For a thousand ages continue preserved in this urn,
And in the remembrance of the nation.”
1850.
LIV.
TRIP TO CALIFORNIA, DEC. 20, 1850.
I left New York by mail train for Philadelphia, spent a day there, and then went on to Baltimore and Washington; Congress in session; called upon some of the members: took the train for Aquia Creek, thence by rail to Fredericksburg and Richmond; visited a few friends, and started for Wilmington, North Carolina, all by rail, without any of the inconveniences of corduroy roads as in former days. The steamer took us to Charleston; rough night; second cabin filled with negroes going south, fresh from Virginia plantations; they experienced the horrors of sea-sickness. Left Charleston the first of January, by steamer Jasper, outside passage for Savannah, and Georgia Central Railroad to Macon; passed Sunday, attended divine service there, and continued by rail to Montgomery, in comfortable cars, where more than once before I had made the same journey in open wagons, drawn through the mire by six horses; where the stage could not stand erect; broke the pole at midnight; up to knees in mud, carrying rails on the shoulder to pry out the wheels, and borrowing planters’ wagons; carrying lighted pine knots in hand, in the obscurity of the night; lying before a camp fire, upon a buffalo skin; and riding upon an iron-bound trunk, over the hind axle, for one hundred miles. Such, in winter, were Georgia pine-woods roads for travelling, before the railway was completed. Took steamer Daniel Pratt at Montgomery, capital of Alabama, for Mobile, receiving cotton at all the landings. Weather foggy and rainy—made it slippery work. An animated sight in a dark night (the steamer tied up to some tall tree on the river bank) is the sliding down of cotton bales from a high bluff, while camp fires are lighted on the banks, and the five or six furnace doors on the main deck are thrown open, and the red glare of light throws its lurid beams upon the gangs of negroes, singing sailor songs.
An amusing incident once occurred, coming down the river. The excessive rains had made the roads almost impassable. The boats were anxious to fill up with cotton freight, until the guards were under water, and the bales were piled half the height of the smoke stack; and wherever the eye rested, it was on cotton. This valuable freight could not be resisted; but the bales lay some distance up a little bayou. So all hands and a number of passengers started for the point. Each man mounted a bale and came floating down. I selected a large square one, and with two poles came paddling along safely; while some of my neighbors made poor selections, and round went the bales, and they got a good ducking, to the amusement of the bystanders.
Sunday, attended church in Mobile, and left with steamer J. L. Day for New Orleans. Among our passengers were Madame Le Vert, of Mobile, and Miss Fredrika Bremer, the Swedish authoress, who, like myself, were bound for Cuba. We were laden with cotton, mules, and other freight for New Orleans. Our steamer grounded at midnight on Cat Island, and was so belated we could not arrive in time for the departure for Havana, the next day. I took the ladies under my charge, and escorted them to the St. Charles hotel, where my friends Mr. Brown (late Consul General of Turkey) and his wife, whom I had known in Constantinople, were stopping, with the Turkish Envoy, Amin Bey and suite. Our hotel took fire on Saturday morning, the 18th, and was consumed in two hours. I had just breakfasted with the party, stepped out a half hour, when it was announced that the hotel was on fire. I rushed to the scene, and ascertained that our friends’ luggage was saved, made an effort to secure my own, and succeeded in saving the greatest proportion of it. The conflagration extended to the neighboring church and other buildings, and was terrific. Madame Le Vert requested me to telegraph to her husband, and take her to the railway, and she would return home. Miss Bremer, who fortunately was visiting friends, lost nothing, and went over to Havana in company with us. Here we found Jenny Lind, to whom Miss Bremer presented me. She had not seen her since a child, in Sweden. I had attended her concerts in New York. The steamer Ohio, Captain Porter, was present, bound for Chagres, and I embarked in her. The first day, at dinner at the captain’s table, a lady seated at my right heard my name, and asked if I was the friend of a cousin of hers, who had stated I was on my way south. I replied that I was, and was pleased to meet with her, and should be happy if I could be of service. What was my surprise, when, on going in the ladies’ saloon, I found her with her nurse and four children, the youngest sixteen months old, on her way to California; she had missed her friends, a gentleman and lady, whose boat was detained by ice in the Mississippi, and could not connect at Havana. She had paid a through passage to San Francisco, and was in great distress whether to return or proceed. I was not well myself. I had heard much of the horrors of the Isthmus; my sympathies were with the party, my reputation as an American was at stake, for courtesy towards ladies; the regard I entertained for her friend, induced me to say, “You shall proceed, and I will assume the responsibility.” With travelling experience, and a knowledge of Spanish, and such assistance as gentleman passengers could render throughout, there would be no difficulty. On our arrival in the roadstead of the dirty, filthy place, with low huts on both sides of the Chagres river, the sea was rolling in heavily, and we landed with difficulty. The children were lowered in crockery crates, and, the infant in my arms, I was suspended in a chair. I procured supplies from the steamer and purchased some ashore. We were the last to leave the ship. I chartered a dug-out, or canoe covered with palm-leaf top and tarpaulin; made my contract in Spanish with some Maracaibo natives to pole us up the stream as far as Gorgona, the price sixty dollars, half down, and half on arrival. I would not suffer them to stop at Gatoon, where the boatmen have their fandangos, but, as we were the last to leave, I insisted on beating the party and arriving ahead. We kept straight on and reached los dos Hermanos, and arrived that night at eleven P.M.; I went ashore and purchased sugar, and strolled through the small street of the village where they were slung up in hammocks, half naked. We waited at San Pablo until early break of day; I kept watch in a sitting posture in the stern of the boat, as I did not like the looks of the natives. We started in advance of the others; a beautiful morning after a rainy night in this hot climate; the scenery lovely; tropical vegetation, foliage of the trees, beautiful flowers, parrots and other birds of plumage of charming character. Difficult poling up the rapids; our men were liberally supplied and stimulated to action, and I was determined to beat the party, in consequence of their want of politeness in not assisting an unprotected family. I arrived at Gorgona in advance, made arrangements for four mules at fourteen dollars each, and three children to be carried on the shoulders of natives to Panama at ten dollars each; the luggage at nine cents per pound. We were all mounted and in the act of departure when the other boats came in sight, and up went the price of mules to sixteen dollars.
The paths were of the worst possible description—deep ravines worn down by the tread of animals, and at certain seasons impassable. The mule of the lady fell, and as I sprang to assist her the branch of a tree caught me by the neck and made an abrasion; while in the act of getting her up down came the Irish nurse spraining her wrist; she was unwilling to re-mount, and declared she was kilt intirely; by great persuasion I got her on again. Then the children separated in the woods from the mother, upon the backs of these half-naked dark-skins, and sadly distressed her. Passing over rugged roads, crossing ravines, deep gorges, the remains of dead animals and bones of mules lying by the way, we came to the tents or shanties of supplies; the occupants looked sepulchral from fever. Piles of empty bottles, were round, and disappointed Californians were returning. The natives did not want to go on, but I pushed them up to the work, anxious for my charge, and a little after sunset entered the gates of the old, desolate-looking city of Panama, and stopped at a filthy hotel. I was never more rejoiced; I had left the last from Chagres, and arrived the first at Panama with all the incumbrance, and the gentlemen voted me a leather medal. The ship Columbus, Capt. McGowan, was in port. I put the family under his protection, feeling satisfied then I had done my duty. The town was infested with gamblers who quarrelled. I heard pistol shots in the room adjoining mine at four A.M. and presently a negro policeman in pursuit of some one, pistol in hand, marched through my room, from a balcony and down the stairs.
The transit of passengers to and from California had already changed the appearance of the decayed city. The American signs were a distinguishable feature, and the movements of animals with freight and passengers, on the arrival of steamers, gave some tokens of life. I waited for the steamer Panama, Capt. Watkins, which was to stop at many points on the coast, en route for San Francisco, coasting along Costa Rica, San Salvador, and Nicaragua, thereby breaking the monotony of the voyage. We had a passage of seven days to Acapulco, where we obtained coals, fruits, and such supplies as were necessary. The heat in the Isthmus was oppressive. Fever cases not numerous, though we had several on board. It was a relief to get ashore for a day at this Mexican town, and ramble over the hills looking down upon its beautiful bowl-formed harbor, surrounded by high volcanic country; I strolled through the poor bazaars, and under the big tree where the natives were selling their fruits and wares; it looked neat, clean, and refreshing in comparison with Panama. A short walk here in an orange grove, with the sight of a few cocoa-nut trees, is a happy change from a crowded ship.
The next point was San Blas en route to Tepic; much annoyed with sand-flies. Stopped next at Mazatlan, a rather pleasant town, pretty well built; called upon some Spanish Senoritas, who occupied a pretty house and garden, and regaled us with fruits, accompanied with good music upon the piano. Dined tolerably well at a French restaurant, at California prices. Our next landing-place was San Diego. After passing Cape St. Lucas and the Gulf of California, the Pacific Ocean is no more entitled to its name. Cold winds and heavy sea, and we suffered from the effects; all the way up to Mazatlan you could see the upper deck covered with hammocks and mattresses; I counted fifty persons stretched upon deck, but afterwards went below; there was scarcely room for the three hundred and fifty passengers. The Panama fever disappeared. We were getting short of coals on the passage, and took in thirty tons at the price of fifty dollars per ton, fifteen hundred dollars. Were obliged to pay three hundred dollars for three thousand pounds of potatoes, at ten cents per pound. I strolled up the mountain which separates the bay from the ocean, and procured wild flowers for the ladies on shipboard. The hills, covered with low undergrowths of bushes, reminded me of the heather of Scotland, with an abundance of quail. The mountain torrents have produced extraordinary formations. We next entered the harbor of Monterey, California, as the sun rose, and for the first time descried the mountains of the Sierra Nevada covered with snow. The contrast between the deep blue water, and the green woodlands, and verdant lawns in the distance, struck us with delight in the first rays of morning sun. We reached the harbor of San Francisco in twenty days from Panama. I was struck with the forest of masts, which exceeded my expectation. Went ashore in small boats; all life, bustle, and activity; city growing rapidly beyond all estimate; stopped at the Union Hotel, a large brick substantial building, the best hotel in the city. Charges, boat ashore, each two dollars; baggage porter, two dollars; hotel bill, board, daily seven dollars; wine, five dollars per bottle; blacking boots, twenty-five cents; refreshments, fifty cents per glass; cigars, twenty-five cents; washing, five dollars per dozen. You will perceive they are gold-dust prices.
At the first breakfast a lady passenger sat beside me whose husband was unwell. I saw a gentleman eating eggs, and ordered a couple; the lady concluded she would try them also. Presently the servant came with a card, saying that eggs were extra; of course politeness induced me to write for four; on inquiring afterwards I was told the price was fifty cents each; the landlord paid six dollars per dozen to accommodate travellers, and if any of the eggs were bad it was a dead-loss. A soirée was given by the boarders, and well attended by gentlemen; the few ladies in the city were present; a band of music was engaged; a magnificent supper provided, with fruits, ices, and champagne in profusion. While the party was engaged in the waltzes I stepped aside for reflection, and asked myself, “Is it actual or magical, when I am told where this house now stands two years since were only seen tents; and that now a large city is rising up where recently were fisher-huts, and all through the magical power of gold!”