"A frenzy seized my soul, unbidden my legs performed some entirely new movements of polka steps. * * Houses were too small for me to stay in. I was soon in the street in search of necessary outfits; piles of gold rose up before me at every step."
All yielded more or less to the subtle influence of the malady. Men hastened to arrange their affairs, dissolving partnerships, disposing of real estate, and converting other effects into ready means for departure.
Stores were rummaged for miners' tools.
One man offered as high as fifty dollars for a shovel. By the middle of June, San Francisco was without male population. The once bustling little town looked as if struck by a plague. Sessions of the town council were at an end. There were no church services. Stores were closed. Newspapers dropped out of existence. Merchandise lay unhandled on the docks. The sailors deserted the ships that lay at anchor in the bay.
One day a Peruvian bark came to anchor in the port. Amazed at the desolation which he beheld, the captain inquired the cause. He was answered, "Everybody has gone northward, where the valleys and mountains are of gold." Instantly upon hearing this marvellous assertion his own crew joined the innumerable throng.
VIEW IN WOODWARD'S GARDENS. SAN FRANCISCO.
The San Francisco Star of May 27, 1848, says:
"Stores are closed and places of business vacated, a large number of houses are tenantless, various kinds of mechanical labor suspended or given up entirely, and nowhere the pleasant hum of industry salutes the ear as of late. * * Everything in San Francisco wears a desolate and sombre look; everywhere all is dull, monotonous, dead."
Apparently the Californian of that day was thoroughly imbued with the saying of the Cyclops, "The wise know nothing worth worshipping but wealth."