San Francisco, Looking East from the Westward Hills toward San José
May 30, 1850
San Francisco. December 25th 1849. Christmas Day! Happy Christmas! Merry Christmas! Not that here, to me at any rate, in this pandemonium of a city. Not a lady to be seen, and the women, poor things, sad and silent, except when drunk or excited. The place full of gamblers, hundreds of them, and men of the lowest types, more blasphemous, and with less regard for God and his commands than all I have ever seen on the Mississippi, [in] New Orleans or Texas, which give us the same class to some extent, it is true; but instead of a few dozen, or a hundred, gaming at a time, here, there are thousands, and one house alone pays one hundred and fifty thousand dollars per annum for the rent of the "Monte" tables.
Sunday makes no difference, certainly not Christmas, except for a little more drunkenness, and a little extra effort on the part of the hotel keepers to take in more money.
I spent the morning looking over my journal, and regret it has been kept so irregularly, yet, as I read it, and recall my experiences since last March, I wonder that I have been able to keep it at all. I dined with Havens, Mr. McLea, Lieut. Browning and Henry Mallory, and you may be sure home was in our thoughts all the time, even if other topics of conversation were on our lips. It seemed impossible for me to shake off my depression.
December 26th. I was not made more cheerful by finding that our agents had so conducted our affairs that instead of finding all our provisions and implements nicely stored, and in good order, waiting for us, I discovered that all that was most useful to us had been sold, and the balance lay about in the wet and mud, or was rotting, half dry for want of the requisite cover. The expenses had eaten up the money procured by the sales, or so we were told, and I found myself with forty men to take care of and in debt. I was on the point of breaking up the company, and letting every man shift for himself, but felt that it was neither brave nor honorable, so decided to make one more effort. I drew on my brother for one thousand dollars, borrowed all I could from the boys who had brought their own mules on with them, and concluded to take all who were not mechanics with me to the mines; the mechanics had, without exception, found work instantly at exorbitant prices. They were to keep half they made, and pay in the other half to the company. I have been offered thirty-five dollars a day to draw plans for houses, stores, etc., but though I never intended to go to the mines myself, I feel now for the sake of the men who stood by me, that I must stay by them. My paints and canvas have been left on the desert, my few specimens lost or thrown away; and lack of time, and the weakness produced by my two illnesses at Monterey and Parras, and the monotonous food, have robbed me of all enthusiasm; often I had to force myself to swallow the little I did, knowing I must if I was to get through at all.
Van Horn and Dr. Perry will remain in San Francisco and the men who go up to the mines with me, are Havens, Layton, Hewes, Bloomfield, McGown, Lee, Watkinson, Jno. R. Lambert, Jos. Lambert, J. S. Lambert, Hutchinson, Damon, Jno. Stevens, Cree, Van Buren, Ayres, Hinckley, Jno. Stevenson, Black, Liscomb, Elmslie, E. A. Lambert, Dr. Trask, Steele, Weed, Henry Mallory, Mitchell, Walsh, Valentine, Simson, McCusker, Tone, Hudson, Pennypacker, Clement, Boggs, Lieut. Browning, with myself, thirty-eight in number.
December 29th. We left San Francisco in the same steamer we had travelled on from Stockton. The week's rain over, with the bay like a mirror, and a clear sky over all, it was an enchanting scene. I thought with gratitude of the kindness I had received from Messrs. Chittenden, Edmondson, McLea and many others; not only had they frequently made me their guest, but they had given me most valuable information and advice, in reference to my future proceedings.
As we moved off I could see the whole town situated on high hills facing the bay, to the southeast on one side, to the southwest on the other. I could almost fancy as we made our way to the open bay through the crowd of vessels, that I could hear the chink, chink of dollars as the gamblers put them down on the Monte tables, and a picture of the whole place, a regular Inferno, came before me as plainly as if I actually saw it. Every house, with rare exceptions, letting out their bar-rooms as well as all other available space, for gambling purposes, immense rents being paid for a mere shell of a house. In some of the hotels one hundred dollars a day was paid for space to place a single Monte table; but I will leave all this, and sail on over the beautiful bay towards the east, which sends the gold that makes this hell-hole of crime and dissipation.