OUR TRIP TO CALIFORNIA VIA THE ISTHMUS, AND EARLY DAYS THERE. FIRST
CHURCH CHOIR IN STOCKTON
At last the long-looked-for letter came that father and brother had
arrived in the mines of California, and in the letter were several
small flakes of gold wrapped in a bit of paper. We had so long hoped
against hope that the sight of the familiar writing caused the
greatest excitement. Poor mother could hardly hold out any longer and
the news was too much for her weak body, for she was just convalescing
from weeks of sickness brought on by hope deferred and waiting and
watching each day for a word from the wanderers. We were obliged to
refrain for her sake, but we were all like as if news came from the
dead--ten long months and no word. After we were somewhat quieted
sister Mary read the letter aloud. It was like reading the last will
of the departed, we were all so unnerved. At the close of the letter
we were informed to get in readiness and that the money was already on
the way for us. It had taken over two months for this letter to come
by steamer, and we counted the days for another with the gold to take
us away to California. What a consternation this news made in the
congregation! They had hoped that father might return if things were
not favorable, but the letter and the gold in the letter and the money
coming to take us away were too true. There was no hope now that he
would return. The successor of father was a young minister, Rev. Henry
Rust. He heard the news with a sad heart, for he and my sister Mary
were betrothed. Father's message was for sister Mary to take his place
as help to mother, who was not able to take the family alone over the
two oceans with all the uncertainty of travel. The weeks of waiting
were spent in preparation. Many busy fingers plied the needle (for
sewing machines were not known at that time). Young as I was, I was no
stranger to the use of the needle, for that is part of a German girl's
education, with knitting and crocheting. I was born in the time of
weaving, spinning and carding. Much brass and pewter household
articles were to be kept bright and shiny. Children in those days were
little housewives and took as much pride in having the family silver,
copper and brass polished as the older ones. The oaken floors were
made white with soft soap and sand, and the comfortable rugs of rag
carpet were woven with special care. The high-posted bedsteads with
the valance around the bottom of white linen, the canopy above draped
with chintz of the daintiest tracings of figures and flowers, and oh,
the feather bed well beaten and made high, and immaculate white quilt
finished a bed fit for a king to rest his royal body upon. While we
had not a grand home, it was a place of order, taste and refinement.
Each one was taught to feel responsible for the good or bad
impressions from strangers who visited us from time to time.
Consequently we all took pride in keeping order, which was the law of
the home, and as young as we were we felt justly proud of praise from
strangers. After school we had so much to sew, mend or knit. When that
was done, we were allowed to play until six. The evenings were spent
in preparing the lessons for the next day. My early years were spent
in work and play. Law and order was the rule, but none of us were
unhappy by the restraint. It was an education that has made the men
and women of our family what they are today. We were home keepers as
well as entertainers.
Having traveled so much during our lifetime, changing from one city to
another, we were not afraid to take this last long journey. The
difficulty was what to take, especially of many of the heirlooms that
mother still retained from her girlhood home. After inquiry and
instructions from the steamship company, we found to our dismay that
no furniture could go, as there was no way of getting it over the
Isthmus. All our long-cherished household furniture must remain
behind. Only things that could be taken up in small boats were
allowed. Kind friends of the congregation made their choice and took
them as keepsakes in remembrance of us when we were far away. This act
of kindness was much appreciated by mother, who suffered much anguish
of mind to see the familiar things of her girlhood scattered here and
there and her claim to them forever gone. She had heretofore been able
to go willingly to different places because the familiar things made
it homelike when settled in new surroundings, but this time all must
be left behind. California was too far--she was going out to the
great unknown world, far from civilization, not knowing what was
before her. If everything else had to be left, she still retained the
affection of her children, and we were as watchful of her happiness
and comfort as if we were her keeper. Her hopes of meeting father and
son, and her children with her, gave her the courage to begin the long
journey.
It was now the year 1851. Mary had been teaching in the public schools
and synagogue; sister Emma was sewing. They kept the finances from
running low, as father's salary had to go to his successor and we had
no other means of support. With good management and many friends we
all came safely through the ordeal. After the first letter we had
received no other word and the second year was passing, although we
had been ready for months with the disposal of our household goods.
The sisters kept their positions, so all went on as usual. In the
latter part of May a rap was heard at the front door and sister Mary
answered the summons and before her stood the express man of Adams
Express Company, and he handed her a canvas sack filled with gold and
a letter addressed to mother from California. Father had sent us
$1,600 and orders to come as soon as possible. He would be awaiting us
in Stockton, California. After our surprise was over, what was to be
done with all this money--we could not keep it here safely. So sister
Sarah was dispatched to one of the trustees of the church who had a
safe in his office. The money was placed in a covered basket and she
was sent with all haste to get to the office before closing time, but
fate was against her and Mr. Butler had closed the office and gone. So
she was obliged to bring it home once more. It was dark before she
came back and there were two men who followed her at a distance all
the way going and coming. What to do to protect this great amount of
money was a vital question. We occupied the first story under the
church and the front rooms faced on Betts street, as did the entrance
of the church. The original parsonage had not been occupied since we
vacated it because the new minister had no family. We still retained
the key. After our plans were made, myself and sister Sarah were sent
out on the sidewalk as if we were playing, to see if any strangers
were lurking around. Mother stood in the front door and talked with us
while sister Mary, accompanied by my small brother, took the money and
went up to the other parsonage and let herself in, then into the
church. It was still daylight. So as not to use a light, she quietly
slipped into the church, removed one side of the pulpit steps and let
my brother crawl over to the other side and put the gold beneath the
steps there. After depositing it, she quietly put everything in place
and returned to the house. Then we retired for the evening.
None of the neighbors knew of the money being received. It came at an
hour when no one was coming home or happened to be on the sidewalk.
The shutters on the first floor were solid wood so no one could molest
us. We had been clearing the house and packing things away. We were
all tired and slept well. Mary and Emma occupied the front room and
for some unknown reason left the wooden bar off that made the door
secure, and these two men came in so quietly that no one heard them.
They had unlocked the doors to escape in case they were discovered.
Mother was awakened during the night and said, "Mary, are you up?" No
answer. After a short silence she heard another sound and she called,
"Are you ill, Mary? If you are, I'll get up and help." Receiving no
answer, she reached out to light the candle, but hearing nothing more
she thought she had been mistaken and went to sleep. She arose early
and found the shutters unlocked and the side door ajar. Then she went
into the parlor and all the chairs had been taken from the front door
where they had been piled. She immediately realized that there had
been robbers in the house searching for the gold. She awoke the girls
and told them of what had happened, and you can imagine our
consternation. As long as we remained in the house we lived in fear of
a second attempt. The next morning sister Sarah was sent with the gold
to our friend, Mr. Butler, who was surprised and simply amazed at the
amount sister gave him to keep. He immediately put it into safer hands
at the mint where the gold was weighed and the value given in money
and placed in the bank subject to mother's order. When Mr. Butler was
told of the attempted robbery he immediately arranged to have the
house watched each night until our departure, which came the first
week in June, 1851. We left Cincinnati for New York and were welcomed
on our arrival by friends with whom we remained for a week. On the
following Monday we secured passage for California on the steamer Ohio
bound for Aspinwall. I was too young and also too ill to know just the
route taken, but after a month we arrived at Aspinwall, and when
our belongings were properly taken care of we started on our journey
across the Isthmus of Panama.
[Illustration: Blake
_Virtue Alone Ennobles_