much anxiety, and greeted with so much enthusiasm. But how different the feelings now! what a change! They were then accompanied by a brother or a friend, with high hopes and vigorous constitutions, looking forward with brilliant anticipations. But now the brother and friend are sleeping quietly at the base of yonder snow-capped mountain, and they are bearing the sad intelligence to the bereaved parents, brothers, and sisters. Instead of the vigorous constitutions, they are obliged to cling to the rigging for support, while they gaze for the last time upon the scene. With many it is the last time they are to view such a scene; their eyes are about to close upon the earth forever, to sleep beneath the bosom of the ocean. Many have not only sacrificed health, but are destitute of means, and are now reeling about the ship, endeavoring to earn their passage by their labor. Our ship seemed a hospital; three-fourths of all the passengers were invalids, some of them helpless. We drifted away before the wind, the mountains gradually disappearing from the horizon; one had lingered long, but as we descended from the crest of a mountain wave, we bid it also, a last farewell. We spent the afternoon in adjusting our baggage, and the night in sleep; the morning dawned brightly—we were still under a full press of canvas, with a fair wind. All on board had taken passage under the impression that the accommodations were superior, for which they had paid extra. We consequently felt that we were well provided for, and fairly embarked on our voyage home. As usual the first day at sea, but little attention was paid to the cook, the passengers remaining cozily ensconced in their berths.

It had only been a few days since they first saw this scene—since they first entered through this “Gate” into the promised land. Now they looked at the same narrow passage,{170} the same bold rocky coastline they had anticipated with so much anxiety and greeted with so much excitement. But how different the feelings were now! What a change! Back then, they were with a brother or a friend, filled with high hopes and good health, looking forward to bright futures. But now the brother and friend are resting quietly at the base of that snow-capped mountain, and they are bringing the sad news to the grieving parents, brothers, and sisters. Instead of strong bodies, they struggle to hold on to the rigging for support while taking one last look at the scene. For many, it will be the last time they view such a sight; their eyes are about to close forever on this earth, to rest beneath the ocean’s waves. Many have not only lost their health but are also broke, now stumbling around the ship trying to earn their passage with their work. Our ship felt like a hospital; three-fourths of the passengers were ill, some completely helpless. We drifted away with the wind, the mountains gradually fading from view; one mountain lingered for a while, but as we dropped down from the peak of a wave, we bid it a final farewell. We spent the afternoon organizing our baggage and the night sleeping; the morning dawned bright—we were still under full sails, with a favorable wind. Everyone on board had taken the trip under the impression that the accommodations were top-notch, for which they had paid extra. So we felt well looked after and ready for our journey home. Like usual, on the first day at sea, little attention was paid to the cook, as the passengers stayed comfortably tucked in their beds.

The 30th was ushered in with a fine breeze, and we were standing on our course. At noon we found the table supplied with hard bread (sea-biscuit) and salt beef, dainties that our stomachs did not relish; the same table was kept standing for supper. Captain Smith was interrogated in reference to his supply of provisions, for which we had paid him extra; he replied that he was abundantly supplied with the above, which, if we chose, we could have served up every day during the voyage; when too late, we learned that the delicacies for the sick, with which he had by public notice proclaimed his ship{171} abundantly supplied, were “non est.” He had not even a pound of fruit on board; the invalids felt this privation most sensibly many of whom had come on board without supplies, having been led to believe by advertisements, that the ship had been furnished with a direct view to the comforts of those returning in ill-health. From the fare with which our table was supplied, it was impossible for a weak stomach to extract sufficient nutriment to sustain life. This was soon manifest, as those who were destitute immediately commenced to decline, and were soon confined to their berths. We could plainly see that the lives of some were fast ebbing away.

The 30th arrived with a nice breeze, and we were on our course. At noon, we found the table set with hard bread (sea-biscuit) and salt beef, treats that our stomachs didn't appreciate; the same table was left up for supper. Captain Smith was questioned about his supply of provisions, for which we had paid extra; he responded that he had plenty of the above, which, if we wanted, could be served every day during the voyage. Too late, we learned that the special items for the sick, which he had publicly announced his ship{171} was well-stocked with, were “non est.” He didn't even have a pound of fruit on board; the sick really felt this lack, especially many who had come on board without supplies, having been led to believe through advertisements that the ship was equipped with the comforts for those returning in poor health. Given the food we had, it was impossible for someone with a weak stomach to get enough nutrition to stay alive. This became obvious soon, as those without resources began to decline and were quickly confined to their berths. We could clearly see that some lives were slipping away.

On the 6th December, in lat,. 22° 50´, North, it was announced that G. W. Ray, of Maine, was dead. He died at 10 A.M.; the gang-plank was placed, one end extending over the side of the ship, supported by the rail, the other supported by a cask, over this was thrown a piece of canvas, upon which was placed the corpse. A rope was tied around the body; thence, passing down was tied around the ancles, and to the end was attached a canvas bag, filled with sand. The body was then sewed up in the canvas, over which was thrown the ensign of California. The passengers now surround the corpse, with heads uncovered. A prayer is read by the captain, the ensign is removed, and at the word one end of the plank is raised, and the body passes gently into its grave. We are under a full press of canvas with an eight knot breeze; the last bubble rises to the surface, and the wind passes mournfully through the shrouds, as if sighing his last requiem.

On December 6th, at latitude 22° 50' North, it was announced that G. W. Ray from Maine had passed away. He died at 10 A.M.; the gangplank was set up, one end hanging over the side of the ship and supported by the rail, while the other end rested on a cask. A piece of canvas was laid out on top, and the corpse was placed on it. A rope was tied around the body; then, it was wrapped around the ankles, and a canvas bag filled with sand was attached to the end. The body was then wrapped in the canvas, and the flag of California was draped over it. The passengers gathered around the body, with their heads uncovered. The captain read a prayer, then the flag was removed, and at the signal, one end of the plank was raised, gently allowing the body to slide into its grave. We were fully under sail with an eight-knot breeze; the last bubble rose to the surface, and the wind passed sadly through the rigging, as if it were sighing a final farewell.

At 8 P.M., of the same day, another death was announced. Deceased, Mr. Cook, was a young man from Sag Harbor, where he left a wife and child. One hour after the announcement of his death, he was consigned to the grave, that had so recently opened to receive his unfortunate companion. He was buried in Lat. 20° 50´, N.

At 8 P.M. on the same day, another death was announced. The deceased, Mr. Cook, was a young man from Sag Harbor, where he left behind a wife and child. One hour after the announcement of his death, he was laid to rest in the grave that had recently opened to accept his unfortunate companion. He was buried in Lat. 20° 50´, N.

We were surrounded during the day (7th) by whales and porpoises, and during the evening, as they would pass through the “luminous animalculæ,” they would present the appearance of enormous serpents of fire. On the 8th we were visited by a terrific thunder storm, accompanied by heavy winds. We run under close-reefed topsails; and when the storm clears up we{172} find the wind dead ahead, and are obliged to run several days sharp on the wind.

We were surrounded during the day (7th) by whales and porpoises, and in the evening, as they swam through the “luminous animalculæ,” they looked like huge fiery serpents. On the 8th, we were hit by a severe thunderstorm, with strong winds. We lowered our sails to reduce the impact; and when the storm passed, we{172} found the wind directly in front of us, forcing us to sail against it for several days.

On the morning of the 14th another death was announced; the deceased, Dr. Reed, of Massachusetts, had been, for some days, conscious of his approaching end, and manifested a strong desire to have his remains conveyed to his friends. This was his last and almost only request; the fear that this might not be complied with seemed to linger with him to the last, and died only with his last pulsation. He received some encouragement from the captain, but one short hour after his death, he followed his unfortunate companions to the grave. He was buried in Lat 16° 3’ N.

On the morning of the 14th, another death was reported; the deceased, Dr. Reed from Massachusetts, had been aware of his impending passing for several days and strongly wished for his body to be sent to his friends. This was his final and almost only request; the worry that this might not happen seemed to stay with him until the very end, fading only with his last heartbeat. He received some reassurance from the captain, but just one hour after his death, he joined his unfortunate companions in the grave. He was buried at Latitude 16° 3’ N.

A report is in circulation that there are dead bodies on board. On inquiry, we learn that there are three—a man, a woman and child; they were preserved in casks of spirits, and being conveyed to the States. This created the greatest consternation in the minds of the sailors, and they unanimously resolved to leave the ship at the first port. They have a superstitious idea that vessels cannot be safely navigated with dead bodies on board. Many of the passengers were confined to their berths, some of them destined never again to leave them, until removed by death. The scurvy had appeared in its worst form, and there was nothing on board to relieve its victims. The food served out was most execrable; those in robust health were pining away, and for the invalids, there was no hope. Among the latter there were five who were deranged; they were all confined to their berths, and seemed waiting to be relieved by death. There is a physician on board, (whose father and captain Smith are sole owners of the ship), his services, however, are not at the disposition of all. The captain has flour, but pretends it does not belong to the ship, and refuses to serve it out to the passengers. He, however, offered to sell it, and two or three of us joined and bought a quantity of him, together with a quantity of sugar; all to be paid for in Panama, at Panama prices, and for all of which we never had the most distant idea of paying him a farthing. We hired the cook to prepare it for us, and thereafter were well served. With this supply, we were in a condition to invite the invalids to our table, where we could furnish them something more palatable than sea-biscuit and salt beef.{173}

A report is going around that there are dead bodies on board. When we asked about it, we found out there are three—a man, a woman, and a child; they were stored in barrels of alcohol and being transported to the States. This caused a lot of panic among the sailors, and they all decided to leave the ship at the first port. They have a superstitious belief that ships can’t be safely sailed with dead bodies on board. Many of the passengers were stuck in their beds, some of them never to leave again until they were taken away by death. The scurvy was really bad, and there was nothing on board to help those suffering from it. The food provided was terrible; even those who were healthy were wasting away, and there was no hope for the sick. Among them, five were mentally ill; they were all confined to their beds and seemed to be waiting to be freed by death. There is a doctor on board (whose father and Captain Smith are the sole owners of the ship), but his services are not available to everyone. The captain has flour, but claims it doesn’t belong to the ship and refuses to give it to the passengers. Instead, he offered to sell it, and a couple of us pooled together to buy some from him, along with some sugar; all to be paid for in Panama, at Panama prices, and for which we never had the slightest intention of paying him a cent. We hired the cook to prepare it for us, and from then on, we were well taken care of. With this supply, we were able to invite the sick to our table, where we could offer them something better than hardtack and salted beef.{173}

My attention was attracted to one of the passengers, who, upon my inquiring for Spanish books, offered me one of Spanish comedy; there was something polished in his manners, yet something wayward, which very much excited my interest. His clothes were good, still, in his helplessness, they had become extremely filthy. He commenced conversation, but soon stopped for a moment, as if trying to recollect himself; and said he believed he had entirely lost his mind, that his ideas were so incoherent, he feared he could not make himself understood. He first inquired where the ship was bound; I informed him, and asked him how he came on board. He did not know, but said he was informed that he was to be sent home; he did not know why, nor from whom he received the information. He wished me to converse with him, and try to set him right; he gave me the keys to his trunks, and wished me to open them. I found them stored with clothing of the best quality, together with a well selected library of books, mathematical instruments, and materials for drawing: everything indicating a man of refinement and education. In his writing desk I found a patriotic poem, composed and read by him, on board the ship in which he sailed for California: on the anniversary of our national independence. I also found a daguerreotype; the sight of this seemed to awaken pleasing emotions. It contained the portraits of a lady and child; these he recognized as his wife and little daughter. By the sight of these, he was at first overcome; his wife appeared natural to him, but he had not the most distant idea of the age of his little daughter; he wondered if it was of a sufficient age, when he left home, to call him father, and whether it would remember and greet him when he returned. He now realized, most painfully, the gloom that hung like a pall over his memory. The sight of the articles as I would take them out, seemed to call up others, by association. The sight of rifle and pistol-balls reminded him that he had, somewhere, a rifle and revolver, where, he did not know. I requested him to run back in his memory, if possible, to the time when he first became deranged. He said that he was attacked with the fever at Benicia, and carried on board a ship that was then lying at anchor. There were several sick on board, and during his sickness, one was brought and placed on a table in front of his berth. He{174} watched him day after day, until one night, as the light fell dimly on his pallid features, a slight convulsion passed over him, and his jaw fell. This closed the scene; from this moment his mind had been wandering in the dark labyrinths of forgetfulness. The fever had left him, and given place to that dreaded malady, the scurvy, with which he had now become reduced almost to helplessness. His feet and limbs were swollen to double their usual size, their purple hue denoting the fearful state to which his system was reduced. The name of this unfortunate man was E. W. Clark, Jr., of West Boylston, Mass. He gave me his name, and the address of his friends, at a time when he had but little hope of ever seeing them, with the request that I should write them the particulars of his death.

My attention was caught by one of the passengers who, when I asked about Spanish books, offered me one of Spanish comedy. There was something refined about his manner, yet something unpredictable that piqued my interest. His clothes were nice, but in his helplessness, they had become extremely dirty. He started to talk but soon paused, as if trying to gather his thoughts, and said he believed he had completely lost his mind, that his thoughts were so jumbled he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to express himself. He first asked where the ship was headed; I replied and asked how he got on board. He didn’t know but said he had been told he was being sent home; he had no idea why or from whom he received that information. He wanted me to talk to him and help him clarify things; he handed me the keys to his trunks and asked me to open them. I found them filled with high-quality clothing, along with a well-chosen library of books, math tools, and drawing materials—all indicating a cultured and educated man. In his writing desk, I discovered a patriotic poem that he had written and recited on board the ship while sailing to California on our national independence day. I also found a daguerreotype; seeing it seemed to stir positive feelings in him. It featured images of a woman and a child; he recognized them as his wife and little daughter. At first, he was overwhelmed by seeing them; while his wife felt familiar, he couldn’t remember how old his daughter was when he left home. He wondered if she was old enough to call him father and whether she would remember and welcome him when he returned. He painfully understood the heavy sadness that clouded his memory. As I took out various items, their appearance triggered further recollections. The sight of a rifle and bullet reminded him that he had a rifle and revolver somewhere, but he didn't know where. I asked him to try to remember when he first became unwell. He told me he had fallen ill with a fever in Benicia and had been taken aboard a ship that was anchored nearby. There were several sick people on board, and during his illness, one of them was brought and placed on a table in front of his bunk. He watched him day after day until one night, as the light dimmed over his pale face, he had a slight convulsion and his jaw dropped. That marked the end; from that moment, his mind had been lost in a dark maze of forgetfulness. The fever had passed, replaced by the dreaded scurvy, which left him nearly helpless. His feet and limbs were swollen to twice their usual size, their purple color showing how badly his body was affected. The unfortunate man's name was E. W. Clark, Jr., from West Boylston, Mass. He told me his name and the address of his friends when he had little hope of ever seeing them again, asking me to write to them about the details of his death.

On the 16th, we were surrounded by porpoises; our first mate being an old harpooner, descended into the martingale of the ship, his harpoon being attached to a rope which passed through a tackle-block above, and was manned by about thirty passengers. At the first plunge of the ship, he “let go” the harpoon, taking effect in the back of a porpoise; “haul away,” and the huge monster was swinging in the air. This was a moment of intense excitement; the harpoon had passed almost through the body, but in hauling him from the water, it had drawn out, holding only to a half-inch of the skin. One struggle and he would have been released; but the auspicious moment passed, and at the word “ease away,” he was safely shipped on our forecastle deck. His struggles now were fearful; his throes causing the very spars to tremble. He strikes another and another, both of which are safely drawn on board. He strikes a fourth, and after hauling it several feet from the water, it falls from the harpoon and rushes through the water, staining its wake with blood. We are now well supplied with fish, but of a kind not calculated to tempt the appetite.{175}

On the 16th, we were surrounded by porpoises. Our first mate, an experienced harpooner, climbed down into the rigging of the ship. His harpoon was tied to a rope that ran through a pulley above and was handled by about thirty passengers. As the ship plunged forward, he “let go” the harpoon, which struck the back of a porpoise. “Haul away,” he shouted, and the enormous creature swung in the air. It was an intense moment; the harpoon had nearly pierced through its body, but as we pulled it from the water, it slipped out and held only by a thin strip of skin. One more struggle, and it would have escaped, but the right moment passed, and when I said, “ease away,” it was safely brought onto our forecastle deck. Its thrashing was terrifying; its movements shook the very masts. It hit another porpoise, and then another, both of which we successfully pulled on board. It struck a fourth one, and after pulling it a few feet out of the water, it broke free from the harpoon and darted away, leaving a trail of blood behind. We now had a good supply of fish, though not the kind that would whet anyone's appetite.{175}

Chapter Twenty-ninth.

CLOUD AND CLIPPERTON ISLANDS—WHALES, SHARKS, PORPOISES, AND DOLPHINS—A SHARK CAPTURED—SHARK STEAK—“CAUDLE LECTURE”—DEATH OF SAMUEL B. LEWIS—A CALM—FOOT RACES BY THE SHIP’S FURNITURE—PASSENGER PECULIARITIES—SHORT OF PROVISIONS—“BOUT SHIP”—FIRST OF JANUARY—ITS LUXURIES AT SEA—A TAME SEA-FOWL—A PASSENGER DYING—A SHARK—A DELIGHTFUL EVENING SCENE—A DEATH—BURIAL AT SEA BY CANDLE LIGHT—A TURTLE NAVIGATING THE OCEAN—HIS SUSPICIOUS CONDUCT—A WRITTEN PROTEST AGAINST THE CAPTAIN—COCUS ISLAND—CAPTURING “BOOBIES.”

CLOUD AND CLIPPERTON ISLANDS—WHALES, SHARKS, PORPOISES, AND DOLPHINS—A SHARK CAUGHT—SHARK STEAK—“CAUDLE LECTURE”—DEATH OF SAMUEL B. LEWIS—A CALM—FOOT RACES BY THE SHIP’S FURNITURE—PASSENGER PECULIARITIES—SHORT OF PROVISIONS—“BOUT SHIP”—FIRST OF JANUARY—ITS LUXURIES AT SEA—A TAME SEA-FOWL—A PASSENGER DYING—A SHARK—A DELIGHTFUL EVENING SCENE—A DEATH—BURIAL AT SEA BY CANDLE LIGHT—A TURTLE NAVIGATING THE OCEAN—HIS SUSPICIOUS BEHAVIOR—A WRITTEN PROTEST AGAINST THE CAPTAIN—COCUS ISLAND—CAPTURING “BOOBIES.”

On the 17th, we passed under the lea of Cloud island—lat. 19°, long. 103°. 21st; passed Clipperton island, lat. 11°, long. 103°. The air is filled with sea-fowl; the island is a rocky pile, having the appearance of a dilapidated castle; and is surrounded by a low sandy beach. We are surrounded by whales, sharks, porpoises and dolphins; our first mate strikes a porpoise at midnight, and it is hauled on deck by the crew.

On the 17th, we sailed past Cloud Island—lat. 19°, long. 103°. On the 21st, we went by Clipperton Island, lat. 11°, long. 103°. The air is filled with seabirds; the island looks like a crumbling castle and is encircled by a low sandy beach. We're surrounded by whales, sharks, porpoises, and dolphins; our first mate catches a porpoise at midnight, and the crew pulls it up on deck.

On the 22d, the mate struck a shark; it was hauled on deck, and we had shark-steak for breakfast. All out with the captain, and the lectures he receives are only equalled by those of the amiable “Mrs. Caudle.” He finds himself wofully in the minority, and confines himself to his state-room. We not only charge the adverse winds to his account, but the destitution of the ship; of his guilt of the latter charge, the jury were unanimous.

On the 22nd, the first mate caught a shark; it was brought on deck, and we had shark steak for breakfast. Everyone is against the captain, and the lectures he gets are only matched by those of the sweet “Mrs. Caudle.” He realizes he’s really in the minority and stays in his cabin. Not only do we blame him for the unfavorable winds, but also for the ship’s lack of supplies; the jury was unanimous in their verdict on that charge.

24th. The death of Samuel B. Lewis is announced. He was buried at 9 A.M., lat. 6°-12´ north. He was from Elmira, N. Y., where he leaves a widowed mother to mourn his untimely death. On my return, I learned that subsequent to his starting for California, his father was accidently killed; the mother wrote for her son; he was her only solace; upon him she leaned for consolation; but on a dreary night, as the wind howled mournfully without, she dreamed her son returned, and as she was about to clasp him to her bosom, he shrunk from her sight and disappeared forever.{176}

24th. The death of Samuel B. Lewis is announced. He was buried at 9 A.M., latitude 6°-12' north. He was from Elmira, NY, where he leaves a widowed mother to grieve his untimely passing. Upon my return, I learned that after he left for California, his father was accidentally killed; the mother wrote for her son; he was her only source of comfort; she relied on him for solace; but on a dreary night, as the wind howled mournfully outside, she dreamed her son had returned, and just as she was about to embrace him, he faded from her sight and disappeared forever.{176}

We have a calm for several days with intense heat; a general restlessness is felt, passengers are out of patience; our ship has not sufficient headway to cause her to mind the tiller; she rolls about like a log, now plunging, throwing her sails all aback, now rising on a sea, the rigging slackens, the spars and yards creak, the sails again fill, and everything is again drawn to its utmost tension; she again plunges, reers, and rises lengthwise of a sea; she careens and is thrown almost upon her “beam-ends.” Trunks change sides, tables stand on their heads, barrels get up foot-races, much to the annoyance of the passengers, who, with shins in hand, enter most vehement protests, throwing in, an occasional oath by way of emphasis. Jack “yarns” on the forecastle, Tom has out a shark-hook; the cook has been mast-headed by the captain; T——n comes down from the shrouds with a “damn my shirt-tail to h—l,” looks at his boots and goes up again; Wright exclaims, “certingly.” Palmly looks from under his quaker hat, and swears at the captain; the Dutchman, with red whiskers, opens his mouth, which very much resembles a cavity in a brick-kiln; he looks an oath in Dutch, but don’t speak. To calm our ruffled passions we were informed that we were short of provisions, and were to be put upon allowance.

We’ve had several days of intense heat and calm; there’s a general feeling of restlessness, and the passengers are getting impatient. Our ship isn’t moving fast enough to steady the tiller; it rolls around like a log—sometimes plunging and throwing its sails back, then rising on a wave. The rigging loosens, the masts and sails creak, the sails fill up again, and everything tenses up once more. It plunges again, sways, and rises with the waves; it tilts dangerously close to rolling over. Luggage shifts sides, tables end up upside down, barrels seem to be racing, much to the irritation of the passengers, who, holding their shins, express their complaints loudly, occasionally adding a curse for emphasis. Jack is chatting on the forecastle, Tom has a shark hook out; the cook has been sent up the mast by the captain; T——n comes down from the rigging, swearing, looks at his boots, and goes back up; Wright says, “certainly.” Palmly glances out from under his Quaker hat, swearing at the captain. The Dutchman, with his red whiskers, opens his mouth, which resembles a hole in a brick kiln; he looks ready to curse in Dutch, but stays silent. To calm our frayed nerves, we were told that we were running low on supplies and would be put on rations.

On the 28th, the captain gave the order, “bout ship,” and we stood in for the main land, 550 miles distant, lat. 6°, long. 96°. On the 29th, a fine breeze springs up, we again change our course and stand east, in the direction of Panama.

On the 28th, the captain gave the order, “turn the ship around,” and we headed for the mainland, 550 miles away, lat. 6°, long. 96°. On the 29th, a nice breeze picked up, and we changed our course again, heading east toward Panama.

January 1st, 1850, lat. 6°, long. 9°; heat most oppressive; we have hard fare for breakfast, same for dinner and supper. Oh, ye knights of “Gotham!” did we not envy you? You, who are now cloyed with luxuries and greeted by the smiles of friends, but little dream that he who, twelve months ago, was your companion, has this moment dined upon sea-bread that has become the home of vermin, and beef on about the fourth anniversary of its salting, boiled in ocean-water.

January 1st, 1850, lat. 6°, long. 9°; the heat is unbearable; we have rough food for breakfast, the same for lunch and dinner. Oh, you knights of “Gotham!” don’t we envy you? You, who are now overwhelmed with luxuries and welcomed by the smiles of friends, have no idea that the person who, twelve months ago, was your companion, is now dining on sea-bread that’s infested with vermin, and beef that's nearly four years old, boiled in ocean water.

A small bird flies on board in an exhausted condition; it is quite tame and eats food from our hands. Our inquiries in reference to its home and destination, were in vain; it remained on board during the day, and seemed to appreciate our kindness.

A small bird flies on board, looking exhausted; it's pretty tame and eats food from our hands. Our questions about where it came from and where it was going were unanswered; it stayed on board during the day and seemed to enjoy our kindness.

It is rumored that one of our passengers is dying; a shark is at this moment passing under the bow of the ship, as if antici{177}pating his prey. 4th, rainy morning; it clears up at one, and we have a most delightful evening; a heavy cloud settles around the horizon, leaving us, as it were, in a lake as calm as a mirror. I never witnessed a more beautiful scene; I am, however, in no humor to enjoy it. This is our thirty-eighth day out, and the prospects most discouraging; I am over due at home, and half the journey yet to be performed.

It’s rumored that one of our passengers is dying; a shark is currently passing under the bow of the ship, as if waiting for its prey. It’s the 4th, and it’s a rainy morning; the sky clears up at one, and we have a lovely evening. A heavy cloud settles around the horizon, leaving us in a lake that’s as calm as a mirror. I’ve never seen a more beautiful scene; however, I’m not in the right mood to appreciate it. This is our thirty-eighth day out, and the outlook is quite discouraging; I’m overdue at home, and I still have half the journey left to go.

At 7 P.M. it was announced that Wm. F. Capron, of Palmyra, N. Y., was dead; he was sewed up in a canvas shroud, and thirty minutes after his death, with lights on deck, in latitude 6° 34´ N., he was consigned to the ocean.

At 7 P.M., it was announced that Wm. F. Capron from Palmyra, N.Y., had died; he was wrapped in a canvas shroud, and thirty minutes after his passing, with lights on deck, at latitude 6° 34´ N., he was laid to rest in the ocean.

5th. Delightful morning, with fine breeze. We saw a large turtle floating on the surface of the water, asleep; we lowered a boat, and pulled off for him, but he awoke, and suspecting our movements, applied his propellers with great dexterity, and diving toward the bottom he was soon out of sight. He probably hailed from Cocus Island, distant one hundred and twenty miles; his object in cruising in these waters we were unable to learn. It being Monday, it was shrewdly suspected that he had been out, on the previous night, in search of bright eyes. His being asleep in the middle of the day, and his apparent embarrassment on being discovered, were evidence upon which almost any jury would have convicted him.

5th. What a beautiful morning with a nice breeze! We spotted a large turtle floating on the water, asleep. We launched a boat and rowed over to it, but it woke up and, sensing our approach, skillfully used its fins to dive down to the bottom and quickly disappeared. It likely came from Cocus Island, which is about one hundred and twenty miles away; we couldn’t figure out why it was swimming around here. Since it was Monday, we jokingly suspected that it had been out the night before looking for shiny eyes. The fact that it was asleep in the middle of the day and seemed embarrassed when we found it would have been enough evidence for almost any jury to convict it.

6th. Calm, heat insupportable, and we are short of provisions. I have a warm conversation with the captain, and draw up a protest, have it signed by the passengers, designing to lay it before the consul at Panama.

6th. It's calm, the heat is unbearable, and we are running low on supplies. I have a heated discussion with the captain and prepare a protest, getting it signed by the passengers, planning to present it to the consul in Panama.

PROTEST.

We, the undersigned, passengers on board the ship Edward Everett, Capt. Henry Smith, do hereby most solemnly aver that we were induced to take passage on said ship by representations made by said Capt. Smith and his agents, which representations were, that he had on board an extra supply of ship-stores, and that extra provisions had been made for the comfort of passengers. For this extra provision an extra charge of $100 in the first, and $25 in the second cabin, had been made, above that of any vessel sailing from the same port for the same destination, during the present season.

We, the undersigned passengers on the ship Edward Everett, Capt. Henry Smith, hereby solemnly declare that we were persuaded to take a trip on this ship based on claims made by Capt. Smith and his agents, which were that he had an extra supply of ship supplies and that additional provisions had been arranged for the comfort of passengers. For this extra provision, an additional charge of $100 was applied for the first cabin and $25 for the second cabin, more than any other vessel departing from the same port to the same destination during this season.

The above-named Capt. Smith, through public advertisements and otherwise, called the attention of invalids particularly, to the superior arrangements made for their comfort, that a physician would be in attendance, &c.

The above-named Capt. Smith, through public ads and other means, specifically drew the attention of those who were unwell to the excellent accommodations made for their comfort, including the presence of a physician, etc.

Immediately upon getting under weigh we learned, to our sorrow, that we{178} had been grossly deceived; that the above representations were false. Our provisions, many of them, were damaged, and, we were credibly informed, were purchased as such at San Francisco. Of some of the articles that are indispensable at sea, we were short, and immediately put upon allowance.

Immediately after we set sail, we found out, to our dismay, that we{178} had been seriously misled; the claims made were untrue. Many of our supplies were damaged, and we were reliably informed they had been bought as such in San Francisco. We were also short on some essential items for the sea, so we had to go on rations right away.

Some of the passengers had made arrangements to work their passage, but upon first putting to sea were unable to do duty. The Captain called upon them in person, ordering them from their berths and on duty, threatening, in case of non-compliance, to put them ashore on the first island. Mr. Saml. B. Lewis, of Elmira, N. Y., who was working his passage as under-steward, was compelled to do duty when unable, and finally compelled to take to his berth, from which he never arose. Just previous to his death he manifested a wish to see the Captain, and said, “If I die my blood will be upon the Captain’s head.”

Some of the passengers had arranged to work their way on the ship, but when they first set sail, they were unable to do their jobs. The Captain came to talk to them personally, ordering them out of their bunks and to get to work, threatening that if they didn’t comply, he would put them ashore on the first island. Mr. Saml. B. Lewis, from Elmira, N.Y., who was working as an under-steward, was forced to work when he really couldn’t and eventually had to return to his bunk, from which he never got up again. Just before he died, he expressed a desire to see the Captain and said, “If I die, my blood will be on the Captain’s hands.”

The invalids, being compelled to live on the coarse fare of the steerage, suffered for want of nourishing food, of which the ship was entirely destitute, there not being a particle of dried fruit, preserved meats, wines, or any one of the articles thought indispensably necessary on ship-board.

The invalids, forced to survive on the low-quality food in the steerage, suffered because they lacked nourishing meals, as the ship had none. There wasn't even a bit of dried fruit, preserved meats, wines, or any of the items that are considered essential on a ship.

The physician, (whose father and Captain Smith were the owners of the ship,) paid no other attention to the sick than dealing out medicines, which he did only at the most exorbitant charges. In some instances, passengers, after having been sick for days without nourishment, were obliged to buy flour of the Captain at exorbitant prices, and cook with their own hands something to sustain life.

The doctor, whose father and Captain Smith owned the ship, didn’t really pay much attention to the sick other than giving out medications, which he only did at outrageous prices. In some cases, passengers who had been ill for days without food had no choice but to buy flour from the Captain at inflated prices and cook their own meals to stay alive.

There have been five deaths on board, during the voyage. Wm. F. Capron, of Palmyra, N. Y., we do most solemnly believe died for want of proper nourishment; and in the case of Wm. B. Lewis, we believe he was brought to a premature death, by treatment received at the hands of the Captain, together with the want of proper nourishment after his prostration.

There have been five deaths on board during the voyage. We firmly believe that Wm. F. Capron, from Palmyra, N. Y., died due to a lack of proper nourishment; and in the case of Wm. B. Lewis, we believe he faced an early death because of the treatment he received from the Captain, along with the lack of proper nourishment after he became incapacitated.

Aside from the above unheard-of conduct, Capt. Smith went to sea without a single life or quarter-boat, consequently entirely unprepared to save life in case of accident, showing a recklessness of human life in the highest degree reprehensible, which should not be passed over in silence.

Aside from the unheard-of behavior mentioned above, Capt. Smith went to sea without a single lifeboat or lifeboat, leaving him completely unprepared to save lives in case of an emergency. This disregard for human life is extremely unacceptable and should not be ignored.

We regret exceedingly that we are obliged to make the above charges against an American Captain, a class of men so justly celebrated for philanthropy and kindness; but the circumstances under which we are placed leave no alternative; and we hereby most respectfully request that our Consul at Panama will immediately enforce the law in this case, believing that a few public examples will put an end to the abuse.

We are very sorry that we have to make the above charges against an American Captain, a group of people known for their generosity and kindness; however, the situation we are in gives us no choice. We respectfully ask that our Consul in Panama immediately enforce the law in this case, as we believe that a few public examples will stop the abuse.

At Sea, January 6th, 1850, lat. 6° N., lon. 92° W., having sailed from San Francisco, 28th November, 1849.

On the Ocean, January 6th, 1850, lat. 6° N., lon. 92° W., having set sail from San Francisco on November 28th, 1849.

(Signed,)

Robt. N. Tate, First Mate of Ship Edward Everett.
z/pZ

(Signed,)

Rob N. Tate, First Mate of the ship Edward Everett.
z/pZ

J.M. Letts,	N. Y.
N. N. Rapelye,	“
J.R. Thorne,	“
J.H.R. Fairchild,	“
W. Cook,	Mo.
Wm. Tanner,	“
J. Scorbough,	“
J.H. Hess,	“
J.J. Starky,	Iowa.
R.H. Caldwell,	Ohio.
J.K. Turk,	“ {179}
D. McCully,	Iowa.
C. L. Hoag,	N. Y.
J.H. Mumby,	“
A. Riley,	“
Geo. N. Seymour,	“
Dr. Jas. Reed,	“
H. Marks,	“
S.H. Stevens,	“
J.F. Allen,	“
J. Gaffney,	N. J.
J. Pierson,	“
P. D. Elmendorf,	“
G. Sillcocke,	“
G.A. Barnes,	Ind.
J.C. Corwin,	Mo.
F. Minton,	“
B. Swart,	“
M. Z. Suzee,	“
J. Turner,	“
Z. Redwin,	“
J. Albright,	“
J.L. Simmons,	“
S.D. Baldwin,	“
B. Holt,	“
J. N. York,	“
J.N. Clauson,	Mo.
J.D. Mott,	“
R.N. Sullivan,	Mass.
J.H. Green,	“
J.H. Ficket,	“
J.R. Foster,	“
J.M. Richney,	Ill.
J. Sharp,	Ohio.
L.H. McGee,	“
S. Heath,	Me.
C. B. Castella,	Ky.
H.S. Shoudy,	“
Wm. E. Judd,	Md.
Rob Holland,	Conn.
F. P. Berken,	N. O.
H. Starkfleet,	“
J.P. Peterson,	“
J.B. Hall,	Pa.
J. Williamson,	“
S. Griffin,	Va.

7th. Pass within forty miles of Cocus Island.

8th. Indication of land; a cloud of “boobies” surround the ship, lighting on the spars and rigging; we divert ourselves by tying clubs to fishing lines, throwing them around their necks, and hauling them in. They appeared to enter into the sport with as much zeal as ourselves, for upon being released they would fly around, and seem to say, “do it again.{180}”

8th. We spotted land; a group of “boobies” surrounded the ship, landing on the masts and rigging. We entertained ourselves by tying clubs to fishing lines, tossing them around their necks, and reeling them in. They seemed to enjoy the game just as much as we did, because when we let them go, they would fly around and seem to say, “do it again.{180}”

Chapter Thirtieth.

INTENSE HEAT—HUMAN NATURE AS EXHIBITED BY THE PASSENGERS—DANGER, NOT APPREHENDED—A TATTLER—A “DUTCH JUSTICE”—“LONG TOM COFFIN”—A QUAKER HAT—AN INDIVIDUAL RUNNING WILD—HIS OATHS, DEPREDATIONS, MUSICAL ACCOMPLISHMENTS, SHOWMAN PROPENSITIES, AND PUGILISTIC DEVELOPMENTS—“BLUBBER,” BUCKSKIN, AND “THE LAST RUN OF SHAD”—A CAPSIZED WHALE-BOAT—THRILLING SENSATION—HARPOON USED—A SHARK—“LAND HO!”—GULF OF PANAMA—SOUTH AMERICAN COAST—“SAIL HO!”—DOLPHIN FOR DINNER—A WHALE—A TERRIFIC GALE—OUR SAILS AND SPARS CARRIED AWAY.

INTENSE HEAT—HUMAN NATURE AS SHOWN BY THE PASSENGERS—DANGER, NOT RECOGNIZED—A GOSSIP—A “DUTCH JUSTICE”—“LONG TOM COFFIN”—A QUAKER HAT—SOMEONE GOING CRAZY—HIS SWEARING, OUTRAGES, MUSICAL TALENTS, SHOWMAN TENDENCIES, AND FIGHTING SKILLS—“BLUBBER,” BUCKSKIN, AND “THE LAST RUN OF SHAD”—A CAPSIZED WHALE BOAT—EXCITING EXPERIENCE—HARPOON USED—A SHARK—“LAND HO!”—GULF OF PANAMA—SOUTH AMERICAN COAST—“SAIL HO!”—DOLPHIN FOR DINNER—A WHALE—A TERRIBLE STORM—OUR SAILS AND SPARS GOT TORN AWAY.

January 8th. Calm with intense heat. Our ship rolls about at the mercy of the sea, the spars creaking, and the sails displaying as little ambition as if they designed to enfold the yards in an eternal sleep. This example of tranquillity was but illy followed by the passengers; it appeared to foment their passions, bringing the evil ones to the surface. Each was disposed to demand an apology from his neighbor for wrongs either real or imaginary, (mostly of the latter;) the neighbor declaiming, in the most vehement manner, that he is the injured party.

January 8th. Chill with intense heat. Our ship rolls around, totally at the mercy of the sea, the masts creaking, and the sails showing as little energy as if they were meant to wrap the yards in eternal sleep. This moment of calm was hardly embraced by the passengers; it seemed to bring out their frustrations, revealing their darker sides. Everyone was ready to demand an apology from their neighbor for imagined slights, mostly made-up; and the neighbor passionately insisting that they were the wronged one.

What a motley group! what an exposition of the dissimilarity of human nature! Here are my friends Fairchild and Seymour, all they should be, disposed to look upon the brightest side of the picture; McG. offering $100 for the strength he once had; “he would whip that d—d Englishman,” the Englishman, at the same time, swelling and blowing about, with the pomp and glory of “Old England” flitting through his imagination, quite ignorant of his impending danger. Gates, on the alert for news for the captain’s ear, for which he gets an occasional cup of coffee, together with the universal detestation of the passengers; the “Dutch Justice” strutting about with all the pomp of brainless vanity; the professor, learned in love, law, and physic, which comprises, in his estimation, all that can be learned in this world; “Long Tom Coffin,” the very “beau ideal” of the hero himself,{181} stretched out on the quarter-deck, very much resembling a pair of oyster-tongs. He had Blackstone and Kent at his tongue’s end, and swore that, on his arrival in Maine, he would prefer a “BRIEF” for the captain’s especial edification; P——ly, sitting under a quaker hat, as forbidding in appearance as he is in fact, damning all indiscriminately who differ with him in opinion. T——n, who in attempting to relate an occurrence commences at the last word, throwing the balance on the top of it, in the most unintelligible confusion. He is about twenty-one years of age, has been well brought up, with a good education, but is now running wild. He blacks his boots and starts for mast-head; half-way up, he halts, looks at his boots, suspects that they might have received a higher polish, and with a “d—n my shirt-tail to h—l,” comes down again. He discovers some one’s can of preserved meat; he takes it to the cook, and soon some one is invited to dine with him, and if he discovers some one’s bottle of wine, some one is almost sure to get one glass of it. He had a passion for music, but generally sung in parodies, as follows:

What a wild mix of people! What a showcase of the differences in human nature! Here are my friends Fairchild and Seymour, just as they should be, inclined to see the positive side of things; McG. offering $100 for the strength he once had; “he would take down that damn Englishman,” while the Englishman himself struts around, full of the pride and glory of “Old England,” completely unaware of the trouble he’s in. Gates, eager for news for the captain, which earns him the occasional cup of coffee, but also the general dislike of the passengers; the “Dutch Justice” parading around with all the foolish arrogance; the professor, knowledgeable in love, law, and medicine, which he thinks covers everything worth knowing in the world; “Long Tom Coffin,” the perfect image of a hero, stretched out on the quarter-deck, looking a bit like a pair of oyster tongs. He knew Blackstone and Kent by heart and swore that when he got to Maine, he would prepare a “BRIEF” for the captain’s special benefit; P——ly, sitting under a Quaker hat, as unfriendly in appearance as he is in reality, condemning anyone who disagrees with him. T——n, who when trying to tell a story starts from the end, adding the rest on top in the most confusing way. He’s about twenty-one, well-brought-up, well-educated, but now acting out. He polishes his boots and starts for the mast-head; halfway up, he stops, checks his boots, thinks they might need more shine, and with a “damn my shirt-tail to hell,” comes down again. He finds someone’s can of preserved meat; he takes it to the cook, and soon someone is invited to join him for dinner, and if he finds someone’s bottle of wine, that person is almost sure to get one glass of it. He loved music but usually sang in parodies, like this:

I'm sitting on a stile, Mary,
Not knowing where to dive; I slipped and fell. And hit a stump,
Ittee bump, ittee bump, ittee bump.

almost indefinitely, closing up with “well, well, d—n my shirt-tail to h—l, d—n it to h—l,” and again starting for mast-head; he would probably reach the first yard, when a new idea, and he would be again on deck, playing superintendent of a caravan, with “John, take that little monkey from his mother, or he will suck her to death, not that I wish to disturb the animals in their innocent amusements, but by G—d the public eye must be respected; music, ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling, well, well, &c.” He is now interrupted by “Blubber,” alias “Livingston & Wells’ Express;” a short quarrel, and they square off for a fight. Blubber is backed by Buckskin, alias “the last run of shad,” and they don’t fight.

almost indefinitely, wrapping up with “well, well, damn my shirt-tail to hell, damn it to hell,” and then starting for the masthead; he would probably reach the first yard when a new idea hit him, and he’d be back on deck, acting like the supervisor of a caravan, saying “John, take that little monkey from his mother, or he’ll suck her to death, not that I want to interrupt the animals in their innocent fun, but by God the public eye must be respected; music, ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling, well, well, etc.” He is now interrupted by “Blubber,” also known as “Livingston & Wells’ Express;” a brief argument ensues, and they get ready to fight. Blubber is supported by Buckskin, also known as “the last run of shad,” and they don’t end up fighting.

We have a steward that knows his place, and another that does not deserve one on this earth; a cook who has not been accused of washing himself during the voyage, and one who appears never to have been guilty of the act. A negro who knows his{182} place and keeps it, a white man, his neighbor, assuming everybody’s place but his own; one man with no appetite, another creating a famine in his immediate neighborhood; five crazy men, fifty invalids, a penurious doctor, two mates—Tate and Barry—noblemen of nature’s own make, and a captain who was made afterwards. In one thing only were we unanimous, which was the condemnation of sailing vessels in general, and the “Everett” in particular, including her captain.

We have a steward who knows his role, and another who doesn’t deserve to be here at all; a cook who hasn’t been accused of washing himself during the trip, and one who seems to have never done it. A Black man who knows his place and sticks to it, a white man next to him, trying to take everyone’s spot but his own; one guy with no appetite, another causing a food shortage in his area; five crazy guys, fifty sick ones, a stingy doctor, two mates—Tate and Barry—who are true noblemen, and a captain who was made later on. The only thing we all agreed on was our disapproval of sailing ships in general, and the “Everett” in particular, including her captain.

11th. We discover something near the horizon resembling a capsized whale-boat. This causes a great sensation; the first mate mans the quarter-boat and pulls off for the object. The passengers watch most intently, the little craft as it rises upon the crest of a mountain-wave, and now disappearing, again rises to our view, still nearing the object in the distance. As they approach still nearer, through the ship’s glass, we see fowls rising from it, and now the mate, standing in the bow, elevates the harpoon, as if to strike. A large sea-fowl still clings to the object; as they approach still nearer, it flies. The mate throws the harpoon and soon they are returning to the ship. They pronounced the object a pine-log. They have a Dolphin and several small fish; a cry of shark, and a large one passes along the weather side, four are following astern, accompanied by their pilots. We use the harpoon, but without success.

11th. We see something near the horizon that looks like a capsized whale boat. This creates quite a stir; the first mate gets in the quarter-boat and rows out toward the object. The passengers watch closely as the small boat rises on the crest of a wave, disappears, then reappears, getting closer to the object in the distance. As they get even nearer, through the ship's binoculars, we see birds taking off from it, and now the mate, standing in the front, lifts the harpoon as if to throw it. A large sea bird still clings to the object; as they get closer, it flies away. The mate throws the harpoon, and soon they are coming back to the ship. They identify the object as a pine log. They have a dolphin and several small fish; then someone shouts "shark," and a large one swims past on the windward side, followed by four others and their pilot fish. We try to use the harpoon, but we have no luck.

12th. 4 A.M., cry of “land ho!” I dress and go on deck; we are in sight of Points Mala and Puerco, at the entrance to the gulf of Panama, 100 miles from the city. A steamer is just passing the point into the gulf; a strong wind is blowing off the land, and west and in, running close on the wind. We beat all night, and in the morning find ourselves in the same position.

12th. 4 A.M., the shout of “land ho!” wakes me up. I get dressed and head to the deck; we can see Points Mala and Puerco at the entrance of the Gulf of Panama, 100 miles from the city. A steamer is passing the point into the gulf; a strong wind is blowing from the land, heading west and coming in. We sailed all night, and by morning, we’re still in the same spot.

13th. Wind still dead ahead; after standing in and nearing the South American coast, we put about on the other tack; the wind soon “hauls,” and we stand directly for the point and soon enter the mouth of the gulf. At 4 P.M., mate cries out from mast-head, “sail ho!” “How does she bear?” “Two points off leeward bow, sir.” Delightful sunset; a school of porpoises are tumbling about in ecstasies.

13th. The wind is still directly in front of us; after staying in and getting closer to the South American coast, we changed direction. The wind quickly shifts, and we head straight for the point, soon entering the mouth of the gulf. At 4 P.M., the mate shouts from the masthead, “Sail ho!” “Where is she?” “Two points off the leeward bow, sir.” Fantastic sunset; a group of porpoises is leaping around in excitement.

14th. Pleasant morning; we are just off the inner point. A fine breeze blows off, our ship bows to the impulse, and we stand along under the lee of the land. Cry of dolphin, captain strikes{183} one with the harpoon, it struggles with the instrument, disengages itself, and disappears in the direction of the bottom; he strikes another, it is hauled safely on board and served up for dinner. A whale passes, but not sufficiently near to receive our salutation. 4 P.M., it blows a gale, captain cries out, “clue up the top-gallantsail,” “aye, aye, sir.” During the night we have a terrific gale; it carries away our jib, foretop-sail, foretop-gallantsail, maintop-staysail, and maintop-gallantsail.

14th. Nice morning; we're just off the inner point. A good breeze is blowing, our ship responds to it, and we sail along the shelter of the land. There’s a cry of dolphin, the captain strikes one with the harpoon, it struggles with the harpoon, breaks free, and disappears towards the bottom; he hits another, it’s brought safely aboard and prepared for dinner. A whale passes by, but not close enough for us to greet it. 4 P.M., it turns into a storm, the captain shouts, “clue up the top-gallantsail,” “aye, aye, sir.” During the night we face a fierce storm; it takes away our jib, foretop-sail, foretop-gallantsail, maintop-staysail, and maintop-gallantsail.

15th. The gale still continues; we are driven out of sight of land, but arrive in sight of the South American coast at 3 P.M., the Andes towering up, hiding themselves in the clouds.

15th. The storm is still going strong; we've been pushed out of sight of land, but we catch a glimpse of the South American coast at 3 P.M., with the Andes rising high, disappearing into the clouds.

16. Strong winds; we are about sixty miles from Panama, running close in shore. At evening, the kind-hearted inhabitants light beacons upon the side of the mountain, to guide us during the night. At nine we put about on the other tack, and at four in the morning were within ten minutes run of being aground.{184}

16. Strong winds; we are about sixty miles from Panama, sailing close to shore. In the evening, the kind-hearted locals light beacons on the mountainside to guide us through the night. At nine, we changed direction, and by four in the morning, we were just ten minutes away from running aground.{184}

Chapter Thirty-first.

BAY OF PANAMA—ITS BEAUTIES—TROPICAL FRUITS—THE CITY IN SIGHT—EXCITEMENT ON BOARD—APPEARANCE OF THE CITY; HER RUINS—PREPARATIONS TO DROP ANCHOR—“STAND BY”—“LET GO THE ANCHOR”—FAREWELL TO THE SICK—A PERILOUS RIDE ON THE BACK OF AN INDIVIDUAL—ON SHORE—FIRST DINNER—NOTHING LEFT—AN INDIVIDUAL FEELING COMFORTABLE—PANAMA AMERICANIZED—A MOONLIGHT SCENE VIEWED FROM A BRASS “FIFTY-SIX”—A DILAPIDATED CONVENT, AS SEEN AT NIGHT—CHURCH BELLS—BURNING THE DEAD—EXPOSURE OF THE DESECRATED REMAINS—SICKENING AND DISGUSTING SIGHT—INFANTS CAST INTO PITS—THE RESCUE OF THEIR SOULS REQUIRING A GIGANTIC EFFORT ON THE PART OF THE CHURCH—A HECTACOMB—“ETERNAL LIGHT”—IGNORANCE OF THE MASS—PEERLESS CHARACTERISTICS.

18th. We are surrounded by islands; is there another bay that will compare with this? Certainly I never imagined anything so like a fairy scene. We are in the midst of twenty islands, all covered with tropical fruits of spontaneous growth; the orange, lime, fig, and cocoa-nut trees, interlaced with the grape, forming shelter for the inhabitants, and presenting them with food. We were in a condition to appreciate, most fully, the surrounding scene. Our voyage, which had now lasted fifty-one days, was commenced under adverse circumstances; five of the passengers had already died, and several were still confined to their berths with scurvy, some of them destined to breathe their last on board.

18th. We are surrounded by islands; is there another bay that can compare to this? Honestly, I never thought I would see anything so much like a fairy tale. We're in the middle of twenty islands, all filled with tropical fruits growing wildly; orange, lime, fig, and coconut trees are intertwined with grapevines, providing shelter for the locals and offering them food. We can truly appreciate the beauty of the scene around us. Our journey, which has now lasted fifty-one days, started under difficult conditions; five of the passengers have already died, and several are still stuck in their beds with scurvy, some likely to take their last breath on board.

4 P.M. As we emerge from behind a small island, we are in fall view of Panama, the towers of her cathedral looming up, and her dilapidated wall extending along the water line; all are now in a phrensy of excitement; the passengers are climbing into the rigging, gazing with astonishment upon the surrounding scene. The wind blows fresh from the land, and we are obliged to beat up directly in its eye; we passed near Tobago in the evening, and in the morning were near our anchorage. We run up the stars and stripes, and prepare to drop anchor; our trunks are in readiness, and we expect soon to be transferred to the shore.

4 P.M. As we come out from behind a small island, we can clearly see Panama, with the towers of its cathedral rising up, and its crumbling wall stretching along the waterfront; everyone is now in a frenzy of excitement; the passengers are climbing into the rigging, staring in amazement at the scene around them. The wind blows fresh from the land, and we have to sail right into it; we passed close to Tobago in the evening, and by morning we were near our anchorage. We hoisted the stars and stripes and got ready to drop anchor; our bags are packed, and we expect to be taken to the shore soon.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS, 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. PANAMA, FROM THE BATTERY.

{185}

The city, nestling cosily at the base of Cerro Lancon, looks enchantingly, her towers and domes being lighted up by the morning sun. Her dilapidated monasteries are also seen, and her extended wall, the base of which is washed by the gentle surf. That distant tower, shrouded in ivy, dripping with the morning dew, seems weeping over the tomb of a departed city. Everything conspired to awaken emotions of the most romantic character. Our captain mounts the quarter deck and cries out, “all hands on deck to work ship.” “Aye aye, sir.” “Clue up the mainsail” “hard a-lee,” “main-topsail, haul;” “haul taut the weather main-braces;” the ship comes about on the other tack. A boat nears us, “Stand by to throw a rope;” a man comes on board; “bout ship,” “stand by the anchor,” “haul down the jib;” mate heaves the lead and cries out, “four fathom o’ the deep ho!” “fore and main-sail, clue up.” We are now standing towards the United States’ man-of-war Southampton. “Let go the mizen top-sail braces,” “stand by,” “let go the anchor,” and at 9 A.M., our ship rounded to and bowed submission to her chains. We are now at anchor five miles from shore; a fleet of bungoes are coming off for the passengers, propelled by natives in their “dishabille;” all who are able, are prepared to debark, but fourteen of our number are confined to their berths in a helpless, and almost hopeless condition; my friend Clark is one of the number; the scurvy has rendered his limbs entirely useless, and there is no hope entertained of his recovery. We bade them farewell, and started for the shore. We looked back at the ship, which now presents the trim appearance of a ship close-reefed.

The city, snugly situated at the base of Cerro Lancon, looks enchanting, with her towers and domes illuminated by the morning sun. You can also see her crumbling monasteries and her extended wall, the base of which is gently washed by the surf. That distant tower, covered in ivy and glistening with morning dew, seems to mourn over the grave of a lost city. Everything combined to stir feelings of the most romantic kind. Our captain climbs onto the quarterdeck and calls out, "All hands on deck to work the ship." "Aye aye, sir." "Clue up the mainsail." "Hard a-lee." "Main-topsail, haul!" "Haul taut the weather main-braces!" The ship comes about on the other tack. A boat approaches, "Stand by to throw a rope;" a man comes on board; "Bout ship," "Stand by the anchor," "Haul down the jib;" the mate takes soundings and shouts, "Four fathoms of deep ho!" "Fore and mainsail, clue up." We are now heading towards the United States’ man-of-war Southampton. "Let go the mizen topsail braces," "Stand by," "Let go the anchor," and at 9 A.M., our ship rounded to and bowed in submission to her chains. We are now anchored five miles from shore; a fleet of bungoes is coming for the passengers, propelled by locals in their casual wear; everyone able is ready to disembark, but fourteen of us are stuck in our berths in a helpless and almost hopeless state; my friend Clark is among them; scurvy has rendered his limbs completely useless, and there's no hope for his recovery. We said our goodbyes and set off for the shore. We looked back at the ship, which now had the neat appearance of a ship that’s closely reefed.

It being ebb-tide our boat went aground half a mile from the shore; our boatmen, however, were prepared for the emergency, it being with them an almost daily occurrence; they got out, backed up, and wished us to mount. It was to me a novel way of riding. I had ridden “bare-backed,” but always supported by a greater number of legs. After sundry stumbles and plunges, which kept my clean shirt in imminent peril, I was safely set down on shore, for which extra service my noble steed thought a real full compensation. I had my trunk carried to the Philadelphia Hotel. I drank freely of wine and went out on the balcony, which extends from the second story, to enjoy a cigar and my{186} own thoughts. I soon felt as happy as a man could well feel under the influence of the same quantity of wine. I kept my eye on the table, dinner was in an advanced state of preparation; and, dear reader, you will form some idea of the voracity of my appetite when you reflect that I have not dined in fifty-one days. I must claim your indulgence here, for I must confess I am in doubt whether I am competent to write intelligibly; just on shore, you know; and then, you know, the best of wine will sometimes lead one astray; but dinner is ready, and who cares for public opinion when he has enough to eat and drink. I sat at table as long as there was anything visible, when I, very prudently, got up, lighted a cigar and went out for a promenade. The wine was flowing briskly through my veins, and I felt a healthful glow throughout my system. I felt that politeness was the main ingredient in my composition, and was disposed to raise my hat to every individual I met. I, however, restrained myself, and bestowed my bows only upon the half-clad Señoritas.

It being low tide, our boat got stuck about half a mile from the shore; however, our boatmen were ready for this situation since it happened almost every day. They got out, backed up, and asked us to climb on. It felt like a new way of riding for me. I had ridden "bareback" before, but always with more legs supporting me. After a few tumbles and jerks that put my clean shirt at risk, I was safely brought to shore, for which my noble steed considered it a real fair trade. I had my trunk taken to the Philadelphia Hotel. I indulged in some wine and stepped out onto the balcony that stretches from the second floor to enjoy a cigar and my own thoughts. I soon felt as happy as a man could feel under the influence of that much wine. I kept an eye on the table; dinner was almost ready, and, dear reader, you can imagine how hungry I was after not dining for fifty-one days. I must ask for your understanding here, as I doubt whether I can write clearly; just having arrived on shore, you know, and the best wine can sometimes cloud one's judgment. But dinner is ready, and who cares about public opinion when there's enough to eat and drink? I stayed at the table as long as there was anything visible, then wisely got up, lit a cigar, and went out for a walk. The wine was flowing through my veins, and I felt a warm glow throughout my body. I felt that politeness was my main trait and was inclined to tip my hat to everyone I met. However, I held back and only bowed to the half-clad Señoritas.

Panama had become completely Americanized. There was the American Hotel, the New York, the Philadelphia, the United States, the St. Charles, Washington, &c., &c., and half the business in town was done by Americans. After supper, we strolled to the “Battery,” seated ourselves on a brass fifty-six, and viewed one of the most magnificent moon-light scenes I ever beheld. The bay was as placid as a mirror; the ships lying quietly at anchor, loomed up like phantoms; the islands being just visible in the distance. Behind us was a ruined monastery, the moon looking in at the roof and windows, disclosing the innumerable bats that nightly congregate to gambol through these halls of desolation. After spending an hour here, we passed through one of the dilapidated gateways and took a surf bath; we reëntered through the gateway, and passed along the wall to the convent of San Francisco, an immense structure covering an area of 300 feet square: it is now untenanted, and in ruins. Near one corner of this, standing in the street, is a stone pedestal surmounted by a cross, where the devout are wont to kneel and kiss the image of “Nuestro Señora.” Passing up the main street, “Calle de Merced,” we found the citizens all out enjoying the evening; and as we passed we could hear them modestly whisper, “Los Americanos tiene mucho oro;” during the night{187} we had the usual procession of nuns and priests, and the next day was ushered in by the discordant clamor of church-bells. I say this without reproach, for half the bells were cracked, (and it was a great wonder they were not all so,) and every morning from daylight to nine, they were undergoing the ordeal of a severe drubbing.

Panama had become completely Americanized. There were the American Hotel, the New York, the Philadelphia, the United States, the St. Charles, Washington, etc., etc., and half the business in town was done by Americans. After dinner, we strolled to the “Battery,” sat down on a brass fifty-six, and took in one of the most stunning moonlit scenes I’ve ever seen. The bay was as calm as a mirror; the ships quietly at anchor looked like ghosts; the islands were just visible in the distance. Behind us was a ruined monastery, with the moon shining in through the roof and windows, revealing the countless bats that nightly gathered to play in these halls of desolation. After spending an hour there, we went through one of the broken gateways and took a surf bath; we reentered through the gateway and walked along the wall to the convent of San Francisco, a massive structure covering an area of 300 feet square: it is now empty and in ruins. Near one corner of this, standing in the street, is a stone pedestal topped with a cross, where the faithful often kneel and kiss the image of “Nuestra Señora.” As we walked up the main street, “Calle de Merced,” we found the locals all out enjoying the evening; and as we passed, we could hear them quietly whisper, “Los Americanos tiene mucho oro;” during the night{187} we had the usual parade of nuns and priests, and the next day began with the jarring noise of church bells. I mention this without judgment, as half the bells were cracked (and it was a wonder that they weren’t all like that), and every morning from dawn to nine, they were put through the ordeal of a thorough banging.

The vaults of Panama in which the dead are deposited, are laid up in mason work, and resemble a succession of large ovens. They are under the control of the priests, and are the source of an immense revenue. Of the strange and often barbarous customs adopted by the church here, the most strange, the most inhuman and revolting, is that of burning the bodies of the dead. This diabolical practice cannot be contemplated without feelings of indignation and horror. Nations have practiced the burning of their dead in order to preserve their ashes, but this is not the object here—would that I could have learned an object so laudable—but here nothing can be said in mitigation. The word of the priest is potent, and considered by the people a mandate from Heaven. Whatever he requires is submitted to with cheerfulness, they thinking it the will of the Supreme Being. The priest requires a fee for his important intercessions for the dead, as well for the consecrated tapers that burn at the head of the corpse during the funeral services, as for a place in consecrated ground, and prayers for the soul which is supposed to linger a long and painful probation in purgatory, after the body is consigned to the tomb. The friends of the dead are obliged to pay in proportion to the services rendered. A requiem in a whisper costs but half as much as one in an audible tone of voice, and one on high “C” is still much more expensive. A place for burial in the earth, even in consecrated ground, is procured at a moderate cost, but in the vaults, above described, the charge is much higher, often beyond the means of the poorer classes. These vaults as well as the consecrated ground belong to the church, and the proceeds go into the hands of the priests. The vaults are not numerous, and are of sufficient capacity only to accommodate the deaths of a few months; but in order to serve all, the priests have hit upon the expedient of an annual “funeral pile.” “All-Saint’s day” in each year, is the one dedicated to this sacrilegious act. On that day the vaults give up their dead,{188} which are carried a short distance and committed to the flames.

The vaults in Panama where the dead are stored are made of stone and look like a series of large ovens. They are managed by the priests and generate a lot of money. Among the strange and often barbaric customs practiced by the church here, the most bizarre, inhumane, and disgusting is the practice of burning the bodies of the deceased. This horrifying act is hard to think about without feeling outrage and disgust. While some nations have burned their dead to keep their ashes, that's not the case here—if only the goal were something so noble—but here there is no justification. The priest's word is powerful and seen by the people as a command from God. Whatever he asks for is willingly given, as they believe it’s God’s will. The priest demands fees for his significant prayers for the dead, as well as for the consecrated candles that burn at the head of the body during the funeral, and for a spot in sacred ground, as well as prayers for the soul believed to endure a long, painful time in purgatory after the body is buried. The deceased's friends must pay based on the services provided. A whispered requiem costs half as much as one spoken normally, and one sung in a high “C” is even more expensive. A burial spot in the ground, even in hallowed ground, is available at a reasonable price, but in the aforementioned vaults, the cost is much higher, often out of reach for poorer families. These vaults, along with the sacred ground, belong to the church, and the money goes to the priests. The vaults are limited in number and can only hold a few months' worth of deceased, so the priests have come up with the solution of an annual “funeral pile.” “All Saints’ Day” each year is dedicated to this sacrilegious act. On that day, the vaults release their dead,{188} who are then transported a short distance and set on fire.

This act would be less revolting if done effectually, but like everything done in this country, it is but half done. Men are hired to do the work, but wood being scarce, and not expecting the priests to inspect, they do as little work as possible, keeping in view their reward. I can never forget my feelings, upon visiting this scene of annual desecration; my very soul sickens with disgust at the recollection of it. Here were coffins half-burned, exhibiting the ghastly visages of their lifeless tenants; others having turned over during the conflagration, had emptied the half-decayed bodies upon the ground; some partially consumed, others still shrouded in their grave-clothes. Here lay the head and part of the chest of a stalwart frame, the flesh having but just commenced to decay, the countenance still bearing the impress of its Maker. Very near, partially shrouded in a winding sheet, were the delicately moulded limbs of a female, who had for a brief period tenanted the house of death, now brought forth and committed to the flames.

This act would be less shocking if it were done properly, but like everything in this country, it’s only half done. Workers are hired to do the job, but since wood is scarce and they don’t expect the priests to check, they do as little work as possible, keeping their reward in mind. I can never forget my feelings from visiting this scene of yearly desecration; my very soul sickens with disgust at the memory of it. There were coffins half-burned, showing the ghastly faces of their lifeless occupants; others had flipped over during the fire, spilling out half-decayed bodies onto the ground; some were partially burned, while others were still wrapped in their burial clothes. Here lay the head and part of the chest of a strong body, the flesh just beginning to decay, the face still showing the mark of its creator. Very close by, partially wrapped in a shroud, were the delicately shaped limbs of a woman who had briefly occupied the house of death, now brought out and consigned to the flames.

It will be a consolation to those residing in the States, who have lost friends at Panama, to know that no one out of the church is allowed burial in consecrated ground; their remains, consequently, are not disturbed. According to the true theory of religion, infants that die before baptism go directly to purgatory, notwithstanding their parents may belong to the true church. As a suitable receptacle for these unfortunate little innocents, deep pits are dug in the rear of the churches, into which they are unceremoniously cast; their influence upon consecrated ground would, it is thought, be contaminating. Curiosity led me to inspect one of these pits; what I beheld I will leave to the imagination of the reader. I am not prepared to say positively, but I believe that the true theory in reference to these infants is, that they are not irrevocably lost, but to reclaim them from purgatory requires a gigantic effort on the part of the church.

It will be a comfort to those living in the States who have lost friends in Panama to know that no one outside of the church is allowed to be buried in consecrated ground; their remains, therefore, remain undisturbed. According to the true theory of religion, infants who die before baptism go directly to purgatory, even if their parents belong to the true church. As a proper resting place for these unfortunate little ones, deep pits are dug behind the churches, where they are unceremoniously placed; their presence in consecrated ground is thought to be contaminating. My curiosity led me to look into one of these pits; what I saw I will leave to the reader's imagination. I can't say for sure, but I believe that the true theory regarding these infants is that they are not irrevocably lost; however, bringing them back from purgatory requires a gigantic effort on the part of the church.

There are many things here to attract and awaken interest in the mind, but no matter how strong the desire for information, nothing can be learned from the lower classes of the population. The source of information which, in the States is inexhaustible, is here barren; for to say that a New Grenadian even knows his{189} own wife and children, is awarding him, comparatively, a very high degree of attainment. Pass and inspect the ruins of a monastery or other edifice, and ask the first person you meet what it is, and what the cause of its destruction? the invariable reply is, “no sabio, Señor.” In passing along near the head of “Calle San Juan de Dio,” my attention was attracted by the movements of a little girl who, with a lighted taper in her hand, passed rapidly along to an elbow in the main wall of the city, and leaving her light hastily retreated. Upon inspecting the spot, I discovered that part of the wall was laid up of human skulls, and removing a stone which closed up an aperture, I saw a burning taper which is kept here as an “eternal light.” I stepped into a small store near and inquired the history of this catacomb; the response was, “no sabi Señor.” My solution was that they were the bones of heroes who had fallen in the defence of the city.

There are many things here that capture attention and spark curiosity, but no matter how eager someone is for information, they can’t learn anything from the lower classes of society. The source of information that is endless in the States is barren here; because saying that a New Grenadian even knows his own wife and kids is, in comparison, granting him a very high level of knowledge. If you pass by and check the ruins of a monastery or another building and ask the first person you see what it is and how it got destroyed, the usual answer is, “no sabio, Señor.” While walking near the end of “Calle San Juan de Dios,” I noticed a little girl with a lit candle quickly moving toward a corner of the city wall, and after leaving her light, she hurried away. When I checked the spot, I found that part of the wall was made of human skulls, and when I removed a stone blocking an opening, I saw a burning candle kept there as an “eternal light.” I went into a small store nearby and asked about the history of this catacomb; the answer was, “no sabi Señor.” I concluded that they were the bones of heroes who had fallen defending the city.

When speaking of the ignorance of the people, I wish to be understood as alluding to the mass, for, in Panama, there are ladies and gentlemen of the highest cultivation and attainments, those who are endowed in the highest degree with those peerless qualities which are so pre-eminently characteristic of the Castilian race. The stranger’s friend, and friend’s protector; life itself is not a sacrifice when lost in the protection of that of a friend. The ignorance of the mass, as in all the departments of Spanish America, arises from a want of noble incentives; the entire mind being enslaved and controlled by the church.{190}

When I talk about the ignorance of the people, I want to specify that I’m referring to the general population, because in Panama, there are well-educated and accomplished individuals, those who possess the remarkable qualities that are characteristic of the Castilian heritage. The friend's ally and the protector of friends; life itself feels insignificant if it’s lost while safeguarding a friend. The ignorance of the masses, as seen in all parts of Spanish America, stems from a lack of noble incentives; their entire mindset is enslaved and controlled by the church.{190}

Chapter Thirty-second.

A NUN—FANDANGO—MARRIAGE ENGAGEMENT BROKEN—START FOR GORGONA—OUR EXTREME MODESTY—SAGACITY OF THE MULE—SLEEP ON MY TRUNK—A DREAM—AN ALLIGATOR WITH A MOUSTACHE—INFERNAL REGIONS—DEMONS—AN INDIVIDUAL WITH LONG EARS, AND A MULE IN BOOTS—FALLING OUT OF BED—FUNERAL PROCESSION—GORGONA—START FOR CHAGRES—OUR BUNGO FULL—SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION, ALMOST—“POCO TIEMPO”—LIZARDS FOR DINNER—THE HOSTESS—GATUN—MUSIC OF THE OCEAN—ARRIVAL.

A NUN—FANDANGO—ENGAGEMENT CANCELLED—DEPARTURE FOR GORGONA—OUR ULTIMATE MODESTY—WISDOM OF THE MULE—SLEEP ON MY SUITCASE—A DREAM—AN ALLIGATOR WITH A MUSTACHE—HELLISH REGIONS—DEMONS—A PERSON WITH LONG EARS, AND A MULE IN BOOTS—FALLING OUT OF BED—FUNERAL PROCESSION—GORGONA—DEPARTURE FOR CHAGRES—OUR LUGGAGE FULL—SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION, ALMOST—“POCO TIEMPO”—LIZARDS FOR DINNER—THE HOSTESS—GATUN—SOUNDS OF THE OCEAN—ARRIVAL.

There were a number of Americans in town, en route to California, awaiting the arrival of the Steamer Oregon, which was, at this time, fully due; there were also here several females from the States, unattended, on their way to the “Eldorado.” I sketched the convent of “San Francisco” and “La Mugher,” and while doing the latter I was watched by a nun whose pallid features I could plainly see through the grating.

There were several Americans in town, on their way to California, waiting for the Steamer Oregon, which was expected to arrive any moment; there were also a few women from the States, unaccompanied, heading to the “Eldorado.” I sketched the convent of “San Francisco” and “La Mugher,” and while working on the latter, I was observed by a nun whose pale features I could easily see through the grating.

During the evening we visited the “lions,” and brought up at a “fandango;” we did not, however, participate in the dance, but retired in good season, designing to set out the next morning for Gorgona. At an early hour the Philadelphia was besieged by dusky muleteers reiterating their “cargo Gorgona?” and before the sun had shown his disc above the horizon, we were under way. As we passed along Calle de Merced, I was very modestly recognized by an interesting Señorita, who, on the previous evening, had made to me a proposition of marriage; I, of course, accepted; but owing to numerous pressing engagements, I was not just then prepared to attend to it, and postponed it until the next evening. I did not tell her that I was to leave town early the next morning, nor did she suspect when I passed, that I was on my way, but looked as much as to say, “you won’t forget, will you?” As we gained the out-skirts of the city, we were hailed by half a dozen half-clad natives, who {191}demanded a real for each horse and mule in our cavalcade. We exhibited the strongest symptoms of non-compliance, and our worthy collectors were soon convinced that we were not the party they were looking for; they, however, succeeded in extorting from many, and claimed to be acting under a recent act of government.

During the evening, we visited the “lions” and ended up at a “fandango.” We didn’t join the dance, but left at a reasonable time, planning to set out the next morning for Gorgona. Early in the morning, the Philadelphia was surrounded by dark-skinned muleteers repeatedly asking, “Cargo Gorgona?” Before the sun rose, we were on our way. As we walked along Calle de Merced, an interesting Señorita modestly acknowledged me; the night before, she had proposed marriage. I accepted, of course, but due to various commitments, I wasn’t ready to follow through right then and postponed it until the next evening. I didn’t mention to her that I was leaving town early the next morning, nor did she suspect as I passed by, looking as if to say, “You won’t forget, will you?” As we reached the outskirts of the city, we were called out to by a group of half-clad locals, who {191} demanded a real for each horse and mule in our group. We showed clear signs of refusing, and our diligent collectors soon realized we were not the people they were looking for; however, they managed to extort money from many others, claiming they were acting under a recent government order.

As we arrived at the national bridge, we met a party of Señoritas wending their way towards the city; they saluted us with “buenos dias, Caballieros,” and said by their looks that they would accompany us to the States, if we wished them to. Our extreme modesty prevented our making the proposition, and we parted with a mutual “adios.” We soon entered the forest, where the gigantic palms, embracing each other, protected us from the scorching rays of the sun. Our cavalcade was made up of mules and horses, some of them mounted, others packed. Our mutual friend, J. R. Foster, whom we had expected for days to consign to the ocean, was one of our party; being mounted on a gentle horse, in an easy saddle, and buoyed up with the fond hope of again reaching home, he astonished all by his persevering endurance. The balance of the party were in good health, and enjoyed the trip exceedingly.

As we got to the national bridge, we encountered a group of young women making their way to the city; they greeted us with “good morning, gentlemen,” and their expressions suggested they would join us on our journey to the States if we wanted them to. Our overwhelming modesty held us back from suggesting it, and we parted ways with a shared “goodbye.” We soon entered the forest, where the towering palms leaned against each other, shielding us from the blazing sun. Our group consisted of both mules and horses, some of which were ridden while others were loaded. Our mutual friend, J. R. Foster, whom we had been expecting to send off to the ocean for days, was with us; he rode a gentle horse in a comfortable saddle and was uplifted by the hopeful thought of returning home, astonishing everyone with his enduring spirit. The rest of the group was healthy and thoroughly enjoyed the journey.

I was much struck, as I had often been, with the sagacity of the mule. One of them was packed with Mr. Fairchild’s trunk, and my own; feeling some interest in my trunk, I naturally paid the most attention to that particular mule; and if he could have understood any language excepting the dead ones, I should have informed him that I thought him a very fine fellow. But just as I came to this very satisfactory conclusion, he was guilty of a freak that well-nigh destroyed my confidence in him. We had gained the summit of a hill, where the path stretched away for half a mile, almost level, when mule took it into his head to run, and, to my great amazement, he did run; I presumed he was making his escape, and cried out to the muleteer to stop him, but he replied “mula caro algun per comer,” and so it proved, for after running a quarter of a mile, he stopped and commenced eating. As soon as the cavalcade came up, he again started, and kept repeating until he had satisfied his hunger, when he walked along in the most orderly manner, and good humored too, for his ears were erect, and a smile appeared to beam from his countenance. At our first watering-place, after{192} drinking, he dropped himself down, in the most mechanical manner, to rest. When we were ready to start, the “mula” of our muleteer would bring him to his hoofs, all right, and off.

I was often impressed, as I had been before, with how smart the mule was. One of them was carrying Mr. Fairchild’s trunk and mine; feeling a bit concerned about my trunk, I focused most of my attention on that particular mule. If he could have understood any language other than the dead ones, I would have told him that I thought he was a really great guy. But just as I reached this pleasing conclusion, he did something that nearly shattered my trust in him. We had just climbed to the top of a hill, where the path stretched out for half a mile, almost flat, when the mule decided to run, and, to my surprise, he actually did run. I assumed he was trying to get away and shouted to the muleteer to stop him, but he responded, “mula caro algun per comer,” and it turned out to be true because after running a quarter of a mile, he stopped and started eating. Once the rest of the group caught up, he took off again and kept running until he had satisfied his hunger, then he walked along in the most orderly and good-natured way, with his ears up and a smile on his face. At our first watering stop, after drinking, he dropped down to rest in the most mechanical way. When we were ready to leave, our muleteer's "mula" would get him back on his hooves, all set to go.

At 1 P.M., we reached the “half-way tent,” and as some of the party were behind, we resolved to put up for the night. After supper we heard a cannon, announcing the arrival of the Oregon at Panama. I stretched myself out on my trunk in the open air, and was soon unconscious of my situation. My spirit was restless, and, as if not satisfied with one trip, spent the night in passing to and fro, over the route we had traveled during the day. Now my mule would change to a monkey, and I would ride him to the top of one of the highest trees; he would then become instantly transformed into an alligator, and there would be left no alternative but to precipitate ourselves into the mud below; in the passage down I was also transformed into an alligator, and immediately found myself covered with scales and swimming about in a pond, with an alligator on each side, holding on to my moustache, “showing me up” to my fellow alligators. The honors heaped upon me so excited and elated me, that I commenced rushing through the water, and soon found myself high and dry on land, looking around for my mule. I again mounted, and resolved to have no farther connexion with either monkey or alligator, but to ride directly through to Gorgona. Again my spirit lost its way, and I found myself on the bank of one of the most sluggish and dismal streams it is possible to imagine; the recollection of it now sends a chill to my heart. My mule stood appalled with terror, and cried for mercy, when I applied the spur. There was no alternative; it lay in the route, and we must cross it; I rode back a short distance that my mule might forget his terror; he again came up, reared and plunged, and we immediately sank below the surface; we continued to sink down, down, down, a damp chilly sensation crept over me, and I became stifled with horror; now my mule blows fire and smoke from his nostrils, and a demon of the most appalling aspect, covered with green and slime, and now another and another, all dancing along, laughing most hideously and biting their fingers in derision, as they contemplate their victim. We soon reached their abode, my blood is sent curdling to my heart, and with a feeling of horror and desperation I strike{193} the spur into my mule, and with one terrific leap we pass through unscathed. The demons gave chase, but borne on the wings of fear we soon reached the other side of the earth. Here everything appears strange; my mule has but two legs, and wears boots and spurs; I have four legs, and a pair of enormous ears; I am led up to a block and mounted by his muleship, who, after lighting his cigar, applies his spurs; I determined to reach the other side by recrossing his “Satanic majestie’s” dominions, and after passing through the same horrifying scene, regained the starting point. I remounted my mule, which now seemed to have the usual number of legs, and after crossing sloughs and climbing mountains, we came to a precipice which he refused to descend. After repeated applications of the spur, he reared and plunged, and as he reached the brink of the precipice he settled back, and I passed over his head; in passing over I caught hold of his ears, which, pulling out, I was precipitated into the abyss below. The concussion awoke me, and I found that I had fallen from my trunk, and was grasping tightly the bottoms of the legs of my pantaloons.

At 1 P.M., we arrived at the “half-way tent,” and since some of the group were still behind, we decided to stay for the night. After dinner, we heard a cannon, signaling the arrival of the Oregon at Panama. I sprawled out on my trunk in the open air and quickly drifted off. My spirit felt restless, and as if not satisfied with just one journey, spent the night wandering back and forth over the route we had traveled during the day. Suddenly, my mule turned into a monkey, and I would ride him to the top of one of the tallest trees; then he would transform into an alligator, and I had no choice but to jump into the mud below. On my way down, I also morphed into an alligator and found myself covered in scales, swimming in a pond, with an alligator on each side, tugging at my mustache and “showing me off” to the other alligators. The praise I received got me so excited that I started rushing through the water and soon found myself back on dry land, looking for my mule. I got back on and vowed to have nothing to do with either the monkey or the alligator, aiming to ride directly through to Gorgona. But again my spirit lost its way, and I found myself on the bank of one of the most sluggish and dismal streams imaginable; just thinking about it now sends chills down my spine. My mule stood frozen in fear and begged for mercy as I dug in the spur. There was no choice; we had to cross it. I rode back a bit so my mule could calm down; he approached again, reared up and bucked, and we immediately sank below the surface. We kept sinking deeper and deeper, a damp, chilly sensation washing over me, and I became suffocated with horror; then my mule started blowing fire and smoke from his nostrils, and a terrifying demon, covered in green slime, appeared, followed by another, and another, all dancing around, laughing hideously and mocking me as they looked at their prey. We soon reached their lair, and my blood ran cold; with a feeling of horror and desperation, I jabbed the spur into my mule, and with one huge leap, we broke free. The demons chased us, but fueled by fear, we quickly reached the other side of the earth. Everything felt strange here; my mule now had just two legs and wore boots and spurs; I had four legs and huge ears; I was led up to a block and mounted by his muleship, who lit a cigar and applied his spurs. I decided to get to the other side by crossing back through his “Satanic majesty’s” territory, and after going through the same terrifying scene, I returned to where we started. I got back on my mule, which now had the usual number of legs, and after crossing swamps and climbing mountains, we reached a cliff he refused to go over. After trying to spur him several times, he reared and plunged, and as he got to the edge of the cliff, he pulled back, and I flew over his head; as I passed over, I grabbed onto his ears. Pulling hard, I ended up falling into the abyss below. The impact woke me up, and I found that I had fallen from my trunk, gripping tightly to the legs of my pants.

In the morning we had the satisfaction of learning that our mules had strayed, and were detained until 10 o’clock. We reached Gorgona at 4 P.M. As we were entering the town, we met a funeral procession headed by a fife and drum; the corpse borne on a bier with face uncovered, (coffins are not used,) the mother of deceased standing in the door of her dwelling, uttering the most heart-rending exclamations. The whole was accompanied by the uncouth sound of a piece of old iron hanging in the church door, serving as a bell, and at this particular time undergoing a severe castigation. Towards evening, another corpse was borne along with the same accompaniments. The deceased was a small child; its head was decorated with flowers, its face uncovered, looking the very personation of sleeping innocence.

In the morning, we were relieved to find out that our mules had wandered off and wouldn't be available until 10 o’clock. We arrived in Gorgona at 4 P.M. As we entered the town, we encountered a funeral procession led by a fife and drum. The body was carried on a bier with the face uncovered (no coffins are used), while the mother of the deceased stood in the doorway of her home, crying out in anguish. The whole scene was accompanied by the clanging of a piece of old iron hanging on the church door, serving as a bell, and at that moment, it was being hit hard. Later in the evening, another body was carried through with the same sounds. This time, it was a small child, its head adorned with flowers, its face uncovered, looking like the very embodiment of peaceful sleep.

We put up at the French Hotel, and learning that the Empire City was to remain but one day longer at Chagres, we resolved to embark early the next morning. We contracted with a native to take our party of eleven for $22, and at an early hour were en route. We glided down the river very pleasantly, propelled by three oarsmen, with our worthy captain at the helm.{194} After making two or three miles, we were brought to a dead stand on a sand-bar; our boatmen backed up, we mounted and were carried to the shore. They succeeded in getting the bungo over the shoal and we reëmbarked half a mile below.

We stayed at the French Hotel and found out that the Empire City would be at Chagres for just one more day, so we decided to set off early the next morning. We arranged for a local to take our group of eleven for $22, and we were on our way early in the morning. We cruised down the river smoothly, powered by three rowers, with our trusty captain steering the boat.{194} After traveling a couple of miles, we hit a sandbar and came to a stop; our boatmen backed up, and we got out and walked to the shore. They managed to get the boat over the shallow area, and we reboarded half a mile downstream.

It will be imagined that we had but little spare room in our craft after putting in eleven trunks, as many traveling-bags, as many pairs of blankets, and fifteen human beings. This was the case; and some of our passengers having tasted the luxury of a California life, looked upon our voyage down the river as a hardship unendurable, and censured the fellow-passenger who had made the contract. The latter worthy, feeling it an unjust imputation, gave the dissatisfied gentlemen above mentioned the privilege of taking passage in any craft that might come along. This led to personalities, and the feelings of our party were immediately in a state of ferment; brandy did not serve to allay the excitement, but seemed to add fuel, and we were on the eve of spontaneous combustion.

It can be imagined that we had very little extra space in our boat after packing in eleven trunks, as many traveling bags, a like number of blankets, and fifteen people. That was the situation; and some of our passengers, having experienced the comforts of life in California, saw our journey down the river as an unbearable struggle and criticized the fellow traveler who arranged the trip. The latter, feeling it was an unfair accusation, offered the unhappy passengers the chance to find another boat whenever one came by. This sparked personal disputes, and our group's emotions quickly became heated; brandy didn't help calm things down—in fact, it seemed to make the situation worse, and we were on the brink of an explosion.

We arrived at a rancho, where it was proposed to dine. Here commenced a dissertation on “poco tiempo,” (little time). These two words constitute almost the entire vocabulary of a native. Ask him how far it is to a rancho, “poco tiempo,” how far it is to water, “poco tiempo.” If they are employed by you, and you allow them to stop under any pretext, they never start, but are always on the point of so doing; it is “poco tiempo.”

We arrived at a ranch, where it was suggested we have dinner. This is where a discussion started about “poco tiempo” (little time). These two words make up almost the entire vocabulary of a local. Ask them how far it is to a ranch, and they’ll say, “poco tiempo.” Ask how far it is to water, and they’ll again say, “poco tiempo.” If you hire them and let them pause for any reason, they’ll never actually get going, always saying they are just about to, but it’s still “poco tiempo.”

We had contracted to be taken through by daylight, and we had no time to spare; but after dinner the crew and “el capitan” must have their “siesta.” We would urge them to start, but they were fatigued, they would start “poco tiempo.” They would “caro agua,” or “caro cognac,” and after a detention of two hours we got into the bungo and were in the act of shoving off, when they consented to come on board, and we were again under way.

We had arranged to travel during the day, and we didn’t have any time to waste; but after dinner, the crew and “el capitan” needed their “siesta.” We tried to get them to start, but they were tired and insisted they’d leave in “poco tiempo.” They went for “caro agua,” or “caro cognac,” and after a delay of two hours, we got into the bungo and were about to push off when they finally agreed to come on board, and we set off again.

I omitted our bill of fare at the above rancho. Our worthy hostess was on the shady side of forty, and surrounded by half a dozen “muchachos,” all as naked at they came into the world. Our hostess had paid a little more attention to her toilet, and seemed dressed with an express view to comfort, her entire wardrobe consisting of a pair slippers and a Panama hat. Our first dish was a stew of lizards and carna; this was served out in gourd-shells, which were held to our mouths, and the pieces of{195} meat coaxed in with our fingers. Our second and last dish was boiled eggs. Our cook should have felt complimented, for we ate and drank everything in the house, and wanted more. She looked on with astonishment at the sudden disappearance of her stew and eggs, and said to one of our boatmen, “los Americanos tiena mucho hambre;” and so we were hungry, or we could not have relished lizards even when stewed, for I must confess my predilections were never very strongly in favor of that particular species of reptile. In passing along down, we came in contact with the carcase of a large alligator; it had been pierced by several balls, and was now borne along by the current, destined, perhaps, to take up its final rest in the bosom of the Atlantic. In the afterpart of the day we were overtaken by Mr. Miller of Gorgona, who was expressing to the steamer at Chagres the arrival of the Oregon at Panama. Night overtook us in a most discordant mood, and at a great distance from our destination.

I skipped our menu at the rancho mentioned above. Our kind hostess was on the shady side of 40 and surrounded by half a dozen “muchachos,” all as naked as the day they were born. Our hostess had put a bit more thought into her appearance and seemed to be dressed for comfort, her entire outfit consisting of a pair of slippers and a Panama hat. Our first dish was a stew of lizards and carna, served in gourd-shells that were held up to our mouths, with pieces of meat coaxed in with our fingers. Our second and last dish was boiled eggs. Our cook should have felt flattered because we ate and drank everything in the house and wanted more. She looked on in astonishment at how quickly her stew and eggs disappeared and said to one of our boatmen, “los Americanos tienen mucho hambre;” and indeed we were hungry, or we wouldn’t have enjoyed lizards even when stewed, as I must admit I was never particularly fond of that specific type of reptile. As we continued on, we came across the carcass of a large alligator; it had been shot multiple times and was now being carried along by the current, destined, perhaps, to find its final resting place in the Atlantic. Later in the day, we were joined by Mr. Miller from Gorgona, who was communicating to the steamer at Chagres about the arrival of the Oregon at Panama. Night caught up with us in a very discordant mood, and we were far from our destination.

We arrived at Gatun at 9 P.M.; some were in favor of stopping, others of continuing on, the former had the majority, and we made fast to the shore, and had another dissertation on “poco tiempo,” and after an hour’s detention were again under way.

We reached Gatun at 9 P.M.; some people wanted to stop, while others wanted to keep going. The ones who wanted to stop had the majority, so we tied up at the shore and had another discussion about “poco tiempo.” After an hour of waiting, we were on our way again.

At 2 A.M., we heard the sound of drums, and our boatmen cry out “fandango;” we could soon distinguish the ocean by the halo that rose from its surface, and could plainly hear the surf as it broke upon the beach. We could see the lights on the steamer that was at anchor outside, and an occasional light dodging about on shore.

At 2 A.M., we heard the sound of drums, and our boatmen shouted "fandango." We could soon make out the ocean by the glow rising from its surface and could clearly hear the surf crashing against the beach. We could see the lights on the steamer anchored outside, and every now and then, a light moving around on shore.

At 3 A.M., we made fast to the American bank of the river, and had our baggage carried to the American Hotel. All were asleep, but we took possession of the dining-room and spread our blankets on the floor. The next morning we were all at breakfast precisely at the time and a little before.{196}

At 3 A.M., we tied up at the American side of the river and had our luggage taken to the American Hotel. Everyone was asleep, but we claimed the dining room and spread our blankets on the floor. The next morning we were all at breakfast right on time and just a bit early.{196}

Chapter Thirty-third.

CHAGRES, ITS GROWTH—GETTING ON BOARD THE EMPIRE CITY—MAGNIFICENT STEAMER—GOLD DUST ON BOARD—STEAMERS ALABAMA, FALCON, CHEROKEE, AND SEVERN—MY FRIEND CLARK ARRIVES ON BOARD—PREPARATIONS FOR STARTING—OUR STEAMER MAKES HER FIRST LEAP—“ADIOS”—CARIBBEAN SEA—HEAVY SEA ON—JAMAICA—PORT ROYAL—KINGSTON—“STEADY”—BEAUTIFUL SCENE—ORANGE GROVES—PEOPLE FLOCKING TO THE SHORE—DROP ANCHOR—THE TOWN—GENERAL SANTA ANNA’S RESIDENCE—“COALING UP”—A PARROT PEDLER IN A DILEMMA.

CHAGRES, ITS GROWTH—BOARDING THE EMPIRE CITY—A MAGNIFICENT STEAMER—GOLD DUST ON BOARD—STEAMERS ALABAMA, FALCON, CHEROKEE, AND SEVERN—MY FRIEND CLARK JOINS US—GETTING READY TO DEPART—OUR STEAMER MAKES HER FIRST MOVE—“GOODBYE”—CARIBBEAN SEA—ROUGH SEAS—JAMAICA—PORT ROYAL—KINGSTON—“HOLD STEADY”—A BEAUTIFUL SCENE—ORANGE GROVES—CROWDS GATHERING ON THE SHORE—DROPPING ANCHOR—THE TOWN—GENERAL SANTA ANNA’S HOME—“FUELING UP”—A PARROT VENDOR IN A PREDICAMENT.

Chagres had undergone a great change; the American side which had contained but one hut on my first arrival, now presented the appearance of a thriving village of substantial framed houses, and appeared a place of considerable business. (See Plate). The facilities for transportation up the river and across to Panama, were ample. Several express agencies had been established, and arrangements made on a gigantic scale for the transportation of goods up the river; several barges of the largest class, furnished with India-rubber covering to protect goods from the weather, and lighters of the greatest strength and capacity for the transmission of treasures to and from the steamers. In connection with these, there were mules stationed at Panama and Gorgona, to serve in the land transportation.

Chagres had changed a lot; the American side, which had just one hut when I first arrived, now looked like a bustling village with solid houses and seemed like a place with a lot going on. (See Plate). The options for transportation up the river and across to Panama were plentiful. Several express services had been set up, and there were huge plans in place for moving goods up the river; several large barges, equipped with rubber coverings to shield goods from the weather, as well as robust lighters for transporting treasures to and from the steamers. Alongside these, there were mules stationed in Panama and Gorgona for land transport.

After breakfast I went off to the steamer Empire City, “prospecting.” It was blowing a severe norther, and it was with much difficulty we reached the steamer, and more that we got on board of her. Iron steps were let down on the side of the steamer, and as she would roll to us, the steps would be immersed, and as she would commence to roll back, one of the passengers would stand ready and jump on. After an elevation of twenty or thirty feet, the steps would return for another passenger.

After breakfast, I made my way to the steamer Empire City, doing some “prospecting.” A strong northern wind was blowing, making it really hard for us to reach the steamer, and even harder to get on board. Iron steps were lowered on the side of the steamer, and as it rolled toward us, the steps would get submerged, then when it started to roll back, one of the passengers would be ready to jump on. After a rise of twenty or thirty feet, the steps would come back down for another passenger.

The accommodations on board were unparalleled. I immediately engaged passage and sent off for my trunk, which came on board in the afternoon, in charge of Mr. Jas. Rolfe Foster,

The accommodations on board were unmatched. I quickly booked my passage and arranged for my trunk, which arrived in the afternoon, handled by Mr. Jas. Rolfe Foster.

G. V. COOPER DEL. BROWN & SEVERIN LITH. G. W. LEWIS PRINT. CHAGRES, FROM THE CASTLE, LOOKING DOWN. 1851.

G. V. COOPER DEL. BROWN & SEVERIN LITH. G. W. LEWIS PRINT. CHAGRES, VIEW FROM THE CASTLE, LOOKING DOWN. 1851.

{197}

who shared my state-room. The Empire City is the “ne plus ultra” of steamers, and Captain Wilson worthy to command her. She is almost a world in size, furnished with the greatest magnificence, her bill of fare comprising the luxuries of all climates. The Steamers Alabama from New Orleans, and Falcon from New York, came in, in the afterpart of the day.

who shared my state-room. The Empire City is the ultimate steamer, and Captain Wilson is well-suited to lead her. She's huge, furnished with incredible luxury, and her menu features the best dishes from around the world. The steamers Alabama from New Orleans and Falcon from New York arrived later in the day.

25th. The dust by the Oregon has just arrived from Panama, and as soon as it is on board we shall up anchor. There are $1,600,000, besides what is in the hands of passengers. Bungoes are coming off with passengers, and as it is blowing a gale, the steamer rolls tremendously, making it almost impossible for passengers to board her. The greatest dexterity is required, for, after reaching the steps, one is in imminent danger of being swept off by the next sea. Ladies were drawn up in chairs, as were also the invalids. In the afterpart of the day, I had the extreme pleasure of assisting on board my friend E. W. Clark, jr., I had left him in his berth on board the Everett, in a very feeble state; but the tropical fruits had operated upon his system like magic, and he had become able to cross the Isthmus on horseback. He eventually recovered, and was restored to his friends. Mr. Lewis came on board also. He had lost the use of one of his legs, and was borne across on a litter. One of our fellow passengers on the Everett was less fortunate; he lived two days after coming to anchor, when he expired and was taken on shore at Panama, and buried.

25th. The dirt by the Oregon has just arrived from Panama, and as soon as it’s loaded, we’ll lift anchor. There’s $1,600,000, plus what the passengers have. Bungoes are coming in with passengers, and since it’s really windy, the steamer is rocking a lot, making it nearly impossible for passengers to board. It takes a lot of skill because once you reach the stairs, you risk being knocked off by the next wave. Ladies and sick passengers were lifted in chairs. Later in the day, I was really happy to help my friend E. W. Clark, jr. on board. I had left him in his berth on the Everett, feeling very weak; but the tropical fruits worked like magic, and he managed to ride across the Isthmus on horseback. He eventually got better and reunited with his friends. Mr. Lewis also came on board. He had lost the use of one of his legs and was carried across on a stretcher. One of our fellow passengers on the Everett wasn’t as lucky; he lived two days after we anchored, then passed away and was taken ashore in Panama to be buried.

26th. The British Steamer, Severn, has just come to anchor, also the Cherokee from New York. At 3 P.M., the Alabama moved off in the direction of New Orleans, crowded with passengers. The smoke is beginning to loom up from our chimney, our quarter boats are hauled up; soon the windlass draws our anchor from its bed, and our steamer raises her head, and makes her first leap for home. We passed the Cherokee and received three hearty cheers, then the Falcon, then the Severn, and were soon on our course, in the direction of Kingston, Jamaica. Chagres is situated in lat. 9°, 21´, long. 8°, 4´. We were now fairly launched, homeward bound; the waves of the Caribbean sea fleeing from us, as if fearful of being drawn into the vortex of our wheel. I remained on deck until a late hour; we had a fresh breeze and heavy sea; the moon was almost full, and{198} playing the coquette, now hiding her face, and now casting upon us one of her most bewitching smiles.

26th. The British steamer, Severn, has just anchored, along with the Cherokee from New York. At 3 P.M., the Alabama set off toward New Orleans, packed with passengers. Smoke is starting to rise from our chimney, our quarter boats are pulled up; soon the windlass pulls our anchor from its spot, and our steamer lifts its head and makes its first leap toward home. We passed the Cherokee and received three loud cheers, then the Falcon, then the Severn, and were quickly on our way toward Kingston, Jamaica. Chagres is located at lat. 9°, 21´, long. 8°, 4´. We were now definitely on our way home; the waves of the Caribbean Sea seemed to retreat from us, as if afraid of being pulled into the swirl of our wheel. I stayed on deck until late; we had a good breeze and rough seas; the moon was almost full, and{198} flirted with us, now hiding her face and now casting one of her most enchanting smiles.

27th. (Sunday). It is one year this morning since I took leave of home and sailed for California. During my absence, I have passed through what has cost many a life, and once almost felt the last pulsation. But now I am in a fair way of being restored to my friends, in improved condition and health. I have not heard one word from home in six months; my anxiety can better be imagined than expressed. I can only hope they are alive. By observation at 12 M., we are 420 miles from Kingston, the only port we shall make on our passage home.

27th. (Sunday). It’s exactly one year this morning since I left home and sailed for California. During my time away, I've gone through experiences that have cost many their lives, and I once felt like I was on the brink myself. But now, I’m on the path to being reunited with my friends, in better condition and health. I haven’t heard a word from home in six months; my anxiety is too intense to put into words. I can only hope they’re all okay. As of 12 M., we are 420 miles from Kingston, the only port we’ll make on our way back home.

28th. Still a strong wind and heavy sea. We are running under fore sails and fore staysail. By observation at 12 M., we had run 174 miles in twenty-four hours.

28th. Still a strong wind and rough seas. We are sailing with the front sails and front staysail. According to our observation at 12 M., we have covered 174 miles in the last twenty-four hours.

29th. Still a heavy sea on, and a stiff breeze. We are under a full press of canvas, running eight knots. 11 A.M., in sight of land. We soon make the highlands, and are running for Port Royal. We have a pilot already on board, he having accompanied our steamer to Chagres. Port Royal is situated on a low island in the mouth of a small bay, upon the head of which Kingston is situated. We passed an armed brig, a steamer-of-war, seventy-four gun ship, revenue-cutter, all displaying the red cross of St. George. A four-oared boat comes off towards us; our wheels are turned back, and we are boarded by an officer in full uniform. After the usual inspection, our wheels again revolved, and we moved on up the bay, or river, in the direction of Kingston. After running a mile, the above-mentioned officer is astonished at learning that our steamer is under weigh; he came forward and wished to be put on shore—stupid fellow. We are standing inland, with high mountains on our right, capped with clouds. We now pass fortifications, and bearing to the right; our pilot sings out “steady!” we are now within full view of Kingston, and heading directly for the town; “steady!” “port!” steamer falls off, bringing the town on our larboard bow—“hard a port!” on we steam—“steady!” We are now passing a large fortification; we see houses nestling in orange groves on the side of the mountain. The town is so densely shaded with cocoa-nut and other tropical trees, that it is barely visible. We are drawing very near, the inhabitants{199} are crowding to the shore. Our pilot sings out, “let go the anchor,” the wheels are reversed, and we are warping around to the dock, which is crowded with natives as black as Erebus. Our plank is soon out, and our steamer belches forth her cargo of Californians, who, in profusion of beard and hideousness of aspect, would, no doubt, have compared favorably with those earlier adventurers under Columbus, who had the honor of landing here in advance of us. We found the inhabitants extremely attentive, particularly those who had goods to sell, and they were principally Jews. We were followed by these insinuating individuals, and kindly informed that by going a half mile we could buy anything we wanted. We were at a loss to know whether we were really in want, but were very kindly informed that we were in want of everything. Oh! Chatham street, how thou hast been defamed! Certainly, Kingston instead of Chatham street, is the Jewdom of the world.

29th. The sea's still rough, and there's a strong wind. We're fully loaded and cruising at eight knots. At 11 A.M., we spot land. We soon see the highlands and are heading for Port Royal. We already have a pilot on board, who came with our steamer to Chagres. Port Royal is on a low island at the mouth of a small bay, with Kingston at the head of it. We passed an armed brig, a war steamer, a seventy-four gun ship, and a revenue cutter, all displaying the red cross of St. George. A four-oared boat comes towards us; we reverse our engines and are boarded by an officer in full uniform. After the usual inspection, we start moving again, making our way up the bay, or river, towards Kingston. A mile later, the officer is surprised to find out our steamer is under weigh; he comes forward and asks to be let off—what a silly guy. We're heading inland, with tall mountains to our right, topped with clouds. We pass some fortifications, and making a right turn; our pilot shouts “steady!” Now we're in full view of Kingston, heading straight for the town; “steady!” “port!” the steamer turns, bringing the town onto our left side—“hard a port!” and we keep steaming—“steady!” We're passing a large fortification; we see houses nestled in orange groves on the mountainside. The town is so densely covered in coconut and other tropical trees that it’s barely visible. We’re getting closer; the locals{199} are flocking to the shore. Our pilot calls out, “let go the anchor,” we reverse our engines and maneuver towards the dock, which is packed with locals as dark as night. Our plank is soon out, and our steamer releases its cargo of Californians, who, with their beards and rugged looks, would likely have compared favorably with those early adventurers under Columbus who landed here before us. We found the locals extremely attentive, especially those with things to sell, most of whom were Jews. These charming individuals followed us around, kindly informing us that a half-mile away, we could buy anything we wanted. We weren’t sure if we actually needed anything, but they assured us we were in need of everything. Oh! Chatham street, how you have been misrepresented! Kingston, instead of Chatham street, is truly the Jewdom of the world.

I had a note of introduction from Mr. Moreau, whom I met at Gorgona, to his family at Kingston. I am not prepared to say that I was in a presentable condition. As near as memory serves me, I had on a gay colored “poncho,” a slouched hat and long boots, saying nothing about the whiskers and moustache. I found an accomplished daughter, who was a good English scholar and fine pianist, and a mother who spoke nothing but French. My stay was short, but under other circumstances I should have wished a prolongation.

I had an introduction from Mr. Moreau, whom I met at Gorgona, to his family in Kingston. I can’t say I looked presentable. If I recall correctly, I was wearing a colorful poncho, a floppy hat, and long boots, not to mention my whiskers and mustache. I met a talented daughter who was a good English student and a skilled pianist, and a mother who spoke only French. My visit was brief, but under different circumstances, I would have liked to stay longer.

Many of the passengers visited General Santa Anna, whose villa was one mile from Kingston. He was living in great splendor, and was found extremely affable, speaking the English language fluently. Kingston is a town of considerable extent, the streets running at right angles, well-shaded; numerous churches and schools; the buildings generally of brick, built low to prevent disasters from hurricanes. The inhabitants are generally instructed in the rudiments of an English education, and are quite intelligent, but all complain of poverty. The island produces fruit in abundance, it hardly commands a price, excepting on the arrival of a steamer, when it is higher than in almost any market in the world. The natives have taken valuable lessons from the Jews, and appear to have acquired their peculiar business habits with the greatest facility. One of them{200}

Many of the passengers visited General Santa Anna, whose villa was one mile from Kingston. He was living in great luxury and was very friendly, speaking English fluently. Kingston is a fairly large town, with streets that run at right angles and are well-shaded; there are numerous churches and schools; the buildings are mostly made of brick and are low to avoid damage from hurricanes. The residents are generally taught the basics of an English education and are quite intelligent, but everyone complains about poverty. The island produces a lot of fruit, but it barely sells for a good price, except when a steamer arrives, at which point the prices are higher than in almost any market in the world. The locals have learned valuable lessons from the Jews and seem to have picked up their unique business habits with ease. One of them{200}

had a quantity of shells, for which he demanded $25, but immediately fell $20, and I think would have taken two.

had a bunch of shells, for which he asked for $25, but quickly dropped it to $20, and I believe he would have accepted $15.

During the afternoon the Cherokee came in and commenced coaling up. This delicate duty is performed by the colored girls of the place, and the modus operandi is as novel as it is laborious. Some fifty girls are engaged, each with a vessel resembling a half barrel, holding sixty pounds of coal; this, when filled, is placed upon the head and carried up the gang-plank to the deck. As laborious as this duty may seem, it is performed with the greatest alacrity, accompanied by songs, dancing, and peals of laughter. (See Plate). The belle of the party, luxuriating in the name of “Flouncy,” is seen on the deck, dressed in a pink muslin, flounced almost to the waist. She is in the act of taking one of those extraordinary steps for which the colored population are justly celebrated. The mate seems to have taken in charge a small specimen of humanity who pertinaciously insists upon coming on board to sell parrots. He is now receiving a “dose of sprouts,” and will go off, no doubt, with a pair of stogys vividly impressed upon his imagination. A colored gentleman is seen laying against the wheel house counting the tubs as they are borne along by the “Bloomer”-clad girls; near him stands an individual who looks very like a returning Californian. A party of ladies and gentlemen are promenading the upper deck. Cocoa-nut trees with fruit are seen, with a range of mountains in the background. Boats with fruit, cactus, shells, parrots, &c., are being rowed about to tempt the passengers.

In the afternoon, the Cherokee arrived and started taking on coal. This delicate job is done by the local Black girls, and the process is as unique as it is hard work. About fifty girls are involved, each using a container that looks like a half barrel, holding sixty pounds of coal. Once filled, they place it on their heads and carry it up the gangplank to the deck. Despite how tough this task might seem, they do it with great enthusiasm, singing, dancing, and laughing. (See Plate). The standout of the group, proudly named “Flouncy,” can be seen on the deck wearing a pink muslin dress, flounced almost to her waist. She's in the middle of performing one of those impressive dance steps for which the Black community is renowned. The mate appears to be managing a small person who stubbornly insists on coming aboard to sell parrots. He is currently getting a “dose of sprouts” and will likely leave with a pair of stogies firmly planted in his memory. A Black gentleman is leaning against the wheelhouse, counting the tubs as they are carried by the girls dressed in “Bloomer” outfits; nearby stands a man who looks very much like someone returning from California. A group of ladies and gentlemen are strolling on the upper deck. Cocoanut trees with fruit are visible, along with a mountain range in the background. Boats filled with fruit, cactus, shells, parrots, etc., are being rowed around to entice the passengers.

G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH OF G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. COALEING UP KINGSTON, JAMAICA.

{201}

Chapter Thirty-fourth.

OUR WHEELS REVOLVE—THE NATIVES OF THE ISLAND EXTINCT—THE WRONGS THEY HAVE SUFFERED—THE ISLAND ONCE A PARADISE—SAN DOMINGO, HER MOUNTAINS—CUBA—A SHOWER BATH GRATIS—“SAIL HO!”—CAYCUS ISLAND AND PASSAGE—TURTLE FOR DINNER—A SERMON—GALLANT CONDUCT OF OUR STEAMER—WE SHIP A SEA—A SPANISH VESSEL IN DISTRESS—OUR TILLER CHAINS GIVE WAY—A KNIFE AND FORK IN SEARCH OF MINCE PIES—GULF STREAM—WATER-SPOUTS—“LIGHT SHIP”—SANDY HOOK—ANXIETY—SIGHT OF NEW YORK—FEELINGS AND CONDITION OF THE PASSENGERS—A SAD FATE—AGROUND—A NEW PILOT—AGAIN UNDER WEIGH—NEAR THE DOCK—A DEATH—MAN OVERBOARD—MAKE FAST—AT HOME—ONE WORD TO THOSE ABOUT TO EMBARK.

OUR WHEELS TURN—THE ISLAND’S INHABITANTS ARE GONE—THE WRONGS THEY ENDURED—THE ISLAND ONCE A PARADISE—SAN DOMINGO, ITS MOUNTAINS—CUBA—A FREE SHOWER—“SAIL HO!”—CAYCUS ISLAND AND THE PASSAGE—TURTLE FOR DINNER—A SERMON—THE BRAVE PERFORMANCE OF OUR STEAMER—WE HIT A WAVE—A SPANISH VESSEL IN TROUBLE—OUR TILLER CHAINS BREAK—A KNIFE AND FORK LOOKING FOR MINCE PIES—GULF STREAM—WATER SPOUTS—“LIGHT SHIP”—SANDY HOOK—ANXIETY—SIGHT OF NEW YORK—FEELINGS AND STATE OF THE PASSENGERS—A SOMBER FATE—AGROUND—A NEW PILOT—BACK UNDERWAY—NEAR THE DOCK—A DEATH—MAN OVERBOARD—MAKE FAST—HOME—A WORD TO THOSE ABOUT TO EMBARK.

Jan. 30th. We finish taking in provisions, coal, and water, and at 1 P.M., let go our hawser, our wheels revolve, and we are again under weigh, heading out to sea. We take a hearty dinner while yet in the bay, but there is a tremendous sea outside, and many will be obliged to pay tribute to Neptune. This is a delightful island, but it is changed from the paradise Columbus found it. Of the once happy, but now grossly abused natives, I saw but two, and am told they are almost extinct. What a sad commentary upon the law that “might makes right.” What tenure could have been more perfect than that by which the native held this island. It was bequeathed to their forefathers by the Creator, and transmitted from father to son; but a stranger visited them, and they mistook him for a messenger from the Great Spirit, a visitor from the clouds. They worshipped the stranger, invited him to their groves and pleasure grounds, and gave him bread and wine. But alas! they have embraced the viper. The stranger taking advantage of the confidence they, in their simplicity, reposed, smites them with a ruthless hand, and hunts them down like wild beasts, until the last son, goaded to desperation, severs the cord of life and goes to meet the spirit of his fathers on the great “hunting ground.” The nation sinks into oblivion, while that of their ruthless invader is emblazoned{202} upon every tablet, and the leader in this act of infamy sleeps in triumph under an imposing cenotaph. Why does the sympathy of nations sleep while there still exists a remnant of this truly noble, but down-trodden people. As we reach the ocean we take a more easterly course, and are brought in full view of the light-house, which is on the extreme point of the island; we pass this point at 9 P.M., when we take a more northerly course, and stand directly for Cuba and the Caycus passage, designing to make, also, the western point of Hispaniola. We have a severe gale, but our steamer rides it out most gallantly.

Jan. 30th. We finish loading up on supplies, coal, and water, and at 1 P.M., we let go of our mooring lines, our wheels start turning, and we're off to sea again. We enjoy a hearty dinner while still in the bay, but there’s a huge swell outside, and many will probably get seasick. This island is beautiful, but it has changed from the paradise that Columbus discovered. I only saw two of the once-happy, now terribly mistreated natives, and I'm told they are nearly extinct. What a sad reflection on the idea that “might makes right.” What better claim could there be than the one the natives had to this island? It was given to their ancestors by the Creator and passed down from father to son. But then a stranger arrived, and they mistook him for a messenger from the Great Spirit, a visitor from the skies. They worshiped the stranger, invited him to their sacred places, and offered him food and drink. But sadly, they embraced the enemy. The stranger took advantage of their trust and attacked them ruthlessly, hunting them down like wild animals. In desperation, the last son took his own life to join the spirits of his fathers on the great “hunting ground.” The nation fades into obscurity, while the name of their merciless invader is etched{202} on every memorial, and the orchestrator of this betrayal rests in glory beneath an imposing monument. Why does the compassion of nations remain silent while a remnant of this truly noble yet oppressed people still exists? As we reach the ocean, we take a more easterly route, coming into full view of the lighthouse at the far end of the island; we pass this point at 9 P.M., then change to a northerly course, heading straight for Cuba and the Caycus passage, intending to also reach the western point of Hispaniola. We’re facing a fierce storm, but our steamer handles it with great bravery.

31st. (Morning). We are in sight of Hispaniola, Hayti, or San Domingo, by all of which names it has been known at different times; her mountains looming up several thousand feet above the horizon. The sea is calm, our run pleasant; Cuba now appears off our larboard bow, about forty miles distant. It is indicated by heavy clouds, at the base of which, or just above the horizon, is seen the dark outline of her mountains. The mountains within the tropics are universally capped with clouds, which, in floating over, are caught by the peaks, and there waste away, the diminution supplied by the condensation of vapor, or the addition of other clouds. During the evening, a heavy sea broke against the side of the steamer, bursting our port fastening, and shooting a column of water eight inches in diameter, directly into the berth of my room-mate. It will readily be imagined that he awoke. We have just passed point St. Nicholas, the northwest point of St. Domingo, and point Mayxi, the most easterly point of Cuba.

31st. (Morning). We can see Hispaniola, Hayti, or San Domingo, as it has been known at different times, with its mountains rising several thousand feet above the horizon. The sea is calm, and our journey is nice; Cuba is now visible off our left side, about forty miles away. It's marked by heavy clouds, under which, or just above the horizon, the dark outline of its mountains can be seen. The mountains in the tropics are always covered with clouds, which get caught by the peaks as they float over, and then fade away, with their loss being replaced by condensed vapor or other clouds. Last night, a heavy wave crashed against the side of the steamer, breaking our port fastening and shooting a column of water eight inches wide directly into the berth of my roommate. You can imagine that he woke up. We have just passed Point St. Nicholas, the northwest point of St. Domingo, and Point Mayxi, the easternmost point of Cuba.

Feb. 1st. A ship is seen, “hull down,” off our larboard quarter; no land in sight, a heavy sea, and we are standing directly for the Caycus Islands, which we shall make about sunset.

Feb. 1st. A ship is spotted, “hull down,” off our left side; no land in sight, a rough sea, and we are heading straight for the Caycus Islands, which we should reach around sunset.

2nd. We have made the Caycus passage, left the Caribbean Sea, and are now in the Atlantic, heading north by west, making a direct course for New York. We cross the tropic of Cancer at a quarter to 9 A.M. We have now nothing to do but promenade, sit in our state-rooms, and read, eat, sleep, and think of home. We have about 300 passengers on board. We have live sheep, poultry in abundance, and some twenty huge turtles, weighing from two to three hundred pounds each, some of each falling{203} daily victims to our voracious appetites. One little turtle which looked as though he had been taken from his native island, much against his will, was thrust into a barrel, and there compelled to lay on his back. As I passed, I thought he eyed me with solicitation, and I requested one of the firemen to turn him over. This he did, much to the poor creature’s apparent satisfaction. I relieved his pangs for the moment, and shall probably help devour him for dinner. Mr. Foster and myself had supplied ourselves liberally with oranges, pine-apples, limes, “forbidden fruit,” bananas, &c., and spent much of our time in feasting. According to observation at 12 M., we were 920 miles from New York; we have made, in twenty-four hours, 214 miles, and are now under a full press of canvas.

2nd. We’ve passed through the Caycus passage, left the Caribbean Sea, and are now in the Atlantic, heading north by west, on a direct route to New York. We cross the Tropic of Cancer at a quarter to 9 A.M. Now, we have nothing to do but stroll around, relax in our cabins, read, eat, sleep, and think about home. There are about 300 passengers on board. We have live sheep, plenty of poultry, and around twenty huge turtles, each weighing between two and three hundred pounds, some of which fall{203} daily to our huge appetites. One little turtle, looking as if he had been taken from his home against his will, was shoved into a barrel and forced to lie on his back. As I walked by, I thought he looked at me pleadingly, so I asked one of the firemen to turn him over. He did, much to the poor creature’s apparent relief. I eased his discomfort for the moment and will probably help eat him for dinner later. Mr. Foster and I stocked up on oranges, pineapples, limes, “forbidden fruit,” bananas, etc., and spent much of our time feasting. According to our observations at 12 M., we were 920 miles from New York; we covered 214 miles in twenty-four hours and are now under full sail.

3rd. (Sunday). We have a sermon by an English clergyman, from Kingston. By observation at 12 M., we had made 234 miles in twenty-four hours. We have a strong wind, and very heavy sea; boxes and barrels are running foot races on deck, it rains in torrents, hatches are closed down, but our ship rides gallantly. She rises manfully from the strife, shakes off the spray, and again leaps upon her antagonist.

3rd. (Sunday). We have a sermon by an English clergyman from Kingston. According to our observation at 12 M., we’ve traveled 234 miles in the last twenty-four hours. There’s a strong wind and a really rough sea; boxes and barrels are sliding around on deck, it’s pouring rain, the hatches are closed tight, but our ship is handling it like a champ. She bravely rises above the waves, shakes off the spray, and keeps charging ahead against the storm.

4th. Stormy unpleasant day. We are now off the coast of the Carolinas, in the gulf-stream. The wind blows cold off the land, reminding us of winter. Three days ago we were picking oranges and limes, the thermometer at 105°. Oh! anthracite coal! I most earnestly implore thy protection. While at dinner, we shipped a sea, which burst through the windows, putting out the lights, carrying every dish from the table, and saturating the entire company. The captain who, with a party of ladies, was sitting at the head of the table, claimed the most liberal instalment. At half past 2 P.M., a vessel appears, and bears down for us, running before the wind. She proves a Spanish bark; her rudder has been carried away, a spar is lashed on in its place, by which they are trying to manage her. She has up a foresail and spanker, and hoists a signal of distress. It is blowing a gale, raining in torrents, and the sea running mountain high. Our quarter boats could not live an instant, rendering it impossible to assist them. As they passed near us, we saw two men on the foretop-gallant yard. At 6 P.M., our tiller chains gave way, the steamer is thrown around into the troughs,{204} and rolls so that it is impossible to keep footing on deck. The table, which has just been spread for supper, is swept of every dish: the cold beef chases the vegetables around the saloon, as if death could not dissipate the force of habit; the mustard and vinegar cruets, impelled by the same instinct, gave chase to the beef, and after a protracted run, brought up at my state-room door, entirely exhausted. The most amusing trial of speed took place between a knife and fork and a mince-pie; the latter lost its cap, or I think it would have won the race. Our chains are soon repaired, and we head on our course. It is dark, and we see nothing more of the last sail; wine circulates freely; our steamer seems intoxicated, and many of her passengers are down with the same complaint.

4th. It’s a stormy and unpleasant day. We are now off the coast of the Carolinas, in the Gulf Stream. The wind is blowing cold from the land, reminding us of winter. Just three days ago, we were picking oranges and limes with the temperature at 105°. Oh! anthracite coal! I earnestly beg for your protection. During dinner, a wave came crashing in through the windows, putting out the lights, sweeping all the dishes off the table, and soaking everyone. The captain, who was sitting at the head of the table with a group of ladies, took the worst of it. At 2:30 P.M., a vessel appeared, approaching us with the wind at its back. It turned out to be a Spanish bark; they had lost their rudder and were trying to steer with a spar tied in its place. They had a foresail and a spanker up, and hoisted a distress signal. It was blowing a gale, raining heavily, and the sea was as high as mountains. Our lifeboats wouldn’t survive for a second, making it impossible to help them. As they passed us, we saw two men on the foretop-gallant yard. At 6 P.M., our tiller chains snapped, and the steamer was thrown around into the troughs, rolling so violently that we couldn’t keep our footing on deck. The table set for supper was swept clear of all dishes: cold beef rolled around the saloon, chased by the vegetables, as if it couldn't let go of its routine; the mustard and vinegar, driven by the same instinct, followed the beef and ended up at my state-room door, completely exhausted. The funniest race happened between a knife and fork and a mince pie; the pie lost its cap, or I think it would have won. Our chains were quickly repaired, and we resumed our course. It’s dark now, and we can’t see the last sail anymore; wine is being served freely; our steamer feels like it’s drunk, and many of its passengers are feeling the same way.

5th. Cold unpleasant morning; a heavy sea on. The wind blowing against the current of the gulf-stream, causes a spray, which rises in columns and seems to congeal in the air. We are in close proximity to several water-spouts, seeming the connecting links between the ocean and the clouds. We are under twenty-one inches of steam, but no canvas, the wind having been dead ahead for the past two days.

5th. It’s a cold and uncomfortable morning; the sea is rough. The wind is blowing against the current of the Gulf Stream, creating spray that rises in columns and looks like it’s freezing in mid-air. We're really close to a few waterspouts, which seem to connect the ocean to the clouds. We're running with twenty-one inches of steam, but no sails up, as the wind has been directly against us for the last two days.

6th. Clear and cold; five sails in sight; ocean as smooth as a mirror. We fall in with a Delaware pilot, who reports us one hundred miles from New York. An exclamation of joy burst from the passengers, who are now all on deck. At 9 A.M., we saw the smoke of a steamer off our larboard quarter; ten sail in sight; the ocean presents a most sublime spectacle, not a breath disturbs its repose; as if jaded by prolonged agitation, it has relapsed into a quiet slumber. We are in sight of the light-ship off Delaware Bay; a pilot comes on board; Sandy Hook is in sight; the Jersey shore stretching away to the left, but just seen above the horizon. We passed Sandy Hook light-house, twenty-five miles from New York, at 7 P.M. As night draws her curtain round, we see looming up from the horizon, directly in our course, a halo of light, indicating the locality of the city. All are prepared to land, each, for the time being, absorbed in his own thoughts. What a diversity; the countenance of each portraying in vivid colors the hopes and fears within. Here, seated by one of the main pipes, is an emaciated form, clothed in rags; the head is reclining on the hand, the eye sunken, the{205} visage ghastly, and now the whole frame writhes under a most distressing cough. A few short months have done their work. One year ago, a stalwart, robust, enterprising man, full of life and enthusiasm, left his wife and children to seek his fortune in a distant land. He reached his destination, and struggled hard, his prospects alternating between hope and fear; still he struggled on until at last he discovered that some lurking disease was undermining his constitution. The approach was gradual, but it did its work. The victim borrowed money and sailed for home. He is before me. He is destined to clasp to his bosom, once more, his wife and children, but in one short week is borne to a neighboring church yard.

6th. Clear and cold; five sails in sight; the ocean is as smooth as a mirror. We meet a Delaware pilot, who tells us we're one hundred miles from New York. A cheer of joy erupts from the passengers, who are all now on deck. At 9 A.M., we see the smoke of a steamer off our left side; ten sails in sight; the ocean presents a stunning view, not a single breath disturbs its calm; after being restless for so long, it has fallen into a peaceful slumber. We can see the lightship off Delaware Bay; a pilot comes on board; Sandy Hook comes into view; the Jersey shore stretches away to the left, just visible above the horizon. We pass the Sandy Hook lighthouse, twenty-five miles from New York, at 7 P.M.. As night draws near, we see a glow on the horizon, directly in our path, signaling the city. Everyone is ready to land, each lost in their own thoughts for the moment. What a mix of emotions; each face reflecting their hopes and fears. Here, sitting by one of the main pipes, is a frail figure dressed in rags; the head rests on a hand, the eyes are sunken, the{205} face is ghostly, and now the whole body is wracked with a painful cough. A few short months have taken their toll. A year ago, a strong, healthy, ambitious man, full of life and energy, left his wife and kids to seek his fortune in a far-off land. He reached his destination and fought hard, his prospects shifting between hope and fear; still, he pressed on until he eventually realized that an insidious illness was eating away at his health. The onset was slow, but it did its damage. The man borrowed money and sailed home. He is in front of me now. He is about to embrace his wife and children once more, but in just one short week, he will be taken to a nearby cemetery.

This is the history and fate of more than one of our passengers; we, however, have many on board who are returning with robust constitutions and well-filled purses. Their countenances are lighted up with the fond anticipation of soon being restored to those whose greeting smile and warm embrace will heal the laceration of the past.

This is the history and fate of more than one of our passengers; we, however, have many on board who are returning with strong health and well-filled wallets. Their faces are brightened with the hopeful expectation of soon being reunited with those whose welcoming smiles and warm hugs will mend the scars of the past.

The excitement runs high; there is a prospect of reaching our dock by 10 o’clock. As we approach the Narrows, our steamer suddenly slackens her pace, and we hear a cry of “aground.” Our pilot has run us upon the shoals of Coney Island; the wheels are reversed, but we are fast; the lead is thrown with a cry of “three fathoms o’ the deep ho!” We can plainly see the light of the city looming up from the horizon, but the chances are against us. A new pilot comes on board, who points out the channel; our wheels are reversed, our tiller put hard down, and after several efforts, we are afloat, with the loss of part of our keel. As we pass through the Narrows, our pilot hands us the morning papers, containing a detail of the Hague street disaster. The city is now in sight, and we are steaming along with lightning speed; anxiety most intense. We near our pier, which we find much obstructed by ice; small boats attempt to come off for our hawser, but we are obliged to steam over toward Jersey City and come up again; this time we succeed, and as we are nearing the dock, the death of one of the passengers is announced. He was the last of a party of six that had embarked for, and I believe the only one of the party who{206} lived to reach California. He lost his health soon after his arrival there, and died upon reaching his native shore.

The excitement is high; we might reach our dock by 10 o’clock. As we get close to the Narrows, our steamboat suddenly slows down, and we hear someone shout “aground.” Our pilot has run us onto the shallow waters near Coney Island; the engines are reversed, but we’re stuck; the depth is measured with a shout of “three fathoms o’ the deep ho!” We can clearly see the city lights on the horizon, but our chances aren’t great. A new pilot comes aboard and shows us the channel; we reverse the engines, turn the tiller hard down, and after several attempts, we’re afloat, though we've lost part of our keel. As we go through the Narrows, our pilot hands us the morning papers, which detail the Hague street disaster. The city is now visible, and we’re moving at lightning speed; the anxiety is intense. We approach our pier, which is heavily blocked by ice; small boats try to come out for our rope, but we have to move toward Jersey City and come back again; this time we succeed, and just as we reach the dock, the death of one of the passengers is announced. He was the last of a group of six who set off for California, and I believe he’s the only one from that group who{206} made it there. He lost his health soon after arriving and died upon returning to his home.

As the steamer was being warped around, a passenger in attempting to jump to the pier, missed it, and fell through the mass of floating ice below. He soon gained the surface, but, uttering the most heart-rending screams, again disappeared. He was eventually rescued, and I jumped for the pier with better success, and stepping into a hack, was rapidly driven in the direction of Broadway. It is now midnight. Thirteen months have elapsed since I left, and for the last six, I have not had the least intelligence from home. My feelings can better be imagined than described, as I pulled the bell at No. 3 Warren street.

As the steamboat was being maneuvered around, a passenger tried to jump to the pier but missed and fell into the floating ice below. He quickly surfaced but, letting out the most agonizing screams, vanished again. He was eventually rescued, and I managed to jump to the pier successfully. I got into a cab and was soon being driven towards Broadway. It’s now midnight. Thirteen months have passed since I left, and for the last six months, I've received no news from home. My feelings are better imagined than described as I rang the bell at No. 3 Warren Street.

One word to those about to embark for California. Take the least possible amount of baggage, in a trunk of the smallest possible size. As no one can anticipate the circumstances under which they may be placed there, nor the wants of a life in California; it is recommended to buy nothing here, as purchases can be made much more judiciously in San Francisco, and other towns in California, and at about as fair rates, at the same time saving the trouble and expense of transportation. The transit charges, by the Nicaragua route, are fifteen cents per pound; this is invariably extra, even if one has a transit passage-ticket, which are issued at a charge of about $25. A limited amount of baggage is taken down the Atlantic and up the Pacific free, but not across. Passengers taking the Panama route, are now landed at Aspinwall (Navy Bay), thence by railroad to Miller’s Station, saving thirty miles of river travel; thence in a row-boat to Gorgona, where mules are stationed in abundance to transport to Panama, twenty-five miles distant. Passengers are landed on the dock at Aspinwall, free of charge, the transit charges being about the same as by the Nicaragua route.{207}

One word for those about to head to California: pack as lightly as possible, using the smallest trunk you can find. Since no one can predict the situations they might face or what they'll need while living in California, it's best to buy nothing here. You'll be able to make purchases much more wisely in San Francisco and other California towns, often at similar prices, and you'll save the hassle and cost of shipping. Transit fees via the Nicaragua route are fifteen cents per pound; this fee is always extra, even if you have a transit passage ticket, which costs about $25. A limited amount of luggage can be transported down the Atlantic and up the Pacific for free, but not across. Passengers using the Panama route now arrive at Aspinwall (Navy Bay) and then travel by train to Miller’s Station, which cuts out thirty miles of river travel. From there, they take a rowboat to Gorgona, where plenty of mules are available to transport them the twenty-five miles to Panama. Passengers are dropped off at the dock in Aspinwall at no charge, with transit costs being about the same as the Nicaragua route.{207}

Constitution of the State of California.

PROCLAMATION TO THE PEOPLE OF CALIFORNIA.

The delegates of the people, assembled in Convention, have formed a Constitution, which is now presented for your ratification. The time and manner of voting on this Constitution, and of holding the first general election, are clearly set forth in the schedule. The whole subject is, therefore, left for your unbiassed and deliberate consideration.

The representatives of the people, gathered in Convention, have created a Constitution, which is now ready for your approval. The timing and way of voting on this Constitution, along with holding the first general election, are clearly outlined in the schedule. The entire matter is, therefore, open for your fair and thoughtful consideration.

The Prefect (or person exercising the functions of that office) of each district, will designate the places for opening the polls, and give due notice of the election, in accordance with the provisions of the Constitution and schedule.

The Prefect (or whoever is taking on that role) of each district will choose the locations for opening the polls and will properly announce the election, following the rules set by the Constitution and the schedule.

The people are now called upon to form a government for themselves, and to designate such officers as they desire, to make and execute the laws. That their choice may be wisely made, and that the government so organized may secure the permanent welfare and happiness of the people of the new State, is the sincere and earnest wish of the present Executive, who, if the Constitution be ratified, will, with pleasure, surrender his powers to whomsoever the people may designate as his successor.

The people are now asked to create a government for themselves and to choose the officials they want to make and enforce the laws. It is the genuine and heartfelt hope of the current Executive that their choice will be made wisely and that the government formed will ensure the lasting welfare and happiness of the people in the new State. If the Constitution is approved, the Executive will gladly hand over his powers to whoever the people choose as his successor.

Given at Monterey, California, this 12th day of October, A. D., 1849.

Given at Monterey, California, this 12th day of October, 1849.

(Signed) B. RILEY,
Brevet Brig. General, U. S. A., and Governor of California.
(Official) H. W. HALLECK,
Brevet Captain and Secretary of State.

(Signed) B. RILEY,
Brevet Brigadier General, U.S. Army, and Governor of California.
(Official) H.W. Halleck,
Brevet Captain and Secretary of State.

We, the People of California, grateful to Almighty God for our freedom, in order to secure its blessings, do establish this Constitution:

We, the People of California, thankful to God for our freedom, to protect its blessings, establish this Constitution:

ARTICLE I.

Article I.

DECLARATION OF RIGHTS.

Bill of Rights.

Sec. 1. All men are by nature free and independent, and have certain inalienable rights, among which are those of enjoying and defending life and liberty, acquiring, possessing, and protecting property, and pursuing and obtaining safety and happiness.

Sec. 1. All people are naturally free and independent, and they have certain rights that cannot be taken away. These include the right to enjoy and defend their life and freedom, to acquire, own, and protect property, and to seek and achieve safety and happiness.

Sec. 2. All political power is inherent in the people. Government is instituted for the protection, security, and benefit of the people; and they have the right to alter or reform the same, whenever the public good may require it.

Section 2. All political power belongs to the people. The government is established to protect, secure, and benefit the people; they have the right to change or improve it whenever the public good demands it.

Sec. 3. The right of trial by jury shall be secured to all, and remain invio{208}late forever; but a jury trial may be waived by the parties, in all civil cases, in the manner to be prescribed by law.

Sec. 3. Everyone has the right to a jury trial, which will always be protected; however, in all civil cases, the parties can choose to waive this right in a way that the law specifies.

Sec. 4. The free exercise and enjoyment of religious profession and worship, without discrimination or preference, shall forever be allowed in this State; and no person shall be rendered incompetent to be a witness on account of his opinions on matters of religious belief; but the liberty of conscience, hereby secured, shall not be so construed as to excuse acts of licentiousness, or justify practices inconsistent with the peace or safety of this State.

Sec. 4. The free practice and enjoyment of religious beliefs and worship, without discrimination or favoritism, will always be allowed in this State; and no one will be deemed unfit to be a witness because of their opinions on religious matters; however, the freedom of conscience granted here will not be interpreted as a reason to excuse immoral actions or justify practices that threaten the peace or safety of this State.

Sec. 5. The privilege of the writ of habeas corpus shall not be suspended, unless when, in cases of rebellion or invasion, the public safety may require its suspension.

Sec. 5. The right to the writ of habeas corpus cannot be suspended, except in cases of rebellion or invasion when public safety may demand its suspension.

Sec. 6. Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor shall cruel or unusual punishments be inflicted, nor shall witnesses be unreasonably detained.

Sec. 6. No excessive bail shall be required, no excessive fines imposed, no cruel or unusual punishments inflicted, and no witnesses shall be unreasonably held.

Sec. 7. All persons shall be bailable by sufficient sureties: unless for capital offences, when the proof is evident, or the presumption great.

Sec. 7. Everyone has the right to bail with sufficient guarantees, except for serious crimes where the evidence is clear or the suspicion is strong.

Sec. 8. No person shall be held to answer for a capital or otherwise infamous crime (except in cases of impeachment, and in cases of militia when in actual service, and the land and naval forces in time of war, or which this State may keep with the consent of Congress in time of peace, and in cases of petit larceny under the regulation of the Legislature,) unless on presentment or indictment of a grand jury; and in any trial in any court whatever, the party accused shall be allowed to appear and defend in person and with counsel, as in civil actions. No person shall be subject to be twice put in jeopardy for the same offence; nor shall he be compelled, in any criminal case, to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use without just compensation.

Sec. 8. No one can be forced to answer for a serious crime or an infamous crime (except in cases of impeachment, when the militia is on active duty, and for the land and naval forces during wartime, or when this State has them with Congress's approval in peacetime, and in cases of petty theft as regulated by the Legislature) unless a grand jury presents or indicts them; and in any trial in any court, the accused has the right to appear and defend themselves in person and with a lawyer, just like in civil cases. No one can be tried twice for the same offense; nor can they be forced to testify against themselves in any criminal case; nor can they be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law; nor can private property be taken for public use without fair compensation.

Sec. 9. Every citizen may freely speak, write, and publish his sentiments on all subjects, being responsible for the abuse of that right; and no law shall be passed to restrain or abridge the liberty of speech or of the press. In all criminal prosecutions on indictments for libels, the truth may be given in evidence to the jury; and if it shall appear to the jury that the matter charged as libellous is true, and was published with good motives and for justifiable ends, the party shall be acquitted: and the jury shall have the right to determine the law and the fact.

Sec. 9. Every citizen has the right to freely speak, write, and publish their opinions on any topic, while being responsible for any misuse of that right; and no law can be made to limit or reduce the freedom of speech or the press. In any criminal cases involving libel charges, the truth can be presented as evidence to the jury; if the jury finds that the alleged libelous content is true and was published with good intentions and for valid reasons, the accused will be acquitted: and the jury has the authority to determine both the law and the facts.

Sec. 10. The people shall have the right freely to assemble together, to consult for the common good, to instruct their representatives, and to petition the legislature for redress of grievances.

Sec. 10. The people have the right to gather freely, discuss the common good, instruct their representatives, and petition the legislature for help with their complaints.

Sec. 11. All laws of a general nature shall have a uniform operation.

Sec. 11. All laws of a general nature will operate consistently.

Sec. 12. The military shall be subordinate to the civil power. No standing army shall be kept up by this State in time of peace; and in time of war no appropriation for a standing army shall be for a longer time than two years.

Sec. 12. The military must answer to civilian authority. This State will not maintain a standing army during peacetime; and during wartime, funding for a standing army shall not exceed two years.

Sec. 13. No soldier shall, in time of peace, be quartered in any house, without the consent of the owner; nor in time of war, except in the manner to be prescribed by law.{209}

Sec. 13. No soldier shall be housed in any home during peacetime without the owner's consent; nor during wartime, except in the way that the law specifies.{209}

Sec. 14. Representation shall be apportioned according to population.

Sec. 14. Representation will be divided based on population.

Sec. 15. No person shall be imprisoned for debt, in any civil action on mesne or final process, unless in cases of fraud; and no person shall be imprisoned for a militia fine in time of peace.

Sec. 15. No one can be jailed for debt in any civil action, whether it's an interim or final process, except in cases of fraud; and no one can be jailed for a militia fine during peacetime.

Sec. 16. No bill of attainder, ex post facto law, or law impairing the obligation of contracts, shall ever be passed.

Sec. 16. No law that punishes someone without a trial, a retroactive law, or a law that undermines the obligations of contracts shall ever be enacted.

Sec. 17. Foreigners who are, or who may hereafter become, bona fide residents of this State, shall enjoy the same rights in respect to the possession, enjoyment and inheritance of property, as native born citizens.

Sec. 17. Foreigners who are, or who may later become, bona fide residents of this State will have the same rights regarding the possession, enjoyment, and inheritance of property as native-born citizens.

Sec. 18. Neither slavery, nor involuntary servitude, unless for the punishment of crimes, shall ever be tolerated in this State.

Sec. 18. Neither slavery nor forced labor, except as a punishment for crimes, will ever be allowed in this State.

Sec. 19. The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable seizures and searches, shall not be violated; and no warrant shall issue but on probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons and things to be seized.

Sec. 19. The people's right to be safe in their bodies, homes, documents, and belongings from unreasonable searches and seizures shall not be violated; no warrant shall be issued except based on probable cause, supported by an oath or affirmation, specifically describing the location to be searched, and the people and items to be seized.

Sec. 20. Treason against the State shall consist only in levying war against it, adhering to its enemies, or giving them aid and comfort. No person shall be convicted of treason, unless on the evidence of two witnesses to the same overt act, or confession in open court.

Sec. 20. Treason against the State is defined as waging war against it, supporting its enemies, or providing them with assistance and comfort. No one can be convicted of treason unless there are two witnesses to the same overt act, or there is a confession made in open court.

Sec. 21. This enumeration of rights shall not be construed to impair or deny others retained by the people.

Sec. 21. This list of rights should not be interpreted as diminishing or denying other rights kept by the people.

ARTICLE II.

RIGHT OF SUFFRAGE.

Voting Rights.

Sec. 1. Every white male citizen of the United States, and every white male citizen of Mexico, who shall have elected to become a citizen of the United States, under the treaty of peace exchanged and ratified at Queretaro, on the 30th day of May, 1848, of the age of twenty-one years, who shall have been a resident of the State six months next preceding the election, and the county or district in which he claims his vote thirty days, shall be entitled to vote at all elections which are now or hereafter may be authorized by law: Provided, that nothing herein contained shall be construed to prevent the Legislature, by a two-thirds concurrent vote, from admitting to the right of suffrage, Indians or the descendants of Indians, in such special cases as such a proportion of the legislative body may deem just and proper.

Sec. 1. Every white male citizen of the United States, and every white male citizen of Mexico who has chosen to become a citizen of the United States under the peace treaty exchanged and ratified in Queretaro on May 30, 1848, who is at least twenty-one years old, has lived in the state for six months before the election, and has been a resident of the county or district where he wants to vote for thirty days, is entitled to vote in all elections that are currently or will be authorized by law. However, this does not stop the Legislature, with a two-thirds concurrent vote, from granting the right to vote to Indians or their descendants in specific cases that the legislative body considers fair and appropriate.

Sec. 2. Electors shall, on all cases except treason, felony, or breach of the peace, be privileged from arrest on the days of the election, during their attendance at such election, going to and returning therefrom.

Sec. 2. Electors are protected from arrest on election days, except for cases of treason, felony, or breach of the peace, while they are attending the election, traveling to it, and returning from it.

Sec. 3. No elector shall be obliged to perform militia duty on the day of election, except in time of war or public danger.

Sec. 3. No voter is required to do military duty on the day of the election, except during wartime or public emergencies.

Sec. 4. For the purpose of voting, no person shall be deemed to have gained or lost a residence by reason of his presence or absence while employed in the service of the United States; nor while engaged in the navigation of the waters of this State, or of the United States, or of the high seas; nor while a student of any seminary of learning; nor while kept at any almshouse,{210} or other asylum, at public expense; nor while confined in any public prison.

Sec. 4. For voting purposes, no one will be considered to have gained or lost their residence simply because they are present or absent while serving in the United States military; while navigating the waters of this State, the United States, or international waters; while studying at any educational institution; while staying in any public-funded shelter,{210} or any other facility funded by the government; or while incarcerated in any public prison.

Sec. 5. No idiot or insane person, or person convicted of any infamous crime, shall be entitled to the privileges of an elector.

Sec. 5. No person who is mentally incapacitated, insane, or has been convicted of a serious crime shall be allowed to vote.

Sec. 6. All elections by the people shall be by ballot.

Sec. 6. All elections by the people will be conducted by ballot.

ARTICLE III.

DISTRIBUTION OF POWERS.

Separation of Powers.

The powers of the government of the State of California shall be divided into three separate departments: the Legislature, the Executive, and Judicial; and no person charged with the exercise of powers properly belonging to one of these departments, shall exercise any functions appertaining to either of the others; except in the cases hereinafter expressly directed or permitted.

The powers of the government of the State of California will be divided into three separate departments: the Legislature, the Executive, and the Judicial. No one assigned to carry out the responsibilities of one of these departments shall take on any functions related to the others, except in the cases specified or allowed below.

ARTICLE IV.

LEGISLATIVE DEPARTMENT.

LEGISLATIVE BRANCH.

Sec. 1. The legislative power of this State shall be vested in a Senate and Assembly, which shall be designated the Legislature of the State of California, and the enacting clause of every law shall be as follows: “The people of the State of California, represented in Senate and Assembly, do enact as follows.”

Sec. 1. The legislative power of this State will be held by a Senate and Assembly, which will be called the Legislature of the State of California, and the wording for every law will be as follows: “The people of the State of California, represented in Senate and Assembly, enact the following.”

Sec. 2. The sessions of the Legislature shall be annual, and shall commence on the first Monday of January, next ensuing the election of its members; unless the Governor of the State shall, in the interim, convene the Legislature by proclamation.

Sec. 2. The Legislature will meet every year, starting on the first Monday of January following the election of its members, unless the Governor of the State calls a special session by proclamation in the meantime.

Sec. 3. The members of the Assembly shall be chosen annually, by the qualified electors of their respective districts, on the Tuesday next after the first Monday in November, unless otherwise ordered by the Legislature, and their term of office shall be one year.

Sec. 3. The members of the Assembly will be elected every year by the eligible voters in their respective districts on the Tuesday after the first Monday in November, unless the Legislature decides otherwise, and they will serve a term of one year.

Sec. 4. Senators and members of Assembly shall be duly qualified electors in the respective counties and districts which they represent.

Sec. 4. Senators and Assembly members must be registered voters in the counties and districts they represent.

Sec. 5. Senators shall be chosen for the term of two years, at the same time and places as members of Assembly; and no person shall be a member of the Senate or Assembly, who has not been a citizen and inhabitant of the State one year, and of the county or district for which he shall be chosen, six months next before his election.

Sec. 5. Senators will serve a two-year term, elected at the same time and in the same places as Assembly members. No one can be a member of the Senate or Assembly unless they have been a citizen and resident of the State for at least one year and of the county or district they represent for the six months leading up to their election.

Sec. 6. The number of Senators shall not be less than one-third, nor more than one-half of that of the members of Assembly; and at the first session of the Legislature after this Constitution takes effect, the Senators shall be divided by lot as equally as may be, into two classes; the seats of the Senators of the first class shall be vacated at the expiration of the first year, so that one-half shall be chosen annually.

Sec. 6. The number of Senators will be no less than one-third and no more than one-half of the total members of the Assembly; at the first session of the Legislature after this Constitution goes into effect, the Senators will be randomly divided as evenly as possible into two groups. The seats of the first group of Senators will be vacated at the end of the first year, allowing for half of them to be elected each year.

Sec. 7. When the number of Senators is increased, they shall be apportioned by lot, so as to keep the two classes as nearly equal in number as possible.

Sec. 7. When the number of Senators increases, they will be divided by lot to keep the two groups as close to equal in number as possible.

Sec. 8. Each house shall choose its own officers, and judge of the qualifications, elections, and returns of its own members.

Sec. 8. Each house will select its own officials and determine the qualifications, elections, and results of its own members.

Sec. 9. A majority of each house shall constitute a quorum to do business;{211} but a smaller number may adjourn from day to day, and may compel the attendance of absent members, in such manner, and under such penalties as each house may provide.

Sec. 9. A majority of each house is required to conduct business;{211} however, a smaller number can adjourn from day to day and can require the attendance of absent members, in the way and under the penalties that each house decides.

Sec. 10. Each house shall determine the rules of its own proceedings, and may with the concurrence of two-thirds of all the members elected, expel a member.

Sec. 10. Each house will set the guidelines for its own procedures and can, with the agreement of two-thirds of all elected members, expel a member.

Sec. 11. Each house shall keep a journal of its own proceedings, and publish the same; and the yeas and nays of the members of either house, on any question, shall, at the desire of any three members present, be entered on the journal.

Sec. 11. Each house must keep a record of its own activities and publish it; the votes for and against by the members of either house on any issue shall be recorded in the journal if requested by any three members present.

Sec. 12. Members of the Legislature shall, in all cases except treason, felony, and breach of the peace, be privileged from arrest, and they shall not be subject to any civil process during the session of the Legislature, nor for fifteen days next before the commencement and after the termination of each session.

Sec. 12. Members of the Legislature shall be protected from arrest in all cases except treason, felony, and breach of the peace. They will not be subject to any civil proceedings during the Legislature's session, nor for fifteen days before and after each session.

Sec. 13. When vacancies occur in either house, the Governor, or the person exercising the functions of the Governor, shall issue writs of election to fill such vacancies.

Sec. 13. When there are vacancies in either house, the Governor, or the person acting as Governor, will issue election orders to fill those vacancies.

Sec. 14. The doors of each house shall be open, except on such occasions as in the opinion of the house may require secrecy.

Sec. 14. The doors of each house must be open, except on occasions when the house feels that secrecy is necessary.

Sec. 15. Neither house shall, without the consent of the other, adjourn for more than three days, nor to any other place than that in which they may be sitting.

Sec. 15. Neither house can adjourn for more than three days or move to a different location without the other house's consent.

Sec. 16. Any bill may originate in either house of the Legislature, and all bills passed by one house may be amended in the other.

Sec. 16. Any bill can start in either house of the Legislature, and all bills that are approved by one house can be modified in the other.

Sec. 17. Every bill which may have passed the Legislature, shall, before it becomes a law, be presented to the Governor. If he approve it, he shall sign it; but if not, he shall return it, with his objections, to the house in which it originated, which shall enter the same upon the journal, and proceed to reconsider it. If, after such reconsideration, it again pass both houses, by yeas and nays, by a majority of two-thirds of the members of each house present, it shall become a law, notwithstanding the Governor’s objections. If any bill shall not be returned within ten days after it shall have been presented to him, (Sunday excepted,) the same shall be a law, in like manner as if he had signed it, unless the Legislature, by adjournment, prevent such return.

Sec. 17. Every bill that passes the Legislature must be presented to the Governor before it can become a law. If he approves it, he will sign it; if not, he will return it along with his objections to the house where it originated, which will then record it in the journal and reconsider it. If, after this reconsideration, it passes both houses again by a majority of two-thirds of the members present, it will become law, despite the Governor’s objections. If the Governor doesn’t return any bill within ten days after it has been presented to him (except Sundays), it will automatically become law as if he had signed it, unless the Legislature has adjourned, preventing the return.

Sec. 18. The Assembly shall have the sole power of impeachment; and all impeachments shall be tried by the Senate. When sitting for that purpose, the Senators shall be upon oath or affirmation; and no person shall be convicted without the concurrence of two-thirds of the members present.

Sec. 18. The Assembly has the exclusive authority to impeach; all impeachments will be tried by the Senate. When the Senate is in session for this purpose, the Senators will take an oath or affirmation; no one can be convicted without the agreement of two-thirds of the members present.

Sec. 19. The Governor, Lieutenant Governor, Secretary of State, Comptroller, Treasurer, Attorney General, Surveyor General, Justices of the Supreme Court and Judges of the District Courts, shall be liable to impeachment for any misdemeanor in office; but judgment in such cases shall extend only to removal from office, and disqualification to hold any office of honor, trust, or profit, under the State; but the party convicted, or acquitted, shall nevertheless be liable to indictment, trial and punishment, according to law. All{212} other civil officers shall be tried for misdemeanors in office, in such manner as the Legislature may provide.

Sec. 19. The Governor, Lieutenant Governor, Secretary of State, Comptroller, Treasurer, Attorney General, Surveyor General, Justices of the Supreme Court, and Judges of the District Courts can be impeached for any misconduct while in office. However, the consequences of such impeachments will be limited to removal from office and disqualification from holding any position of honor, trust, or profit within the State. The person who is convicted or acquitted will still be subject to indictment, trial, and punishment as per the law. All{212} other civil officers will be tried for misconduct in office in whatever manner the Legislature determines.

Sec. 20. No Senator or member of Assembly shall, during the term for which he shall have been elected, be appointed to any civil office of profit, under this State, which shall have been created, or the emoluments of which shall have been increased, during such term, except such office as may be filled by elections by the people.

Sec. 20. No Senator or Assembly member can be appointed to any paid civil office in this State during their elected term if that office was created or its pay was raised during that term, except for positions that are filled by elections held by the people.

Sec. 21. No person holding any lucrative office under the United States, or any other power, shall be eligible to any civil office of profit, under this State; provided, that officers in the militia, to which there is attached no annual salary, or local officers and postmasters whose compensation does not exceed five hundred dollars per annum, shall not be deemed lucrative.

Sec. 21. No one holding a well-paid position with the United States or any other authority can be eligible for any paid civil office in this State; however, militia officers who do not receive an annual salary, as well as local officials and postmasters whose pay is less than five hundred dollars a year, will not be considered well-paid.

Sec. 22. No person who shall be convicted of the embezzlement or defalcation of the public funds of this State, shall ever be eligible to any office of honor, trust, or profit, under the State; and the Legislature shall, as soon as practicable, pass a law providing for the punishment of such embezzlement, or defalcation, as a felony.

Sec. 22. Anyone convicted of stealing or misusing the public funds of this State will never be eligible for any office of honor, trust, or profit under the State; and the Legislature shall, as soon as possible, enact a law that punishes such theft or misuse as a felony.

Sec. 23. No money shall be drawn from the Treasury but in consequence of appropriations made by law. An accurate statement of the receipts and expenditures of the public moneys shall be attached to, and published with, the laws, at every regular session of the Legislature.

Sec. 23. No money will be taken from the Treasury unless it has been approved by law. A detailed report of the income and spending of public funds will be included with and published alongside the laws during each regular session of the Legislature.

Sec. 24. The members of the Legislature shall receive for their services, a compensation to be fixed by law, and paid out of the public treasury; but no increase of the compensation shall take effect during the term for which the members of either house shall have been elected.

Sec. 24. The members of the Legislature will receive payment for their services, which will be determined by law and drawn from the public treasury; however, any increase in payment cannot take effect during the term for which the members of either house have been elected.

Sec. 25. Every law enacted by the Legislature, shall embrace but one object, and that shall be expressed in the title: and no law shall be revised, or amended, by reference to its title; but in such case, the act revised, or section amended, shall be re-enacted and published at length.

Sec. 25. Every law passed by the Legislature must focus on just one subject, which should be stated in the title. No law can be revised or amended by just referring to its title; instead, the revised law or amended section must be re-enacted and published in full.

Sec. 26. No divorce shall be granted by the Legislature.

Sec. 26. No divorce will be approved by the Legislature.

Sec. 27. No lottery shall be authorized by this State, nor shall the sale of lottery tickets be allowed.

Sec. 27. No lottery will be allowed by this State, and the sale of lottery tickets is prohibited.

Sec. 28. The enumeration of the inhabitants of this State shall be taken, under the direction of the Legislature, in the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty-two, and one thousand eight hundred and fifty-five, and at the end of every ten years thereafter; and these enumerations, together with the census that may be taken, under the direction of the Congress of the United States, in the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty, and every subsequent ten years, shall serve as the basis of representation in both houses of the Legislature.

Sec. 28. The counting of the people in this State will be done, under the guidance of the Legislature, in the years 1852 and 1855, and every ten years after that; and these counts, along with the census conducted under the direction of the United States Congress in 1850 and every following ten years, will be used as the basis for representation in both houses of the Legislature.

Sec. 29. The number of Senators and members of Assembly, shall, at the first session of the Legislature, holden after the enumerations herein provided for are made, be fixed by the Legislature, and apportioned among the several counties and districts to be established by law, according to the number of white inhabitants. The number of members of Assembly shall not be less than twenty-four, nor more than thirty-six, until the number of inhabitants{213} within this State shall amount to one hundred thousand; and after that period, at such ratio that the whole number of members of Assembly shall never be less than thirty, nor more than eighty.

Sec. 29. The number of Senators and Assembly members will be set by the Legislature at the first session after the required population counts are completed. This number will be distributed among the counties and districts established by law, based on the number of white residents. There will be at least twenty-four Assembly members and no more than thirty-six until the population of this State reaches one hundred thousand. After that, the ratio will ensure that the total number of Assembly members is never fewer than thirty and never more than eighty.

Sec. 30. When a congressional, senatorial, or assembly district, shall be composed of two or more counties, it shall not be separated by any county belonging to another district; and no county shall be divided, in forming a congressional, senatorial, or assembly district.

Sec. 30. When a congressional, senatorial, or assembly district consists of two or more counties, it cannot be separated by a county that belongs to a different district; and no county can be split when creating a congressional, senatorial, or assembly district.

Sec. 31. Corporations may be formed under general laws, but shall not be created by special act, except for municipal purposes. All general laws and special acts passed pursuant to this section may be altered from time to time, or repealed.

Sec. 31. Corporations can be established under general laws, but they can't be created by special act, except for city-related purposes. All general laws and special acts passed under this section can be changed or canceled over time.

Sec. 32. Dues from corporations shall be secured by such individual liability of the corporators, and other means, as may be prescribed by law.

Sec. 32. Debts owed by corporations will be backed by the personal liability of the shareholders and any other methods as specified by law.

Sec. 33. The term corporations, as used in this article, shall be construed to include all associations and joint-stock companies, having any of the powers or privileges of corporations not possessed by individuals or partnerships. And all corporations shall have the right to sue, and shall be subject to be sued, in all courts, in like cases as natural persons.

Sec. 33. The term corporations, as used in this article, includes all associations and joint-stock companies that have any powers or privileges of corporations that individuals or partnerships do not have. All corporations will have the right to sue and can be sued in all courts, just like natural persons.

Sec. 34. The Legislature shall have no power to pass any act granting any charter for banking purposes; but associations may be formed under general laws, for the deposit of gold and silver; but no such association shall make, issue, or put in circulation, any bill, check, tickets, certificate, promissory note, or other paper, or the paper of any bank, to circulate as money.

Sec. 34. The Legislature doesn't have the authority to create any laws that give out charters for banking purposes. However, groups can be formed under general laws for the purpose of depositing gold and silver. But no such group is allowed to create, issue, or circulate any bills, checks, tickets, certificates, promissory notes, or any other forms of paper, including any bank paper, for use as money.

Sec. 35. The Legislature of this State shall prohibit, by law, any person or persons, association, company, or corporation, from exercising the privileges of banking, or creating paper to circulate as money.

Sec. 35. The Legislature of this State shall make it illegal for any individual, group, company, or corporation to engage in banking activities or to create paper intended to be used as money.

Sec. 36. Each stockholder of a corporation, or joint-stock association, shall be individually and personally liable for his proportion of all its debts and liabilities.

Sec. 36. Each shareholder of a corporation, or joint-stock association, will be personally responsible for their share of all its debts and liabilities.

Sec. 37. It shall be the duty of the Legislature to provide for the organization of cities and incorporated villages, and to restrict their power of taxation, assessment, borrowing money, contracting debts, and loaning their credit, so as to prevent abuses in assessments, and in contracting debts by such municipal corporations.

Sec. 37. It is the responsibility of the Legislature to establish the structure of cities and incorporated villages, and to limit their authority regarding taxation, assessments, borrowing money, taking on debt, and lending their credit, in order to prevent misuse in assessments and in accumulating debt by these municipal corporations.

Sec. 38. In all elections by the Legislature, the members thereof shall vote viva voce, and the votes shall be entered on the journal.

Sec. 38. In all elections by the Legislature, the members will vote aloud, and the votes will be recorded in the journal.

ARTICLE V.

EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENT.

EXECUTIVE BRANCH.

Sec. 1. The supreme executive power of this State shall be vested in a chief magistrate, who shall be styled the Governor of the State of California.

Sec. 1. The highest executive power of this State will be held by a chief official, who will be known as the Governor of the State of California.

Sec. 2. The Governor shall be elected by the qualified electors, at the time and places of voting for members of Assembly, and shall hold his office two years from the time of his installation, and until his successor shall be qualified.

Sec. 2. The Governor will be elected by the qualified voters during the election for Assembly members and will serve a two-year term starting from the time of their swearing-in, until their successor is qualified.

Sec. 3. No person shall be eligible to the office of Governor, (except at the{214} first election,) who has not been a citizen of the United States and a resident of this State two years next preceding the election, and attained the age of twenty-five years at the time of said election.

Sec. 3. No one shall be eligible for the office of Governor, (except at the{214} first election,) unless they have been a citizen of the United States and a resident of this State for two years before the election, and have reached the age of twenty-five at the time of the election.

Sec. 4. The returns of every election for Governor shall be sealed up and transmitted to the seat of government, directed to the Speaker of the Assembly, who shall, during the first week of the session, open and publish them in presence of both houses of the legislature. The person having the highest number of votes shall be Governor; but in case any two or more have an equal and the highest number of votes, the Legislature shall, by joint-vote of both houses, choose one of said persons, so having an equal and the highest number of votes, for Governor.

Sec. 4. The results of every election for Governor shall be sealed and sent to the seat of government, addressed to the Speaker of the Assembly, who will open and announce them in front of both houses of the legislature during the first week of the session. The candidate with the most votes shall be Governor; however, if two or more candidates have the same highest number of votes, the Legislature will choose one of them as Governor by a joint vote of both houses.

Sec. 5. The Governor shall be commander-in-chief of the militia, the army, and navy, of this State.

Sec. 5. The Governor will be the commander-in-chief of the militia, the army, and navy of this State.

Sec. 6. He shall transact all executive business with the officers of government, civil and military, and may require information in writing from the officers of the executive department, upon any subject relating to the duties of the respective offices.

Sec. 6. He will handle all executive business with the government officials, both civil and military, and can request written information from the officers of the executive department on any topic related to their respective duties.

Sec. 7. He shall see that the laws are faithfully executed.

Sec. 7. He will ensure that the laws are carried out faithfully.

Sec. 8. When any office shall, from any cause become vacant, and no mode is provided by the constitution and laws for filling such vacancy, the Governor shall have power to fill such vacancy by granting a commission, which shall expire at the end of the next session of the Legislature, or at the next election by the people.

Sec. 8. When an office becomes vacant for any reason, and there’s no procedure outlined in the constitution and laws to fill that vacancy, the Governor has the authority to fill that position by issuing a commission, which will end after the next session of the Legislature or at the next election by the people.

Sec. 9. He may, on extraordinary occasions, convene the Legislature by proclamation, and shall state to both houses, when assembled, the purpose for which they shall have been convened.

Sec. 9. He can, in special situations, call the Legislature together by announcement, and must explain to both houses, when they are gathered, the reason for their meeting.

Sec. 10. He shall communicate by message to the Legislature, at every session, the condition of the State, and recommend such matters as he shall deem expedient.

Sec. 10. He will send a message to the Legislature at each session, detailing the state of the State and suggesting any matters he considers necessary.

Sec. 11. In case of a disagreement between the two houses, with respect to the time of adjournment, the Governor shall have power to adjourn the Legislature to such time as he may think proper; Provided it be not beyond the time fixed for the meeting of the next Legislature.

Sec. 11. If there’s a disagreement between the two houses about when to adjourn, the Governor can adjourn the Legislature to a time that he considers appropriate, as long as it’s not later than the time set for the next Legislature to meet.

Sec. 12. No person shall, while holding any office under the United States, or this State, exercise the office of Governor, except as hereinafter expressly provided.

Sec. 12. No one shall, while holding any office under the United States or this State, serve as Governor, except as specifically allowed below.

Sec. 13. The Governor shall have the power to grant reprieves and pardons, after conviction, for all offences except treason, and cases of impeachment, upon such conditions, and with such restrictions and limitations, as he may think proper, subject to such regulations as may be provided by law relative to the manner of applying for pardons. Upon conviction for treason he shall have the power to suspend the execution of the sentence until the case shall be reported to the Legislature at its next meeting, when the Legislature shall either pardon, direct the execution of the sentence, or grant a further reprieve. He shall communicate to the Legislature, at the beginning of every session, every case of reprieve, or pardon granted, stating the name{215} of the convict, the crime of which he was convicted, the sentence and its date, and the date of the pardon or reprieve.

Sec. 13. The Governor has the authority to grant reprieves and pardons after a conviction for all offenses except treason and instances of impeachment. He can set conditions, restrictions, and limitations as he sees fit, following any laws regarding how to apply for pardons. In treason cases, he can delay carrying out the sentence until the case is presented to the Legislature at its next meeting, where the Legislature will decide to either grant a pardon, enforce the sentence, or issue another reprieve. At the start of each session, he must inform the Legislature about every reprieve or pardon granted, including the name{215} of the convict, the crime, the sentence and its date, and the date of the pardon or reprieve.

Sec. 14. There shall be a seal of this State, which shall be kept by the Governor, and used by him officially, and it shall be called “The great seal of the State of California.”

Sec. 14. There will be an official seal for the State, kept by the Governor and used for official purposes, which will be known as “The Great Seal of the State of California.”

Sec. 15. All grants and commissions shall be in the name and by the authority of the people of the State of California, sealed with the great seal of the State, signed by the Governor, and countersigned by the Secretary of State.

Sec. 15. All grants and commissions will be issued in the name and by the authority of the people of the State of California, sealed with the great seal of the State, signed by the Governor, and countersigned by the Secretary of State.

Sec. 16. A Lieutenant Governor shall be elected at the same time and place, and in the same manner as the Governor; and his term of office, and his qualifications of eligibility, shall also be the same. He shall be President of the Senate, but shall only have a casting vote therein. If, during a vacancy of the office of Governor, the Lieutenant Governor shall be impeached, displaced, resign, die, or become incapable of performing the duties of his office, or be absent from the State, the President of the Senate shall act as Governor, until the vacancy be filled, or the disability shall cease.

Sec. 16. A Lieutenant Governor will be elected at the same time and place, and in the same way as the Governor; and their term of office and eligibility requirements will also be the same. They will serve as the President of the Senate, but will only have a tie-breaking vote. If the Governor's position becomes vacant due to the Lieutenant Governor being impeached, removed, resigning, passing away, becoming unable to perform their duties, or being absent from the State, the President of the Senate will take over as Governor until the vacancy is filled or the reason for the absence is resolved.

Sec. 17. In case of the impeachment of the Governor, or his removal from office, death, inability to discharge the powers and duties of the said office, resignation or absence from the State, the powers and duties of the office shall devolve upon the Lieutenant Governor for the residue of the term, or until the disability shall cease. But when the Governor shall, with the consent of the Legislature, be out of the State in time of war, at the head of any military force thereof, he shall continue commander-in-chief of all the military force of the State.

Sec. 17. If the Governor is impeached, removed from office, dies, is unable to perform the duties of the office, resigns, or is absent from the State, the powers and responsibilities of the office will be transferred to the Lieutenant Governor for the rest of the term, or until the issue is resolved. However, if the Governor is, with the Legislature's approval, out of the State during wartime leading a military force, he will remain the commander-in-chief of all the military forces of the State.

Sec. 18. A Secretary of State, a Comptroller, a Treasurer, an Attorney General and Surveyor General, shall be chosen in the manner provided in this Constitution; and the term of office, and eligibility of each, shall be the same as are prescribed for the Governor and Lieutenant Governor.

Sec. 18. A Secretary of State, a Comptroller, a Treasurer, an Attorney General, and a Surveyor General will be elected as outlined in this Constitution; the length of their term and qualifications will be the same as those set for the Governor and Lieutenant Governor.

Sec. 19. The Secretary of State shall be appointed by the Governor, by and with the advice and consent of the Senate. He shall keep a fair record of the official acts of the Legislative and Executive Departments of the government; and shall, when required, lay the same, and all matters relative thereto, before either branch of the Legislature: and shall perform such other duties as shall be assigned him by law.

Sec. 19. The Secretary of State will be appointed by the Governor with the approval of the Senate. They will maintain a clear record of the official actions of both the Legislative and Executive branches of the government, and when needed, present these records and any related matters to either branch of the Legislature. They will also carry out any other responsibilities assigned to them by law.

Sec. 20. The Comptroller, Treasurer, Attorney General and Surveyor General, shall be chosen by joint vote of the two houses of the Legislature, at their first session under this Constitution, and thereafter shall be elected at the same time and places, and in the same manner, as the Governor and Lieutenant Governor.

Sec. 20. The Comptroller, Treasurer, Attorney General, and Surveyor General will be elected by a joint vote of both houses of the Legislature during their first session under this Constitution, and will then be elected at the same time and locations, using the same process as the Governor and Lieutenant Governor.

Sec. 21. The Governor, Lieutenant Governor, Secretary of State, Comptroller, Treasurer, Attorney General, and Surveyor General, shall each at stated times during their continuance in office, receive for their services a compensation, which shall not be increased or diminished during the term for which they shall have been elected; but neither of these officers shall receive for his own use any fees for the performance of his official duties.{216}

Sec. 21. The Governor, Lieutenant Governor, Secretary of State, Comptroller, Treasurer, Attorney General, and Surveyor General will receive a salary for their services at set times while they are in office. This salary cannot be raised or lowered during their elected term; however, none of these officials are allowed to take any fees for performing their official duties for personal use.{216}

ARTICLE VI.

JUDICIAL DEPARTMENT.

Judicial Branch.

Sec. 1. The judicial power of this State shall be vested in a Supreme Court, in District Courts, in County Courts, and in Justices of the Peace. The Legislature may also establish such municipal and other inferior courts as may be deemed necessary.

Sec. 1. The judicial power of this State will be held by a Supreme Court, District Courts, County Courts, and Justices of the Peace. The Legislature may also set up municipal and other lower courts as needed.

Sec. 2. The Supreme Court shall consist of a Chief Justice, and two Associate Justices, any two of whom shall constitute a quorum.

Sec. 2. The Supreme Court will have a Chief Justice and two Associate Justices, with any two of them making up a quorum.

Sec. 3. The Justices of the Supreme Court shall be elected at the general election, by the qualified electors of the State, and shall hold their office for the term of six years from the first day of January next after their election; provided that the Legislature shall, at its first meeting, elect a Chief Justice and two Associate Justices of the Supreme Court, by joint vote of both houses, and so classify them that one shall go out of office every two years. After the first election, the senior Justice in commission shall be the Chief Justice.

Sec. 3. The Justices of the Supreme Court will be elected during the general election by the qualified voters of the State and will serve a term of six years starting from January 1st following their election. The Legislature will, at its first meeting, choose a Chief Justice and two Associate Justices of the Supreme Court through a joint vote of both houses, ensuring that one Justice leaves office every two years. After the initial election, the longest-serving Justice in commission will become the Chief Justice.

Sec. 4. The Supreme Court shall have appellate jurisdiction in all cases when the matter in dispute exceeds two hundred dollars, when the legality of any tax, toll, or impost or municipal fine is in question: and in all criminal cases amounting to felony, or questions of law alone. And the said court, and each of the Justices thereof, as well as all district and county judges, shall have power to issue writs of habeas corpus, at the instance of any person held in actual custody. They shall also have power to issue all other writs and process necessary to the exercise of the appellate jurisdiction, and shall be conservators of the peace throughout the State.

Sec. 4. The Supreme Court will have the authority to hear appeals in all cases where the dispute involves more than two hundred dollars, where the legality of any tax, fee, or fine imposed by a municipality is questioned, and in all felony criminal cases, or matters of law alone. The court and each of its Justices, along with all district and county judges, will have the power to issue writs of habeas corpus whenever a person is being held in custody. They will also be able to issue any other writs and processes necessary for exercising their appellate jurisdiction and will maintain peace throughout the State.

Sec. 5. The State shall be divided by the first Legislature into a convenient number of districts, subject to such alteration from time to time as the public good may require; for each of which a district judge shall be appointed by the joint vote of the legislature, at its first meeting, who shall hold his office for two years from the first day of January next after his election; after which, said judges shall be elected by the qualified electors of their respective districts, at the general election, and shall hold their office for the term of six years.

Sec. 5. The State will be divided by the first Legislature into a convenient number of districts, and these may be adjusted over time as needed for the public good. For each district, a district judge will be appointed by a joint vote of the legislature at its first meeting, and this judge will serve a two-year term starting from January 1 of the year following their election. After that, judges will be elected by the qualified voters in their respective districts during the general election and will serve a term of six years.

Sec. 6. The District Courts shall have original jurisdiction, in law and equity, in all civil cases where the amount in dispute exceeds two hundred dollars, exclusive of interest. In all criminal cases not otherwise provided for, and in all issues of fact joined in the probate courts, their jurisdiction shall be unlimited.

Sec. 6. The District Courts will have original jurisdiction, in both law and equity, in all civil cases where the amount in dispute is over two hundred dollars, not including interest. In all criminal cases not specifically addressed elsewhere, and in all factual issues brought in the probate courts, their jurisdiction will be unlimited.

Sec. 7. The legislature shall provide for the election, by the people, of a Clerk of the Supreme Court, and County Clerks, District Attorneys, Sheriffs, Coroners, and other necessary officers; and shall fix by law their duties and compensation. County Clerks shall be, ex-officio, Clerks of the District Courts in and for their respective counties.

Sec. 7. The legislature will arrange for the election of a Clerk of the Supreme Court, County Clerks, District Attorneys, Sheriffs, Coroners, and any other necessary officers by the people; and will establish their duties and pay by law. County Clerks will also serve as the Clerks of the District Courts for their respective counties.

Sec. 8. There shall be elected in each of the organized counties of this State, one County Judge who shall hold his office for four years. He shall hold the County Court, and perform the duties of Surrogate, or Probate Judge. The{217} County Judge, with two Justices of the Peace, to be designated according to law, shall hold courts of sessions, with such criminal jurisdiction as the Legislature shall prescribe, and he shall perform such other duties as shall be required by law.

Sec. 8. In each organized county of this State, there will be an elected County Judge who will serve a four-year term. They will preside over the County Court and perform the duties of Surrogate or Probate Judge. The{217} County Judge, along with two Justices of the Peace appointed as per the law, will hold sessions of court, exercising the criminal jurisdiction defined by the Legislature, and will carry out any other duties required by law.

Sec. 9. The County Courts shall have such jurisdiction, in cases arising in Justices Courts, and in special cases, as the Legislature may prescribe, but shall have no original civil jurisdiction, except in such special cases.

Sec. 9. The County Courts will have the authority to handle cases that come from Justices Courts and in specific situations as defined by the Legislature, but they won't have original civil jurisdiction, except in those specific cases.

Sec. 10. The times and places of holding the terms of the Supreme Court, and the general and special terms of the District Courts within the several districts, shall be provided for by law.

Sec. 10. The schedule and locations for holding the sessions of the Supreme Court, as well as the general and special sessions of the District Courts in each district, will be established by law.

Sec. 11. No judicial officer, except a Justice of the Peace, shall receive, to his own use, any fees, or perquisites of office.

Sec. 11. No judicial officer, except a Justice of the Peace, can take any fees or perks for themselves.

Sec. 12. The Legislature shall provide for the speedy publication of all statute laws, and of such judicial decisions as it may deem expedient; and all laws and judicial decisions shall be free for publication by any person.

Sec. 12. The Legislature will ensure that all statute laws and any judicial decisions it finds necessary are published quickly; and all laws and judicial decisions will be available for anyone to publish freely.

Sec. 13. Tribunals for conciliation may be established, with such powers and duties as may be prescribed by law; but such tribunals shall have no power to render judgment to be obligatory on the parties, except they voluntarily submit their matters in difference, and agree to abide the judgment, or assent thereto in the presence of such tribunal, in such cases as shall be prescribed by law.

Sec. 13. Conciliation tribunals may be set up, with the powers and responsibilities defined by law; however, these tribunals cannot issue binding judgments on the parties unless they voluntarily bring their issues before the tribunal and agree to follow the judgment, or accept it in the presence of the tribunal, in the cases specified by law.

Sec. 14. The Legislature shall determine the number of Justices of the Peace, to be elected in each county, city, town, and incorporated village of the State, and fix by law their powers, duties, and responsibilities. It shall also determine in what cases appeals may be made from Justices’ Courts to the County Court.

Sec. 14. The Legislature will decide how many Justices of the Peace will be elected in each county, city, town, and incorporated village in the State, and will establish by law their powers, responsibilities, and duties. It will also determine in which cases appeals can be made from Justices' Courts to the County Court.

Sec. 15. The Justices of the Supreme Court, and Judges of the District Court, shall severally, at stated times during their continuance in office, receive for their services a compensation, to be paid out of the treasury, which shall not be increased or diminished during the term for which they shall have been elected. The county Judges shall also severally, at stated times, receive for their services a compensation to be paid out of the county treasury of their respective counties, which shall not be increased or diminished during the term for which they shall have been elected.

Sec. 15. The Justices of the Supreme Court and the Judges of the District Court shall receive a salary for their services at set times throughout their time in office, paid from the treasury, which cannot be raised or lowered during their elected term. County Judges shall also receive a salary for their services at set times, paid from the county treasury of their respective counties, which cannot be raised or lowered during their elected term.

Sec. 16. The Justices of the Supreme Court and District Judges shall be ineligible to any other office, during the term for which they shall have been elected.

Sec. 16. The Justices of the Supreme Court and District Judges cannot hold any other office during their elected term.

Sec. 17. Judges shall not charge juries with respect to matters of fact, but may state the testimony and declare the law.

Sec. 17. Judges can’t tell juries what to think about facts, but they can summarize the evidence and explain the law.

Sec. 18. The style of all process shall be “The People of the State of California;” all the prosecutions shall be conducted in the name and by the authority of the same.

Sec. 18. The style of all legal proceedings shall be “The People of the State of California;” all prosecutions shall be carried out in the name and by the authority of the same.

ARTICLE VII.

MILITIA.

Militia.

Sec. 1. The legislature shall provide by law, for organizing and disciplining{218} the militia, in such manner as they shall deem expedient, not incompatible with the constitution and laws of the United States.

Sec. 1. The legislature will create laws to organize and train{218} the militia in a way they find necessary, as long as it doesn’t conflict with the constitution and laws of the United States.

Sec. 2. Officers of the militia shall be elected or appointed, in such manner as the legislature shall from time to time direct; and shall be commissioned by the governor.

Sec. 2. Militia officers will be elected or appointed in whatever way the legislature decides from time to time; and they will be commissioned by the governor.

Sec. 3. The governor shall have power to call forth the militia, to execute the laws of the State, to suppress insurrections and repel invasions.

Sec. 3. The governor has the authority to call up the militia to enforce state laws, put down rebellions, and defend against invasions.

ARTICLE VIII.

STATE DEBTS.

State Debts.

The Legislature shall not in any manner create any debt or debts, liability or liabilities, which shall singly, or in the aggregate, with any previous debts or liabilities, exceed the sum of three hundred thousands dollars, except in case of war, to repel invasion, or suppress insurrection, unless the same shall be authorized by some law for some single object or work, to be distinctly specified therein, which law shall provide ways and means, exclusive of loans, for the payment of the interest of such debt or liability, as it falls due, and also pay and discharge the principal of such debt or liability within twenty years from the time of the contracting thereof, and shall be irrepealable until the principal and interest thereon shall be paid and discharged; but no such law shall take effect until, at a general election, it shall have been submitted to the people, and have received a majority of all the votes cast for and against it at such election; and all money raised by authority of such law shall be applied only to the specific object therein stated, or to the payment of the debt thereby created; and such law shall be published in at least one newspaper in each judicial district, if one be published therein, throughout the State, for three months next preceding the election at which it is submitted to the people.

The Legislature cannot create any debt, liability, or any combination of debts or liabilities that exceeds three hundred thousand dollars, unless it’s for war, defending against invasion, or suppressing insurrection. This is only allowed if a law specifically authorizes it for a single project or purpose, details the project, and outlines ways to pay off the interest as it comes due. It must also ensure that the principal amount is paid off within twenty years. This law cannot be repealed until the debt and interest are completely paid off. Additionally, the law must be approved by a majority vote during a general election to take effect. All funds raised under this law can only be used for the stated purpose or to pay off the created debt. The law must also be published for three months in at least one newspaper in each judicial district, if one is available, leading up to the election where the public will vote on it.

ARTICLE IX.

EDUCATION.

Sec. 1. The Legislature shall provide for the election, by the people, of a Superintendent of Public Instruction, who shall hold his office for three years, and whose duties shall be prescribed by law, and who shall receive such compensation as the Legislature may direct.

Sec. 1. The Legislature will arrange for the election, by the people, of a Superintendent of Public Instruction, who will serve a term of three years. The law will outline their responsibilities, and they will receive a salary determined by the Legislature.

Sec. 2. The Legislature shall encourage, by all suitable means, the promotion of intellectual, scientific, moral and agricultural improvement. The proceeds of all lands that may be granted by the United States to this State for the support of schools, which may be sold or disposed of, and the five hundred thousand acres of land granted to the new States, under an act of Congress distributing the proceeds of the public lands among the several States of the Union, approved A. D. 1841; and all estates of deceased persons who may have died without leaving a will, or heir, and also such per cent. as may be granted by Congress on the sale of lands in this State, shall be and remain a perpetual fund, the interest of which, together with all the rents of the unsold lands, and such other means as the Legislature may provide, shall be{219} inviolably appropriated to the support of Common Schools throughout the State.

Sec. 2. The Legislature will promote, by all appropriate means, the advancement of intellectual, scientific, moral, and agricultural development. The revenue from all lands granted to this State by the United States for the support of schools, whether sold or otherwise disposed of, along with the five hundred thousand acres of land granted to the new States under a Congressional act from A.D. 1841 that distributes proceeds from public lands among the States of the Union, plus all estates from deceased individuals who passed away without a will or heirs, and any percentage granted by Congress on the sale of lands in this State, will create a permanent fund. The interest from this fund, combined with all rents from any unsold lands and any other resources the Legislature may designate, will be{219} strictly allocated to support Common Schools throughout the State.

Sec 3. The Legislature shall provide for a system of Common Schools, by which a school shall be kept up and supported in each district at least three months in every year: and any school district neglecting to keep up and support such a school, may be deprived of its proportion of the interest of the public fund during such neglect.

Sec 3. The Legislature must establish a system of public schools, ensuring that each district maintains a school for at least three months each year. If any school district fails to keep and support a school, it may lose its share of the interest from the public fund for the time it neglects this responsibility.

Sec. 4. The Legislature shall take measures for the protection, improvement, or other disposition of such lands as have been, or may hereafter be, reserved or granted by the United States, or any person or persons to this State for the use of a University; and the funds accruing from the rents or sale of such lands, or from any other source, for the purpose aforesaid, shall be and remain a permanent fund, the interest of which shall be applied to the support of said university, with such branches as the public convenience may demand for the promotion of literature, the arts and sciences, as may be authorized by the terms of such grant. And it shall be the duty of the Legislature, as soon as may be, to provide effectual means for the improvement and permanent security of the funds of said University.

Sec. 4. The Legislature will take steps to protect, improve, or otherwise manage lands that have been or may in the future be reserved or granted by the United States, or any individual, to this State for the use of a University. The funds generated from the rents or sales of these lands, or from any other sources intended for this purpose, will be maintained as a permanent fund. The interest from this fund will be used to support the university and its branches, as determined by public needs, to promote literature, the arts, and sciences, in line with the conditions of the grant. Additionally, it is the responsibility of the Legislature to quickly ensure effective measures for the improvement and permanent security of the university’s funds.

ARTICLE X.

MODE OF AMENDING AND REVISING THE CONSTITUTION.

Sec. 1. Any amendment or amendments to this constitution may be proposed in the Senate or Assembly; and if the same shall be agreed to by a majority of the members elected to each of the two houses, such proposed amendment or amendments shall be entered on their journals, with the yeas and nays taken thereon, and referred to the Legislature then next to be chosen, and shall be published for three months next preceding the time of making such choice. And if, in the Legislature next chosen, as aforesaid, such proposed amendment or amendments shall be agreed to by a majority of all the members elected to each house, then it shall be the duty of the Legislature to submit such proposed amendment or amendments to the people, in such manner, and at such time, as the Legislature shall prescribe; and if the people shall approve and ratify such amendment or amendments, by a majority of the electors qualified to vote for members of the Legislature voting thereon, such amendment or amendments shall become part of the Constitution.

Sec. 1. Any changes or additions to this constitution can be proposed in the Senate or Assembly; if a majority of the elected members in both houses agree, the proposed change or changes will be recorded in their journals, along with the votes for and against it, and forwarded to the next Legislature to be chosen. These proposals will also be published for three months before the election. If the next chosen Legislature agrees to the proposed change or changes by a majority of all elected members in each house, it will be the Legislature's responsibility to present those proposed changes to the public in a way and at a time that they decide; if the public approves and ratifies the proposed change or changes by a majority of the voters eligible to vote for members of the Legislature, then those changes will become part of the Constitution.

Sec. 2. And if, at any time, two-thirds of the Senate and Assembly shall think it necessary to revise and change this entire Constitution, they shall recommend to the electors, at the next election for members of the Legislature, to vote for or against the convention; and if it shall appear that a majority of the electors voting at such election have voted in favor of calling a convention, the Legislature shall, at its next session, provide by law for calling a convention, to be holden within six months after the passage of such law; and such convention shall consist of a number of members not less than that of both branches of the Legislature.

Sec. 2. If at any point two-thirds of the Senate and Assembly believe it’s necessary to revise and change the entire Constitution, they will recommend to the voters, at the next election for members of the Legislature, to vote for or against holding a convention. If it turns out that a majority of the voters participating in that election favor calling a convention, the Legislature will arrange, at its next session, to create a law for calling a convention to be held within six months after the law is passed; and this convention will have at least as many members as both houses of the Legislature combined.

ARTICLE XI.

MISCELLANEOUS PROVISIONS.

Additional Provisions.

Sec. 1. The first session of the Legislature shall be held at the Pueblo de{220} San Jose, which place shall be the permanent seat of government, until removed by law; provided, however, that two-thirds of all the members elected to each house of the Legislature shall concur in the passage of such law.

Sec. 1. The first session of the Legislature will take place at the Pueblo de{220} San Jose, which will be the permanent seat of government until changed by law; however, two-thirds of all elected members in each house of the Legislature must agree for such a law to pass.

Sec. 2. Any citizen of this State who shall, after the adoption of this constitution, fight a duel with deadly weapons, or send or accept a challenge to fight a duel with deadly weapons, either within the State or out of it; or who shall act as second, or knowingly aid or assist in any manner those thus offending, shall not be allowed to hold any office of profit, or to enjoy the right of suffrage under this Constitution.

Sec. 2. Any citizen of this State who fights a duel with deadly weapons, or sends or accepts a challenge to fight a duel with deadly weapons, whether inside or outside the State, after the adoption of this constitution; or who acts as a second, or knowingly helps or assists anyone in these actions, will not be allowed to hold any profitable office or exercise the right to vote under this Constitution.

Sec. 3. Members of the Legislature, and all officers, executive and judicial, except such inferior officers as may be by law exempted, shall, before they enter on the duties of their respective offices, take and subscribe the following oath or affirmation.

Sec. 3. Members of the Legislature and all officers, both executive and judicial, except for any lower-level officers who may be legally exempt, must, before starting their official duties, take and sign the following oath or affirmation.

“I do solemnly swear (or affirm, as the case may be,) that I will support the Constitution of the United States, and the constitution of the State of California; and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office of ——, according to the best of my ability.” And no other oath, declaration, or test, shall be required as a qualification for any office or public trust.

“I do solemnly swear (or affirm, as applicable) that I will support the Constitution of the United States and the Constitution of the State of California; and that I will faithfully carry out the duties of the office of —— to the best of my ability.” No other oath, declaration, or test shall be required as a qualification for any office or public trust.

Sec. 4. The Legislature shall establish a system of county and town governments, which shall be as nearly uniform as practicable, throughout the State.

Sec. 4. The Legislature will create a system of county and town governments that will be as consistent as possible across the State.

Sec. 5. The Legislature shall have power to provide for the election of a board of supervisors in each county; and these supervisors shall, jointly and individually, perform such duties as may be prescribed by law.

Sec. 5. The Legislature has the authority to organize the election of a board of supervisors in each county, and these supervisors will carry out duties as outlined by law, both together and on their own.

Sec. 6. All officers whose election or appointment is not provided for by this constitution, and all officers whose offices may hereafter be created by law, shall be elected by the people, or appointed as the Legislature may direct.

Sec. 6. All officers whose election or appointment is not covered by this constitution, and all officers whose positions may be created by law in the future, shall be elected by the people or appointed as the Legislature may specify.

Sec. 7. When the duration of any office is not provided for by this constitution, it may be declared by law; and if not so declared, such office shall be held during the pleasure of the authority making the appointment; nor shall the duration of any office, not fixed by this constitution, ever exceed four years.

Sec. 7. If the length of any office isn’t specified in this constitution, it can be determined by law; if it’s not determined, that office will be held for as long as the authority that appointed it wants. Also, the length of any office not set by this constitution can’t be longer than four years.

Sec. 8. The fiscal year shall commence on the first day of July.

Sec. 8. The fiscal year will start on July 1st.

Sec. 9. Each county, town, city and incorporated village, shall make provision for the support of its own officers, subject to such restrictions and regulations as the Legislature may prescribe.

Sec. 9. Each county, town, city, and incorporated village must provide for the support of its own officials, following any restrictions and regulations set by the Legislature.

Sec. 10. The credit of the State shall not in any manner be given or loaned to, or in aid of, any individual, association or corporation; nor shall the State, directly or indirectly, become a stockholder in any association or corporation.

Sec. 10. The state's credit cannot be given or loaned to, or used to assist, any individual, group, or company; nor can the state, directly or indirectly, become a shareholder in any group or company.

Sec. 11. Suits may be brought against the State, in such manner, and in such courts, as shall be directed by law.

Sec. 11. Legal actions can be taken against the State in the ways and in the courts that the law specifies.

Sec. 12. No contract of marriage, if otherwise duly made, shall be invalidated, for want of conformity to the requirements of any religious sect.

Sec. 12. A marriage contract, if properly made, cannot be invalidated just because it doesn’t meet the requirements of any religious group.

Sec. 13. Taxation shall be equal and uniform throughout the State. All property, in this State, shall be taxed in proportion to its value, to be ascertained as directed by law; but assessors and collectors of town, county and{221} State taxes, shall be elected by the qualified electors of the district, county or town, in which the property taxed for State, county or town purposes is situated.

Sec. 13. Taxes will be equal and uniform across the State. All property in this State will be taxed based on its value, as determined by law; however, assessors and collectors of town, county, and {221} State taxes will be elected by the qualified voters in the district, county, or town where the property being taxed for State, county, or town purposes is located.

Sec. 14. All property, both real and personal, of the wife, owned or claimed by her before marriage, and that acquired afterwards by gift, devise or descent, shall be her separate property; and laws shall be passed more clearly defining the rights of the wife, in relation as well to her separate property, as to that held in common with her husband. Laws shall also be passed providing for the registration of the wife’s separate property.

Sec. 14. All property, both real and personal, that the wife owned or claimed before marriage, as well as anything she acquires afterward through gifts, wills, or inheritance, shall be her separate property; and laws will be enacted to clearly define the wife's rights regarding her separate property and property shared with her husband. Additional laws will also be established to ensure the registration of the wife's separate property.

Sec. 15. The Legislature shall protect by law, from forced sale, a certain portion of the homestead and other property of all heads of families.

Sec. 15. The Legislature will protect by law, from forced sale, a certain portion of the homestead and other property of all heads of families.

Sec. 16. No perpetuities shall be allowed, except for eleemosynary purposes.

Sec. 16. No perpetual trusts will be allowed, except for charitable purposes.

Sec. 17. Every person shall be disqualified from holding any office of profit in this State, who shall have been convicted of having given or offered a bribe, to procure his election or appointment.

Sec. 17. Anyone who has been convicted of giving or offering a bribe to secure their election or appointment will be disqualified from holding any profitable office in this State.

Sec. 18. Laws shall be made to exclude from office, serving on juries, and from the right of suffrage, those who shall hereafter be convicted of bribery, perjury, forgery, or other high crimes. The privilege of free suffrage shall be supported by laws regulating elections, and prohibiting, under adequate penalties, all undue influence thereon, from power, bribery, tumult, or other improper practice.

Sec. 18. Laws will be established to prevent anyone convicted of bribery, perjury, forgery, or other serious crimes from holding office, serving on juries, or voting. The right to vote freely will be protected by laws that regulate elections and impose strict penalties on any attempts at undue influence, including power, bribery, unrest, or other improper practices.

Sec. 19. Absence from this State on business of the State, or of the United States, shall not affect the question of residence of any person.

Sec. 19. Being away from this State for business related to the State or the United States will not impact anyone's residency status.

Sec. 20. A plurality of the votes given at any election shall constitute a choice, where not otherwise directed in this constitution.

Sec. 20. A majority of the votes cast in any election will determine the choice, unless stated otherwise in this constitution.

Sec. 21. All laws, decrees, regulations, and provisions, which from their nature require publication, shall be published in English and Spanish.

Sec. 21. All laws, decrees, regulations, and provisions that need to be made public must be published in both English and Spanish.

ARTICLE XII.

BOUNDARY.

Boundary.

The boundary of the State of California shall be as follows:—

The boundary of the State of California will be as follows:—

Commencing at the point of intersection of the 42d degree of north latitude with the 120th degree of longitude west from Greenwich, and running south on the line of said 120th degree of west longitude until it intersects the 39th degree of north latitude; thence running in a straight line in a southeasterly direction to the river Colorado, at a point where it intersects the 35th degree of north latitude; thence down the middle of the channel of said river, to the boundary line between the United States and Mexico, as established by the treaty of May 30th, 1848; thence running west and along said boundary line to the Pacific Ocean, and extending therein three English miles; thence running in a northwesterly direction, and following the direction of the Pacific coast to the 42d degree of north latitude; thence on the line of said 42d degree of north latitude to the place of beginning. Also all the islands, harbors and bays, along and adjacent to the Pacific coast.{222}

Starting at the intersection of the 42nd degree of north latitude and the 120th degree of longitude west from Greenwich, and then going south along the 120th degree of west longitude until it meets the 39th degree of north latitude; then moving in a straight line southeast to the Colorado River, where it intersects the 35th degree of north latitude; then following the middle of the river channel down to the border between the United States and Mexico, as set by the treaty of May 30th, 1848; then going west along that border to the Pacific Ocean, and extending three English miles into it; then heading northwest, following the Pacific coast until reaching the 42nd degree of north latitude; then along the 42nd degree of north latitude back to the starting point. Also included are all the islands, harbors, and bays along and near the Pacific coast.{222}

SCHEDULE.

Schedule.

Sec. 1. All rights, prosecutions, claims and contracts, as well of individuals as of bodies corporate, and all laws in force at the time of the adoption of this constitution, and not inconsistent therewith, until altered or repealed by the Legislature, shall continue as if the same had not been adopted.

Sec. 1. All rights, prosecutions, claims, and contracts, both for individuals and corporations, as well as all laws in effect at the time this constitution was adopted that do not conflict with it, will remain in force until changed or revoked by the Legislature, as if this constitution had never been adopted.

Sec. 2. The Legislature shall provide for the removal of all causes which may be pending when this constitution goes into effect, to courts created by the same.

Sec. 2. The Legislature will arrange for the transfer of all ongoing cases to the courts established by this constitution when it takes effect.

Sec. 3. In order that no inconvenience may result to the public service, from the taking effect of this constitution, no office shall be superseded thereby, nor the laws relative to the duties of the several offices be changed, until the entering into office of the new officers to be appointed under this constitution.

Sec. 3. To avoid any disruption to public service from the implementation of this constitution, no office will be replaced by it, nor will the laws regarding the responsibilities of the various offices be altered, until the new officers appointed under this constitution take office.

Sec. 4. The provisions of this constitution concerning the term of residence necessary to enable persons to hold certain offices therein mentioned, shall not be held to apply to officers chosen by the people at the first election, or by the Legislature at its first session.

Sec. 4. The rules in this constitution about how long someone needs to live in a place to hold certain offices don’t apply to the officials chosen by the people in the first election or by the Legislature in its first session.

Sec. 5. Every citizen of California, declared a legal voter by this constitution, and every citizen of the United States, a resident of this State on the day of election, shall be entitled to vote at the first general election under this constitution, and on the question of the adoption thereof.

Sec. 5. Every citizen of California, recognized as a legal voter by this constitution, and every citizen of the United States who is a resident of this State on election day, shall have the right to vote in the first general election under this constitution, as well as on the question of its adoption.

Sec. 6. This constitution shall be submitted to the people, for their ratification or rejection, at the general election to be held on Tuesday, the thirteenth day of November next. The executive of the existing government of California is hereby requested to issue a proclamation to the people, directing the Prefects of the several districts, or in case of vacancy, the Sub-Prefects, or senior Judge of First Instance, to cause such election to be held, on the day aforesaid, in their respective districts. The election shall be conducted in the manner which was prescribed for the election of delegates to this convention, except that the Prefect, Sub-Prefect, or senior Judge of First Instance ordering such election in each district, shall have power to designate any additional number of places for opening the polls, and that, in every place of holding the election, a regular poll-list shall be kept by the judges and inspectors of election. It shall also be the duty of these judges and inspectors of election, on the day aforesaid, to receive the votes of the electors qualified to vote at such election. Each voter shall express his opinion, by depositing in the ballot-box a ticket, whereon shall be written, or printed, “For the Constitution,” or “Against the Constitution,” or some such words as will distinctly convey the intention of the voter. These Judges and Inspectors shall also receive the votes for the several officers to be voted for at the said election, as herein provided. At the close of the election, the judges and inspectors shall carefully count each ballot, and forthwith make duplicate returns thereof to the Prefect, Sub-Prefect, or senior Judge of First Instance, as the case may be, of their respective districts; and said Prefect, Sub-Prefect, or senior Judge of First Instance, shall transmit one of the same, by the most safe and rapid conveyance, to the Secretary of State. Upon the receipt of said returns, or on the tenth day of December next, if the returns be not sooner received, it shall be the duty of a board of canvassers, to consist of the Secretary of State, one of the Judges of the Su{223}perior Court, the Prefect, Judge of First Instance, and an Alcalde of the District of Monterey, or any three of the aforementioned officers, in the presence of all who shall choose to attend, to compare the votes given at said election, and to immediately publish an abstract of the same in one or more of the newspapers of California. And the Executive will also, immediately after ascertaining that the constitution has been ratified by the people, make proclamation of the fact; and thenceforth this constitution shall be ordained and established as the constitution of California.

Sec. 6. This constitution will be presented to the people for their approval or rejection during the general election on Tuesday, November 13th. The current executive of the California government is requested to issue a proclamation to the people, instructing the Prefects of the various districts, or in case of vacancy, the Sub-Prefects or senior Judges of First Instance, to organize the election on that specified day in their respective districts. The election will be carried out in the same way as the election of delegates to this convention, except that the Prefect, Sub-Prefect, or senior Judge of First Instance overseeing the election in each district will have the authority to designate additional polling places, and at every polling location, election judges and inspectors will keep a regular poll list. It will also be the responsibility of these judges and inspectors to collect votes from qualified voters on that day. Each voter will express their choice by dropping a ticket into the ballot box stating “For the Constitution,” “Against the Constitution,” or similar wording that clearly indicates their intention. These judges and inspectors will also collect votes for the various offices being contested in that election as specified here. After the election ends, the judges and inspectors will carefully count each ballot and immediately make duplicate reports to the Prefect, Sub-Prefect, or senior Judge of First Instance of their respective districts. That Prefect, Sub-Prefect, or senior Judge of First Instance will then send one copy through the safest and quickest means to the Secretary of State. Upon receiving these reports, or by December 10th if the reports are not received sooner, a board of canvassers consisting of the Secretary of State, one Judge of the Superior Court, the Prefect, the Judge of First Instance, and an Alcalde of the District of Monterey, or any three of these officials, in front of anyone who wishes to attend, will compare the votes cast in that election and promptly publish a summary in one or more newspapers in California. The Executive will also, as soon as it is confirmed that the constitution has been ratified by the people, announce this fact; and from that point forward, this constitution will be established as the constitution of California.

Sec. 7. If this constitution shall be ratified by the people of California, the Executive of the existing government is hereby requested, immediately after the same shall be ascertained, in the manner herein directed, to cause a fair copy thereof to be forwarded to the President of the United States, in order that he may lay it before the Congress of the United States.

Sec. 7. If the people of California ratify this constitution, the Executive of the current government is requested to send a complete copy of it to the President of the United States as soon as this is confirmed, so he can present it to Congress.

Sec. 8. At the general election aforesaid, viz.: the thirteenth day of November next, there shall be elected a Governor, Lieutenant Governor, members of the Legislature, and also two members of Congress.

Sec. 8. At the upcoming general election on November 13th, there will be elections for a Governor, Lieutenant Governor, members of the Legislature, and two members of Congress.

Sec. 9. If this constitution shall be ratified by the people of California, the legislature shall assemble at the seat of government, on the fifteenth day of December next, and in order to complete the organization of that body, the Senate shall elect a President pro tempore, until the Lieutenant Governor shall be installed into office.

Sec. 9. If the people of California ratify this constitution, the legislature will meet at the seat of government on December 15th, and to finalize the organization of that body, the Senate will elect a President pro tempore until the Lieutenant Governor takes office.

Sec. 10. On the organization of the legislature, it shall be the duty of the Secretary of State, to lay before each house a copy of the abstract made by the board of canvassers, and, if called for, the original returns of election, in order that each house may judge of the correctness of the report of said board of canvassers.

Sec. 10. Regarding the setup of the legislature, it's the responsibility of the Secretary of State to present a copy of the summary prepared by the board of canvassers to each house, and, if requested, the original election results, so that each house can evaluate the accuracy of the report from the board of canvassers.

Sec. 11. The legislature, at its first session, shall elect such officers as may be ordered by this constitution, to be elected by that body, and within four days after its organization, proceed to elect two Senators to the Congress of the United States. But no law passed by this legislature shall take effect until signed by the Governor, after his installation into office.

Sec. 11. The legislature, during its first session, will elect the officers required by this constitution, as mandated by that body, and within four days after it starts, will elect two Senators to the Congress of the United States. However, no law passed by this legislature will take effect until it is signed by the Governor after he has been officially installed in office.

Sec. 12. The Senators and Representatives to the Congress of the United States, elected by the legislature and people of California, as herein directed, shall be furnished with certified copies of this constitution, when ratified, which they shall lay before the Congress of the United States, requesting, in the name of the people of California, the admission of the State of California into the American Union.

Sec. 12. The Senators and Representatives to the Congress of the United States, elected by California's legislature and people as specified here, will receive certified copies of this constitution once it's ratified. They will present these to the Congress of the United States, asking, in the name of the people of California, for the admission of the State of California into the American Union.

Sec. 13. All officers of this State, other than members of the legislature, shall be installed into office on the fifteenth day of December next, or as soon thereafter as practicable.

Sec. 13. All state officers, except for members of the legislature, will be inaugurated on December 15th of this year, or as soon as it can be done.

Sec. 14. Until the legislature shall divide the State into counties, and senatorial and assembly districts, as directed by this constitution, the following shall be the apportionment of the two houses of the legislature, viz.: the districts of San Diego and Los Angelos shall jointly elect two senators; the districts of Santa Barbara and San Luis Obispo shall jointly elect one senator; the district of Monterey, one senator; the district of San Jose, one senator;{224} the district of San Francisco, two senators; the district of Sonoma, one senator; the district of Sacramento, four senators; and the district of San Joaquin, four senators:—And the district of San Diego shall elect one member of assembly; the district of Los Angelos, two members of assembly; the district of Santa Barbara, two members of assembly; the district of San Luis Obispo, one member of assembly; the district of Monterey, two members of assembly; the district of San Jose, three members of assembly; the district of San Francisco, five members of assembly; the district of Sonoma, two members of assembly; the district of Sacramento, nine members of assembly; and the district of San Joaquin, nine members of assembly.

Sec. 14. Until the legislature divides the State into counties and senatorial and assembly districts as specified by this constitution, the apportionment of the two houses of the legislature will be as follows: the districts of San Diego and Los Angeles will jointly elect two senators; the districts of Santa Barbara and San Luis Obispo will jointly elect one senator; the district of Monterey will elect one senator; the district of San Jose will elect one senator; {224} the district of San Francisco will elect two senators; the district of Sonoma will elect one senator; the district of Sacramento will elect four senators; and the district of San Joaquin will elect four senators. The district of San Diego will elect one member of the assembly; the district of Los Angeles will elect two members of the assembly; the district of Santa Barbara will elect two members of the assembly; the district of San Luis Obispo will elect one member of the assembly; the district of Monterey will elect two members of the assembly; the district of San Jose will elect three members of the assembly; the district of San Francisco will elect five members of the assembly; the district of Sonoma will elect two members of the assembly; the district of Sacramento will elect nine members of the assembly; and the district of San Joaquin will elect nine members of the assembly.

Sec. 15. Until the legislature shall otherwise direct, in accordance with the provisions of this constitution, the salary of the Governor shall be ten thousand dollars per annum; and the salary of the Lieutenant Governor shall double the pay of a state senator; and the pay of members of the legislature shall be sixteen dollars per diem, while in attendance, and sixteen dollars for every twenty miles travel by the usual route from their residences, to the place of holding the session of the legislature, and in returning therefrom. And the legislature shall fix the the salaries of all officers, other than those elected by the people, at the first election.

Sec. 15. Until the legislature decides otherwise, following the rules of this constitution, the Governor's salary will be ten thousand dollars a year; the Lieutenant Governor's salary will be double that of a state senator; and members of the legislature will be paid sixteen dollars for each day they attend, plus sixteen dollars for every twenty miles traveled by the standard route from their homes to the session site and back. The legislature will set the salaries for all officers, except those elected by the public, at the first election.

Sec. 16. The limitation of the powers of the legislature, contained in article 8th of this constitution, shall not extend to the first legislature elected under the same, which is hereby authorized to negotiate for such amount as may be necessary to pay the expenses of the State Government.

Sec. 16. The limits on the legislature's powers stated in article 8 of this constitution do not apply to the first legislature elected under this constitution, which is allowed to negotiate for any amount needed to cover the expenses of the State Government.

R. SEMPLE,
President of the Convention,
and Delegate from Benicia.

Wm. G. Marcy, Secretary.

J. Aram,

C.T. Botts,

E. Brown,

J.A. Carillo,

J.M. Covarrubias,

E. O. Crosby,

P. D. The War,

L. Dent,

M. Dominguez,

K.H. Dimmick,

A.J. Ellis,

S.C. Foster,

E. Gilbert,

W. M. Gwinn,

H.W. Halleck,

Julian Hanks,

L.W. Hastings,

Henry Hill,

J. Hobson,

J. McH. Hollingsworth,

J.D. Hoppe,

J.M. Jones,

T.O. Larkin,

Francis L. Lippitt,

B. S. Lippincott,

M. M. McCarver,

John McDougal,

B. F. Moore,

Myron Norton,

P. Ord,

Miguel Pedrorena,

A.M. Pico,

R.M. Price,

Hugo Reid,

Jacinto Rodriguez,

Pedro Sansevaine,

W.E. Shannon,

W.S. Sherwood,

J.R. Snyder,

A. Stearns,

W. M. Steuart,

J.A. Sutter,

Henry A. Tefft,

S.L. Vermule,

M.G. Vallejo,

J. Walker,

O. M. Wozencraft.

Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:

Typographical errors fixed by the etext transcriber:

State of Caliiornia=> State of California {pg vii}

State of California => State of California {pg vii}

A CAIFORNIAN=> A CALIFORNIAN {pg 63}

A Californian {pg 63}

my umbella=> my umbrella {pg 121}

my umbrella=> my umbrella {pg 121}

PREPARTIONS=> PREPARATIONS {pg 123}

PREPARATIONS {pg 123}

regal banquests=> regal banquets {pg 149}

regal banquets=> regal banquets {pg 149}

most delighful=> most delightful {pg 154}

most delightful=> most delightful {pg 154}

most fastidous=> most fastidious {pg 160}

most fastidious=> most fastidious {pg 160}

to the riging=> to the rigging {pg 170}

to the rigging {pg 170}

first matet=> first mate {pg 174}

first mate=> first mate {pg 174}

A HETACOMB=> A HECTACOMB {pg 184}

have praticed=> have practiced {pg 187}

have practiced=> have practiced {pg 187}

remains, consesequently=> remains, consequently {pg 188}

remains, consequently=> remains, consequently {pg 188}

very stongly=> very strongly {pg 195}

very strongly=> very strongly {pg 195}

WRONGS THEY HAVR=> WRONGS THEY HAVE {pg 201}

WRONGS THEY'VE COMMITTED {pg 201}

the themometer=> the thermometer {pg 203}

the thermometer {pg 203}

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