[Contents.]
[List of Plates.]
[List of Woodcuts.]
[Footnotes]
[Appendix.]
WHERE THE GOLD COMES FROM.
F. MARRYAT DELT
MOUNTAINS AND MOLEHILLS
OR RECOLLECTIONS OF
A BURNT JOURNAL
BY.FRANK.MARRYAT.
AUTHOR OF “BORNEO AND THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO.�
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR.
LONDON:
LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS.
1855.
LONDON:
BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
PREFACE.
Nothing that I can say here will blind the reader to the deficiency of these pages; they are in truth, as their title expresses, the recollections of a “Journal burnt,� and I present here but an outline of what I have seen or heard during three years of my life; and if I am wanting in figures and statistics and anything of weight as regards the country written of, it is certainly because I recalled this Journal unexpectedly, and far from the scenes it once depicted.
I may have remembered too little, but that is preferable to remembering too much.
I have tried to confine myself to what is most pleasant, and it may be that a rambling truthful story is the best, if to make the work elaborate one must have recourse to fiction.
It is right that a man should submit anything he does modestly, yet for all that a preface need not be an apology; for I look on a tale written as a tale told, with this advantage to the reader, that if the tale written please him not, he can close the book and have done with it. I am no button-holder, and would rather, sir, that you would desert me at my second chapter, than that you should wade wearily through this volume, and then, because we do not suit each other, say that I have bored you.
In these days, when new discoveries of Nature’s gifts, and increased facilities of communication with them invite man to roam, any record of travel should possess some interest for the adventurous.
I have proved to myself, what these pages may not show, that a man with health may plant himself in any country in the world, and by the exercise of those reasonable faculties that are denied to few, may there live well and happily.
It is nothing, perhaps, to state this for a fact, but I would have each emigrant hug it to his breast as a warm hope that will uphold him in the hours of adversity and trial that will meet him in the path he pioneers for himself in a new country.
Reader, these pages are so much black and white, and will pass as nearly all such matter does, rapidly to oblivion; but if they bring no smile to you, nor help momentarily to efface a care, I would ask that they should bring no frown, for they are written earnestly, and with a good intention, even though from first to last they stand against me as printed errors, to cause regret in later years.
FRANK MARRYAT.
December 1st, 1854.
Note.—As my sketches were destroyed by fire, I have been unable to illustrate the scenery of California, but in the accompanying drawings I have endeavoured to be faithful to the characteristics of the people.
CONTENTS.
| [CHAPTER I] | |
|---|---|
| PAGE | |
| Chagres River—Curiosity—Isthmus of Panama—Washington Hotel—Ants—ANative of Virginia—Gold Train—Robbery—Panama Bells—AnEmigrant Ship—An Affecting Preacher—San Francisco | [1] |
| [CHAPTER II] | |
| A Great Country—Improvement—Adventurers—Drinking-Saloons—TheOld Judge—Banks—Mine Speculators—Gambling Houses—“Don’tShootâ€�—Climate—High and Dry | [21] |
| [CHAPTER III] | |
| Benicia—Barnes—A Mad Bloodhound—His Death—Grasshoppers—DonRaymond—A Blessed City—Wicked Mules—“Camping Outâ€�—Napa—Fourthof July—Agriculturists—Sonoma—Competition—AnIrascible Bull | [39] |
| [CHAPTER IV] | |
| Spanish Grants—Squatters—Squatter Fights—A Spanish Ranche—GoodQuarters—Fleas—Vanity—Vaccaros—Quilp—EnglishSaddles—Antelope Hunt—Rattle-Snakes—Quilp Waltzes—CalifornianHorses—Saddles—Horse-Breaking—A Tame Horse | [58] |
| [CHAPTER V] | |
| Spanish Priests—Indians—Quilp forgets himself—Habits of NativeCalifornians—Father Bartoleméo—The Lasso—Good Riders—CattleBranding—Raymond provides Mules—Russian River—WeEncamp—Saw-mill—I propose to “Squatâ€� | [78] |
| [CHAPTER VI] | |
| The Little Valley—Three Martyrs—Mountain Life—The Poor Does—Castor-oil—ASick Dog—The Carpentaro—Grey Squirrel—DiggerIndians—Red-wood Tree—American Rifles—Grizzly Bear Hunt—SheldonWounded—Difficulty in Killing the Bear—Habits of theBear—A Thief | [97] |
| [CHAPTER VII] | |
| Deer Hunting—Wild Bulls—Wild Fowl—A Duck Gun—Driving anOx-Team—I Reflect—An Estampede—The Tiger Cat—RainySeason—Indian Fires—Wasps—We are Robbed by the Indians—Ikill a Bear—Crossing a Swollen River | [122] |
| [CHAPTER VIII] | |
| Quilp departs for the South—San Luis—Ramsey—I am left forDead—The Early History of California—Discovery of San Francisco—SpanishMissions—A Digression—Digression, continued—ARainy Season—A Little Crab | [144] |
| [CHAPTER IX] | |
| The Old Crab-Catcher—Mr. Warren—American Friendship—TheAmerican Press—Education in America—Americans Good Colonists—CalifornianCorrespondence | [164] |
| [CHAPTER X] | |
| Long Wharf—Clipper Ships—Chinese Emigrants—The May Fire—AnExciting Scene—Iron Houses—Vallejo—The Coyote—Wild Geese | [180] |
| [CHAPTER XI] | |
| Coyote Hunting—My Dominions are Invaded—Thomas kills a Bear—ATrial of Strength—Rowe’s “Lotâ€�—Choctaw—Elk—A Butchery—RoughLife—Fertility of the Soil | [197] |
| [CHAPTER XII] | |
| Another Fire—My Geological Friend—“Burnt Outâ€�—Sacramento—Levee—Hulks—Rats—VigilanceCommittee—Start for Volcano—Crocket—“RightSide Upâ€� | [216] |
| [CHAPTER XIII] | |
| An Old She-goat—Our Mineralogist—Gold Diggers—Murderer’s Bar—TheTheorist puzzled—Mining Laws—Jumping Claims—TheMiner’s Life—“Let her slideâ€�—Hostile Indians—We are disgusted—Fire-proofHouses | [231] |
| [CHAPTER XIV] | |
| Joe Bellow—Stockton—A Bear Trapper—Bear and Bull Fights—AnUneasy Bear—Californian Inns—Natural Roads—Good Driving—IKill a Flea—Sonora—The Evening commences—French Emigrants—ADrinking Bar—Number Eighty—A Corral and a Moral | [248] |
| [CHAPTER XV] | |
| The Gold Mine—The Innocence of Sonora—Sunday in Sonora—Sellinga Horse—Carrying Weapons—Bob—We leave Vallejo—We are“Bound to goâ€�—The Shadow of a Crow | [269] |
| [CHAPTER XVI] | |
| I explain to the Patient Reader—Pioneers—A Lady’s Boot—Mainspring—MexicanRobbers—Victims of Prejudice—Works onAmerica—Two Pigs—Power of the Human Will | [286] |
| [CHAPTER XVII] | |
| Yield of Gold—Its Duration—Mormon Gulch—The Distribution ofGold—Tunnelling—Damming Rivers—Holden’s Garden—Energyin the Mines—Quartz Mines—Quartz Mining successful—TheAuthor gets out of his Depth | [304] |
| [CHAPTER XVIII] | |
| Transport Machinery to the Mine—The Carpenter Judge, and ConstableRowe—Cut-throat Jack—Greasers—French Miners—JohnChinaman—Chinese Ferocity—The Feast of Lanterns—ChineseDespotism—False Sympathy | [323] |
| [CHAPTER XIX] | |
| The Firemen of San Francisco—“We strive to Saveâ€�—A Barber’sSaloon—Oysters—Places of Amusement—A Pickled Head—Shootingon Sight | [341] |
| [CHAPTER XX] | |
| Rat-Catchers—Drays—Crested Partridge—A Marvellous Story—Sailorsin the Mines—A Verdict—The Quartz has the best of it—Ileave Tuttle-town | [356] |
| [CHAPTER XXI] | |
| Advice to Emigrants—Gold Countries—Self-Doctoring—Advice continued—Iarrive at Stockton | [373] |
| [CHAPTER XXII] | |
| Elections—Executions—Reforms—Exiles—“Know Nothingsâ€�—Testimonials—SpeakingTrumpets—Ocean Steamers—Life-Buoys—Air-Boats—Confidencenecessary—Fitting a Raft—A Suggestion | [387] |
| [CHAPTER XXIII] | |
| “Herculesâ€� fails—Land Crabs—Mr. Bobbins—Rushing the Ship—NewYork | [406] |
| [CHAPTER XXIV] | |
| Yellow Fever—A Wooden Head—Hard Times—A Gale—We Springa Leak—Acapulco—Smuggling—Cholera—Conclusion | [417] |
| APPENDIX | [433] |
ERRATUM.
Page 204, fifteenth line, for “Athletes,� read “Athletæ.� [Corrected by ebook transcriber.]
LIST OF PLATES.
DRAWN ON STONE BY MESSRS. HANHART, FROM DESIGNS BY FRANK MARRYAT.
LIST OF WOODCUTS.
DRAWN ON WOOD BY MR. L. C. MARTIN, FROM DESIGNS BY FRANK MARRYAT.
MOUNTAINS AND MOLEHILLS;
OR,
RECOLLECTIONS OF A BURNT JOURNAL.
CHAPTER I.
CHAGRES RIVER—CURIOSITY—ISTHMUS OF PANAMA—WASHINGTON HOTEL—ANTS—A NATIVE OF VIRGINIA—GOLD TRAIN—ROBBERY—PANAMA BELLS—AN EMIGRANT SHIP—AN AFFECTING PREACHER—SAN FRANCISCO.
April, 1850.
At eight A.M., Chagres was reported in sight, and as we neared the land, it presented an appearance far from inviting.
The American steamer, “Cherokee,� ran into the anchorage with us, and immediately disgorged five hundred American citizens in red and blue shirts.
I landed with as much expedition as possible, and commenced at once to bargain for a canoe to take me up the river. This I at last effected at an exorbitant price, and on the express condition that we should not start until sunset. A few months back the native Indians of this place considered themselves amply repaid with a few dollars for a week’s work, but since the Californian emigration has lined their pockets with American eagles, they have assumed American independence: and now the civilised traveller, instead of kicking the naked aborigine into his canoe, or out of it as his humour prompts, has to bargain with a “padrone,� as he calls himself, dressed in a coloured muslin shirt and a Panama hat, with a large cigar in his still larger mouth; and has not only to pay him his price, but has to wait his leisure and convenience.
The town of Chagres deserves notice, inasmuch as it is the birthplace of a malignant fever, that became excessively popular among the Californian emigrants, many of whom have acknowledged the superiority of this malady by giving up the ghost, a very few hours after landing. Most towns are famous for some particular manufacture, and it is the fashion for visitors to carry away a specimen of the handicraft; so it is with Chagres. It is composed of about fifty huts, each of which raises its head from the midst of its own private malaria, occasioned by the heaps of filth and offal, which putrefying under the rays of a vertical sun, choke up the very doorway.
On the thresholds of the doors, in the huts themselves,—fish, bullock’s heads, hides, and carrion, are strewed all in a state of decomposition; whilst in the rear is the jungle, and a lake of stagnant water, with a delicate bordering of greasy blue mud. As I had with me my man Barnes and three large blood-hounds, I hired a boat of extra size capable of containing us all, together with the baggage, this being preferable to making a swifter passage with two smaller canoes and running the risk of separation. At about three we started, the “Cherokeesâ€� in boats containing from ten to a dozen each. All was noise and excitement,—cries for lost baggage, adieus, cheers, a parting strain on a cornet-à -piston, a round dozen at least of different tongues, each in its owner’s own peculiar fashion murdering Spanish, a few discharges from rifles and revolvers, rendered the scene ludicrous, and had the good effect of sending us on the first step of a toilsome journey in a good humour. So up the river we went, and as Chagres disappeared behind us, we rejoiced in a purer air. There is an absence of variety in the scenery of the Chagres river, as throughout its whole length the banks are lined to the water’s edge with vegetation. But the rich bright green at all times charms the beholder, and the eye does not become wearied with the thick masses of luxuriant foliage, for they are ever blended in grace and harmony, now towering in the air in bold relief against the sky, now drooping in graceful festoons from the bank, kissing their own reflections in the stream beneath.
Every growing thing clings to and embraces its neighbour most lovingly; here is a bunch of tangled parasites that bind a palm tree by a thousand bands to a majestic teak, and having shown their power, as it were, the parasites ascend the topmost branch of the teak, and devote the rest of their existence to embellishing with rich festoons of their bright red flowers, the pair they have thus united.
The teak, which is here a very bald tree, is much improved by the addition of these parasites, which give him quite a juvenile appearance, and form, in fact, a kind of wig, to hide the infirmities of age. Here is a dead and well bleached sycamore tree, half thrown across the river, but still holding to the bank by its sinewy roots; and at its extremity is an ants’ nest, about the size of a beehive, and along the trunk and branches green leaves are seen to move about at a prodigious rate, under which ants are discovered on inspection.
Immediately under the ants’ nest are some glorious water-lilies, and close to these, by way of contrast, floats an alligator who has been dead some time, and hasn’t kept well, and on the top of him sit two black cormorants, which having, evidently, over-eaten themselves, are shot on the spot and die lazily. So we ascend the river; a-head, astern, on every side are canoes; here, surmounting a pyramid of luggage, is a party of western men in red shirts and jack boots, questioning everybody with the curiosity peculiar to their race. Presently it is my turn.—
“Whar bound to, stranger?�
“California.�
“Come along! Whar d’ye head from?�
“England.�
“Come along! Whar did yer get them dogs?�
“No whar,� I had a mind to reply, but at this stage I relapsed into dogged silence, well knowing that there are some lanes which have no turning, and among these is a western man’s curiosity. The padrone of my canoe, who steered the boat, had brought his wife with him, and she sat with us in the stern sheets, laughing, chattering, and smoking a cigar.
I could find no heart to object to this increase of our live freight, and indeed so far benefitted by her presence as to be able to practise Spanish, and before we arrived at the anchorage I had relieved her of the false impressions she laboured under, that my dogs were “tigers,� and that some cherry brandy I produced was poison. At night, having reached a small village on the river, out jumped the lady, who scrambled up the bank followed by the boatmen, and I scrambled after them as fast as I could, to ascertain the meaning of this sudden desertion; but quick as I was, by the time I reached the huts that constituted the “pueblo,� I found my padrone already seated as banker at a well-lighted monte table, surrounded by an anxious crowd of boatmen, natives, and American passengers, his pretty wife looking over his shoulder watching the game.
The short time he took to change his profession was very characteristic of the gambling habits of these Central Americans.
I slept in the canoe, and at daylight the boatmen returned, having made a night of it. The monte banker had been lucky, he informed me, and had left his wife behind, to which I was ungallantly indifferent. Another day on the river, and another night spent at a hut, and on the third morning we arrived at Gorgona, from whence we had to take mules to Panama.
The bargaining for mules at Gorgona was in every respect similar to the canoe transaction at Chagres; and after passing a day in the sun, and accomplishing in the evening what might, but for the vacillation of the natives, have been done at once, we started for Panama in company with the baggage, Barnes walking from choice with the dogs. With our mules in a string we plunged at once into a narrow rocky path in the forest, where palm trees and creepers shut the light out overhead;—splashing through gurgling muddy streams, that concealed loose and treacherous stones—stumbling over fallen trees that lay across our road—burying ourselves to the mules’ girths in filthy swamps, where on either side dead and putrid mules were lying—amidst lightning, thunder, and incessant rain, we went at a foot pace on the road to Panama. The thunder-storm changed the twilight of our covered path to darkness, and one of my mules missing his footing on the red greasy clay, falls down under his heavy load. When he gets up he has to be unpacked amidst the curses of the muleteer, and packed again, and thus losing half an hour in the pelting storm, file after file passes us, until, ready once more to start, we find ourselves the last upon the road. At Gorgona a flaming advertisement had informed us that half way on the road to Panama the “Washington Hotelâ€� would accommodate travellers with “forty beds.â€� Anxious to secure a resting-place for my own party, I left the luggage train under the charge of Barnes, and pressed forward on the bridle road.
At nightfall I reached the “Washington Hotel,â€� a log hut perched on the top of a partially cleared hill; an immense amount of fluttering calico proclaimed that meals could be procured, but a glance at the interior was sufficient to destroy all appetite. Round it, and stretching for yards, there were mules, drivers, and passengers, clustered and clamorous as bees without a hive. To my surprise the crowd consisted for the most part of homeward bound Californians—emigrants from the land of promise, who had two days before arrived at Panama in a steamer. Some were returning rich in gold dust and scales, but the greater part were far poorer than when first they started to realise their golden dreams.
And these latter were as drunken and as reckless a set of villains as one could see anywhere. Stamped with vice and intemperance, without baggage or money, they were fit for robbery and murder to any extent; many of them I doubt not were used to it, and had found it convenient to leave a country where Judge Lynch strings up such fellows rather quicker than they like sometimes. They foretold with a savage joy the miseries and disappointment that awaited all who landed there, forgetting that there travelled on the same road with them those who had in a very short space of time secured to themselves a competency by the exercise of industry, patience, and temperance. The Yankee owner of the Washington was “realising some,â€� judging from the prices he charged, and that every eatable had been consumed long before my arrival. The “forty bedsâ€� respecting which we had met so many advertisements on the road, consisted of frames of wood five feet long, over which were simply stretched pieces of much soiled canvas—they were in three tiers, and altogether occupied about the same space as would two fourposters—they were all occupied.
Wet with the thunderstorm, I took up my station on a dead tree near the door, and as night closed in and the moon rose, awaited the arrival of my man and dogs with impatience. Hours passed, and I felt convinced at last that fatigue had compelled Barnes to pass the night at a rancheria I had seen a few miles back. Rising to stretch my limbs, I became instantly aware of a succession of sharp stings in every part of my body; these became aggravated as I stamped and shook myself. In sitting on the dead tree I had invaded the territory of a nest of ants of enormous size—larger than earwigs; they bit hard, and had sufficiently punished my intrusion before I managed to get rid of them. During the night file upon file of mules arrived from Panama. These were unloaded and turned adrift to seek their supper where they could; and travellers, muleteers, and luggage were spread in every direction round a large fire that had been lit in the early part of the evening. Deserting my inhospitable tree, I found myself comfortable enough among a heap of pack saddles, buried in which I slept till morning. With the first streak of day everything was moving, luggage was replaced on kicking mules; the sallow, wayworn, unwashed tenants of the “Washington,â€� with what baggage they had on their backs, started for Gorgona on foot. The morning oath came out fresh and racy from the lips of these disappointed gentlemen; nor could the bright and glorious sun reflect any beauty from their sunken bloodshot eyes; when they disappeared in the winding road leading to Gorgona, it was quite a comfort to me to reflect that we were not about to honour the same country with our presence. In less than an hour I found myself alone at the half-way house; the crowd had dispersed on either road, but as yet my baggage had not arrived. When it did come up at last we were all very hungry, but as there was nothing left eatable at the “Washington,â€� we started for Panama without breaking our fast.
Through a tortuous path, which had been burrowed through the forest, we stumbled on at the rate of a mile and a half an hour; at times the space between the rocks on either side is too narrow to allow the mules to pass; in these instances all our efforts are directed to the mule that is jammed; heaven knows how we get her clear—several shouts, some kicking, a plunge or two, a crash, and, the mule being free, proceeds on her path, whilst you stop to pick up the lid of your trunk, which has been ground off against the rock, as also the few trifles that tumble out from time to time in consequence. And shortly afterwards we meet more travellers homeward bound, some on foot, with a stout buckthorn stick and bundle, and others on mules, with shouldered rifles. Each one, as I passed, asked me what state I was from, and if I came in the “Cherokeeâ€� steamer. I had been questioned so much after this manner at the “Washingtonâ€� that I began to think that to belong to a state and to arrive in the “Cherokeeâ€� would save me much trouble in answering questions, for my reply in the negative invariably led to the direct query of Where did I come from? So along the road I surrendered myself invariably as a “Cherokeeâ€� passenger and a native of Virginia, and was allowed to pass on in peace. At last the country becomes more open, huts appear occasionally, and the worst part of the journey is well over. Still the human tide flows on to Gorgona, for another California steamer has arrived at Panama; and now we meet some California patients carried in hammocks slung upon men’s shoulders, travelling painfully towards a home that some of them will not live to see. Trains of unladen mules are going down to meet the emigration, some with cargoes of provisions for the Washington Hotel perhaps.
Pass on filth, squalor, and poverty, and make way as you should for wealth, for here, with tinkling bells and gay caparisons, comes a train of mules laden with gold—pure gold from Peru; as each mule bears his massive bars uncovered, glittering beneath the cordage which secures them to the saddle, you can touch the metal as they pass. Twenty of these file by as we draw on one side, and after them, guarding so much wealth, are half a dozen armed natives with rusty muskets slung lazily on their backs; but behind them, on an ambling jennet, is a well “got upâ€� Don, with muslin shirt and polished jack-boots, richly-mounted pistols in his holsters, and massive silver spurs on his heels, smoking his cigarette with as much pomposity as if the gold belonged to him, and he had plenty more at home. This gentleman, however, is in reality a clerk in an English house at Panama, and when he returns to that city, after shipping the gold on board the English steamer, and getting a receipt, he will change this picturesque costume for a plaid shooting-coat and continuations, and be a Don no longer. As the gold train passed, I thought, in contrast to its insecurity, of the villains I had parted from in the morning, all of whom were armed. Then followed a train much larger than the first, and just as little guarded, carrying silver. For years these specie trains have travelled in this unguarded state unmolested, not from the primitive honesty of the natives, for a greater set of villains never existed, but from the simple difficulty of turning a BAR of gold to any account when once it has been taken into the jungle. Since the time of which I am writing many attempts have been made to rob the gold trains, but, when pursuit has been active, the bars have invariably been discovered in the jungle a short distance from the scene of the robbery.
The country became more open as we approached Panama, and when the town appeared in the distance, we had no shelter from the sun, and the dogs, panting and footsore, dragged on very slowly. Here I found a man by the roadside attacked with fever, shivering with ague, and helpless. He was going to Gorgona, but as he had no mule, he wished to return to Panama. I hoisted him on to mine, and we proceeded; he was very ill, wandered in his speech, and shook like a leaf; and before we got into Panama, he died from exhaustion. As I did not know what to do with him, I planted him by the road-side, and on my arrival at the town, I informed the authorities, and I presume they buried him. Weary and sunburnt, we arrived at the gates of the town, outside of which we found a large American encampment, in the midst of which we pitched our tent. Every bed in the town had long before been pre-engaged, and these cribs, after the fashion of the “Washington,� were packed from fifty to a hundred in a room. We slept comfortably that night under one of Edgington’s tents, the baggage inside, and the dogs picquetted round us.
Since Panama has become the half-way resting-place of Californian emigration, the old ruin has assumed quite a lively aspect. Never were modern improvements so suddenly and so effectually applied to a dilapidated relic of former grandeur as here. The streets present a vista of enormous sign-boards, and American flags droop from every house.
The main street is composed almost entirely of hotels, eating-houses, and “hells.� The old ruined houses have been patched up with whitewash and paint, and nothing remains unaltered but the cathedral. This building is in what I believe is called the “early Spanish style,� which in the Colonies is more remarkable for the tenacity with which mud bricks hold together, than for any architectural advantages. The principal features in connection with these ancient churches are the brass bells they contain, many of which are of handsome design; and these bells are forced on the notice of the visitor to Panama, inasmuch as being now all cracked, they emit a sound like that of a concert of tin-pots and saucepans. At the corner of every street is a little turretted tower, from the top of which a small boy commences at sunrise to batter one of these discordant instruments, whilst from the belfries of the cathedral there issues a peal, to which, comparatively speaking, the din of a boiler manufactory is a treat. If those bells fail to bring the people to church, at all events they allow them no peace out of it. The streets are crowded day and night, for there are several thousand emigrants, waiting a passage to California. Most of these people are of the lower class, and are not prepossessing under their present aspect; and many of them, having exhausted their means in the expenses of their detention, are leading a precarious life, which neither improves their manners or their personal appearance. Long gaunt fellows, armed to the teeth, line the streets on either side, or lounge about the drinking bars and gambling saloons; and among these there is quarrelling and stabbing, and probably murder, before the night is out. The more peaceably disposed are encamped outside the town, and avoid these ruffians as they would the plague; but the end of this, to the evil-disposed, is delirium tremens, fever, and a dog’s burial. With a good tent and canteen, an abundant market close at hand, and plenty of books, the time passed pleasantly enough, until I had arranged for my conveyance to California, which I shortly succeeded in doing, in a small English barque.
It is nothing new to say that the Central Americans are an inert race, and that the inhabitants of New Grenada, of Spanish blood, seem to assimilate in habits with the famous military garrison of Port Mahon, the members of which were too lazy to eat;—for these people are too indolent to make money when it can be done with great rapidity and very little trouble, consequently, the advantages of the Californian emigration are entirely reaped by foreigners. Not a permanent improvement has been added to the town, and if this route was abandoned altogether, the city would be little the richer for the millions of dollars that have been left there during the last few years. The sole exception, almost, is that of a native firm, which has amassed much wealth by contracting for mules for transportation. The projected railroad will be undoubtedly carried out, and will give a vast importance to the isthmus: but it is built with American money and for American purposes. The new town of Aspinwall, in Navy Bay, is American; it is in its infancy at present, and likely always to remain rather “thin,â€� for the reason that the marshes that surround it render it unhealthy. I cannot see what the New Grenadians are to gain by all this exercise of energy and capital; some day or other, perhaps, the brass guns on the ramparts of Panama may be remounted, and the breaches in the walls will be repaired, but by the time these events occur, I think the flag that will float from the citadel will not be that of New Grenada.
* * * *
I must confess I felt great delight when we made the mountains at the entrance of San Francisco Bay; I had been cooped up for forty-five days on board a small barque, in company with one hundred and seventy-five passengers, of whom one hundred and sixty were noisy, quarrelsome, discontented, and dirty in the extreme. I had secured, in company with two or three gentlemen, the after-cabin, and so far I was fortunate. We had also bargained for the poop as a promenade, but those fellows would not go off it; so there would some of them sit all day, spitting tobacco juice, and picking their teeth with their knives. Occasionally they became mutinous, and complained of the provisions, or insisted upon having more water to drink; but the captain knew his men, and on these occasions would hoist out of the hold a small cask of sugar, and knocking off the head, place it in the middle of the deck, and immediately the mutinous symptoms would subside, and the jack-knives would cease to pick teeth, and diving into the sugar cask would convey the sweetness thereof to their owners’ mouths!
Quarrels were of daily occurrence; there was a great deal of knife-drawing and threatening, but no bloodshed, and this was probably attributable to the fact that there was no spirit on board.
It requires a dram or two even for these ferocious gentry to conquer their natural repugnance to a contest with cold steel; and I may remark here that on first finding himself amongst a swaggering set of bullies armed to the teeth, the traveller is apt to imagine that he is surrounded by those who acknowledge no law, have no fear of personal danger, and who will resent all interference; but a closer acquaintance dispels this illusion, and the observing voyager soon finds that he can resent a man’s treading on his toes none the less that the aggressor carries a jack-knife and revolver. One Sunday during our voyage we were addressed spiritually by a minister who dissented from every known doctrine, and whose discourses were of that nature that rob sacred subjects of their gravity.
He shed tears on these occasions with remarkable facility; but under ordinary circumstances, I should imagine him not to have been sensitive in this respect, as I overheard him during the voyage threaten to “rip up the ship’s cook’s guts,â€� and he carried a knife with him in every way adapted for the contemplated operation. Under all circumstances I was very glad when the land about San Francisco Bay appeared in sight. The morning was lovely; and it needs, by the way, a little sunshine to give a cheerful look to the rugged cliffs and round gravelly grassless hills that extend on either side of the bay;—in foggy weather their appearance is quite disheartening to the stranger, and causes him to sail up to the anchorage with misgivings in general respecting the country. Quarrels were now forgotten, and each heart beat high with expectation, for now was in sight that for which many had left wives and children, farms and homesteads, in hopes of course of something better in a land so favoured as undoubtedly was this before us. But hope as we will our best, fear and doubt will creep in; and who knows what blanches the cheek of yonder man! Is it the exhilaration consequent on reaching a goal where certain reward awaits him? or is it a lurking fear that all may prove illusion?
It is a more intense feeling, perhaps, than that of the man who sees before him the card which carries on its downward side his ruin or his fortune; for the gambler cannot if he would find any stake against which to risk the happiness of wife and children, the affections of a well-loved home, and the chance of misery and speedy death in an unknown land. Such the emigrant knows to have been the lot of thousands who have gone before him; but he has also heard of rich “pocketsâ€� and “great strikes,â€� of fortunes made in a month—a week—a day: who shall then say which of these emotions blanches his cheek, as we now fly rapidly past the “Golden Gateâ€� rocks that guard the harbour’s mouth?
As we open the bay, we observe dense masses of smoke rolling to leeward; the town and shipping are almost undistinguishable, for we have arrived at the moment of the great June Fire of 1850, and San Francisco is again in ashes!
CHAPTER II.
A GREAT COUNTRY—IMPROVEMENT—ADVENTURERS—DRINKING-SALOONS—THE OLD JUDGE—BANKS—MINE SPECULATORS—GAMBLING HOUSES—“DON’T SHOOTâ€�—CLIMATE—HIGH AND DRY.
June, 1850.
The fire was fast subsiding; and as the embers died away, and the heavy smoke rolled off to leeward, the site of the conflagration was plainly marked out to the spectator like a great black chart. There is nothing particularly impressive in the scene, for although four hundred houses have been destroyed, they were but of wood, or thin sheet iron, and the “devouring element� has made a clean sweep of everything, except a few brick chimneys and iron pots. Everybody seems in good humour, and there is no reason why the stranger, who has lost nothing by the calamity, should allow himself to be plunged into melancholy reflections! Planks and lumber are already being carted in all directions, and so soon as the embers cool, the work of rebuilding will commence.
I found it amusing next day to walk over the ground and observe the effects of the intense heat on the articles which were strewed around. Gun-barrels were twisted and knotted like snakes; there were tons of nails welded together by the heat, standing in the shape of the kegs which had contained them; small lakes of molten glass of all the colours of the rainbow; tools of all descriptions, from which the wood-work had disappeared, and pitch-pots filled with melted lead and glass. Here was an iron house that had collapsed with the heat, and an iron fireproof safe that had burst under the same influence; spoons, knives, forks, and crockery were melted up together in heaps; crucibles even had cracked; preserved meats had been unable to stand this second cooking, and had exploded in every direction. The loss was very great by this fire, as the houses destroyed had been for the most part filled with merchandise; but there was little time wasted in lamentation, the energy of the people showed itself at once in action, and in forty-eight hours after the fire the whole district resounded to the din of busy workmen.
On the “lotâ€� where I had observed the remains of gun-barrels and nails, stands its late proprietor, Mr. Jones, who is giving directions to a master carpenter, or “boss,â€� for the rebuilding of a new store, the materials for which are already on the spot. The carpenter promises to get everything “fixed right off,â€� and have the store ready in two days. At this juncture passes Mr. Smith, also in company with a cargo of building materials; he was the owner of the iron house; he says to Jones interrogatively,—
“Burnt out?�
Jones.—“Yes, and burst up.â€�
Smith.—“Flat?â€�
Jones.—“Flat as a d—d pancake!â€�
Smith.—“It’s a great country.â€�
Jones.—“It’s nothing shorter.â€�
And in a couple of days both Smith and Jones are on their legs again, and with a little help from their friends live to grow rich perhaps, and build brick buildings that withstand the flames.
This fire was attributed to incendiarism, but when the general carelessness that existed is considered, it is quite as probable that it resulted from accident. It is much to be regretted that these fires did not sweep off the gambling houses; but these buildings were now constructed of brick, and were tolerably well secured against all risk. When the burnt portion of the city was again covered with buildings, I had an opportunity of judging of the enormous strides the place had made since two years back, when it was, by all accounts, a settlement of tents. Three fires had checked its growth in this short space; but a daring confidence had laughed as it were at these obstacles, and any one who knew human nature might see, that so long as that spirit of energy animated every breast, the city would increase in size and wealth, in spite even of conflagrations so calamitous. For though many individually are ruined by the flames, and are forced to retire from the field, yet in a small community where all are armed with strong determination, the vacant ranks are soon filled up again, and shoulder to shoulder all march on in unity of purpose, and gain the victory at last, though at ever so great a sacrifice. Twelve months back there was little else but canvass tents here, and a small, shifting, restless, gambling, population: who was it then, when all looked uncertain in the future, that sent away so many thousand miles for steam excavators, and tramways, and railway trucks? who were those, again, who sent from this hamlet of shanties for all the material for large foundries of iron and brass, for blocks of granite, bricks and mortar, for pile-drivers and steam-boats? I don’t know,—but these things all arrived; and now, in eighteen hundred and fifty, the sand-hills tumble down as if by magic, and are carried to the water’s edge on a railroad where the pile-drivers are at work, and confine them to the new position assigned them on a water lot. The clang of foundries is heard on all sides, as machinery is manufactured for the mines,—brick buildings are springing up in the principal thoroughfares, steamers crowd the rivers, and thousands of men are blasting out huge masses of rock to make space for the rapid strides of this ambitious young city. The better portion of the population of San Francisco in eighteen hundred and fifty, may be said to have consisted of adventurers; these were of all nations, the Americans being in the proportion of about one-third. Many people object to the term adventurer, as one that has been generally associated with a class who travel with scanty purses and easy consciences. But Johnson defines an adventurer as “one who hazards a chance;â€� and when we consider that the population here have to a man almost made sacrifices elsewhere, in hopes of the speedier reward held out by the vicinity of these vast gold-fields, the term is not misapplied. Neither is it one that should ever carry opprobrium; while fresh countries remain to be explored, and facilities of communication are daily increasing, I have no objection to call myself an adventurer, and wish that I had been one of those fortunate ones who conferred a vast benefit upon mankind (and secured moderate advantages for themselves) by the discovery of the gold-fields of California and Australia. The most successful merchants of San Francisco were needy men, who by chance were on the spot when first the gold was discovered. The colossal fortunes that a few of these have reaped, sprung only from the chances that were open to all. Sam Brannan is probably the wealthiest of these speculators, and he commenced, they say, by levying a tax on the profits of a party of Mormons whom he piloted to the diggings. When the Mormons declined to pay the tax any longer, he called them a parcel of fools for having paid it so long, and then speculated in building-lots and real estate in San Francisco and other cities. The rapid rise in the value of this property elevated Sam to the top round of the ladder of fortune, where he will probably hold on as long as he can.
The stranger in San Francisco at this time is at once impressed with the feverish state of excitement that pervades the whole population; there is no attention paid to dress, and everyone is hurried and incoherent in manner. Clubs, reading-rooms, and the society of women are unknown; and from the harassing duties of the day’s business, there is nothing to turn to for recreation but the drinking-saloons and gambling-houses, and here nightly all the population meet. Where the commerce engaged in fluctuates with every hour, and profit and loss are not matters of calculation, but chance—where all have hung their fortunes on a die, and few are of that class who bring strong principles to bear upon conduct that society does not condemn—the gambling-tables are well supported, and the merchant and his clerk, and perhaps his cook, jostle in the crowd together, and stake their ounces at the same table.
Drinking is carried on to an incredible extent here; not that there is much drunkenness, but a vast quantity of liquor is daily consumed.
From the time the habitual drinker in San Francisco takes his morning gin-cocktail to stimulate an appetite for breakfast, he supplies himself at intervals throughout the day with an indefinite number of racy little spirituous compounds that have the effect of keeping him always more or less primed. And where saloons line the streets, and you cannot meet a friend, or make a new acquaintance, or strike a bargain, without an invitation to drink, which amounts to a command; and when the days are hot, and you see men issuing from the saloons licking their lips after their iced mint juleps; and where Brown, who has a party with him, meets you as he enters the saloon, and says, “Join us!â€� and where it is the fashion to accept such invitations, and rude to refuse them;—what can a thirsty man do? The better description of drinking-bars are fitted up with great taste, and at enormous expense. Order and quiet are preserved within them during the day; they are generally supplied with periodicals and newspapers, and business assignations are made and held in them at all hours. Everybody in the place is generous and lavish of money; and perhaps one reason for so many drinks being consumed is in the fact that there is ever some liberal soul who is not content until he has ranged some twenty of his acquaintances at the bar, and when each one is supplied with a “drink,â€� he says, “My respects gentlemen!â€� and the twenty heads being simultaneously thrown back, down go “straight brandies,â€� “Queen-Charlottes,â€� “stone-fences,â€� “Champagne-cocktails,â€� and “sulky sangarees,â€� whilst the liberal entertainer discharges the score, and each one hurries off to his business. There is no one in such a hurry as a Californian, but he has always time to take a drink. There is generally a sprinkling of idlers hanging about these saloons, waiting for any chance that may turn up to their benefit, and particularly that of being included in the general invitation of “drinks for the crowd,â€� which is from time to time extended by some elated gentleman during the day. These hangers-on are called “loafers.â€� There is a story told of an old judge in the southern part of the country, who was an habitual frequenter of the bar-room, and who with his rich mellow voice would exclaim, “Come, let’s all take a drink!â€� Gladly the loafers would surround the bar, and each would call for his favourite beverage; but when all was finished, the judge would observe, “And now let’s all pay for it!â€� which the loafers would sorrowfully do, and then retire wiser men.
* * * *
Perhaps in no other community so limited could one find so many well-informed and clever men—men of all nations, who have added the advantages of travelling to natural abilities and a liberal education. Most of these are young, and are among the most reckless, perhaps, just now; but by-and-by, when this fever of dissipation has given way to better impulses, these men will gladly abjure a life which has been entailed more upon them by circumstance than choice, and will be the first to help to elevate society to a standard adapted to their real qualities—and tastes.
The banks of San Francisco are naturally important, as being the depositories of the wealth that thousands are hourly accumulating on the rich “placer� fields. These buildings are of brick, and have fire-proof cellars; and although at the time they were erected the outlay was enormous, both for material and labour, it was a mere trifle in comparison with the profits of their owners. The banks line one side of Montgomery Street, the principal thoroughfare of the city; and as the space on all sides has been entirely cleared for some distance by the fire, this row of buildings stands alone just now and solitary, like the speculative “Terrace� with “extensive marine view� that fronts an unpopular watering-place in England. At the corner of a street is Burgoyne’s Bank; you enter and find it very crowded and full of tobacco-smoke; instead of the chinking of money, you hear a succession of thumps on the counter, as the large leathern bags of gold-dust come down on it. Some of the clerks are weighing dust, some are extracting the black sand with a magnet, and others are packing it in bags and boxes. The depositors are, generally speaking, miners who have come down from the diggings, fellows with long beards and jack-boots, and of an unwashed appearance for the most part. However, many of these are not by any means what they seem; they have just arrived, perhaps, from a toilsome dusty journey, and deposit their gold as a first precaution; and before the evening they will have been metamorphosed into very respectable-looking members of society, and will remain so until they return again to the diggings. Large blocks of quartz lie about the room, in all of which are rich veins of gold. These have been sent down from the mountains to be assayed; and the rich yield that these solitary specimens afforded led some time afterwards to a great deal of very ruinous speculation, for it had been represented that these specimens were average samples of great veins, and it was only when money had been expended in large sums that it was discovered that these rich morsels were merely accidental deposits of gold, and by no means indicated the value of the veins. A few rich lumps were brought to England, and, by a little judicious handling and a few public dinners, were turned to good account; and nothing but the bungling stupidity of some of those who were sent here to pull the wires prevented the consummation of some of the greatest swindles that ever were imposed upon the English public. I feel sore upon this point, for the dishonesty thus practised produced an ill feeling against the country which was undeserved, and the stigma of fraud and dishonesty was unjustly cast upon the whole population.
There are no public lamps in the town at this time, so that the greater part of it is admirably adapted for that portion of the population who gain their livelihood by robbery, and murder in those cases where people object to being robbed. But Commercial Street, which is composed entirely of saloons, is a blaze of light, and resounds with music from one end to the other. No expense is spared to attract custom, the bar-keepers are “artistsâ€� in their profession; rich soft velvet sofas and rocking-chairs invite the lounger; but popular feeling runs strongest in favour of the saloon that contains a pretty woman to attend the bar. Women are rarities here; and the population flock in crowds and receive drinks from the fair hands of the female dispenser, whilst the fortunate proprietor of the saloon realises a fortune in a week—and only has that time to do it in, for at the end of that period the charmer is married! A French ship arrived during my stay, and brought as passengers a large number of very respectable girls, most of whom were tolerably well looking; they were soon caught up by the saloon proprietors as waiting-women at salaries of about 50l. each per month, and after this influx the public became gradually inured to female attendance, and looked upon it as a matter of no moment.
Near the centre of the town is a square, which, in common with many other things in the country, retains its Spanish appellation, and is called the “Plaza;â€� two sides of this are occupied by brick buildings, devoted solely to gambling. We have the “Verandah,â€� “Eldorado,â€� “Parker House,â€� “Empire,â€� “Rendez-vous,â€� and “Bella Union,â€� in one row. Most of these establishments belong to companies, for the amount of capital required is very large. One or two of the houses are under French superintendence; companies having been formed in Paris, who openly avowed their object in the prospectus they issued. On entering one of these saloons the eye is dazzled almost by the brilliancy of chandeliers and mirrors. The roof, rich with gilt-work, is supported by pillars of glass; and the walls are hung with French paintings of great merit, but of which female nudity forms alone the subject. The crowd of Mexicans, Miners, Niggers, and Irish bricklayers, through which with difficulty you force a way, look dirtier (although there is no need of this) from contrast with the brilliant decorations. Green tables are scattered over the room, at each of which sit two “monteâ€� dealers surrounded by a betting crowd. The centres of the tables are covered with gold ounces and rich specimens from the diggings, and these heaps accumulate very rapidly in the course of the evening, for “monte,â€� as played by these dexterous dealers, leaves little chance for the staker to win. The thin Spanish cards alone are used, and although the dealer is intently watched by a hundred eyes, whose owners, in revenge for having lost, would gladly detect a cheat, and fall upon him and tear him to pieces, yet are these eyes no match for his dexterous fingers, and the savage scrutiny with which he is assailed as his partner rakes in the stakes produces no emotion on his pale unimpassioned face. The duty of a “monteâ€� dealer is one of great difficulty; although surrounded by a clamorous crowd, and the clang of music, his head is occupied by intricate calculations, his eyes are watchfully (though apparently carelessly) scanning the faces that surround his table, yet they appear to be rivetted to his cards; he has, in the presence of vigilant observers, to execute feats, the detection of which would cost him his life;—nightly almost he draws his revolver in self-defence;—and through all this he must never change a muscle of his face, and must be ready at all times to exercise a determined courage in resenting the mere suspicion of dishonesty on his part, if such is expressed incautiously by those about him.
There is no limit to the introductions one is subjected to in a Californian crowd;—if the “monteâ€� dealer rises from his chair, you will probably be introduced to him, and I had the honour of shaking hands with a murderer quite fresh from his work, who had been acquitted a day or two previously by bribing the judge, jury, and the witnesses against him. I should have declined the honour had I learnt his profession with his name, but custom insists on your shaking hands on being introduced to a fellow-mortal; and to refuse to do so is tacitly to deny one of the great principles of the model republic, which holds that “one man is as good as another;â€� and, as I heard a democratic Irishman observe, “a d—d sight better!â€�
Amidst all the din and turmoil of the crowd, and the noisy music that issues from every corner, two or three reports of a pistol will occasionally startle the stranger, particularly if they should happen to be in his immediate vicinity, and a bullet should (as is not uncommon) whistle past his head and crack the mirror on the other side of him. There is a general row for a few moments, spectators secure themselves behind pillars and under the bar; there is a general exclamation of “don’t shoot,â€� which means of course “don’t shoot till we get out of the way;â€� but after the first discharges the excitement settles down, and the suspended games are resumed. A wounded man is carried out, but whether it is a “monteâ€� dealer who has shot a player, or one gentleman who has drawn on another gentleman, in the heat of altercation, one does not learn that night, but it will appear in the morning paper; if the former it will be headed “Murderous affray,â€� if the latter, “Unfortunate difficulty.â€� There are different names for the same thing, even in a democratic colony! The climate of California is very healthy;—there is a tendency in it to intermittent fever and ague in some parts of the mountains; but in the mines, sickness has generally resulted from imprudent exposure, and the drinking of the worst possible description of ardent spirits. On the sea coast and at San Francisco, the weather is very changeable during the summer months. When the sun rises and clears away the fog that hangs over the Bay, the air is as pure and transparent as that of Naples; by noon the glass is at 90°, and then the sea breeze sets in, and would be welcome, but that it does not fan one gently like other sea breezes, but bursts on you with the force of a hurricane, blows off a bit of the roof of your house, and sends the fine dust in whirling clouds along the street, in such a way that the people would profit by lying down flat on their stomachs, as they do in a regular Simoom! As the sun goes down the “doctorâ€� subsides, after having done a great deal of good in
HIGH AND DRY.
airing the town, which as yet is unprovided with sewers. Then there creeps in steadily a heavy, fat fog, which takes up its quarters in the Bay every night, and disappears as before mentioned when the sun rises—under whose influence it does’nt melt like other fogs, but goes out to sea, and watches the town gloomily, until it is time to come in again.
These varieties of temperature during some months are methodically regular, but are not productive of sickness of any kind. The front of the city is extending rapidly into the sea, as water-lots are filled up with the sand-hills which the steam excavators remove. This has left many of the old ships, that a year ago were beached as storehouses, in a curious position; for the filled-up space that surrounds them has been built on for some distance, and new streets run between them and the sea, so that a stranger puzzles himself for some time to ascertain how the “Apolloâ€� and “Nianticâ€� became perched in the middle of a street, for although he has heard of ships being thrown up “high and dry,â€� he has probably sufficient nautical experience to observe that the degree of “heightâ€� and “drynessâ€� enjoyed by the “Apolloâ€� and “Nianticâ€� resulted from some other cause than the “fury of the gale.â€� Leaving San Francisco for the present to return to it again by-and-by and watch its growth and improvement, I got all ready for a start for Benicia, a little town on the Bay, from whence I intended to travel leisurely to Russian River. I had chosen this district as it abounded in game; and was in quite an opposite direction to the diggings—a visit to which I postponed until the ensuing summer, my object for the present being to encamp myself in some snug place in the mountains, and there live upon my gun, in all the enjoyment of a free life and the pleasures of the chase.
CHAPTER III.
BENICIA—BARNES—A MAD BLOODHOUND—HIS DEATH—GRASSHOPPERS—DON RAYMOND—A BLESSED CITY—WICKED MULES—“CAMPING OUTâ€�—NAPA—FOURTH OF JULY—AGRICULTURISTS—SONOMA—COMPETITION—AN IRASCIBLE BULL.
July, 1850.
Great labour and capital have been expended on the wharves of San Francisco; there is little space left between these, and ships ride at their sides, and discharge their cargoes with as much rapidity and comfort as if they were in dock. The central wharf is nearly a mile in length, and from the end of this the river steamboats take their departure every day at four o’clock. At these times the wharf is always densely crowded, and it has always seemed strange to me that this every-day occurrence attracts a crowd without fail, although directly the boats are off, every man runs back to the city as if he had forgotten something. Perhaps they come down on the chance of an explosion, in which they are occasionally gratified; whether or no, there must be some great attraction, for these curious people have to walk a mile to get there, and run a mile to get back! The “Senatorâ€� was our boat, and with one leg on board of her and the other buried in this observing crowd, I had to work briskly to get my provender on board—sacks of potatoes and flour, dogs, rifles, shovels, and pickaxes, were handed in with astonishing celerity, considering that I was not born a porter, and as the ship’s bell ceased tolling we cast off from the wharf and threading the shipping at full speed, were soon steaming up the Bay. The “Senatorâ€� is a fine boat, but no description of her is requisite, as much finer have been described by travellers who have sailed up the Mississippi River. She came round the Horn, and being the first boat to arrive in the Bay, she realised most incredible sums of money for her owners.
In two hours we arrived at Benicia, and the steamer ran alongside of an old hulk connected by a gang-way with the shore. Through the unusual degree of Yankee nautical smartness shown on this occasion, I lost some bags of potatoes, for the boat had scarcely touched the hulk, than we were driven out of it carrying all we could, and the word was given to “go a-head� again, the gang-board was hauled in, our potatoes were still on board, there was no time for expostulation, and away steamed the “Senator,� whilst we gazed dreamily at her receding hull, wrapt in admiration at the general smartness that evidently surrounded us. Benicia is a city in embryo, there is ample room for building, for in every direction extend undulating hills, covered with wild oats, but unobstructed by timber, of which none can be found within many miles. But the natural advantages of this spot have not been embraced by the public, for one reason, that the opposite town of Martinez is more fortunately planted among groves of trees, and for another, that no one requires a town in this particular part of the world. So Benicia is a failure just now; and instead of raising an imposing front, in evidence of man’s progress, it hides its diminished little head, among the few huts that stand in commemoration of its failure. I pitched my tent at a short distance from the beach, and as I afterwards discovered on reference to the “plan of Benicia,� on the exact spot that had been selected as the site of the “Public Botanical Gardens� of that flourishing city. Our party consisted of three men and three dogs. Besides Barnes, I had with me Mr. Alexander Thomas, the son of an old friend of my father, who had come out to join the staff of a colossal mercantile house, but the house had unfortunately exploded, staff and all, before his arrival in the country.
Barnes had been a desperate poacher, but for years past had distinguished himself equally as a keeper on my father’s estate. He was a good-natured, willing fellow, possessed of enormous physical strength, and could throw a stone with such force and precision, that he had been equally avoided by the keepers when he was a poacher, and by the poachers when he deserted their ranks, which he did as many others would, the moment the chance was offered him of making his bread honestly. My dogs consisted of two blood-hounds of the breed of Mr. Hammond of Norfolk—Prince and Birkham—the latter was of great beauty, but of very uncertain temper. A large half-bred Scotch slot-hound, called Cromer, completed the list—this latter had an unfailing nose and great intelligence, and was a perfect retriever in or out of water. An introductory note to an American gentleman who resided in one of the wooden houses that straggled over the hills, ensured me much civility, and enabled me to procure the mules I required for carrying the tent and baggage. During the interval that elapsed we had time to try the range of the rifles at a target, and get our “hands inâ€� ready for the mountains. A distressing incident occurred very shortly after arriving at Benicia. We had been practising at a target, and were returning to our camp with our rifles unloaded—the heat was intense—the dogs were with us, and I was suddenly struck by the conduct of Birkham the bloodhound. For some time he hung back in the rear as if afraid of us, and as I advanced to caress him he retreated. There being evidently something wrong, I conjectured that he was about to have an epileptic fit, with one of which he had been attacked at San Francisco, but suddenly he lifted up his massive head in the air, and delivered that deep prolonged howl that only a bloodhound has at command, and which is so distressing to hear; he then started at full speed away from us towards the hills, howling and leaping in the air as if in pursuit of something, and I had no doubt then that he was mad. Barnes and Thomas now loaded their rifles to be prepared for his return, I had expended my bullets in target firing. We had lost sight of him in the long wild oats which here grow to a great height, and scarcely expected him back, at least for some time; I was coupling Prince and Cromer together as a precaution, when suddenly Barnes exclaimed “Here he is, sir,â€� and I had just time to seize my rifle and swing it round, bringing the butt down on his head, as he passed within a foot of me.
I never witnessed any sight so dreadful as this dog when he turned now and deliberately attacked us, his whole appearance was changed, and the saliva frothed in his mouth. He might have done much mischief, now that he was in the humour for it, had he made a rapid dash at us; but as he stopped short to give a howl, Barnes shot him in the shoulder, and Thomas’s ball entered his head. It required two more shots to finish him, and painful as it was to have to kill the poor beast, even in self-defence, we could not but congratulate ourselves on having experienced a fortunate escape. Birkham was a dog of enormous power, and one grip of his jaw on a man’s throat would probably be quite sufficient to cause death; he had shown symptoms of uncertain temper immediately upon arriving in a warm latitude, and had twice bitten me in the arm during the passage out. Barnes was a famous man for savage dogs, being both severe yet temperate, but he always had his “doubts,� as he said, respecting Birkham, whose great crime consisted in showing his teeth to his master, a misdemeanour that required, and always received punishment. This consisted of one blow with a short dog-whip, and only one, but that was remembered, particularly by Birkham, who would lie down and place his great head on the ground, wrinkle his forehead, and sulk all day, refusing his dinner and taking no notice of anything that passed around him. Such a dog is never safe, and had these qualities been developed during the time he was in my possession in England, I never should have brought him away from that country.
Immense quantities of grasshoppers are to be found in the vicinity of Benicia at this season; as you walk through the wild oats and disturb them, they hop up to an immense height, in every direction, and like other insects they aim at your eyes, which they hit with unerring certainty and great force, and as they are as hard as little pebbles, they get the best of it altogether. The dogs are much puzzled with them, and as they get knocked about the head, they give short snaps in the air with their eyes shut.
I had great difficulty in procuring the mules I required for my journey, and these I could only hire, as a report of the discovery of a “Gold Lake� somewhere in the mining districts had taken deep root, and all the Benicia mules had been called into requisition. A fine dashing-looking Spaniard rode up to my tent one day in company with the gentleman who had interested himself to get me mules;[1] he was introduced as Don Raymond Carrillo, a native of California, and owner of a ranche, or farm, at Santa Rosa Valley, about forty miles in the interior.
Many of the native Californians whose ancestors emigrated from Mexico, have good Spanish blood in their veins, they are a robust and well-favoured race, and probably in this respect have much improved the original breed, which is all blood and bone. Don Raymond was a striking-looking fellow, well built and muscular, with regular features, half concealed by his long black hair and beard. The loose Spanish dress, the heavy iron spurs, the lasso hanging from the saddle, and the gaunt but fiery colt on which he was mounted, were all for work and little for show; probably the whole turn-out, including the horse, was not worth twenty dollars; but he was more picturesque in his mountain costume, than the best Andalusian that ever got himself up in gold lace and silver buttons for “bolero� or “bull-fight.� Don Raymond not only offered to send mules to convey ourselves and baggage to Santa Rosa, but most hospitably invited us to remain at his “ranche� until we could with his assistance purchase the animals we required. Whilst we were at Benicia the fourth of July, the anniversary of American Independence, came round; had Benicia been the city it was intended to be, what an opportunity would there not have been for the celebration of this day. Looking at the plan now before me, I can imagine the Botanical Gardens thronged with holiday people, whilst the mayor and corporation having reviewed the troops in front of the City Hall, are now inspecting the Infirmary for the Blind, which (in the plan) occupies a position to the extreme right; fireworks echo in the “plaza,� whilst the theatre opens its doors to an eager crowd, and the town pump is surrounded by little boys: but unfortunately Benicia is not far enough advanced to enable us to realise this scene. “The gardens� produce as yet but wild oats; the theatre is one unchanging scene of parched-up desolation; the town pump is not, and of the “plaza� no one knows the limits, for some of the oldest inhabitants, in happy ignorance of the fate of those who “remove their neighbour’s landmarks,� have pulled up the surveyor’s pegs, and basely used them for firewood; but they say that Benicia will do better by-and-by. The plan is named after the wife of General Vallejo, and signifies “Blessed,� and rather appropriately, as under present circumstances the proprietors are incorporated among those who are spoken of as being blessed if they expect nothing. Shortly afterwards, there arrived from Don Raymond eight mules, in charge of a young Californian “Vaccaro�[2] or cattle-driver; the mules were accompanied by an old white mare with a bell hung on to her neck. It is usual to accustom the mules to follow a leader of this kind, and without the old lady leads the way they become very intractable.
Don Raymond had stated frankly that he had no pack mules that had not been turned out for a time with the wild horses, and those he had sent us, though fine strong beasts, were undoubtedly very little tamer than fresh-caught zebras. The first mule having been brought forward with some difficulty, a cloth was tied round his eyes, and he remained perfectly still whilst the loading was performed with great dexterity and expedition by the “vaccaro� and one or two assistants. When all were packed, the blinds were taken from the mules’ eyes, and without any hesitation, and perfectly regardless of the white mare, who walked quietly towards home, away they scampered through the long grass, kicking and screaming; here goes a tin kettle, there a ham, now a bag of flour falls out and bursts, and the place is strewed with the relics of our commissariat stores. Two mules, followed by the “vaccaro,� have disappeared behind the hills, where the sun is disappearing also. Number three is motionless, for, not having succeeded in kicking the tent off his back, he has lain down with it in a small pond; whilst number four, having divested himself of every thing with which he was entrusted, including the pack-saddle, is making his supper off wild oats, under the full impression that he has performed his day’s work meritoriously and deserves repose. We employed the daylight that remained in collecting our traps; and as our “vaccaro� soon returned with the missing mules and assistance, after a few more refractory attempts we got off shortly after dark, and took the trail that led towards a village called Napa.
When about twelve miles from Benicia we halted to encamp for the night at a clump of trees, the first we had seen since landing. We had “carte blanche� to shoot a calf whenever our necessities required, from among the droves of tame cattle with which the plains on our route were well stocked. Our first object on halting was to avail ourselves of this permission, and it being too dark to kill with the rifle, our “vaccaro� brought in a calf with his lasso, as soon as the mules had been unpacked and turned off to feed. We had no occasion for the tent, the night air was so pure and mild, so we sat half buried in the tall soft grass, a bed of down from which nothing could have roused us but the grateful smell of the calf’s ribs as they roasted by our bright camp fire. As long as it lasted, our sleep was delicious, but it was interrupted most unseasonably, about the middle of the night, by the yells of a pack of “coyotes,� (a kind of jackal,) that had collected round the remains of the calf.
These beasts had the audacity to approach us within a few yards. We killed some, wounded many, and the dogs drove them away in every direction, still they always congregated somewhere and sent forth their hideous yell in chorus, first from one side of us, then from another, and not until dawn appeared would these brutes allow us to rest; then they disappeared, and I congratulated myself on being able to resume my slumbers; but almost immediately after the “coyotes� had gone, the sun appeared, and there was an end of the luxuries of an oat-straw bed al-fresco, for that night at least. The mules submitted more readily to be loaded this morning, and followed quietly in the steps of the white mare.
On approaching Napa, which is distant from Benicia about twenty miles, we entered a very beautiful valley about three miles in breadth, studded with oak trees, and bounded on either side by mountains that rose abruptly from the plain, and whose summits were crested with heavy masses of the red-wood tree and white pine. As yet there was no sign of cultivation or enclosure, nor did we see a dwelling-house until the village of Napa appeared in sight; but the whole of this rich and fertile valley was shortly to be made productive, and it was to supply the wants of the many settlers, who were now on the eve of improving this wild tract, that the little bunch of houses called “Napa City� had sprung into existence.
We had to cross a small stream in a ferry-boat to enter Napa, and we found the little place in a very lively state. Music was playing, the stars and stripes were waving from each house, whilst the street was thronged with people. The outside settlers had come in to celebrate their fourth of July, it was now the fifth, and they were in the thick of it, and there was to be a “ballâ€� in the evening. At twelve o’clock they prepared to fire a salute from three old honeycombed cannons that had probably been fished up out of the river; whether or no, a serious accident immediately occurred—the first gun fired exploded like a shell, blowing off the arm of one man and destroying the sight of another, besides peppering the spectators more or less seriously. This damped temporarily the pleasure of the afternoon, but the public dinner, which took place under an enormous booth, seemed to restore cheerfulness. The settlers were nearly all “Western people,â€� small farmers from Missouri, and other Western states, who emigrated with a wife and half-a-dozen children to California in search of good land; on this they squat until the land-claims are decided, and with their thrifty habits make money, not only more surely and comfortably, but faster than the miners, whose wants they supply.
The soil here is admirably adapted for the growth of wheat, barley, and potatoes; and although the price of labour is so great that these immigratory agriculturists, having little or no capital, can only till a patch of land at first, yet so rare a luxury as yet is a vegetable, that large profits attend their earliest efforts, and the settler of these valleys, if prudent, is a rising man from the moment his spade first raises the virgin sod.
During the day a Mexican tight-rope dancer performed to the crowd: I considered him rather a bungler at his work, but my opinion was not shared by the spectators, one of whom, an old farmer, “kinder, reckoned it was supernatural,� in which he was supported by an old back-woodsman, who said “It warn’t nothing else.� I left these good folks in the height of enjoyment, and should not perhaps have said so much about them, but that having all very lately come from the United States across the plains, they had brought with them, and as yet retained, the simple manners and wants of a rural population. These people form the most valuable portion of the emigration, for they come as permanent settlers, and they continue permanent improvers. Under their hands forests are cleared, and valleys enclosed, grain is raised and mills are erected, the country no longer relies on foreign ventures for its chief wants, and monopolising flour companies cease to fatten at the expense of a hard-working population.
I did not wait for the “ball,� as I wished to reach Sonoma that night, the luggage having gone on. On our first arrival at the Creek, the ferryman, who was an American, had refused all toll on the strength of the “Anniversary.� We could not but admire such a striking instance of real charity, as it enabled many of the surrounding farmers to cross over with their numerous families, which at the rate of one dollar for each person they could not have afforded to do. But there was nothing said about going back for nothing, and our Yankee friend having succeeded in filling the village gratis, had now the satisfaction of emptying it at a dollar a-head. So there they were like the nephew of “Gil Perez,� caught like a rat in a trap. The scenery still improves in beauty as we approach Sonoma, the valleys are here sprinkled with oak trees, and it seems ever as if we were about to enter a forest which we never reach, for in the distance the oaks, though really far apart, appear to grow in dark and heavy masses. Sonoma was one of the points selected by the early Spanish priests for a mission; the remains of the mud church and other buildings used by the priests still exist. It has been chosen as a military station, and about a couple of dozen United States dragoons are quartered here.
General Vallejo, a native Californian, who is owner of a large portion of the surrounding valley, resides at Sonoma; he took part in some skirmishing which occurred, previous to the cession of California to the United States, between the natives and a handful of adventurers, who hoisted a flag with a Grizzly Bear on it, and took the field under that standard. The General was also on one occasion taken prisoner, and perhaps it was during his term of incarceration that he designed a tall square building, which he afterwards erected here, of mud bricks, and which is now the principal feature of the place; as the General informs his friends that this was intended for a fortress, they take his word for it, though it has neither guns or embrasures. Overlooked by the fortress is a quadrangle of mud huts, these are now converted into stores intended to supply the farmers who are fast settling on the surrounding plains.
But there are too many stores in Sonoma; there are so many people in California who can only live by keeping small retail shops, that directly a good opening for making money in this way appears, there is a regular rush of small speculators in soap and candles, who all arrive at the desired spot about the same time, each one undoubtedly congratulating himself that he alone has been struck with the bright idea. A man who came to the country in 1848, told me that he managed with great toil and at great expense to get a large cask of whiskey to some rich diggings on the banks of the Yuba, where he commenced retailing it at immense profits; but on the second day his customers fell off, and he found that another Yankee had also rolled up a cask and was underselling him higher up the river. So he moved higher up again by a circuitous route, until again supplanted; and these two continued “cutting each other out,� and living a life of uncertainty until they formed a junction, with the intention of jointly reaping the profits that attend a monopoly of the article in demand. But almost as soon as the new concern was started, up went a canvass house by the side of them, and out went a board on which was written, “Liquor Store.� So with every opening where the chances of large profits are held out, where there are so many calculating speculative people, competition steps in and monopoly is destroyed. This is partly the reason why the San Francisco markets are so uneven and fluctuating.
Brown is a clever fellow, and says to himself, Coals will be very scarce next fall, I’ll write for coals; every one else, being as clever as Brown, writes for coals from the same motives, and the spring sees coals tumbling in on all sides: or Brown says, everybody will be writing for coals for the spring, I shall advise my correspondents not to ship; every one else thinks as Brown thinks, no one writes for coals, and next spring coals can’t be had at any price.
We pitched our tents outside the fortress, and the only event that occurred worthy of notice was in the fact of an enormous bull making a clean bolt at it, about the middle of the night. The moon was up, and I presume its reflection on the white canvass annoyed him; he annoyed us excessively, for he not only tore down the tent, but we narrowly escaped being trodden upon. As he stood in the bright moonlight pawing the ground at a short distance, meditating another charge at us, I shot him in the head, and he fell, never again to rouse honest gentlemen from their sleep in the dead of night, or wantonly to destroy private property for the gratification of a senseless animosity.
CHAPTER IV.
SPANISH GRANTS—SQUATTERS—SQUATTER FIGHTS—A SPANISH RANCHE—GOOD QUARTERS—FLEAS—VANITY—VACCAROS—QUILP—ENGLISH SADDLES—ANTELOPE HUNT—RATTLE-SNAKES—QUILP WALTZES—CALIFORNIAN HORSES—SADDLES—HORSE-BREAKING—A TAME HORSE.
August, 1850.
Leaving Sonoma at daylight, we passed through the Sonoma Valley, which in many places, but a few hundred yards in width and studded with groups of oaks and flowering evergreens, has all the appearance of a private park bounded by mountains—the herds of deer, of which now and then we catch a glimpse, strengthening this resemblance. After following the trail for fifteen miles, we ascended a rise from which we had a view of Santa Rosa Valley. It was a continuation of that we had traversed, and was divided from it only by a small stream, which marked the boundary of either. From our elevation, the twenty miles of well timbered land, of which Don Raymond was owner, lay stretched before us: large herds of cattle were grazing on the plain, and near the mountains which bounded the ranche, “mañadasâ€� of wild horses could be perceived, with here and there a drove of elk or antelopes.
Previous to the occupation of this country by the Americans, its fertile plains had been granted away by the Mexican government, to such as chose to settle here and stock the land. The terms on which these grants were to be held, easy as they were, were for the most part evaded, and after a new settler had portioned out for himself so many square leagues of a fat valley, and had sent the record of his property to head quarters, he built himself a house, bought a few head of cattle and horses, which were turned off to breed, and he became from that time a “ranchero.� Cattle increased and multiplied, and at last were killed for their hides, which were sent down occasionally to San Francisco, and there placed on board ship.
By the treaty formed between the United States and Mexico previous to the occupation of California, the original Spanish grants of land were guaranteed to the native settlers in all cases where the claim could be properly established. A commission to enquire into these land claims was appointed by the United States government, and its labours still continue. The Americans therefore on their arrival in the country had the mortification to discover that nearly every foot of arable land was private property, and that there remained nothing but barren hills and swamps to settle on and improve, under the pre-emption laws of the United States. They therefore squatted where they pleased on the Spanish ranches, under the plea that the land commissioners might decide the grant on which they were to be illegal; but in reality because each man wanted a piece of land and was determined to have it, the Spanish owners being powerless to dispossess them of the part they chose to select. The consequence is, that even now in “eighteen hundred and fifty-four,� when most of the land-claims have been confirmed by the commissioners, the Spanish owner of a ranche may cast his eye over the property that was but the other day a waving tract of wild grass, and behold, it is parcelled out and enclosed, and cultivated from end to end, and from squatters’ huts curls the smoke on every side. Armed with the law, the Spanish owner says “Vamos usted,� (be off); armed with his rifle the squatter says something much ruder, but to the purpose, and remains. Already have there been serious squatter fights; the papers daily record “Squatter difficulties,� in which men fight, and shed each other’s blood savagely, over a patch of soil, which in many instances belongs to neither of them. So that one of the wisest and most beneficent laws of the United States, is here productive of evil to society.
The squatters in the vicinity of Sacramento city organised themselves into a banditti, and fought “en masseâ€� in defence of their stolen property; but they had made the great mistake of squatting on land that belonged to Americans; these latter sallied from the city with the mayor at their head, and the squatters were defeated and retired with loss, leaving some dead on the field—not however without riddling the mayor, who behaved with great courage, and who must have been much damaged, as the cost of repairing him, when sent in to government by his medical attendant, amounted to about two thousand pounds sterling. But as there are reasonable men among all classes, so among the squatters are to be found many who are willing to purchase their claims, conditionally on the owner’s grant being eventually found to be valid; still taken altogether the subject will be one of endless strife, if not bloodshed.
Hundreds have settled down quietly on land from which the present owners are unwilling or unable to dislodge them. These men will raise around them permanent improvements, and will look to the few acres of land they have enclosed for a livelihood for themselves and families; a year or two hence, perhaps, the land they have appropriated will change hands, and the new purchaser will ask his belligerent friends down, as I have witnessed more than once, to stay at his house and help him to “turn off the squatters.� Down go the friends and take their fire-arms, as coolly as if they were accepting an invitation to a week’s partridge shooting. Occasionally when the proprietor and his friends, armed to the teeth, present themselves at the door of a squatter’s log-hut, they find the owner surrounded by his friends, prepared to resist intrusion. Sometimes the rival parties exchange shots, but I have always found that in these cases, the owner of the property has walked quietly back again, and the squatter has remained.
* * * *
We dismounted at the door of a long low “adobe�[3] house, where we were met and hospitably greeted by Don Raymond. Having much refreshed ourselves by bathing in the rivulet which ran past the house, we were rejoiced to find that our host had prepared a dinner, for of this we were in need; and whilst we eat, a couple of Indian girls tickled our ears and noses with long green boughs, with the intention of keeping off the flies. We cheerfully acknowledged the merit not only of the Mexican cookery, but of the native wine of the south, which our host brought out for the occasion. We were then introduced to his wife and two sisters; these latter were young, with handsome sunburnt faces. My knowledge of Spanish was very limited, but I always prefaced my remarks by a statement of this fact, thus I relieved myself from the necessity of paying those unmeaning compliments which, particularly when delivered in bad Spanish, must be highly amusing to Mexican ladies. As there was an absence of ceremony, and an evident wish on the part of the family to set us at our ease, before night we were on excellent terms, and whilst one of the “vaccaros� played the guitar we waltzed. Don Raymond produced more wine of the south and “cigarittas� in abundance; and when the ladies retired and Don Raymond showed me to my quarters, I determined on not hurrying myself respecting the purchase of mules so long as the hours could be made to pass so agreeably; as for Thomas, into whose head the wine of the south had mounted, it was with the greatest difficulty he could be prevented from embracing Don Raymond in the warmth of his satisfaction. Our host then left us, and we were immediately attacked by the fleas with a vigour that was perfectly astonishing.
In the course of my experience I have been tortured by sand-flies in the Eastern Archipelago, and have made acquaintance with every kind of mosquito, from Malta to Acapulco, including of course the famous “tiger� breed, against which there is no resource but flight. I remember that, when sick at Hong Kong, I was crammed into the cabin of an old store-ship so full of cockroaches, and these so ravenous, that they kept my toe-nails quite close every night, and would even try the flavour of the top of my head, and, when they found that to be all bone, they eat my hair and whiskers, the last circumstance being very annoying, from the fact that whiskers were scarce with me in those days; but I would have preferred any of these annoyances to the attack of those Santa Rosa fleas. On lighting a candle we found the place alive with them; unlike, both in appearance and manner, the modest flea of ordinary life, that seeks concealment as soon as by accident it is unearthed, these insects, reared in the rough school of a wild bullock’s hide, boldly faced as they attacked us. We discovered the next day that the room, the floor and walls of which were of earth, had contained hides, and had been cleared out for the purpose of our accommodation.
But, as a general rule, the Californian houses are alive with fleas, they thrive in the cracks of the mudbrick walls and in the hides with which these places are always strewed. No pains are taken to eject them, and Don Raymond remarked, on our mentioning the fact, that we should get used to them; he and his family never gave the little “malditos� a thought.
After an early breakfast of “tortillas� and fresh milk we commenced at once to look up our shooting gear. Close to us, on one side, was a marsh full of wild fowl, and, stretching for miles round, was the wooded plain, covered with grass, in some places as tall as ourselves. This plain, our host assured us, abounded with deer, elk, and antelope. For a reason, which afterwards appeared, Don Raymond was very anxious that Thomas and I should mount two of his horses, and, in company with some of his Spanish friends, ride over the ranche; we were to take our rifles and shoot all that came in our way. I should of course have preferred to have been allowed to go out on foot and seek my venison in a more sportsman-like manner, than in the company of a dozen clattering, jingling “Caballeros;� but I could not do otherwise than accept the invitation, particularly as it suggested itself to me that Don Raymond’s main object in mounting us was that we should at once appreciate the beauty and extent of the Santa Rosa Ranche.
So that even among these most primitive of agriculturists vanity of possession stands uppermost in all its vulgarity; what has this man, I thought, to show me but a tract of land, rich certainly in nature’s gifts, but in which his only pride consists that he owns it? I could have seen it much better by myself when walking over it, but to please his egotism I must admire it his way and sacrifice my own pleasure; but how I hugged myself when I considered that here at least were no fat pigs, no model styes, with which to bore one; no oatcake-fed bullocks to be measured with a cambric pocket-handkerchief and praised, whilst you held your nose; not even a heap of “compo-manure� to sit and gloat over. At the worst it was but a pleasant gallop over the wild oats, in a pure air, and through a lovely country.
In front of the house was a court-yard of considerable extent, and part of this was sheltered by a porch. Here, when the “vaccaros� have nothing to call them to the field, they pass the day, looking like retainers of a rude court. A dozen wild, vicious little horses, with rough wooden saddles on their backs, stand ever ready for work; whilst lounging about, the “vaccaros� smoke, play the guitar, or twist up a new “riatta�[4] of hide or horse-hair. When the sun gets warm they go to sleep in the shade, whilst the little
horses, who remain in the sunshine, do the same apparently, for they shut their eyes and never stir. Presently a “vaccaro,â€� judging the time by the sun, gets up and yawns, and staggering lazily towards his horse, gathers up his “riattaâ€� and twists it round the animals neck; the others, awakened, rise and do the same, all yawning with their eyes half open, looking as lazy a set as ever were seen, as indeed they are when on foot. Huppa!—Anda!—away they all go in a cloud of dust, splashing through the river, waving their lassos round their heads with a wild shout, and disappearing from the sight almost as soon as mounted. The “vaccaroâ€� wants at all times to ride furiously, and the little horses’ eyes are opened wide enough before they receive the second dig of their rider’s iron spurs.
We found great bustle and preparation going on in the court-yard when we rose; it was full of horses and “vaccaros,� and some neighbouring ranche owners having arrived, their horses, which were handsome and of large size, were standing near the house, champing their bits. The saddles and bridles of these were ornamented with silver, and the stirrup-leathers were covered with bear skins in such a way as to form a very secure armour for the legs against the attacks of wild cattle.
Breakfast over, the Spanish guests were introduced; they were all fine dashing looking fellows, with the exception of one, a short stout man; from the first moment of our meeting war was tacitly declared between us and this gentleman; we found that he was a suitor for the hand of the eldest sister, who, by the way, owned a part of the ranche, and I suppose he imagined it was our intention to contest this prize with him; for he commenced at once to show his disapprobation of our presence; we called this fellow Quilp. Each of the party had his horse waiting in readiness—ours had yet to be selected from a drove of about a hundred, which were enclosed in a “corral,â€� or circular enclosure, that was close by the house. The wild horses of the country generally are small, of these I shall speak by and bye; but Don Raymond, who took the lead among the fast Californians, prided himself on the possession of a “mañadaâ€� of horses of a superior breed; these he had pointed out to me the day before, and among them I had observed, all rough as they were, some fine beasts. A few steps brought us to the “corral;â€� Quilp in the foreground, muttering something which we took for granted was insidious advice to Raymond to pick us out “wild ones.â€�
“You English ride?â€� asked Raymond. I replied modestly, that we rode a little sometimes, as I knew that the slightest approach to assurance on my part would be the signal for a wild stallion being selected for my accommodation. However, Raymond picked us out two high-spirited, but broken-in beasts, that seemed about as well behaved as any that were there. When they were brought into the court, and blinded as usual, Thomas and I produced, and girthed up, our English saddles, on which we had ridden up from Benicia; we were immediately surrounded by the whole crowd of guests and “vaccaros;â€� bah! those were not saddles—there was no horn to which to fasten the lasso—the stirrups did not protect the foot and leg when the horse fell down and rolled over you! I did not know Spanish enough to answer them, and perhaps it was as well, for I should most certainly have addressed myself to Quilp most strongly on the subject, as the instant he saw my “pigskinâ€� he made a point of turning up what nose Providence had endowed him with, and that was not much. But I observed with pleasure that their observations were directed principally to the fact of the flat smooth surface of our saddles as compared with their “demi-peaks,â€� from which the body receives support on every side. Thomas had a fine seat on a horse, and both of us had had some practice in rough riding both at home and abroad, or otherwise I should have remonstrated with Raymond respecting the wish so evidently expressed by his friends of amusing themselves at our expense.
I had but one rifle I could carry on horseback, so slinging that on my back, away we went, and as the horses warmed under their exercise, and we shook ourselves into our seats, I observed with pleasure that Thomas was both sitting and handling his horse well, and took the fallen timber that came in our way in capital style. However, to shorten this part of the story, the Spaniards soon became less bumptious on the subject, and we flew over the plain at great speed.
Before long we saw a herd of antelope grazing at some distance, and the Spaniards pulled up and prepared their lassos. The antelope at this time of the year are very fat, and comparatively speaking do not run, or bound rather, fast through the long grass, so that if headed there is a chance for an expert horseman to catch one with the “riatta,� and it was with the intention of showing me if possible this feat, that our host had made up the party. I had no sooner unslung my rifle than I was satisfied that there was no possibility of shooting from the saddle, for my beast, who would have been quiet as a lamb had I whirled a lasso round his head, became unmanageable at the presence of the rifle. We were to ride round and head the antelope whilst the “vaccaros� drove them towards us. As we galloped through the long grass towards the position chosen, I told Thomas to keep close to me and prepare to hold my horse, for I felt it would be excessively annoying if such a fellow as Quilp for instance should catch an antelope with his bit of rope, and I be debarred from even a shot at the herd.
When we were well ahead of them, the drove started at the sight of the “vaccaros,� and a few strides of our horses brought some of us right in the line they were taking; my foot had scarcely left the stirrup when they flew past with rapid bounds. Don Raymond spurred at the headmost bucks, but his lasso fell short; three does brought up the rear; at one of these I fired and wounded it, but it plunged into the thicket with the rest. Seeing that nothing had fallen to the report of the rifle, the Spaniards now went slowly homewards; whilst I searched the thicket and found my doe dying within a few hundred yards. Raymond returned for us, and leaving the venison in charge of the “vaccaros,� we rode home. On the way I succeeded in explaining to Raymond that we preferred hunting the deer on foot not only for the advantages of exercise, but of the cover which was afforded by the long grass.
Raymond now, for the first time, pointed out to me that the rattlesnakes were very abundant in the valley, and this we afterwards discovered to be true. It destroyed in a great measure the pleasure of our sport, for we lost many a good shot from looking on the ground—which men are apt to do occasionally when once satisfied of the existence of a venomous reptile, the bite of which is by all accounts mortal. The rattlesnake is seldom seen, it glides away through the long grass on the approach of man or beast, and for this reason cattle are seldom bitten by it. But it allows you to approach very closely before it moves, and the rattle of its tail even in retreat is very unpleasant to hear. Higher up the country we afterwards killed one or two young ones; but we soon exercised such precautions as insured our not being brought too frequently in contact with them. I have heard of many remedies for rattlesnake bites, and of many fatal cases; but had any of my party been unfortunate enough to have been bitten very seriously it was agreed between us that the unbitten ones should immediately apply a red-hot iron to the part affected, and then give the victim a powerful dose of castor oil, and leave him to repose; but I doubt if the complete cautery would have been carried out!
Before we arrived at the house Quilp had got scent of the antelope, and had departed.
From this time we found ample employment for our guns, and soon succeeded in bringing in some black-tailed deer. Hares were in abundance close to the house, whilst in the marshes wild fowl were plentiful, so that we kept our host’s larder well stored, and Quilp (who returned and made himself quite at home) became quite sleek from good living.
As we were always tired with our day’s work, and had moreover our guns to clean, we left Quilp to do all the waltzing; and when he had enjoyed this pastime until he panted like an over-driven prize ox, he would sit down on a stool in the porch, and throwing one leg over the other, would twang the old guitar and accompany it with a Spanish hymn to the Virgin, which, being delivered in a dismal falsetto, bore much resemblance to the noise of a wheelbarrow that requires greasing, and was about as musical.
The small native horses of the country are remarkable for sureness of foot and great powers of endurance; half-starved, unshod, and overweighted, these ponies will perform long journies at great speed, with great courage; but, alas! for them, in a country where horseflesh is so cheap and riders are so merciless, the noble qualities of this animal meet no reward; and the long day’s journey bravely accomplished, the “vaccaro� takes his saddle off the panting beast, and turns him off to die or not, according to his constitution.
The Californian saddle is very rough in appearance, being formed simply of wood and hide, but great care is bestowed both on the material and form, and for the duties required of them they are admirable. The “vaccaro� is in his saddle all day, and it forms his pillow by night; when once he gets a good “saddle-tree� nothing can induce him to part with it, and you may see a dozen of these “vaccaros� standing round a rusty-looking saddle, listening to its owner’s praises as he points out its beauties. These saddles are also well adapted for long journies, affording, as they do, so much support to the body.
When the tame horses attached to a ranche begin to be “used up� with hard work, and the stud requires replenishing, the “vaccaros� start for the mountains, and return shortly driving before them a band of wild colts, which, with some difficulty, they force into the corral, where they are enclosed. The “vaccaros� now enter to select the likely colts, the mad herd fly round the corral, but the unerring lasso arrests the career of the selected victim, who is dragged, with his fore feet firmly planted in the ground, half-strangled, to the court yard, where a strong leather blind is at once placed over his eyes; at this he hangs his head, and remains quite still, his fore feet still planted in the ground ready to resist any forward movement. Then the “vaccaro,� always keeping his eye on the horse’s heels and mouth, places a folded blanket on his back, and on that the saddle, divested of all incumbrances, this he girths up with all his power; the bridle is on in an instant, so simple is its construction; how free from ornament is the bit, how plain and unpretending is that rusty iron prong, which, at the least pressure on the rein, will enter the roof of the horse’s mouth. Now the “vaccaro� is seated, and nothing remains but to remove the blind; this is done by an assisting “vaccaro,� who gets bit on the shoulder for his trouble, and the work begins. Single jumps, buck jumps, stiff-legged jumps; double kicks; amalgamated jumps and kicks, aided by a twist of the back bone; plunges and rears; these constitute his first efforts to dislodge the “vaccaro,� who meets each movement with a dig of his long iron spurs: then the horse stands still and tries to shake his burden off, finally he gives a few mad plunges in the air, and then falls down on his side.
It is now that the formation of the Californian saddle and the large wooden stirrups protect the rider: a small bar lashed crossways to the peak of the saddle prevents the horse from rolling over, and when he rises his tormentor rises with him unhurt; finding all efforts useless, he bounds into the plain, to return in a few hours sobbing, panting, but mastered. The blind is again put on, the saddle and bridle removed, several buckets of cold water are thrown over his reeking sides, and he is turned into the “corral,� an astonished horse, to await the morrow, when his lesson will proceed, and receive less opposition from him! In three days he is considered broken, and is called a “manzo,� or tame horse, but admirably as docility has been inculcated in this short period, he is not yet by any means the sort of horse that would suit those elderly gentlemen who advertise in the “Times� for a “quiet cob,� nor indeed is he fit for any one but a Californian “vaccaro.�
CHAPTER V.
SPANISH PRIESTS—INDIANS—QUILP FORGETS HIMSELF—HABITS OF NATIVE CALIFORNIANS—FATHER BARTOLEMÉO—THE LASSO—GOOD RIDERS—CATTLE BRANDING—RAYMOND PROVIDES MULES—RUSSIAN RIVER—WE ENCAMP—SAW-MILL—I PROPOSE TO “SQUAT.â€�
August, 1850.
The capabilities of Santa Rosa Valley had not been overlooked by the early missionaries, and the house now occupied by Don Raymond had been built by them. The object of these priests had been, first, to encourage the wild Indians of the country to settle near their mission-houses, and then gradually to domesticate them and employ them in bringing the land under cultivation; but in the northern portion of the country, their efforts seem on all sides to have been unattended with success, for with the exception of the existence here and there of a few bands of “Manzos,� or tame Indians, nothing remains in evidence of the exertions of these early colonists. In the southern portion of the country, where the climate is better adapted for the growth of fruit-trees and vines, signs of improvement everywhere mark the presence of the land-loving Jesuit. The missions there consist of several houses, part of the surrounding country is producing grain; a breed of small sheep has been introduced; and the Indians having been made available for agricultural purposes, large quantities of vines are reared, from which an excellent wine, to which I have already alluded, is produced. For this more genial clime the northern valleys had been abandoned, but a band of domesticated Indians remained attached, like cats, to the mud building, where first they made acquaintance with the white man. The Indians of the country are called Diggers, from the fact of their subsisting on roots and acorns. Filthy and degraded in their habits, not one ennobling trait is to be found in them; whether domesticated, or in a primitive state, they are ever the most debased of tribes, morally and physically. It might have been from this that the process of civilising these beings was abandoned by the priests, for so thankless a task might damp the energy even of a Jesuit.
The tribe in question occupied a few huts not far from the house, and Raymond had, with a spirit a little in advance of his fellow colonists, employed these Indians in enclosing a few acres of land, which were now sown with barley and peas. Every week a bullock was killed for the Indians, the whole of which, including entrails, they devoured on the instant. Of an evening they made a great disturbance, by indulging in what they intended for a dance; this consisted in crowding together in uncouth attitudes, and stamping on the ground to the accompaniment of primitive whistles, of which each man had one in his mouth, whilst the women howled and shrieked in chorus.
Business required Raymond’s presence at Sacramento for a few days, and from that time Quilp’s influence worked strongly to our disadvantage. We were no longer summoned to the early breakfast of fresh milk and “tortillas,� and those meals that were prepared for us consisted for the most part of stewed beans. We reminded the ladies, whom now we seldom met, that we had deposited game in the kitchen but the day before; “Possibly,� they replied, “the gatos (cats) had destroyed it.� The idea of palming this dreadful story on an Englishman was rather too good. We were now therefore often compelled to shift for ourselves, and although it was no great trouble to light a fire whilst out shooting, and roast a hare or wild duck, we felt our position to be very awkward, having promised Raymond not to depart before his return, an event we awaited with impatience. Not far from the house lived a “squatter� of the name of Elliot, he had been settled for some time in the country and had planted a small garden of vegetables; we found that he was always supplied with venison, and on this discovery we soon made an arrangement with him that relieved the people of the ranche from all trouble respecting our meals. When we returned at night, Quilp would be found as usual twanging his guitar, but on one occasion, emboldened by our silent contempt, which he mistook perhaps for fear, he ventured on a liberty which, but for my interference, might have been very summarily punished. Returned one evening from shooting, my dog, Cromer, went up inquisitively to Quilp as he sat in the porch, and this gentleman, perhaps to please the group of vaccaros who shared his dislike of us, undertook to kick the animal with his heavy spurred heel. Barnes’ powerful grip was on his shoulder in an instant, and so long as it remained there, Quilp was held to his chair as if in a vice. I ordered Barnes at once to desist, and once released, Quilp drew a knife from his boot and swore, “Madre de Dios!� that all the English that ever lived should die under the application of that piece of cutlery; but as his eye wandered down the barrel of the rifle that Barnes now brought in close proximity with his head, he evidently deferred his sanguinary intentions for the time being, and retired pale and trembling into the house. It was some time before the excitement died away, and I was not sorry when I had reduced Barnes to a calm state of mind, for he was by no means the right sort of person to “muddle,� to use his own expression.
Whilst out on the ensuing day we came across a beautiful little animal of the size of a racoon, striped black and white. This was a species of skunk, that emitted an odour so overpowering, that the animal’s instinct did not even induce it to attempt to run from the dogs, who flew at first to worry it, but surrendered at once to the poisonous smell, and refused to approach. We left the skunk in full possession of the field, and returned to find Quilp and a newly arrived party of Spaniards, enjoying themselves in-doors, drinking the “wine of the southâ€� and cracking jokes, probably at our expense. I had paid little attention to the fact of Barnes having lagged behind us as we came home, and I was in the porch awaiting his return, when he suddenly appeared on the threshold of the door from which the merriment proceeded, and with the laconic remark of “D—n you, take that,â€� before I was aware of his purpose he chucked the skunk into the middle of the party of Spaniards, where it alighted amidst the screams of the ladies and the oaths of the men. In a few moments the room was cleared, and the men soon afterwards, amidst many vows of vengeance, mounted their horses and rode swearing away. Quilp went with them, and we never saw him again.
Raymond returned, next day, and having explained to him as much as was necessary to account for the estranged terms on which he found us with his family, and apologised for my servant’s inexcusable rudeness, I insisted upon being at once permitted to terminate my visit; and the same day I erected my tent on the plain.
Raymond, who entertained much good feeling towards us, felt very sore to find on inquiry that we had been inhospitably treated during his absence; but unable to persuade me to remain longer as his guest, he requested that we would wait and witness his annual “cattle-branding,� then about to take place, and he would then procure us mules to pursue our journey.
No life is so thoroughly lazy as that of a Californian family, who, totally uneducated, can neither read or write; and whilst there are no domestic duties on which to employ the women, the men leave to their vaccaros the little superintendence the cattle on a ranche require. Nor, as far as the women are concerned, does the care of their children seem by any means to engross their leisure; for the rising off-shoots are allowed, like the young cattle, to grow unassisted and unembellished to maturity, though undoubtedly the naked little urchins benefit physically by the freedom their young limbs enjoy. Raymond had but one child, of about four years of age, and this little fellow, with no covering but a scanty shirt, strutted about the yard all day, practising with a miniature lasso at the cocks and hens.
The Californian idea of religion is rather sketchy and undefined. It is well known that the Spanish Roman Catholic missionaries were never prone to waste much time in expounding the tenets of their faith; the great principle was, in all instances, to convert, and to increase the “army of the Faithful.â€� I remember that in the islands of Batan in the China Sea, the process was excessively simple. So soon as a nigger was caught—and in a small island he had not much chance of escape from a Jesuit—a tin cross was hung round his neck, and he was turned off again, like one of Raymond’s branded steers, one being as wise as the other as to whom the new allegiance was owing. The Californians have, however, learnt enough to know that every one not of their faith, is a heretic, and the Carrillo family asked us point-blank if we belonged to that unhappy class, and received gravely our modest reply, that we believed we had that misfortune. The Spaniards and their priests, are not only inveterate card-players, but practised cheats. One of these sleight-of-hand Padres, I was told, displayed great fervour in attempting to convert a heretic who lived near him, and who happened to be an English master of a merchant vessel, who had settled in the country; as the story goes, the old Salt defended himself from the theological attacks of Father Bartoleméo on the score that he never could understand the principal articles of his new creed. “How so?â€� exclaims the Padre, “with faith, and the help of the Virgin, all obstacles will melt like snow before the sun.â€� “Then,â€� observed the captain, as he produced a pack of Spanish monté cards, “how do you turn up the Jack when the seven and Jack are laid out and an open bet is made on the seven?â€� “Toe-nails of St. Ignatius! what has this to do with the tenets of the true faith?â€� roars the father. “This,â€� says the other, in reply, “is the first tenet of your faith, teach me this and I embrace the rest.â€� It is easy to imagine the wrath and indignation of the holy father when he thus heard his religion insulted, and, sympathising with him in his warmth, we are the less prepared to hear that he not only controlled his feelings, but sat down and inducted the master into the art of turning up the Jack, too happy at so small a sacrifice to gain ANOTHER convert to his faith.
Where so much ignorance exists, a proportionate amount of superstition will of course be found, and in horse-racing, which is their passion, the Californians are regulated by a code of rules affecting the colours of horses and the hours at which they must start to ensure victory. Sailors used to dislike a Friday, but there is no day of the week that is not unlucky for something in California.
At Santa Cruz (in the south) some time ago, the “Virgin� was intreated for rain, and the hat being sent round, a sufficient amount was collected to back the request in the substantial manner that the priests point out as being acceptable. An old heretical American settler, who had a farm on the high land above the valley, declined either to contribute or to pray; but, from his elevated position, his crops soon throve under genial showers, whilst the valley below as yet received no relief; this unequal distribution of favour on the part of the saint astonished the occupants of the valley: and we will presume that fresh appeals brought down retribution on the heretic, for, in a very short time, his crops were set on fire, and he saved his house from destruction with some difficulty.
The dress of the vaccaro consists of a broad-brimmed hat, always secured under the chin, a loose shirt and jacket, and buckskin breeches; round the leg is wound a square piece of leather, this is secured at the knee, and is a protection against falls or the attacks of cattle; in one of these leggings he carries his knife; his spurs, serapa, and lasso, complete his costume; under his saddle he has a blanket, and thus lightly equipped is independent of everything. The lasso is generally constructed of twisted hide, and is made with great care. In the hands of a good vaccaro the noose is thrown carelessly, but with unerring precision; it is a formidable weapon of attack, and in the guerilla warfare, which preceded the occupation of the country, it was not only used successfully, but horrible cruelties were practised by the Spaniards on those whom by chance they cut off in this manner.
The Californians are perfect riders—graceful, active, and courageous; they ride with a straight leg when in the saddle, and this latter, when properly made, gives great support to the body and legs; how otherwise could they endure, for hours together, the shock of bringing up all standing wild cattle running at full speed?
When I first seated myself in a Californian saddle belonging to Raymond, and found the lower part of my body deeply imbedded in the soft skins which covered it, I was led into an error which I dare say has been shared by many others; I thought at the time that riders accustomed to so much assistance were less dependent on the muscles of the body; and I have no doubt in those valuable papers, since lost, I recorded a hasty opinion that their crack riders would make a poor show on an English saddle over a steeple-chase country; but this is only another proof of the danger of trusting to first impressions. The Californian will ride a bare-backed horse at speed and bring him on his haunches with a seat undisturbed: but what more particularly arrests the critical eye of an Englishman is their beautiful handling of the horse’s mouth; with a bit, the slightest pressure on which arrests the horse, they ride, in all the excitement of the cattle chase, with a lightness of hand that is truly admirable. In the hunting counties, where by chance some black-coated stranger takes and keeps a forward position throughout the day, it is a matter of duty after dinner for all legitimate red-coats to depreciate the arrogant unknown; but when no fault can be found either with his seat or his style of riding, there is always some one who clinches the matter by remarking sagely—“The fellow rides well enough, but he has got no ‘hands!’â€� Now the Californians have both seats and “hands,â€� and may defy the criticism even of the ill-natured.
Once a year it was customary to drive up all the cattle on a ranche to brand the young steers. On these occasions the vaccaros are in their glory, crack riders volunteer their assistance, and ranche owners congregate from far and wide to point out and take away such of their own beasts as have strayed and become mixed with those on the ranche. For a week previously, the vaccaros scour the mountains and plains, and collect the wild herds, and these are at once enclosed in the “corrals.�
The proprietor of the ranche keeps open house, whilst the vaccaros adorn themselves in all the finery they can muster, which is not much, and they are specially mounted for the occasion. Fires are lighted near the corral, and in these the branding-irons are kept heated. The work is commenced leisurely, a few vaccaros enter the corral, the gate of which is formed of a bar of wood, easily withdrawn, to allow egress to the cattle. The first lasso is thrown over the horns of a steer, and as the bar is withdrawn he rushes out with the vaccaro at his side; on the instant a second lasso catches the hind leg and he falls on his side, as if shot. The two lassos are then kept tight by the horses to which they are attached, who are admirably trained to throw their whole weight on the rope; the brand is then applied. A shake of the lasso disengages it, and the steer after a wild look at the assembled company, rushes smarting with pain to the mountains, where he is soon joined by his fellows in a similar unfortunate predicament.
The corral becomes gradually thinned, and more vaccaros enter the lists, and as the large beasts are kept until the last, and become maddened by being driven round in the heat, and noise, and dust, every opportunity is afforded for a display of good riding. Savage-looking cows show fight from every quarter, and make fierce charges at the horsemen, who experience much more danger, and have more work to do, than the armed “torredores� of a bull-fight. The dust and excitement increase rapidly now, and the cattle thump the ground with their ribs on every side, as their legs fly from under them. A groan, a hiss, and a smell of roast meat, as the hot brand touches them, and away they go, tail on end.
But occasionally the scene is diversified by some cantankerous young bull, who having received the impression of his master’s initials, makes a rush at the crowd that surround the corral, with the intention of revenging an insult never intended. This wayward conduct subjects him to increased punishment, for he is now brought down on his side again, until at last he thinks better of it, and makes the best of his way to some lonely spot on the plain, where he revenges himself by praiseworthy but unsuccessful attempts to gore the largest oak-tree he can find.
The work is now carried on with great rapidity, the vaccaros have renewed their horses many times, and under the influence of brandy, which is freely served to them, they begin to get as mad as the cattle. All ends at dusk, and the evening is devoted to a “fandango;� but the men are all so drunk and tired, that this amusement always terminates early, and generally seriously; for among so many boasting and quarrelsome riders, knives are soon produced, and the dispute, which always has reference to the capacity of some horse, is terminated for the time being by the letting of a little blood.
It is the nature of man to boast of his horse in all countries, and how unfortunate it is that these Spaniards are not sufficiently civilised to settle their disputes with a bet; then the only blood drawn would be from the horse’s flanks, when he was called upon by his master to perform the feat in question, and the whole would be decided in a gentlemanly manner!
Shortly after the “cattle-branding,â€� Raymond provided me with four handsome mules and a horse. I have already mentioned that the management of wild mules was a matter of great difficulty; to us it was an impossibility, and we found it requisite to hire the services of a vaccaro. We started for Russian River after bidding adieu to Raymond, who had behaved to us throughout with great hospitality and kindness. Our road led through another plain, oak-timbered like the valleys, and that there may be at least one good remark in my book, I shall borrow a description from Sterne, who says, “There is nothing more pleasing to a traveller or more terrible to travel-writers, than a large rich plain, especially if it is without great rivers or bridges, and presents to the eye but one unvaried picture of plenty; for, after they have once told you that it is delicious or delightful (as the case happens), that the soil was grateful, and that nature pours out all her abundance, &c., they have then a large plain upon their hands, which they know not what to do with.â€�—Tristram Shandy, vol. ii., p. 123. The reader will then please to consider that my party has reached in safety the banks of the Russian River.
This is a broad stream, and in the summer months when the water becomes low, it runs sluggishly; but high among the branches of the alder-trees that line the banks, are accumulations of sticks and rubbish that mark the height to which the river rises when the mountain snow begins to melt, and it changes its present lazy rippling pace for the turbulent roar of a cataract, and overflows the adjacent plains.
Being nightfall, we encamped without crossing, and at daylight we were dismayed at discovering that our beasts had been stolen; we had no reason to suspect the vaccaro, who at all events acted surprise to perfection, if guilty of connivance; but mules and horses were gone, and the riattas with them. Some expert thieves had tracked us, and as we were in ignorance as to who they were, we laid the whole matter at Quilp’s door. I have since discovered by experience, that if a band of Mexicans are determined to have your horses, they generally manage it by some means, in spite of the utmost vigilance; with our inexperience and the possible connivance of the vaccaro (of which, however, there was not a shadow of proof) the task was easy. I discharged the vaccaro, and we crossed the river on foot, taking off our clothes and carrying them in a bundle on our heads. The water was so refreshing, that the task of taking over our baggage piecemeal, was one of pleasure, and helped wonderfully to counterbalance
CHAGRES RIVER.
the annoyance I felt at the loss of my mules—a loss which entirely precluded my further advance into the country. Leaving Barnes with the baggage and dogs, Thomas and I proceeded in search of a back-woodsman’s hut, which we had been informed existed in this direction; after following the river for some time, we ascended a steep hill, from the summit of which was presented the most lovely panorama—beneath us the thickly wooded plain extended for miles—on one side bounded by mountains, on the other, melting away in a blue hazy distance;—the windings of the Russian River were marked distinctly in contrast with the dark rocks and foliage that lined its banks, whilst immediately beneath us was a forest of firs and red-wood trees, over which the vultures wheeled incessantly, and not even the sound of an insect disturbed the silence of the scene.
From this hill we discovered the hut of which we were in search, situated near a running stream and surrounded by towering red-wood trees. We found the occupant at home; he was a tall sinewy man, a Missourian of the name of March, and he at once cheerfully assisted us. He lent us his mule to bring up our baggage, and by nightfall we were encamped within a few yards of his hut. There were two other backwoodsmen living with March, and these three
had just completed unaided a saw-mill, to which they had applied the power of the stream, by means of an over-shot wheel. The heavy beams that formed the mill-frame, the dam and race, had all been constructed from the adjacent forest trees, and now that the work was completed, wanting only the saw, for which they intended to go to San Francisco, it seemed incredible that so large a frame could be put together by so small a number of men. This saw-mill erected in the forest and of the forest, raising its long beams from the midst of the romantic scenery that surrounded it, was a glorious instance of what energy will accomplish, and of the rapidity with which each man in an American colony contributes towards the development of the new country’s resources.
And it contrasts strangely with the languid inertness of those communities, who with equal brains and hands ponder and dream over the means of supplying wants, even when they have long been felt; to see that here even the uneducated backwoodsman devotes his time and energy to preparing for the wants to come; buoyed up by an admirable confidence in the rapid growth and prosperity of his country, which confidence is part of his education, and one great secret of his success. If the Americans go a-head, it is principally because they “look a-head.� March when he planned his mill and felled his first tree in this solitary forest, ranked with those who wrote from the tents of San Francisco for steam-engines and foundries. Now as I write, these latter are performing their daily work in the city, and have become essential to its wants, whilst March’s mill, seemingly so out of place where I first saw it, can now barely supply the wants of the numerous agricultural population that is settling round about it. March and his companions lived entirely on game, which he assured me abounded; and as for the present at all events I could not proceed, I determined at his advice to walk over the hills and look at a valley on which he strongly recommended me to “squat;� we therefore started the next morning in search of it, following the directions that March had given us for our guidance to the spot.
CHAPTER VI.
THE LITTLE VALLEY—THREE MARTYRS—MOUNTAIN LIFE—THE POOR DOES—CASTOR-OIL—A SICK DOG—THE CARPENTARO—GREY SQUIRREL—DIGGER INDIANS—RED-WOOD TREE—AMERICAN RIFLES—GRIZZLY BEAR HUNT—SHELDON WOUNDED—DIFFICULTY IN KILLING THE BEAR—HABITS OF THE BEAR—A THIEF.
September, 1850.
The country which we now traversed consisted of a series of small round-topped hills, uniform in size but varying in feature. The whole had been long since subjected to violent volcanic action, so whilst one hill was crowned with a grotesque mass of rock and cinder, round which the tall wild oats waved desolately, the next enchanted the eye with a profusion of evergreen oaks and flowering arbutus. These hills altered in character as they had been subjected to, or had escaped from the volcanic shower; thus whilst on one side was a huge mound of lava destitute of all vegetation, on the other was a dense mass of rich underwood, from which rose groups of the stately red-wood tree.
We saw several old craters, and the cindery desolation that encircled them for some distance yielded suddenly to the encroachment of vegetation; a strife for mastery between these two had existed, and you may believe, if you please, as I do, the volcanic agency to have been under the management of an evil gnome, the wild vines and arbutus to have been protected by a good fay, and that after numerous fierce engagements, a lasting peace had been concluded and the territory equally divided.
We put up several hares and covies of partridges, whose parents had never been shot at, and we fully satisfied ourselves as to the existence in abundance of both bears and deer.
Arrived at the summit of a hill, the little valley we were in search of lay at our feet. It was scarcely twenty acres in extent, level as a table, bounded on one side by masses of red-wood trees, and on the other by a fine stream, whose banks were shaded with alders and wild vines. The valley itself was free from shrub or tree, excepting that from the centre there rose a clump of seven gigantic red-woods, which growing in a circle, and meeting at the roots, formed a natural chamber to which there was but one inlet.
As the land we were on belonged to the United States government, I determined to take March’s advice, and squat on this valley, for I became at once enchanted with it, as indeed were my companions: I therefore affixed to the red-wood trees a paper I had long prepared and kept in my knapsack for immediate use, and which ordered all men to take notice that F. M. claimed, under the laws of pre-emption, one hundred and fifty acres of land measuring from that spot, and that he intended to defend his right by force of arms, &c. &c.
Considering that, saving the wild Indians, human foot had probably never crossed the spot, the notice scarcely seemed necessary, and the Indians did not respect it, as I shall have occasion to show hereafter.
By the time we had walked thoroughly over the property and discovered fresh advantages, and had drunk of the stream and found the water excellent, it was dusk, and not being sufficiently satisfied with our landmarks, to try our way back to our camp that night, we determined on passing it in the red-wood clump; the fire was soon stacked and lighted—that jolly camp-fire that on the instant suffuses everything around it with its cheerful ruddy glow, and sends its sharp crackle merrily up through the air, throwing a charm over the most inhospitable desert, and giving a zest to the hunter’s meal be it ever so homely. How naturally as we sit around it we recall the memory of wet seasons, When benighted, damp, chilly, and tired, we selected amidst the falling mist, the driest and most sheltered spot in the wet brushwood; how we laugh now at the vain attempt to kindle damp leaves and undergrowth; the partial success that engendered hope, only to render the failure of the last match more intolerable; the dark long night, dreary, drizzling, with one of us on guard for danger, and all unable to sleep, watching impatiently for the morning, with the first dull streak of which we stretch our half stiffened limbs, and shouldering the dead game, that no camp-fire over night converted into a well-earned and needful supper, seek some sheltered spot elsewhere, and make a breakfast of it. The recollection of nights like these—and they fall to the lot of every hunter—causes one to contemplate the blazing embers with a simple gratitude, that is not always engendered elsewhere by the possession of the comforts of this world.
We had a leash of hares, which being skinned and cleaned were impaled on withers and placed at the fire to roast, where they looked like three martyrs flayed alive, and staked. Whilst they were cooking we filled the red-wood clump with several armfuls of long oat-straw from the adjacent hill.
After worrying the three hares, we lighted our pipes, and picquetting the dogs round us, we gave ourselves up to the pleasures of a comparison of the happiness of our position as compared with that of other men, and then I sunk into a gentle slumber (of course), while my companions snored in unison with the dogs.
We rose with the sun; and properly speaking, I should take advantage of that fact to inform the reader what part of the surrounding scenery was first bathed in yellow light, and what remained in obscurity; what the deep blue of the distant mountains contrasted with, and what completed the picture in the foreground: but these things are to be found better described in any book of travels of the day; and moreover, at the time of which I am writing, I was not gazing at the landscape, but was proceeding rather unpoetically to bathe in the river, munching on my way the leg of a cold martyr.
In the course of the day we moved our baggage from March’s Mill to our new possession, where I determined on passing the winter.
I decided upon enclosing the valley and rendering it fit for agricultural purposes, but as the winter was approaching, I saw that the first thing requisite was to send for a quantity of useful articles that I had stored in readiness at Sonoma, and which consisted of carpenter’s tools, blankets, powder and shot, books, and a small quantity of groceries. For these I despatched Thomas, and the red-wood clump having been perfected in its internal accommodations, by the addition of a boarded floor, a brushwood roof, with a convenient rack for the rifles, and a secure magazine for the powder, Barnes commenced laying his axe to the red-wood trees on the other side of the stream, whilst I shouldered my rifle and supplied the larder.
There is but one species of deer here—the black-tailed—and the venison, though generally fat, is insipid, owing perhaps to the fact that the dry season parches up every blade of green stuff, and the deer live on the long self-made hay, which in some parts is very plentiful, but not nutritious. The deer are generally found in herds of from five to seven, and it requires great caution to “bag them.â€�
As the wind at this season of the year blows with little variation from the same point, my ground was almost always of the same nature, the river being in my rear, and the mountains before me. Stalking was out of the question, for from the peculiar formation of the country, which consisted of a series of undulations, no extended view could be procured of a herd, and the long grass which afforded them cover abounded with rattle-snakes. The only plan in such a country is to keep your eyes about you, not forgetting the ground, and walk the deer up, against the wind of course, taking advantage of any cover that may be in your path, in the shape of a rock, and using great caution in showing yourself over the rising ground. The herd will probably then start up with a bound from the long oat-straw at your feet, but seldom afford a fine shot, as they plunge away half concealed by it; now you throw yourself down, and see, the herd has stopped within a hundred yards of you; and here a buck advances chivalrously in defence of his harem—five paces—ten—now he is troubled; for although there is pride in his nostrils, and anger in his stamping hoof, there is indecision in those working ears, and by his eye you may read that if anything very ugly appears, he will run away. But a doe advances; this nerves her lord to a few paces more;—now you may fire;—full at the shoulder;—crash—poor buck! Now load again, and then rush up and cut his throat, he is stone dead; rattle, tattle, tattle, tattle,—mind the snake! Now flay him, if you want the skin, or quarter him if you don’t: this done you can carry home a haunch, the skin, the antlers, the tongue and the brains, and these, with your accoutrements and the hot sun, will probably tire you before you get home. In the evening the poor does, with their soft hearts still palpitating, from the nasty noise your rifle made, and the very ugly appearance of yourself generally, will stand in a group, and turn their wistful eyes in the direction where last they saw their master, and wonder—poor innocents—why he is not there as usual to lead them proudly down to the stream, and take his station on the bank to ward off any danger whilst they drink. Night comes, but he does not appear; then they wander about, and cry and pass a miserable night, whilst you are making a good supper off the buck, and are speaking jocularly of him as a “fat old rascal.â€�
The deer is very inquisitive, and if when you have walked up a herd, and have thrown yourself down, in the long grass, you extend your loading rod above your head, with a piece of rag attached to it, the bucks will, even though they wind you, generally approach within killing distance, which, when shooting as I was, for subsistence, should not be more than seventy yards if possible. It is always better to make this rule when shooting for the “larder.� Where game is thin, fire at nothing that you don’t think certain, until the day wanes, and necessity and an empty stomach oblige you to shoot at everything you see. Where game is wild and difficult to approach, and you are living on your gun, too much precaution cannot be taken to insure, if possible, the bagging of everything you hit; for if anything makes sporting cruel, it is the habit that some have of trying long shots, and sending poor brutes away to die a lingering death in the brush. Moreover, I was much in the position of a man with a preserve, and that not overstocked. I could not afford to drive my game, by careless shooting, out of my own beat, and the nature of my country was such that the want of cover in the undulating hills rendered the deer very alert whilst feeding there, and when they took to the mountains in alarm they were lost to the hunter, if alone, so far as this, that they invariably managed to keep a large sized hill between him and themselves; for the Russian River deer are actually cunning, and never did I see one take to a ravine, or lay himself open in any way when once he ascended the steep. I have often killed before I have left the house twenty minutes, but far more frequently have walked the whole day without seeing a deer.
We recovered some wounded deer with the assistance of the blood-hound, Prince; but just as he became useful, he was attacked by a distemper peculiar to the country, which affects the hindquarters with paralysis, and generally kills. I think I saved Prince’s life by administering a tremendous dose of castor-oil on the first appearance of his symptoms, but he was a very sick dog for a long time, and staggered like a three days’ old calf. Having mentioned castor-oil, I wish to do justice to its invaluable qualities, which would not perhaps have been so thoroughly tested by us were it not that our sole stock of medicine consisted of two quart bottles of it. It was successfully applied to both man and beast in every complaint, and acted with a little tobacco-leaf, as a balm for all outward wounds.
Barnes, who was a famous axe-man and was possessed of unusual physical strength and endurance, soon felled a large number of the giant red-woods in the rear of our valley, in order to split them and convert them into rails for enclosing the farm. If we should speak well of the bridge that carries us over, we should also speak well of the tree that roofs us in for the winter, but the red-wood tree (Arbor Vitæ) deserves especial notice on its own merits, which I shall proceed to detail. The size and height attained by the red-wood in California are very wonderful, and faithful accounts of these trees have been received with incredulity. The average size of the full-grown trees may be quoted at from five to six feet in diameter, and about 150 feet in height. This tree maintains in some instances so perfect a perpendicular, that in felling it on a calm day, if one is cut towards the centre, a very small portion of the heart will sustain the immense trunk. The largest tree we discovered at Russian River was not far from the house. Measuring it six feet above the ground, its circumference was 40 feet, and its height about 200 feet. But in Calaveras county, a group of trees exists which measure respectively, 27 feet, 20 feet, 23 feet, 18 feet, and 16 feet in diameter, and from 200 feet to 250 feet in height. The largest of these was felled and the bark removed to San Francisco, where it was erected in its original position, and formed a capacious room.
The timber of the red-wood is very durable, and is so easily worked that a man needs but an axe, a betel and a few wedges, to convert the largest of them, provided they are free from knots, into planks, rails or clap-boards, and I have seen Barnes fell a huge fellow, and in less than a fortnight he has carried it all away but the boughs and the bark. It is a fine sight to watch one of these trees fall to the axe; leaving the perpendicular at first so leisurely; then gathering impetus as it nears the ground, crushing all it meets, making the earth vibrate with its shock, and sending forth a booming echo, that startles the game far and wide. The bark of the red-wood is perforated in every direction, and with great regularity, by a kind of starling, called, from this peculiarity, carpentaro, or carpenter. These birds form cells in the tree with great assiduity, and deposit therein acorns, which fit very tightly. They are very quaint and noisy, and employ themselves continually, when not fighting, in depositing acorns in the red-woods. You may see a dozen of them clinging to the bark of one tree in the most uncomfortable positions, pecking away, each at a hole. But the carpentaros work for the more lazy portion of creation, and one of their enemies is the beautiful grey squirrel which abounds here. I have often watched a grey squirrel ascend a red-wood; for the birds work in the upper part of the tree. He is immediately surrounded by carpentaros, who, knowing him of old, are at no loss to divine his object, but the open day robber, nothing daunted, at once extracts an acorn, and popping it in his mouth, he turns his head from side to side in the quaintest manner possible, as if to say to the birds that chatter around him, “Pray go on, don’t mind my feelings.� Then down he comes whisking his beautiful silvery tail. Then the carpentaros assemble round the pillaged hole, and scream over the matter so much that you may imagine them to be abusing the squirrel in their choicest slang; and presently up comes grey squirrel again for another acorn, having found the first so good; and then, fresh carpentaros having arrived, the noise becomes so intolerable, that the most enthusiastic of naturalists would walk off with his fingers in his ears. The grizzly bear also takes advantage of the exposed condition of the carpentaro’s winter provision, and climbs the red-wood in much the same fashion as the grey squirrel, though less gracefully; so they say: I never saw a bear in this position, and if unarmed I should not wait to study his habits, if I did; for although naturalists tell us that the bear is graminivorous, there is no doubt that the grizzly would sacrifice all the acorns that grow for a juicy piece of the calf of one’s leg.
The carpentaro has a more destructive enemy than even the squirrel or the bear, and a greater beast than either—the Digger Indian. These miserable specimens of humanity will light a fire at the root of a well-stocked red-wood tree until it falls; they then extract the carpentaro’s acorns and fill many baskets full, which they carry away.
“Eat as much as you like, but pocket none,� the justly indignant carpentaros might say.
The red-wood tree is the main-stay of California. The supply is inexhaustible, but nature has been sufficiently capricious to make them most abundant in very inaccessible spots, whilst the level plains are covered with a short-grained dwarf oak, serviceable only for firewood. But, however steep the mountains, the Californian red-wood has to fall and to be fashioned to the use of man, and when a steam saw-mill gets perched upon a mountain-top the romance of the forest is gone; its silent grandeur no longer awes the mind; and the trees, whose size and beauty caused such deep impressions and such grave reflections, fall into insignificance as you see them torn into planks and packed on waggons, whilst the once still forest resounds to the sound of the axe and the shrill whistle of the steam-engine. I have been very disappointed at finding these sudden changes in revisiting some of my old hunting-grounds.
Thomas now arrived with our stores, which we unpacked with great pleasure, as they had not seen the light since we had boxed them up ourselves in England, and every article was associated with home. We set to work, and in a fortnight had completed a two-roomed house, close to the red-wood clump: we then converted that apartment into a larder and storehouse.
It is not my intention to dwell very much upon the subject of deer-shooting, as, even could I say what has not been said before by mightier hunters than I, the subject has interest for sporting men alone.
I have mentioned in the early part of this chapter, that bears were said to be plentiful in the country I had chosen for my sojourn. The Californian hunter holds the grizzly bear in great respect; and not without reason, when we consider that this animal is difficult to kill, that he is a relentless pursuer when wounded, and that he can run and climb under ordinary circumstances, with more agility than his assailant. On this account, and from the fact that you must, from the nature of his haunts, attack him on foot, a wounded grizzly bear is a worse enemy to encounter than a tiger. March had promised to make up a bear hunt for us, and in a day or two he came over to the farm with two hunters of the name of Sheldon and Carter; both hard-looking fellows, carrying nothing but their rifles, a knife, and a Colt’s revolver, which latter is invaluable in all kinds of hunting.
The Americans carried rifles of their own make; capital make too, though too weak in the lock on account of the cheap price at which they are supplied. The bore of their rifles seemed small for bear-shooting, carrying a half-ounce ball, but they seemed to consider that their skill in shooting counter-balanced this deficiency. I carried the only rifle that I ever used of those I took out, one of German make, carrying a ball of an ounce and a half. I should say here that our rifles were often the subject of discussion with these honest fellows. I had two Rigby’s with an accumulation of sights, which were perfectly useless for my work, although they were beautifully finished weapons; and Barnes’s friendly disputes concerning the relative merits of the American barrel, with its enormous weight of metal and long point-blank range, and the English lock, with its wholesome click, and the American stock, with its carved butt, that gives so much steadiness to the muscles of the body when you aim, resulted in a combination that was highly approved of by all parties; for all these good qualities were amalgamated by the construction of a new stock, and thus a rifle was produced that amongst ourselves enjoyed great celebrity, and this rifle March has probably in his possession to this day.
The German rifle, to which I have alluded, was rather too short, but very true within a hundred yards, and its qualities were expressed by its name, “shoulder-breaker,� engraved on the stock. It is a rare thing to get a good rifle carrying a heavy ball.
We started at once in search of our bear—six in number—and accompanied by a small dog belonging to Sheldon. It was not until the afternoon that we struck upon a fresh bear sign, of which March had had previous knowledge. The sign led into thick underwood in which the bear seeks shade, but which is the worst of all places for killing him. March disposed us in couples; we then spread and entered the thicket at a partially cleared part. Almost immediately I heard a crash, and an angry roar, and then a shot was fired to the left. It was necessary for us to retrace our steps, on account of intervening jungle, to rejoin our party, which done, the bear was in view. I was astonished at his size; standing on his hind-legs with his mouth open like a thirsty dog, and working himself up and down, he indicated that he felt the inconvenience of the pellet that March had intended for his heart, but which had lodged in his alimentary canal. However, in an instant, and as if by a sudden impulse, he again assumed the position of a quadruped and bounded towards March and Sheldon, clearing as much ground at each stride—for he was as big as an ox—as would have done credit to the winner of the Liverpool steeplechase. A shot from the right altered his course again in that direction, for the grizzly bear will turn to the last assailant, and this enforces the necessity of bear-hunters supporting each other.
A momentary uncertainty on his part gave me an opportunity of troubling him with one of my 1½ oz. balls, but this only elicited a grunt and a rush in my direction. I confess that, as soon as my rifle was discharged, I felt great inclination to disregard March’s directions, which were, not to use my revolver, but if possible to reload my rifle directly I had fired, under all circumstances. Whilst in a curious state of uncertainty on this point, though loading, the bear swerved suddenly on one side in chase of the little high-couraged dog that belonged to Sheldon.
This dog had been in other bear-hunts and was generally very useful, for the grizzly has a great suspicion of anything behind him, and if a dog can be trained to worry his hams, the bear will turn round and round and afford much facility to the hunters.
I fancy the dog must have got hurt or lost his pluck, for he now rushed straight to his master, and the bear followed; Sheldon fired as the grizzly approached, but without effect, and the next moment poor Sheldon was down bathed in blood, one blow had carried away the flesh entirely from one side of his face, fracturing his jaw-bone in the most frightful manner.
The bear disappeared, and probably retired to die, whilst we carried Sheldon home, with what feelings of grief I need not say. We sent him on to Sonoma as soon as possible, and he afterwards recovered, though dreadfully disfigured, and with the loss of an eye. It was perhaps on account of this accident that we made up no more parties for the express purpose of bear-hunting, but left it to chance to meet them, and as it happened, accident threw very few in our way.
The chief difficulty in killing the grizzly bear arises from the formation of his head, which is convex. The ball generally glances off sufficiently to avoid the brain; you have in fact but three vital parts, the back of the ear, the spine, and the heart; and it is said that the grizzly bear will live long enough after being shot in the latter part to do much mischief. He is always in motion, and I think the steadiest of hunters will allow that his conduct when wounded is not calculated to improve one’s aim. The very fact of finding that you hit him so often without effect, destroys confidence, and the sudden rushes that the bear makes at his assailant is a great trial to the hunter’s nerve. There are many accidents of the description I witnessed on record, although I know one or two instances of bears being killed at the first shot.
It appears to me that a recorder of travels has a difficulty to surmount, which falls to the lot of no other writer, for whilst duty admonishes him to give a strictly veracious account of everything that comes before his notice (and of a great deal that does not), inclination and the publisher prompt him to avoid prosiness, for this very good reason, that if he enters into details he bores his readers; but then, on the other hand, if he is not sufficiently specific, he is pronounced a “superficial observer.�
This observation is induced by the necessity of my introducing, at all costs, further accounts respecting the grizzly bear.
When we consider the weight of the grizzly, which often reaches fifteen hundred pounds, the enormous strength of which he is possessed, as evidenced by the limbs of trees which he will wrench from the trunk, and his extraordinary speed and activity, we have reason (speaking as one who lives in his vicinity) for congratulation that the animal is of inoffensive habits, and avoids the presence of man. The sole instance to the contrary is that in which you are unfortunate enough to invade the domestic circle of the she-bear when accompanied by her cubs: she invariably gives chase the instant she sees the intruder, who, if he is wise, will “draw a bee-lineâ€� in an opposite direction. In running[5] from a bear, the best plan is to turn round the side of a hill, for the bear having then as it were two short legs and two long ones, can’t, under such circumstances, run very fast. There is but one sized tree that you can climb in safety in escaping from a bear, and you may run a long way before you find it. It must be just too small for your pursuer to climb up after you, and just too large for it to pull down, a nice point to hit. The she-bear is invariably irascible when nursing, and perhaps this accounts for the fact that the male-bear is seldom found in her company; to her he leaves the education and support of their progeny, whilst he seeks amusement elsewhere—I might say at his club, for it is the habit of bears to congregate in threes or fours under a tree for hours, and dance on their hams in a very ludicrous manner, with no apparent ostensible object but that of passing the time away and getting away from their wives.
I have heard many anecdotes related of grizzly bears. I choose the following as characteristic of a well-established fact that the bear, even when infuriated, not only acts from the instinct of self-preservation, but seems loth to kill and mangle what it attacks.
In the hills round San José, an unarmed negro came suddenly on a she grizzly with cubs. She pursued him, and fortunately for him struck him on the head, which knocked him down, but did not of course (he being a nigger) inflict any serious damage on the part assailed. The man wisely remained perfectly still, whilst the bear, who knowing nothing about “darkies’� heads, supposed she had gained the day by a coup de main, retired for a short distance. After remaining quiet, as he supposed, sufficiently long, the negro thought of getting up, but his first movement was arrested by a crack on the other side of his head, and down he went again, and the bear retired to watch over his interests. It was a long time before the negro again attempted to rise (for more reasons than one), and this was not until the bear had quitted the spot, apparently satisfied; but no sooner was Quashy up to look about him, than the bear darted out from another quarter, and this time she did poor Darky great injury: she tore his back and knocked him senseless, and then half covered him up with leaves. After this she was quite satisfied, and the negro was shortly afterwards discovered and resuscitated, and felt quite unwell all the next day; but told this story long afterwards to me with great satisfaction, and, I need not add, with unimpeachable veracity.
I have mentioned the dexterity with which the Spaniard throws the lasso, and the weapon has been successfully employed in entrapping the bear. The noose is thrown over him when he is near a tree, and by riding in a circle he is secured by a dozen thongs. This is one of the feats which the Spaniards assure you they can do.
Although the grizzly’s natural food consists probably of roots and acorns, I suppose he must be ranked as omnivorous, for he certainly crunches a bone with great gusto. The bears cleared off any bones that were lying round our hut; and, in one instance, we shot at a couple that came close to our door at night and stole the bones from under the noses of the dogs. One bear walked away with a large piece of meat and the iron hook on which it hung, but whether he swallowed the hook with the bait, or pulled it out with his fingers, we never ascertained; he never brought it back again, so we indulge in the hope that it sticks in his jaws to this day, and that he has found out “qu’il n’y a point de roses sans des épines.�
Bear meat is eatable, but very devoid of flavour, and I think the grizzly indulges in too much gymnastic exercise to qualify him for the table of the epicure. He figures in the bill-of-fare at all Californian Restaurants, and, as a great number of the common black bears are caught alive in traps, the San Francisco hairdresser has no difficulty in “sacrificing, on any occasion, a real animal for the benefit of his customers.�
CHAPTER VII.
DEER HUNTING—WILD BULLS—WILD FOWL—A DUCK GUN—DRIVING AN OX-TEAM—I REFLECT—AN ESTAMPEDE—THE TIGER CAT—RAINY SEASON—INDIAN FIRES—WASPS—WE ARE ROBBED BY THE INDIANS—I KILL A BEAR—CROSSING A SWOLLEN RIVER.
Christmas, 1850.
To render agreeable a life where men are thrown entirely on their own resources, the chief point is to ensure contentment, and nothing conduces more to this end than to apportion to each one of the party an equal and strictly-defined share of work. Forest life, in my case, never altered the relations that existed between myself and those in my employment, nor will real respect ever vanish under the familiar contact which such a life imposes.
I gave Barnes the woods and forests, which was not such a sinecure as it is here, as he had full employment for the winter in felling the red-woods, and splitting them into rails for enclosing the farm. Thomas undertook the “hewing and drawing,� the cooking, and the internal cleanliness of the house; and this latter is very essential in mountain life. Take everything out of your hut daily and hang it in the sun; then, water well the floor; this drives away the vermin, which abound in the deer and hare skins; it also ensures you against scorpions and centipedes, which are apt to introduce themselves into the firewood. It devolved on me to supply the larder, and the amount of exertion required for this duty varied considerably. One day an easy walk would bring me to a marsh, and a few shots from my double-barreled gun would secure as many wild-ducks as we required, but on another I might be doomed, after a long journey, to extend myself over the carcase of a buck, and then, exposed to a glaring sun, unaided, flay my quarry and disembowel him, quarter him, and carry him home piece by piece, over four or five miles of successive cindery hills. I had no stout little pony with a shaggy mane and tail, such as one sees carrying home the deer in Landseer’s splendid pictures. I had to take as much meat as I could “pick-a-back,� or else leave it to the coyotes, who would appear in sight whilst I was yet at work on the carcase. If this part of a hunter’s duty was entailed upon our fashionable deer-stalkers, many of the deer would reap the benefit, not so much by being flayed and carried home by members of the aristocracy, as in being left alone.
The monotony of this life was varied by excursions into the adjacent country, and these would last two or three days; during which time we left the hut to take care of itself; and, carrying each a rifle and a blanket, with a few other necessaries, we passed our nights by the camp fire, and in the day discovered wonders of nature that amply repaid us for our journey. The first object that attracted our attention was an immense hill of sulphur, and we discovered hot springs strongly impregnated with this mineral in its immediate vicinity. Round one of the springs was an apparently hard crust of sulphur, but this was treacherous, as Thomas found out, for it was the cause of his tumbling in and getting a medicated bath; and, although he soon dried, he smelt so strongly of lucifer matches for some days afterwards as to be almost unbearable. We brought some of the sulphur, which was very pure, away with us. We also discovered large craters, and igneous rocks, piled in such vast confusion as indicated the blind fury with which the earth had torn and rent itself on some former great occasion. The whole of California has been subjected to more than ordinary violent disturbances, but the vegetation of thousands of years has decomposed since then, and the huge rocks that were once hurled, red-hot, I dare say, into the air, are now deeply-embedded in the surrounding soil.
These excursions opened a new field for our rifles, for, whilst taking a bird’s-eye view one morning from the elevation on which we had encamped, our attention was arrested by the appearance of a herd of wild cattle. Having observed the direction in which they were grazing, and finding that, unfortunately, the direction of the wind prevented our heading them, I adopted a plan which proved successful. Carefully keeping them in sight from the rear, as I knew that water was not immediately ahead of them, I foresaw that towards sunset they would alter their course, and, guided by their instinct, graze towards the nearest spring. This they did in the afternoon; and having now a side wind, we hastened to look for cover in their line of march, glad to exchange the slip-shod pace at which for hours we had followed their movements, for a brisk double in the other direction. As soon as we had hit our line, I sent Barnes out to reconnoitre, and he immediately returned, having discovered the spring and a good cover a little in advance of it. We soon took up our positions, and before long the herd appeared in view: five black bulls, one a young one. They were most beautiful beasts, with sleek and glossy coats; thin in the flank, broad in the chest, and rather short of horn. They evinced uneasiness at once when within shot, and stared in our direction, snuffing the air and pawing the ground. As the young one presented his broadside, he fell on his knees to “shoulder-breaker� and, tail on end, went the rest of the herd at a long trot over the hills. We walked up to our friend to give the “coup de grâce,� but, through a want of caution, not usual with him, Barnes got a bad bruise, for the bull, by a sudden exertion, rose and plunged at him, catching him full in the chest, and knocking him down, then fell down himself, never to rise again. Barnes felt some pain for a day or two, which we allayed with the infallible castor oil: but I rather suspect his chief annoyance was caused by having been floored by a young bull, for whom, under ordinary circumstances, I think he was a match in physical strength.
Although wild cattle are not described as being indigenous to the country, I have no doubt, from their appearance, that these were so, and that their cows were not many miles away. It is vexatious to be obliged to leave a fine carcase to the wolves and vultures; but as a bullock is too much for three men, and we were far from home, we cut out the best part of it and returned to camp; and the coyotes made a fine noise, during the night, over what remained.
The wild fowl now came over in heavy flights and settled in our vicinity. The geese were in incredible numbers; white and grey geese and brant. Of ducks we had several varieties, many of them quite unknown to me, and I regret that I failed, from want of materials, in my endeavours to preserve specimens of them. The geese are very easily shot when first they arrive, but soon become very wary. The easiest and best plan is to construct little huts of green stuff near the marshes they frequent, and you are sure of good flight shooting at daylight. I had a large duck-gun that I had used in punt-shooting in Norfolk, but it was very rebellious, and kicked so, when used from the shoulder without a rest, that I placed it under Barnes’s especial charge; and whenever he felt in particularly good health, he went out with it, and you might see him returning with geese and ducks suspended from every part of his body; his face wreathed in smiles at his good fortune; but the next morning would disclose a bruise on his right shoulder of about the size and colour of a certain popular green dessert plate. Herons and curlew were plentiful, and very tender, jack-snipe in great abundance, but I never disturbed them, for I am a bad snipe shot, and the first rule in the mountains is to spare your powder. Hares and partridges were in abundance, yet were also spared, as we wished them about the place; but rabbits were rather scarce and very small. If the love of sport, therefore, was sufficient to chain one to this spot, the above enumeration will show that we had not only ample occupation, but variety; yet I determined on adding farming to my other amusements, and although it recurred to me that when I gave up “gentleman farming� in England, I registered a vow to leave such things to those who better understood them, I thought there could be no danger in trying “an acre of maiden soil.�
It was our custom of an evening, after our supper was over, the fire piled up with blazing oak logs, and each man had lighted his pipe and received a noggin of schnappes, after the fatigues of the day, to congregate in one room and there, after lighting a candle, one of us would read a book aloud. I had a good stock of books, though they travelled in a small compass, and as they were, for the most, by Fielding, Smollett, De Foe, Le Sage, Goldsmith, and that class of writers, they all bore reading twice, and more than twice; so that our evenings were passed very sociably. Barnes, too, who was an uneducated man, was taking instructions in writing from Thomas, and began to learn in this wild spot what they never tried to teach him in the Christian village where he first saw the light. One evening these amusements were set aside for the discussion of the subject of the cultivation of a piece of the farm. Onions were at this time commanding fabulous prices in San Francisco; and a very simple calculation proved, as distinctly as possible, on paper, that one acre planted with onions would realise an enormous profit, provided the onions came up. To ensure this last important point, I engineered a ditch, which was to convey water for their irrigation from our stream; and leaving the others to carry out these works, I started on foot for San Luis, where I arrived, after two days, very footsore. I procured a plough, a waggon, a yoke of strong American oxen, and a fresh supply of groceries, and I then paid a flying visit to San Francisco in a small fishing-boat, and returned to Sonoma with seeds of all kinds, a box of horse-radish roots, which came in very well afterwards with wild bull, and about 500 fine young fruit-trees. The difficulty now was to get my ox-team up to Russian River, for I knew nothing of driving oxen. However, I took lessons from an American teamster; and, as there are but two words of command, and each one, when delivered, is accompanied by a crack on the head of the ox nearest to you, I found the beasts soon recognised my voice and style of hitting. But I had several rather impetuous streams to pass, some of which were scarcely fordable, for the rain had set in; I was doubtful, therefore, as to the method to be adopted in forcing my team through these. This, my instructor informed me, could only be accomplished by “talking freely to the oxen;� and, to my demand for a specimen, he jumped on the waggon, and working himself into a state of apparent phrenzy, he stamped and swore, and beat them, and cracked his whip, and execrated them until they both broke into a round trot. I profited by his advice, and got through my gulches in safety, and I can only hope that the “freedom of speech� I indulged in was justified by the circumstances of the case.
I started alone, and as oxen travel very slowly, I was three days and a half getting to the farm. On my way I met a good-looking fellow with black beard and moustaches, who asked me in French the way to the nearest log hut. I entered into conversation with him, and found that he was a Normandy man of the name of Lebret. He had a gun, and a game bag, and gaiters on; in fact, he was a “Frenchman out shooting� all over, with nothing in his game-bag. I found that he was hard up and wanted employment, so I told him where I was going, offered him a berth, and with an “Eh bien!� up he jumped, and after crossing Russian River, for which we were just in time, as it was much swollen, I landed my cargo and Frenchman safe and sound at the farm, which, after my temporary absence, seemed home in every sense. And it was so. The very dogs knew it for a happy place as they bounded out to bid me welcome back. Home speaks in the grip of Barnes’s bony hand; in the studied polish that my rifle bears as it hangs above my bed; and home speaks in the eager faces that group around the fire and listen to my brief recital of what befel me since we parted.
* * * *
I had a favourite little spot on my hunting ground that I always selected for my halt; it was a little clump of sheltered rocks, and, after poking about with my loading-rod, to turn out any rattlesnake that might be there, I would sit down and enjoy the luxury of the cool shade and a pipe. All good sportsmen agree, and with great truth, in the impropriety of smoking whilst working up to game; but, after walking a few hours in the hot sun, a pipe is a great luxury, and I was always glad to reach this cover where I could indulge my propensity without fear of tainting the surrounding atmosphere.
I have often mused, as I have sat in this little den, on the life I was leading, and reflected with regret that its charms must some day succumb to use, and that, in time, even deer hunting would pall on the taste, and the excitement of a wild life become monotonous. With health beating in every pulse, with God’s best gifts strewed round him in profusion, and intellect to fashion them to use, a man acknowledges instinctively the infinite wisdom of the Creator, and feels a proportionate gratitude for His gifts.
It is easy to be grateful when one has health, strength, and freedom, and easy to flatter oneself into the belief that a life so primitive is more natural than one more civilised; but it is but the lazy gratitude of one who has nothing else to live for but himself, and who is freed, not alone from the conventionalities which a more civilised state imposes, but from all claim upon his self-denial. Freed in fact from the presence of all evils which beset man elsewhere, and tax his fortitude, his courage, and his virtue; living but for himself, with himself alone to study, he indulges in selfishness, and is happy. And this is the great foundation-stone of the charms we hear associated with a wild free life.
One night a herd of deer jumped our railings, and passing close to the hut, crossed the river at great speed, evidently under the influence of fear. We listened, and shortly afterwards heard a pack of wolves, giving tongue in the distance. The next morning the ground, which was soft, gave evidence that there had been an estampede the night before. Herds of deer had crossed and recrossed in every direction until they had forded the stream, when they made a clean bolt for the mountains. Not a hare was to be seen; and for several days we had an empty larder,—living during that time on wheat cakes, for, unfortunately, we had expended all our small shot. I imagine that wolves are very uncommon in the country, from the facts of the game becoming so much excited at their presence, and that we never heard their bark again. We did not see a wolf, but their “signâ€� was unmistakeable. One day we observed the trail of a panther near the brook, and searched for him without success; but Barnes bagged him next day to his own gun. He was up a tree when Barnes saw him, and came down with great rapidity on being shot through the skull. He was a heavy beast, a male, and of a tawny colour. This animal is called in the country the Californian lion.
The tiger cat is a beautiful animal, and very ferocious for its size; we saw two or three of these, about the size of a wild cat, and beautifully marked in the coat. I shot but one, and it was with the greatest difficulty that I could induce him to resign his life without having his skin spoilt. I was agreeably surprised, on my return one day to the hut, to find a horse, saddled and bridled, attached to our railing, and I ascertained that its owner was a countryman of mine who had been “prospectingâ€� the surrounding country, and had been directed by March to our camp. They say we are a stiff and formal people: perhaps so; but in the mountains, an Englishman needs no further introduction than to know a man for a countryman to place the best he has at the stranger’s service. You show him the river and give him a towel: you supply him with a tin plate and spoon, and he helps himself from your smoking pot: you produce a bottle of whiskey in his honour, and after placing the tobacco cannister at his elbow, and pointing out the bundle of blankets that will form his bed, you enter into social conversation. When you part from the man the next morning, you feel quite sorry, and hope to see him again, although there is little probability of that, for these are chance meetings. It is my belief that there is an honest purpose in the hearty wring of the hand that such a stray visitor gives you as he mounts his horse to depart. Whether or no, he can’t go away and say your rooms are damp, and your claret is sour, that your wife is a fright, and your pictures are trash, as people sometimes do in more civilised countries, after enjoying the hospitality of their friends. Our guest produced from his pocket, a number of Punch, and one of the Illustrated News—about five months old. I had had opportunities of reading these publications in a great many out-of-the-way parts of the globe, but I never expected that they would reach my log hut. But English periodicals creep in everywhere; and I remember that the first indication I received of some family news of importance was when, at a pic-nic at Mount Lebanon, I picked up a scrap of newspaper which had contained the mustard of some party who had preceded us, and casually glanced at its contents.
The rainy season was now approaching, and the heat became occasionally intense. At times the Indians would fire the surrounding plains, the long oat-straw of which would ignite for miles. The flames would advance with great rapidity, leaving everything behind them black and charred. At these times a dense smoke would hang over the atmosphere for two or three days, increasing the heat until it became insupportable. I had a thermometer with me during the whole of my stay in California, and could produce an elaborate[6] meteorological table; but as people say you should write as you talk, I shall dismiss the subject of the temperature of Russian River by remarking that in summer it was sometimes as warm as Hong Kong, and in the rainy season it was as cold as an average English winter. We have an officer of scientific renown in our naval service, who is selected by the Admiralty to explore the least known portions of the globe; of which parts, when he returns, he publishes an account, which would be interesting in the extreme, but, that, alas! his scientific knowledge oozes out in every line, and the reader, after hopelessly following him through a maze of figures, which are particularly addressed to, and understood only by, the Geographical Society, shuts the book in despair, and remains for life in ignorance of the habits of the Chow-chow Islanders.
The Digger Indians burn the grass to enable them to get at roots and wasps’ nests; young wasps being a luxury with them. These fires have the good effect of destroying immense quantities of snakes and vermin; and one can scarcely imagine the extent to which these might multiply were they not occasionally “burnt out.� The wasps are so numerous here in summer, as to destroy with rapidity everything they attack. Fleas not only abound in the skins of every beast you kill, but even live on the ground, like little herds of wild cattle; and ants are of all shapes and sizes, and stand up savagely on their hind legs and open their mouths, if you only look at them. The wasps attack any meat that may be hanging up, and commence at once cutting out small pieces, which they carry home, and it is astonishing the quantity they will carry away with them. What they do with it when they get home, I never ascertained; but I presumed that they “jerked� it for winter use, as the Spaniards do.
It was hard work at dinner-time, to know who the meat belonged to, for these wasps used to sting on the slightest provocation; and it was the worst part of Thomas’s duty to take a hare down from a peg and cut it up.
But neither ants nor fleas ever troubled our persons; the skins were always sent down to the river whilst yet warm, and the common precautions I adopted in-doors insured us against all annoyance.
It now commenced to rain very heavily, but not before I had, fortunately, completed a shed, and laid in a stock of fire-wood, and had also erected an additional room for drying wet clothes, &c., and for sheltering the dogs. The first rain lasted for four days without cessation; and here again I am unable to state, scientifically, the quantity of water that fell in inches, but on the fourth day the water laid on our valley of such a depth that it just plummed the top of a pair of Cording’s fishing-boots, which came up to about my knees. All the fruit trees and garden seeds were in the ground; and as we had no immediate use for our oxen, and they were up to their bellies in water, we let them run over the hills. Shortly after this the weather cleared up, and we were much distressed at missing my slot-hound. Many days elapsed before we gained any clue to his fate, until, beating up some new ground one day, I came upon what remained of the poor old fellow,—his skin and bones. He had broken away and indulged in a midnight ramble, and had evidently been attacked and overpowered by coyotes, of which two carcasses lay near him. We all felt much regret for the old fellow, for he was a good staunch dog, and had been a great favourite of my late father. We buried his remains and erected a mark to his memory; but, although I experienced the same feeling of regret that most men do when they lose a favourite and faithful hound, I shall refrain from inflicting upon the reader the doleful stanzas which are generally addressed “To my Dog,â€� on these occasions.
January 1. For two months we had alternate rain and sunshine, and nothing of moment occurred. The farm was by this time entirely enclosed, and the onions with which Barnes had planted an acre, began to appear above the ground. We had also large patches of vegetables for home consumption.
When returning one day from an excursion, we found that the Indians had paid our valley a visit, and rifled our house of everything they thought valuable; cooking utensils, blankets, clothes, and tools had disappeared,—but we had taken the precaution of depositing our powder in a secret place which they did not discover. Our rifles, and one blanket each, we had with us on our excursion. The two principal annoyances that resulted from this were, firstly, that the nights being very cold indeed now, and our house very thin, our blankets were a serious loss; secondly, they had stolen all our candles. They also stole our skins; not that I ever intended to bring these trophies away for the benefit of the public, for with the exception of the puma-skin, and some of wild cats, they were of that mild description which are only exhibited in tailors’ shop-fronts, where they assume the form of gentlemen’s hunting inexpressibles. The Indians, it afterwards appeared, were in the habit of annually following the course of our stream to gather the wild grapes which grew on its banks. These people will eat anything, but how they manage the wild grapes is a mystery, for these grapes never ripen, and green gooseberries give no conception of their acidity. In pursuit of these luxuries, however, they came upon our camp, and took away whatever they thought they understood the use of, but evidently departed in a great hurry. I never saw an Indian during the whole of my stay in that part of the country; but, after this robbery, had any ever come within rifle range either of my hut or March’s, he would have been shot like a coyote; for once let an Indian think he can steal with impunity, he will soon attempt to murder you for the clothes on your back.
Although I had determined, after Sheldon’s casualty, upon following no more bears into the bush, which is here too thick for the use of the rifle, I still hoped to kill a bear during the winter, trusting to a chance meeting under favourable circumstances; and in this respect I was gratified, inasmuch as I killed a bear to my own gun. Now, in writing from memory, one might almost be excused for a little inaccuracy in point of size and weight; and I must confess that I have an almost irresistible temptation to forget the real dimensions of the animal that surrendered life on this occasion, and, calling it simply a bear, leave its weight and ferocity to be conjectured from my general description of the species. In fact, it was a cub, that I once found playing by itself among some rocks. I should have liked to have taken him home alive, but although his movements were excessively infantine and playful to behold, I have no doubt that had I attempted to capture him, he would not only have bitten me until I had let him go, but would have hallooed for his parents, and brought those amiable persons to the rescue. So I shot him; and I had quite enough to do to carry him home dead, for he was very fat. I must mention here, that although we walked this country for nearly nine months, and continually alighted on the fresh “sign� of bear, with the exception of those that visited our hut at night, and the others above mentioned, our party saw but three bears, two of which were wounded, but escaped; and this is probably attributable to the fact that the bear’s sense of hearing enables him to follow up his natural impulse of avoiding the hunter.
A Colt’s revolver is invaluable to the deer-hunter, both for self-defence and killing wounded game. Perhaps the best praise I can award to this weapon is in saying that I have had mine for four years, during which time it has been much used and more abused, but at this moment it is perfect in every respect, and has never required repair.
We searched, or “prospected� the adjacent hills on many occasions, to discover if gold existed in the surface soil, but without success. It is worthy of remark, that this district of country is similar in every respect to that of the mining regions. Here, as there, is a succession of red gravelly hills, interspersed with veins of quartz, all of which have been subjected to volcanic agency that would long ago have ejected the gold from the quartz had there been any in it. But the mountain in labour here brought forth a mouse; whilst a few miles further south it has produced results of a much more satisfactory description. We, however, did discover a peculiar blue quartz, which, upon assay by fusion, was found to contain a large quantity of gold. The presence of silver in small quantities was also evident in another rock we discovered. But, with these exceptions, we found no trace of any description of metal but iron.
It was now spring, and I started alone, on foot, for San Francisco, where business required my presence. On arriving at Russian River I found the stream much swollen, but I struck a part of the river where I knew one of the hunters had a log-hut and a dug-out, or canoe. I reached the hut and found no one at home, but the dug-out was hauled up and the paddle was in it.
It was easy to launch the dug-out, which was very long and thin; so, seating myself in the stern, I was at once in the current. I need not say that I should never have dreamt of paddling myself over a swollen river in a canoe, had I not accustomed myself to them when in the Borneo rivers; but when I reached the middle of the stream I found the eddies made the dug-out so unmanageable, and the current was so much stronger than I imagined, and the water hissed and bubbled about me to such an extent that I had to keep the dug-out’s head nearly straight up stream, and I began to get quite giddy and bewildered, and wished I was safe on shore. I did effect a landing, an hour afterwards, about a mile lower down the river; I had just strength enough to land, and just sense enough to feel excessively grateful for not having been carried out to sea, or, what is more probable, capsized in the eddies of the stream.
CHAPTER VIII.
QUILP DEPARTS FOR THE SOUTH—SAN LUIS—RAMSEY—I AM LEFT FOR DEAD—THE EARLY HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA—DISCOVERY OF SAN FRANCISCO—SPANISH MISSIONS—A DIGRESSION—DIGRESSION, CONTINUED—A RAINY SEASON—A LITTLE CRAB.
April, 1851.
It was long after dark when I arrived at Santa Rosa Valley, perfectly “knocked up.� Englishmen are generally good pedestrians; but there is a great difference between walking on the level in well-made shoes, and dragging through deep sloughs and acres of thick clayey mud in heavy ill-fitting jack-boots, particularly when the boots appear unwilling to proceed in your society, and one or other of them is continually disengaging itself, as if wishing to be left behind regardless of expense.
I found that the Carillo family had left Santa Rosa, and the valley had been purchased by Americans for the purpose of cultivating grain, for which many parts of it were well adapted. The Carillos had departed, with horses, dogs, Indians, and Quilp, for the south, where the wine came from, where the temperature was better adapted to their “far-niente� dispositions, and where in particular Quilp was likely to enjoy a longer lease of life than his undisguised hatred of Americans would probably have permitted had he remained much longer at the valley. As slothfulness and ignorance stepped out, intelligence and industry usurped their place, and on the rich plain the wild waving oats fell to the ruthless scythe, whilst the plough upturned the maiden soil on every side.
And so must other lands and other people of this continent succumb to the increasing wants of Anglo-Saxon man. As the red-Indian retires before the pale-face, so will inert bigotry in the new world disappear before the march of energy; and the bounteous riches with which the Creator has strewed this portion of the globe must some day be under a rule that will admit of these benefits being extended to mankind, no longer to be closed to the world, through the petty warfares or restrictive seclusion of a people too inert to seize the advantages around them, and (with a full sense of this) too jealous to admit others to do so.
* * * *
About five miles from Sonoma is an “embarcadero,� or landing place, situated on a mud creek, which is navigable for small boats, and communicates with the bay of San Francisco. Here are three houses, which conjointly represent the town of San Luis; opposite the town some fishing-boats lay at anchor, and in one of these I bargained for a passage to San Francisco, in company with eight live bullocks, that were now lying on the strand, bound neck and heels together, moaning piteously, as if impatient to get to the butcher’s and have it all over.
With the exception of the owners of the three houses, the population of San Luis was a particularly floating one, being represented for the most part by the crews of the fishing-smacks, of which there were at times a great number in port.
From the centre house there proceeded the sound of a fiddle, and, as no one could be perceived outside, it became evident that the floating population had here assembled to wile away the hours until the tide served to enable the boats to leave.
I entered the house and found it to consist of a store and drinking-shop combined; and, in virtue of its latter attraction, it was filled, as I had anticipated, by the men belonging to the boats, who, already half drunk, were tossing off champagne,[7] out of tin pannikins, and drinking to a speedy voyage across the bay. The proprietor of the establishment was not only an Englishman, but he was one of those plump, rosy-cheeked, good-natured-looking fellows that attract the eye at once, and whose smile is sympathetic; he was a gentleman, that is to say, he had been educated as one, and had lived as one, and was none the less one (as I found afterwards), now that he kept a grog-shop. I shall call him Ramsey; he was one of those men who never make money, for they cannot save; so that when Ramsey left, as he did, a high and very remunerative position of trust on the Pacific coast, and came up to San Francisco with a cargo of flour, in the expectation of making a fortune; and when he determined on taking the flour up the river Sacramento, and the flour was caught in a squall in the bay and went down, Ramsey found that he had done a very foolish thing. However, all smiles and good-humour, he took the grog-shop and store at San Luis, where I found him.
Ramsey had related these adventures to me before we had been an hour acquainted; and on my presenting myself as a countryman (for there was no mistaking his Anglo-Saxon physiognomy), he had immediately relapsed into beaming smiles, and placing a bottle of champagne under each arm, he had ushered me into his little bed-room, leaving his assistant to attend to the wants of the freshwater sailors.
Understanding from him that he had lost all his personal effects when his cargo disappeared, I was surprised to find so many evidences in his bed-room of an English establishment;—a well-browned hunting-saddle and bridle, the stalk of a whip and a pair of spurs, a double-barrelled gun and fishing-rod, with some pairs of “cords,â€� were observable about the little pig-sty he called his room. In answer to my inquiring look, he said he had just had time to save these only from his wreck, and that they were pleasant things to have about one as reminiscences of old England and happy days spent in fishing and hunting there; the smile forsook his face, as it did mine, when he said this, but it soon returned again to both of us, and as we chatted away I found much to like in my new acquaintance, who was not only intelligent and well-informed, but very humorous. There was to be a ball that night at Sonoma, at the house of one Judge White, and as the boatmen had (from the effects of the champagne) delayed their departure until the next morning, I agreed to accompany Ramsey, who had been especially invited, to this festivity.
At the ball everything appeared to be conducted with great propriety; but the company was composed of honest mechanics, who, with the best intentions, danced quadrilles on a peculiar principle, inasmuch as they cut capers to such an extent as obliged the spectator, however disinclined, to smile. In no uncomplimentary spirit I made a remark in French to Ramsey on the subject, and this being overheard and but half understood, was retaliated in the following manner.
During a pause in the dances, a small gentleman, who had overheard my remark, and who was one of the most active of the chassez-croisez dancers, and was a blacksmith, though apparently small for his profession, informed me audibly, with fire in his eyes, “that if I did not like the company, I might leave it, and that d—d soon.â€� To this I could only bow my assent, and shortly afterwards, being unable to find Ramsey, I left the room, intending to wait for him at our hotel, that was close by. I had not proceeded very far, when I was suddenly attacked by the small blacksmith and three other gentlemen—blacksmiths, too, I presume; if so, they evidently mistook my head for an anvil, for they so belaboured it with bludgeons and other weapons that they almost killed me, and left me for dead, before I had time to strike a blow in defence.
When I recovered my senses, I found myself alone on the grass, and I then managed to crawl to the hotel, where I found Ramsey awaiting me, quite unsuspicious of the cause of my detention. I returned with him to San Luis, and soon found that, further than having been stunned, I had not suffered any material damage. This delayed, however, my departure for San Francisco; and during this time a circumstance occurred which is characteristic of the easy state of the law in the provincial districts at this time. The house next to Ramsey’s was occupied by a choleric old fellow, who also dispensed “notions.� This old rascal coolly shot a man over his bar on the most trifling provocation; the man died, and the murderer was taken before Judge White (who also kept a store, by the by, and gave his ball with an eye to business); the Judge not only (good, merciful fellow!) refused to detain the prisoner, but discharged him without bail, which, he said, was not requisite; and this was all that justice ever exacted at the hands of this cold-blooded villain.
I started at last, with fair wind and tide, for San Francisco, in a small yawl, with a crew of three men, who were not only half-drunk, but were about the greatest lubbers that ever went afloat. Before we reached the mouth of the creek, they managed to run the boat on the bank, where the ebb tide soon left her high and dry.
Under these circumstances, I cannot do better than introduce a sketch of the early history of California, which, however uninteresting, must be brought in somewhere; and there is no better place, I think, for imposing it on the reader, than whilst we are waiting for the flood tide to take us off, and are spitefully pelting, out of a bag of beans, the muddy little crabs that surround our stranded bark.
It was about the middle of the sixteenth century that stories of the existence of untold wealth first inflamed the minds and excited the ardour of the Mexicans and Spaniards. The expedition of Hernando de Alarcon and Francisco de Ulloa had returned in safety to Mexico, after having visited the river Colorado, and the Pacific coast as high as 30° North. Many and wondrous were the tales these bold adventurers related of precious stones, and gold and pearls; of Amazons, and wealthy cities; so that naturally the attention of the adventurous was turned in one direction only; and the dream of the young, the ambition of the aged, was to discover this Cibola—this undeveloped El-Dorado. The Viceroy of Mexico at this period was one Mendoza, a jealous opponent of the renowned Cortes. This man was sufficiently sagacious to perceive the advantages of obtaining, if possible, possession of the reported gold regions, and fitted out an expedition in the port of Natividad, consisting of two vessels, which were placed under the command of Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo, who had with him as lieutenant Bartolomé Ferrelo.
It is no honour to the viceroy that this expedition was set on foot by him, for in those days the discovery of new lands, as is well known, conferred large benefits and rewards on the potentates under whose rule the expeditions originated; whilst the brave fellows who risked their lives in carrying out the work were not only unrewarded then, but in few instances have been considered worthy even of a name in the history of the countries they have discovered. It was no slight proof of courage to undertake this voyage, for it will be remembered that not only were the vessels in use of such a class that the wonder now is that they ever rode out a gale; but the impression was strong in the minds of the mariners of that day, that the world was square, and that to arrive at its limits would bring down the punishment of Heaven for their presumption, even if they did not tumble over the edge. Nor need we wonder that such a belief existed in those superstitious days. Are there not many now among the civilised and enlightened who refuse to investigate the palpable evidences of the power of animal magnetism, from the fixed belief that there should be a limit to man’s inquiry into the mysteries of nature?
The expedition sailed, it appears, in 1542, jogging on at the rate of about ten miles a day. Cabrillo discovered in succession the southern ports of California. At some of these he touched, and found the inhabitants to consist of a half-civilised tribe of Indians, who treated him with kindness. The existence of these Indians is confirmed by later writers. Vizcaino, who visited these shores in 1602, mentions having discovered idolatrous temples on the island of Catalina.
The surveys of this expedition are not of much value to the present age, as the nautical instruments of that period were not very true; but Cabrillo’s explorations none the less assisted those who came after him, who, with instruments equally defective, hit his points with tolerable accuracy, although there was generally an error in his latitude by observation of about a hundred miles.
Cabrillo at last worked up towards San Francisco, but the heavy surf and iron-bound coast, together with the thick fogs that hang about the bay, no doubt prevented his entering, and he resolved on returning and awaiting a more favourable season; but anchoring for repairs in one of the harbours of the Santa Barbara Islands, the old sailor died, probably from fatigue and exposure to the damps and north-west winds.
The command of the expedition then devolved upon Ferrelo, who bravely made another attempt; but failing in effecting a landing, he returned to Natividad, after a voyage of 283 days. Sir Francis Drake next visited California in 1579; Juan de Fuca in 1595, and Sebastian Vizcaino in 1602. This latter entered the bay of San Francisco, though probably he was not its discoverer, and proceeded in boats as far as where Benicia now stands.
In 1769 the settlement of Upper California was commenced by Spanish priests at San Diego, and several small expeditions followed in succession until 1776, when the Roman Catholic missionaries Palou and Cambon landed in San Francisco, and established their head-quarters in that place. The settlement at this period was known by the name of Yerba Buena, from the presence of a medicinal herb which abounded in the neighbourhood, and which was held in high estimation by the Indians. Here the missionaries erected a church and other buildings, of “adobes,â€� or sun-dried bricks. The Mission flourished rapidly. The Indians soon learnt, under the tuition of the Padres, the advantages of cultivating the earth; and those of them that embraced the Catholic religion began to drink rum, and value beads, as is usual with converted savage tribes. Mexican settlers also made their appearance, and the richest portions of the country were soon appropriated by them. Gradually cattle and sheep were introduced, which in their wild state increased rapidly without much trouble to their owners, who, having nothing to do but to kill their meat and eat it, basked in the sun like lazy dogs as they were, and thought themselves the happiest of men;—and it is difficult for any one to prove they were not.
By the year 1831, the number of Christian baptisms amounted to about 7000. After this period, the Indians, from some cause or other, perhaps from a scarcity of rum, altered their minds on the subject; and although a fresh supply of priests arrived, the number of converts rapidly decreased, so much so that in the eight years preceding the discovery of gold, only 400 savages were caught and converted. And if one may judge from the specimens of converted Indians that are to be found here and there in California at the present date, one has no reason to regret that the efforts of the priests were unattended with success; for, however we may deplore the abject misery and degradation of the aboriginal tribes, it is not by the mummery of a form that such souls can be redeemed, or such unhappy natures be remodeled. On the contrary, their small glimpses of civilisation offer to their view both virtues and vices equally unknown before; then, left untrammeled to choose between the two, we see the baptised savage follow his impulses until he sinks so low in the scale of men, that his original degradation stands out almost as virtue beside him.
A holy task is that of the missionary, and bravely carried out. Let him still strive to reclaim the savage, and bring his soul to God; but yet take heed that the work be finished, for I have seen in my day converted tribes that were a mockery on all that sanctifies the missionary work, and had better, one would think, have eaten each other’s bodies in primeval irresponsibility, than, having been only half awakened to a sense of right, but fully so to a knowledge of all that is wrong, have been left to grovel in the vices that most debase humanity. How much more care does it not require to avert the steps of the converted savage from crime, than that of others of your flock!—is he not naturally more debased, more prone to adopt the broad and easy path that ever lies plain and palpably before him? Can you take a young tiger from the jungle, and having caged him, soften his natural propensities easily? You can do so only by unceasing watchfulness and coercion; cease these, and your tiger is a tiger again, as nature asserts her sway. Somewhat so it is with the savage you allure from the freedom of his hunting-ground; you show him the advantages of domestic life, and the means of applying to his benefit the soil around him; you adapt to his comprehension the simple outlines of religion, by pointing out to him that, to live in brotherhood and amity is good (and beneficial); that to wage war and hate and eat one’s enemy is bad (and detrimental); that a good Supreme Being, who can reward or punish, has said so, and that the evidence of this Supreme Being reigns, as even a savage can see, in all around. The simple aborigine accords you his belief; regretfully, perhaps, he leaves his wild prairie and the baked heads of his enemies, and will worship the “Great Spirit,â€� whose presence the poetry of his nature enables him to understand; sooner or later you baptise him, and you have your savage in the first stage of Christianity. But now you have a savage nature on your hand; you have implanted innocently what with his impulses may grow to avarice if you leave him to himself; for if he cultivates the land among the civilised he will cheat—if cheat, wrangle—if wrangle, murder; for the steps to crime are rapid in such a constitution; but if he drinks, the savage ever becomes too brutalised for reclamation.
In what does this fault lie? Not so much that the man is so constituted that he must thus err, but that, like the tiger I have used for illustration, his propensities must be ever watched and guided. The converted savage is never so alienated from his natural impulses that he can be left;—yet he is left.
If there is fault in this, it is not, I know, on the part of those who work; but to those who direct these things it might be said that it is better to convert a few, and in reality increase Christ’s fold, than sign a million with His holy symbol, yet bring their souls no nearer heaven. Yet how fruitlessly one may argue. To whom is the reproach, that while we may add our mite to aid the propagation of the Gospel abroad, we dare not relieve gaunt misery in the street at home, for fear of encouraging systematic mendicity; as if, forsooth, the blame of this belonged by right alone to those who practised it.
There are black missionaries who work as faithfully as white, and it is a startling fact to find that many of these, leaving their coloured brethren at home to the care of our white missionaries, are in our midst, attempting to alleviate, by God’s help, the misery and ignorance that exist in our great towns; and if the most festering wounds have the first claim upon the surgeon’s skill, the place of these black missionaries is here, God knows!
Why shall it still be said, and said again of us who are not loth to relieve, that our aims are misdirected from want of judgment and from ill-government? And why are the talents and energies of so many churchmen, whose beck and nod the charitable, to a great extent, obey, still turned to the Propagation of the Gospel abroad, when it requires but the opening of a proper channel at home to rid us of this great reproach?
We may condemn the love of political power, that in the main actuated the Jesuits in their efforts to propagate their faith; but how much has not the love of power, equally reprehensible, been a bar to the cure of our evils at home? Would the young and energetic of our young clergy seek a field abroad in which to work, with little reward and great privation, if the field at home was open to them?
* * * *
About the year 1845, some Americans began to congregate at Yerba Buena, and these increased so rapidly, that San Francisco was in fact an American settlement before California became a territory of the United States.
During the war that broke out between the United States and Mexico in 1846, the settlement appears to have increased in population and prosperity, although the exportation of hides never seems at any time to have been of much importance. In 1847, the population of San Francisco amounted to eight hundred, and everything gave promise that the country would soon be sought for its agricultural advantages; the attention of the Californian settlers was directed towards the supposed mineral wealth of the country, but gold was the last metal thought of. Quicksilver had already been found and worked at San Jose; and the reported existence of veins of copper, silver, coal, and limestone, caused a feverish excitement to disturb this small community.
The first discovery of gold was made in December, 1847, when some of the labourers employed at Sutter’s Mill, near Sacramento, discovered some flakes whilst constructing a ditch; ample evidence soon existed of the truth of the first reports, and the whole population flocked to the gold fields, and shortly afterwards the country became the property of the United States. Events now followed one another with great rapidity: adventurers poured in from all quarters of the globe, and ships arrived in harbour freighted with merchandise which realised tremendous profits.
The rainy season of California commences about November, and the winter of 1849 was more than ordinarily wet. It is said that nine inches of water fell on the night of the 6th of November; the whole town, which had now become important in extent, was a perfect quagmire; all rubbish and hard materials that could be procured were thrown into the streets to form a pathway, but to no purpose, for owing to the peculiar soil of the place, the mud was unfathomable. The streets were impassable to mules, for there were mud-holes large enough to drown them; in those streets which had been connected by means of a pathway of bales of damaged merchandise, it was necessary to exercise great caution in crossing, for one false step would precipitate the unwary passenger into a slough on either side, in which he stood a chance of meeting a muddy grave.
The amount of rain that fell in this winter was undoubtedly so great, that it is much to be regretted no careful record was kept, by some of those who now so eloquently narrate their adventures in connection with it.
The first of the conflagrations for which San Francisco has become so famous, occurred in December, 1849. By this, fifty houses and an immense quantity of merchandise were destroyed. Another occurred a month afterwards, causing an almost equal amount of damage.
The great fire of the fourth of May, 1850, commenced at four in the morning, in a drinking-house, and spreading with great rapidity, was not arrested until it had consumed three hundred houses, and about a million sterling of property.
These were hard blows for the young city, but nothing daunted, the citizens renewed their exertions, and in a few weeks the burnt district was again covered with buildings. Every effort was now made to secure the city against future similar calamities; many brick houses were erected, fire companies on a large scale were organised, and reservoirs for water were constructed in different parts of the town. But on the 14th of June, fate again was relentless, and a fourth conflagration, aided by a high wind, razed three hundred houses to the ground, and scattered three million dollars of property to the winds. It was whilst this fire was raging that (as the reader may remember) I arrived at San Francisco; so here ends my digest of the early history of this brave young city, and as the flood-tide is coming in, I take