Sixteen months at the gold diggings

by Daniel B. Woods

may ever after be trusted. He has been tried as gold is tried, and the trial has but served to exhibit the excellence of his character; and well may his friends esteem and love him more, even if he returns to them without an ounce of gold, than if he came home with his thousands with a ruined character.

As I entered one of the magnificent gambling saloons of San Francisco, and proceeded from one table to another, I saw, to my surprise, a young man, who had come from one of the most religious families in his native city, placing down his money upon the table. I stepped to his side. In a moment the card was turned, and a small amount of silver was added to that already in his hand. He looked anxiously at me, and said, “I would not have my mother know what I am doing for all the money in this room.” “Why then do it?” I asked; “have you thought to what the first step may lead?” “But what can I do,” he said, earnestly; “I came not here to gamble, but to find amusement; and can you tell me what other amusement is within my reach?” I think that was the first, and am sure it was the last time that my friend visited the saloons for the purpose of gambling. But it affords an illustration of the subject—the danger, in the absence of proper subjects of interest and amusement, of seeking these in wrong and sinful ways. Many a person in California becomes a professed gambler in consequence of taking the first step from desire of amusement. It can not be impressed upon your mind too deeply that the gambling table is the place of the greatest danger. It is one of the most ensnaring inventions of the great enemy of souls.

But how shall I speak of a kindred subject, so fraught with danger that numbers of our most gifted citizens have yielded themselves to it. I think intemperance may be named as, next to gambling, the most prevailing vice of California. They generally go hand in hand. In this country, where the common restraints are removed which formerly imposed a salutary check, this vice gains disgusting and dangerous prominence. All that it is in its secluded orgies, all that it becomes in its favorite haunts elsewhere, it is in California in open day. It blushes not to show itself in its most fearful forms even in the public streets. Many a poor miner, who becomes discouraged and sinks down into gloom, flies to strong drink as he would to a friend from whom he expects to receive relief. Occasionally, the Daguerreotype likenesses of dear friends at home, or the sight of the neglected Bible—(for most miners have both of these, almost their only treasures)—or the reception of a letter, the miner’s only luxury, recalls him to his better self, puts new hopes, new resolutions, and new life into him. But gradually he yields the ground again; again he stands on slippery places, and soon he staggers into his grave, for soon does vice of every kind perfect its work here. Licentiousness, which is so destructive an evil in large cities in Europe and America, is found also in California, and there produces its bitter fruits. Profanity—a kind of its own; a bold, independent, and startling profanity—is far too common in the mines, as it is in the settlements. Several have told me that they have fallen into this habit unconsciously, and, in some instances, have asked, as an act of friendship, that I would aid them in correcting it. In one case, a company of young men from New England mutually pledged themselves to each other and to me to refrain from this habit. For the very reason that it is so insinuating, and creeps so gradually upon one, should it be more sedulously avoided. In my own case, I could perceive that the constant listening to profane language produced a familiarity which continually lessened the sense of repugnance it occasioned. This would have been more and more the case, had I not adopted an expedient, which, while it aimed at the good of others, had the effect to guard my own mind against the moral contagion. The expedient which I adopted was this: when I heard a profane oath, I accompanied it with a petition to Heaven in behalf of him who had uttered it.

No man, young or old, should go to California unless he has firmness of principle enough to resist, and forever hold at bay, all the vices of the country, in whatever disguise they may present themselves, and in however fascinating shapes they may appear.

If I were asked what was the state of religion in the mines, I could only say, it is in no state. There are many men there who maintain their integrity and their piety. If there is preaching, it is well and respectfully attended. Many, perhaps most, occasionally read their Bibles or tracts. There is a respect for religion, as there is a respect for every thing which reminds one of home; but society must be in a very different condition—it must be settled, and have some elements of permanence—before a decidedly religious influence can be brought to bear upon it. When I say that the sound of the pick, spade, and rocker are seldom heard on the Sabbath—that the Bible is often and devoutly read—that often, from beneath some cluster of trees, the cheering sound of some hymn and the preacher’s voice are heard, it is as much as can be said.

As to the operation of the laws at the mines, and their effects upon the interests of the community, I can only give the facts in the case, without discussing the subject. When we first reached the gold diggings, life and property were comparatively secure. Without law, except the law of honor; without restraint, except that imposed by the fear of summary punishment, which was sure to follow the only crimes cognizable under the new code—those of stealing and of murder—we were comparatively safe. If the “way of the transgressor was hard,” it was also speedily terminated. It was the reign of the rifle and the halter. And yet this was a people who had been accustomed to the laws of civilized countries, and who yet loved order. The principles of a republican government were only adapting themselves to a new and untried emergency. The crime was committed, and proved in the presence of a competent and impartial jury, who were also required to award the punishment. The sentence was pronounced by the alcalde, a grave was dug, the sharp crack of the rifle was heard, the body was buried, and every man proceeded silently to his own work. I have never yet heard of the case in which the verdict given under the first system was an unrighteous one, or the punishment inflicted undeserved.

But a change came; civil laws were enacted in the mines; and what was the result? Why, crimes of every kind were committed, and the very officers of justice were met by the taunt, “Catch me, if you can!” Seldom was the criminal caught; and when caught, more seldom was he brought to punishment. And there is but one opinion among the miners, that the system without civil law, but with summary justice, is, in the state of society which now exists in California, incomparably better than the system with such law, but without justice.

Ere long, California will have a truly golden age, when law and justice, and every moral and Christian virtue shall prevail.

APPENDIX.

I give extracts from a letter which was written by Rev. Dr. Hitchcock, president of Amherst College, as containing some valuable hints to the miner. The reader will be struck by the accuracy of the opinions so early expressed, and which correspond so exactly with the facts since developed. It will be considered that Dr. Hitchcock could not then have seen even the first official report from the Mint, as it was some time after the receipt of his letter that the author had the pleasure of hearing Dr. Patterson read that report in manuscript. The first deposit of gold was made at the Mint December 8th, and the letter is dated December 25th, 1848.