A Voyage round the World / A book for boys

by William Henry Giles Kingston

One fine morning we found the Triton—one of a crowd of vessels of all rigs and sizes—standing in with a fair breeze towards the far-famed harbour of San Francisco. High black rocks ran out of the sea before us, like monsters guarding the entrance to that domain of boundless wealth. Loud roars, too, saluted our ears, which, on a further examination of the rocks, were found to proceed from a large congregation of sea-lions assembled at their bases. As we glided by, not fifty fathoms from some of the rocks, they looked up at us with inquiring eyes, as if to know why we had come there; and, certainly, from their formidable heads, they appeared as if they were well able to defend their native territory. Jerry could not resist the temptation of firing his rifle among them. It had a wonderful effect on the whole body; big and little sea-lions, and cows, and seals, all began floundering away in the greatest dismay into the water—their awkward-looking movements being very amusing; at the same time, thousands of birds, which had been perched on the rocks, or floating in the water, rose into the air, with loud screams, circling round our heads; while porpoises, or some other huge monsters of the deep, kept gambolling around us, and now and then leaping out of the water in sportive humour.

All this exhibition of wild animal life was, it must be remembered, within a few miles of the rich and populous city of San Francisco. The transition was very great; yet but a short time back a rude fort and a few small huts were the only settled abodes of man. The actual harbour begins at a spot called the Golden Gate, where a high rock with a flat summit projects into the water. On it the American Government are constructing a fort, which no hostile vessel will be able to pass with impunity. Passing this point, we saw before us on the right a perfect forest of masts, with every flag under the sun flying aloft; and behind them appeared, on a low hill rising like an amphitheatre from the harbour, the far-famed city itself. It was a busy, exciting scene. Some of the vessels brought bands of English adventurers; others crowds of Chinese, with round felt hats and long tails; others Malays; and some even seemed to have blacks on board. At a short distance from the city were moored several large ships, their masts struck, their rigging unrove, deserted by their crews, and some by their officers likewise. The doctor, Jerry, and I, were the only persons who accompanied the captain on shore. The mates remained to guard against all risk of any of the crew deserting. It was only just daylight when we landed, but all the world was astir. Time is considered too precious here to lose a moment. The town itself presented an extraordinary collection of strong contrasts: there were wooden sheds, and tents, and mud hovels, mixed up with vast stores and large dwelling-houses; while carts, and waggons, and coaches of every variety of build were moving about in all directions, among people from every part of Europe—Germans, Italians, French, Greeks, and English—the latter, of course, predominating as to numbers; Yankees, with their keen, intelligent looks; Californians, in their serapes; Mexicans, with their laced breeches and cuffs; and Chilians, in broad-brimmed hats; Sandwich Islanders, and Negroes from every part of Africa; Chinese, with their long tails and varied coloured robes; and Malays and other people from the East. Indeed, Europe, Asia, Africa, and America were there fully represented,—all brought together for the one object—a search for gold—all thinking of their own business, and caring little or nothing for anybody else, so that their aims were not interfered with. Those who had been to the diggings were pretty clearly to be distinguished by the one dark brown earthy hue which pervaded their dress, and such parts of their countenances as their huge tangled beards and whiskers allowed to be visible.

We first went to the market, to obtain provisions for the ship. It was already crowded with purchasers. There was a magnificent display of fruit and vegetables, and fish of all sorts and strange shapes, and huge lobsters and turtle of a size to make an alderman’s mouth water; and then in the meat-market there were hung up before the butchers’ stalls huge elks with their superb antlers, and great big brown bears—just such monsters as the one we saw captured, for they are considered dainties here—and beautiful antelopes, and squirrels, and hares, and rabbits in vast heaps—not to speak of pigs, and sheep, and oxen. The beef, we heard, was, and found to be, excellent. I mention these things to show how the inhabitants of a vast city like San Francisco, though just sprung into existence, can, by proper arrangement, be fed. A large number of the shops are kept by Chinese, who sell all the fancy and ornamental work, and act as washerwomen. They are said to be great rogues, and are, under that pretext, often cruelly treated by greater rogues than themselves. It is a sad thing to see heathen people coming among nominal Christians, who, paying no regard to the religion they are supposed to profess, prevent them from wishing to inquire into the truth of a faith they might, with a good example before them, be tempted to adopt. One Chinese appeared to us so much like another, with their thick lips, little slits of eyes, ugly parchment faces, in which age makes no perceptible difference, that it seemed as if we were meeting the same person over and over again. The signs over their shops are written in Chinese, and translated into the oddest English and Spanish I ever saw. One of the features in the street population of this city which struck us were the shoe-blacks. Each is provided with a comfortable arm-chair and a newspaper. He slips his employer into the chair, hands him the paper to read, and then kneeling down, works away till he has polished the leather boots; for which his demand is a quarter of a dollar—the smallest coin in circulation, it seemed to us. The sum is paid without a word; off walks the man with the clean boots, and one with a dirty pair soon takes his place.

There is no want of restaurants and cafés, or of places where food in abundance could be procured, though the price was rather astonishing. Captain Frankland had some business to transact with a merchant—he left us at one of them to dine. When he rejoined us, he told us that he would take us to a scene in which he hoped we should never be tempted to mix. We went out, and soon reached a magnificent building, full of spacious halls, with an orchestra keeping up a succession of attractive airs. Making our way, not without difficulty, through the crowd, we saw before us several long, green-covered tables, surrounded by people, who appeared to be engaged in playing, on a grand scale, every conceivable game of chance. Never did I see countenances so palpably expressive of the worst passions of our evil nature. The keepers of the banks were evidently villains of the darkest dye. They sat with their revolvers on the table, guarding the heaps of gold before them, as they skilfully managed the cards and dice over which they presided. The captain assured us that they and those in league with them—the professional players—always contrived to collect the largest proportion of the gold in circulation—many of their foolish victims dissipating in one evening all the hard-earned gains of a year. There were ladies, too, among them, gambling as eagerly as the men—dishonouring their sex. The sight of those countenances and the whole air of the place was sickening. “Fifty ounces”—“A hundred”—“Two hundred ounces”—were the words we heard repeated on every side. Presently a man started up—a fine, handsome young fellow—from before whom a heap of gold had been swept, clutching his hair. “And I was to have started for home to-morrow. O Mary!” he exclaimed, unconsciously, as he passed us. There was the report of a pistol—a cry. The young man was picked up dead at the door. The players went on as before, scarcely turning their heads to hear the account. Who the unhappy youth was, no one knew. We had seen enough to answer the captain’s object in taking us to the place. We strolled on through the city till we reached the Chinese quarter. There, also, we were attracted by a strange noise intended for music, produced by two stringed-fiddles, violoncellos, drums, and gongs, into a building—a very shabby place; yet in the centre was a table with heaps of gold upon it, and surrounded by a number of odd little men in wide jackets, short trousers, long tails at their backs, huge embroidered slippers on their feet, all deeply engaged, as if some most serious matter were going forward—their queer eyes twinkling with mistrust as they followed the course of a game which was being played. In the middle of the table was a heap of counters covered by a bowl, under which the players put their hands, and drew out a number of them at a time, which they counted with a long stick, and then the heaps of money changed owners, but on what grounds we could in no way discover.

“You laugh at those odd little Chinese, and think them fail objects to joke about,” observed the captain; “but we must remember that they are men with souls to be saved, responsible beings, like the unhappy people in that gorgeous saloon we were in just now. The vice in which we have seen them indulging is the same, though, as their light is less, they may be less to blame. My hope is, that what you have seen to-night will make you wish never to see the same sights again.”

In the public room of the hotel, where we remained for the night, a number of people were collected from all parts of the world. Some had been at the diggings; some had made money; several had come back as poor as they went, and much the worse in health; others were about to go up to try their fortunes, with secret hopes of succeeding where others had failed. The conversation of many of them was very amusing. One man especially interested us by the account he gave of his first journey up the country. He was evidently, from the tone of his voice and manners, a gentleman by education, though in appearance as rough and weather-beaten as a navvy who has put on a black coat for Sunday. He addressed himself to us, as he probably thought that we had come out to turn gold-diggers, and he wished to warn us of the dangers to be encountered.

“I had a good appointment in England, but I wanted to become rich in a hurry, so I threw it up, and came out here,” he began. “You may doubt the wisdom of the proceeding; so do I now. I had a companion, and with him and the mate of the ship I arrived in, as also her carpenter and a Chinese boy, I arranged to go up the country. With the implements we had provided, and as much food as we could carry, we got on board a small schooner, bound up the river to Stockton. We had on board a strange assemblage of people. Many of them looked quite capable of cutting our throats. They were mostly armed, and bowie-knives and revolvers were constantly exhibited. When after two days’ voyage we landed, we were glad to get into a wretched hut, where we could obtain food, and rest, and shelter, to prepare ourselves for our tramp to the diggings. We remained only one day, for the charges were so high at the inn that we should have been ruined had we stayed longer. Of the forty people who had come up in the schooner, very few accompanied us. We found a party of about thirty starting, with five or six mules carrying provisions. We joined ourselves to them. Each of us had a rifle slung to his back, in addition to a week’s provisions and our mining utensils, while our pistols and knives were stuck in our belts. We went on for two days pretty easily. I shall never forget the appearance of some people we met, who had come overland from the western states of America,—their haggard eyes, long matted hair, shrunk forms, and tattered clothes, which hung on them like loose rags fluttering in the wind. They were the remnants of a large party, the greater number of whom with their horses and cattle had died on the way, from the hardships they had to encounter. The latter part of the road, they said, was strewed with the whitening bones of men and animals, broken-down waggons, and abandoned furniture. The next day’s journey gave us a specimen of what those poor fellows had endured. The sun came out with intense fury, and struck scorching down on our heads. Not a drop of water could be got. There was a pool, we were told, some way on. We reached the spot: it was dry. Our thirst grew intolerable. Those who had been accustomed to take spirits suffered more than the rest. We lay down that night at a place where there was no wood. We had no fire, therefore, to cook our provisions. We could not eat the meat we had brought with us raw. All night long the wolves howled horribly in our ears. At daybreak we arose and pushed on. There was a water-hole, we were told, a few miles ahead. We reached the spot: it was dry. Many who had hitherto held out gave way to despair. The muleteers had skins with water, but they guarded them, revolver in hand, to moisten their own and their mules’ lips. Their lives depended on those of their animals. A few of us had flasks, but we could only venture to take a drop of the precious fluid at a time. One man had a bottle of brandy. He boasted at first of his cleverness in having secured it. Now, he went about offering the whole of it for a drop of water. Several of the brandy drinkers sank down. They had agreed to keep together. They implored us to help them. A deaf ear was turned to their entreaties. Our own lives depended on our hastening on. Three or four others dropped by the way, one by one. No one waited for them. ‘On, on, on!’ was the cry; ‘Water, water, water!’ At length, towards evening, the mules pricked up their ears: trees appeared in the distance. We hurried on. A glittering stream gladdened our sight. We rushed into it, greedily lapping up the water. Our mules drank eagerly. We felt revived and strengthened. There was abundance of wood: we lighted a fire and dressed our provisions. Several birds, and two or three animals were shot to increase our feast.

“Ha, ha, ha, how we laughed. To-morrow, we said, we shall be able to push on to the mines, and begin to dig for gold. In an instant every one was talking of gold. ‘Gold, gold, gold,’ was heard on every side. Did any one think of the poor wretches we had left dying on the road—men—brethren by nature, by a common faith—men with souls? Not one of us thought of going back. At all events, not one of us offered to go back. An all-powerful loadstone was dragging us on—the lust of getting gold. Had we gone back to relieve our fellow-beings, we should have been unable to proceed the next day for the diggings. A whole day would have been lost. Oh, most foul and wretched was the mania which inspired us! Unnatural! no; it was that of fallen, debased human nature; it was too true to that nature. Those miserable men must have died horribly—devoured by wolves or scalped by Indians. The next day we pushed eagerly on; yet we had to sleep high up on the side of a snow-capped mountain; thence we were to descend to the scene of our labours. Bitterly cold it was; yet we dared not move, for frightful precipices yawned around. We reached the first diggings that evening. The miners had just knocked off work, and crowded round us to hear the news, and to see what we had brought. Rough as they looked, by far the greater number, I judged by the tone of their voices, belong to the educated classes. And shall I become like one of these men? I thought. I soon became like one of them, and rougher still. ‘I expected a friend about this time,’ said one, describing him. He was among those who had fallen and been deserted. He made but few other inquiries. He knew that such events were too common to complain. I saw him brush away a tear, as he turned from us. That man was too good for the company he was among. We encamped by ourselves, we knew not whom we must trust. After this our travelling party broke up. My companions from the ship and I were to work together. We fixed on a spot, and erected our rude hut; then we bought a rocker and shovel, pick-axe and spade, with two tin pans, and set to work. I dug out the earth, another carried it, and a third washed it in the rocker. Our success was tolerable; but it was many days before we got enough to pay for the articles we had purchased, and our provisions. In the meantime, what scenes of wretchedness, misery, dissipation, and violence, did I behold! In every direction men were dying of fever and dysentery. At night the gambling booths were filled with those who rapidly got rid of the earnings of many days. I was witness, too, of an encounter between two large parties of diggers. One party had encroached on the ground prepared by the other, and refused to quit it. Bowie-knives, and pick-axes, and hatchets, rifles and pistols, were instantly brought into play. A sanguinary encounter ensued. Numbers fell on both sides; at last one party turned and fled. I visited the scene of the strife soon after. A dozen or more human beings lay on the ground dead, or dying—arms cut off—pierced through and through with knives—skulls fractured with spades and pick-axes, and many shot to death. The dying had been left to die alone without aid or pity, while their companions returned to their gold digging. Often and often I sickened at the sights I beheld, but still I continued at the work. I was compelled to continue at it. I had given up everything for it. I was like a slave chained to it by the leg. Gladly would I have gone back to my steady occupation and quiet life, surrounded by those I respected and loved. I have only partly described the hardships we endured. We had famine, and cold, and rain. Often we were without fuel, our clothing was ragged and insufficient, and sickness in every form came among us. Besides desperate quarrels among the diggers, the Indians came down upon us—fierce, sanguinary warriors, eager for our scalps. Their vengeance had been excited by aggressions made on them by the whites. We could scarcely leave the camp without risking an attack from them. Many diggers became their victims. Such was our life for months. At length my companions and I, by unexpected good fortune, saved a sufficient amount of gold dust to enable us to return to San Francisco. Steady work at home would have enabled me to lay by nearly as much, while my health and spirits would not have been broken as they now are. We kept together to defend each other. Many diggers on their way to the city, after labouring for years, have been robbed and murdered. My companions spent most of their hard won wealth, and returned to the diggings, where, one after the other, they fell victims to disease, or the knives of assassins. I had had enough of the life, and my knowledge of business enabled me to procure a situation in a merchant’s office in this place, where, by employing the sum I had scraped together, and by stript attention to business, I have realised an amount four times as large, in a quarter of the time it took me to collect it at the diggings.”

“What you have said, sir, is very true,” observed another gentleman present. “Things, however, have somewhat mended of late. Still, a gentleman has to lead little better than a dog’s life in those regions. For my part, although I was what is considered very lucky, I soon sickened of it, and considered myself fortunate in being able to get away with my gold in my pocket and a whole skin on my back. Still this is a wonderful country, and will become a great country some day. I have travelled over a good deal of it. Not long ago I travelled up one of the most beautiful valleys in the world. At the bottom was a green grassy sward with a pure bright stream running rapidly through it, over a clear, pebbly bottom. The hills on either side were clothed with trees of various descriptions, rocks here and there jutting out between them of many fantastic forms, while my ears were assailed with the cheerful sound of falling water, and my eyes gladdened by the sight of sparkling cascades flowing into basins, whence arose masses of white foam. Further on arose, appearing at the end of the valley, range beyond range of mountains, the higher capped with snow. Though the sun was hot, the air was pure and cool as it came off the mountains, tempered by the numerous cascades. At length I reached a spot where the valley widened, and there, spread out before me, lay a blue shining lake fringed by lofty trees, with the hills rising gradually behind them, while the water seemed alive with fish, which leaped from its calm depths, and with the water-fowl which skimmed over its surface. You’ll all say that was a lovely spot.”

We all agreed that it must be, and that we should like to take up our abode there.