Sixteen months at the gold diggings

by Daniel B. Woods

Dec. 4th. There was a large fall of snow last night, which pressed so heavily upon our tent that it fell in upon us; but we kept our beds till morning, the bank of snow above us adding not a little to the warmth of our blankets. I went down, after breakfast, to the diggings, and brushing away the snow, and breaking the ice, attempted to wash out some gold in a pan; but I made nothing. Becoming thoroughly chilled, with my hands and feet frost-bitten, I returned to my tent; but here it is almost as bad. The canvas, of which our tent is made, is under the snow, our provisions scarce, the fire out, and the day very cold. Two of my companions, feeling the pressure of hunger, went to the tent of an acquaintance, where they found some venison steaks and bread, which had been left at breakfast. They made their dinner from these, being comforted by the thought that some ciote or stray dog would bear the blame. What renders our situation more deplorable is the want of proper clothing. Good boots are so scarce that $96 are readily given for a pair.

A miner related in my hearing to-day the manner in which he employed others to work for him. He marked off a claim ten feet square, and commenced digging in one corner of it. Finding it likely to be a more serious job than he anticipated, and being tired of it, and yet not willing to abandon it without knowing what lay at the bottom, he concealed several pieces of gold, one weighing two ounces, in a corner of his claim. Watching his opportunity when several persons were near, he artfully uncovered one of the lumps, seeming, at the same time, anxious to conceal it. In a few moments several spectators were eyeing his movements. Soon he turned up two or three more small pieces, and then the larger one. In ten minutes the ground all about him was marked off, and many picks and shovels were employed in prospecting for him, while he went back to his tent, pleased with the success of his maneuver. Several good offers were made him for his claim, and, had he been so disposed, he might have made a good bargain; but he was satisfied with the amount of labor he thus procured. In many cases the grossest impositions have been practiced. Persons have scattered gold in the dirt of a claim they held, then have offered it for a high price, exhibiting a pan full of the rich soil as a specimen. We have now spent many days at Aqua Frio without finding any prospect of success; on the contrary, being involved in debt; and have determined to break up our camp, and, disposing of our tents, cooking utensils, &c., to retrace our steps toward Stockton. One of our company is disposed a little longer to try his fortunes—or rather his misfortunes—at the Marepoosa mines. Another remains in his lonely grave. All the others, excepting myself, intend to return to San Francisco, and, as soon as they are able, to leave for home.

On Monday, Dec. 10th, we started with a mule-train bound for Stockton, which took a few pounds of freight for us, while I packed twenty pounds upon my back. The first day we traveled fifteen miles over the mountains, and saw hundreds going to and from the mines. Burns’s tent was so filled with travelers that we were compelled to sleep out in the open air, which was so severely cold that the water froze by our side. The next night we slept at Montgomery’s ranch, after walking twenty-three miles. Spreading our blankets down upon the ground, beneath a canvas roof, we slept so closely packed that no person could have stepped between us. For breakfast we had tea, hard bread, beans, and pork, and a few pickles, for all which we paid $2 each. The following day we traveled in the rain twenty-five miles, fording the Tuolumne. My companions had all dropped behind, half frozen and tired out, seeking shelter and rest in some trading or eating tents we had passed. I pushed on with the mule-train, hoping at night to reach a comfortable shelter; but night found us completely exhausted, and far from any settlement. The company traveling with the mule-train had a tent, but there was no spare room which they could offer me. I had to make up my mind to spend the night alone in the drenching rain, and it was a night I shall never forget. A large log-fire was burning, by which I sat till a late hour, when I happened to remember that I had seen a large hollow tree by the road side, at some little distance from our camp. Taking a blazing brand, I went and examined the tree, and found that the hollow would afford my body a shelter by sitting upright, and leaving my feet exposed to the rain. I kindled a fire, collecting some brush and bark with which to replenish it during the night. Then, with the ax I had borrowed, I removed a quantity of dead leaves and filthy rubbish accumulated at the bottom of my cavern. To my alarm, I found among this rubbish fresh marks of a large bear, which had lately found refuge here from a storm such as now drove me to its shelter. But there seemed no alternative, and I thought, besides, that my fire would be a protection against wild beasts; so I wrapped my blankets about me, and, sinking down into my novel bed, with my feet in a cold bath, I listened to the pattering of the rain, thinking of those far away. Soon my fire began to fail, and I had placed the last piece of bark upon it, and fallen asleep. When I awoke it was pouring in torrents, and my fire was entirely out. Then came thoughts of the bear, and I instinctively drew in my legs, not wishing to place temptation within his reach, should he be prowling about me. It would not do; I was nearly frozen; the water began to find its way into my bed, which I apprehended I should soon be compelled to share with old Bruin. Then it was so dark. I got up, took my blankets over my arm, and started to return to the log-fire, which I saw dimly burning in the distance. In my haste, I forgot that there was a bend in the bank of the stream below us, making it necessary for me to take a circuit round in order to reach my companions. I soon found myself lodged among the bushes and stones at the bottom of the bank. Then came over me a nervous feeling like a nightmare, and I could already feel myself in the grasp of the grisly bear—his claws and teeth were in my flesh. Dropping my ax, and every thing but my blankets, and losing one of my shoes, I began an imaginary scramble and flight from my imaginary pursuer. The remainder of the night I passed, wrapped up in my blankets, by the log-fire. A walk of twelve miles the day following brought me to the Stanislaus, where I was to separate from my companions, who had not yet come up—they going on to Stockton, and I to the Stanislaus diggings. The rain continued to pour down. Little dreamed our friends at home of our situation then! With scarcely a dollar in our pockets, a long journey before us, cold, hungry, and wet, our oppressed hearts were ready to sink. Alas! little did I anticipate what a gloomy future was before two of those companions! One of them was the only and the idolized son of his parents, and tenderly and dearly loved by his sisters. His home possessed every comfort and convenience. He had come far from his father’s house to perish with hunger. He resolved, “I will arise and go to my father.” But that father and that heart-broken mother he was no more to see. A year after we parted—and oh! what a year of suffering and privation must that have been—with that companion of his boyhood and youth, he reached Chagres in most destitute circumstances. To raise money enough to take him home, he engaged as a boatman on the river, took the fever, and died. In consequence of my recent exposure, I had a severe cold, and was entirely unable to travel; yet I had no means of paying my expenses at a ranch. Under these circumstances, I crossed the Stanislaus, went to the ranch of Mr. George Islip, a gentleman from Canada, and told him my situation. “Give yourself no uneasiness,” he said; “you are welcome as long as you choose to remain with us; all I request of you is that you will feel yourself at home.” I passed a very pleasant week with this noble-hearted man, and was treated as a brother. The wind had blown down his house, and torn the canvas roof to ribbons, and we were without shelter from the pelting rain; but warm fires, kept up in the middle of the temporary shelter, made us comfortable. To protect my body from the rain, I would creep under the table, managing to keep my feet near the fire. After a week of interesting and wild adventure, I was set over the river by my friend, and started for the mines again. The roads were very muddy, and the streams forded with difficulty. In my first day’s walk I passed three wagons which were mired—a common occurrence at this season of the year. There were many dead animals by the road side. My Christmas eve I spent most cheerlessly at Green Spring, and the next day reached Woods’s diggings. On the 26th Dec. I visited Sullivan’s diggings, Jamestown, Yorktown, and Curtis’s Creek. A residence in this portion of the mines was, in every way, more desirable than in the more distant mines at this season. Provisions were cheaper, and there was less danger of attacks from the Indians. All the places I have mentioned, together with the Chinese diggings, Mormon Gulch, Sonora, and others, were a cluster of mines lying near to each other, and between the Stanislaus and Tuolumne Rivers. At each of these places were trading tents and dwellings of the miners, chiefly of canvas, with some log and hide houses, and one or two frame buildings. Sonora is the principal of these, the residence chiefly of Mexicans and Chilinos, of whom there are some twelve thousand. Here are furnished provisions, clothing, tools, &c., at almost as low rates as at Stockton. Its hotels, restaurants, and trading tents presented a very busy appearance; and there is no place in the mines where gambling is so much the business. Some comfortable houses have been erected here. After visiting all the mines, and finding but indifferent prospects at any of them, I located myself at Curtis’s Creek, to labor in the winter diggings. I was without a companion, and had heard of a gentleman from New England who was desirous of sharing his tent and provisions with some one. He had been out of health, but was supposed to be improving. My name had been mentioned to him by a friend before I arrived, and he had expressed a desire to enter into such an arrangement as might be of mutual advantage. He was considered a man of great intelligence and worth; and it was partly with the hope of having him as a mining companion that I had visited Curtis’s. His tent was a mile from the settlement. Taking my roll of blankets, I walked over to see him. Judge of my surprise, on reaching his tent, and raising the curtains at the entrance, and stepping in, to find myself standing before a corpse, laid out upon a hammock! I learned from a colored man, who soon came in, that Mr. H. had died half an hour before. He was alone, and seemed to have just been reaching from his bed for something. The last sentiment to which he gave utterance was, “I believe I left home a moral and a religious man; I have brought morality and religion with me, and, with God’s assistance, I will keep them to the last.” Neither he nor others supposed that he was dangerously sick. With the black man, I went out, and we selected a spot beneath a large tree, and there we dug his grave. The noon of the next day was the time named for the funeral, and notice accordingly was sent to the various mines near by. It being impracticable to provide a coffin, the body was wrapped in several blankets, and a quantity of pine boughs spread at the bottom of the grave. At the time appointed for the burial, most of the miners might be seen leaving their various employments, and slowly walking in small groups toward the grave. Another group—the bearers and friends—met them, and all proceeded together on the way. How solemn and impressive, under those circumstances, “the burial service” of the Church, which was then performed. An appropriate hymn was sung, and the body laid in its last repose, then covered with pine boughs, and the grave was filled up. Having purchased the tent and a part of the provisions, I spent the two following days, assisted by a friend—young Dr. R., of New Jersey—in removing the tent, and preparing for the labors of mining. On the Sunday following—the 30th Dec.—I was requested to go over to Woods’s diggings and attend the funeral of a young man from Philadelphia. We had formerly both listened together to the faithful preaching of the Rev. Mr. Fowles. Could it have been anticipated, as I fixed my eye upon that healthy, intelligent countenance at the close of the services, that in the wilds of California I should so soon be called to pronounce over him the solemn sentence—in this case sadly solemn—“Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust!” The brother of young A. was with him at the mines, but he died alone. The next morning, the last of the year, Dr. R. and myself started upon a prospecting excursion; and we returned at night as wise, as rich, and a little more tired than we were when we left in the morning.

Jan. 1st, 1850. It has rained hard all day. Engaged in washing and mending clothes, cooking, writing, and reading. Before we separated for the night, my friend, Dr. R., requested me to conduct “family worship.” It was a simple request and a simple act, like every act of faith, and appropriate to our situation and to the day, being the first of the year. Only those who have experienced it, especially in a situation like ours, know of the refreshing fountain of comfort which springs up in the soul while kneeling before the throne of “our Father in heaven.” It was family prayer; and we realized the delightful import of this expression. The Being to whom we addressed our prayers was at that moment looking with an eye of love upon each member of our dear families at home, and our prayers would bring peace, protection, and blessings to them. It was family prayer; and at that moment we felt the privilege of being united with the great and happy family that worship the glorious and good Being who loves and cares for all.

Jan. 2d. During the last night there was a robbery in the settlement, which caused great excitement. A miner, formerly from Ohio, but who had been many years in Oregon, where he had a pleasant home, had been induced, by the hope of making a rapid fortune, to sell his valuable property, and, taking his large family, to remove to the mines. There, by hard labor and trading, he had laid up about $4000. Most of this sum was in a trunk at the foot of the bed in their tent. During the night this trunk was taken, and the next morning was found at some distance, broken open, and the money gone. A boarder was immediately arrested on suspicion, but, after a well-conducted trial, was released. We have made 37 cents each.

Jan. 3d. It has rained hard most of the day, and there was some thunder, a very unusual occurrence in California. Spent a part of the day and all the evening with Dr. R., singing, reading, &c. At the close of our pleasant interview, again we “lifted the heart and bent the knee” in prayer to Almighty God. In our visits to each other on these rainy days, like the ladies at home, we often take our sewing with us. To-day I took a pair of stockings to darn, one of my shoes to mend, and the “Democratic Review” to read. While we plied our needles, our tongues were equally busy speaking of mutual friends and hopes.

Jan. 4th. It has been clear to-day, but, owing to the high state of the water, we could do but little. I have been favored with an introduction to Captain Wadsworth, of Connecticut, a descendant of the captain of the same name who is famous for having concealed the charter of the colony in the Charter Oak. He cordially invited me to share with him a pleasant house which he had spent some weeks in building, and which was more comfortable than any thing I had seen in the mines. The house was about ten feet square, inclosed by split rails, driven into the ground perpendicularly side by side, and filled in with clay, the whole covered with a tight canvas roof stretched over the rafters. The chimney was large, and, when well filled with blazing wood, imparted an air of comfort to every thing. We enjoyed luxuries uncommon in the mines—a table and chairs. I soon found myself at home here.

Jan. 5th. It rained again; but we could not afford to be idle, though we made a mere trifle by severe and exposing labor. To-night we have weighed our week’s earnings, and find that they amount to $1 80. It is more trying to the miner to be compelled to spend a day in idleness than to engage in the most severe labor, even though that labor be unprofitable. I have often been driven out by my own anxious thoughts to work in a severe rain.

Jan. 6th, Sunday. A cloudy, unpleasant day. This forenoon, made a “duff;” but what was to be done for a string with which to tie the bag? I looked every where, but in vain. At last I thought of my shoe-string, which I used for this purpose. When all was ready, I found that the duff was too large for the kettle, so I boiled one end first, and then turned the other, and boiled that.

Jan. 7th. Prospected with Captain Wadsworth at the Chilian diggings. This is an open, level field, through which a stream formerly ran, but which now has so little water that many of the miners take the dirt to the river to be washed. Here was a large settlement of Chilinos, who have come from their own gold mines to try their fortune here. They often bring their families with them. I saw one family, the father of which, assisted by the older children, was “panning out” gold on a stream near his rude home made of hides. The mother was washing clothes, while the infant was swinging in a basket made fast to the branches overhead. An interesting girl of five years, with a tiny pick and spade, was digging in a hole, already sunk two feet, and putting the dirt in a pan, which she would take to the stream and wash, putting the scale or two of gold into a dipper a little larger than a thimble. A heavy rain drove us home, wet and cold. It continued to rain, with a few intervals, during the remainder of the week; but a trunk of valuable books, owned by Captain Wadsworth, served to occupy our minds. These employments, with the writing of letters, singing, roasting our coffee, cooking, visiting, &c., filled up the hours of these rainy days. We have made, the whole week, $3 each.