[Illustration: WHERE THE GOLD COMES FROM.
F. MARRYAT DEL^{T}]
[Illustration:
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--A
Native of Virginia--Gold Train--Robbery--Panama Bells--An
Emigrant Ship--An Affecting Preacher--San Francisco 1
CHAPTER II.
A Great Country--Improvement--Adventurers--Drinking-Saloons--The
Old Judge--Banks--Mine Speculators--Gambling Houses--“Don’t
Shoot”--Climate--High and Dry 21
CHAPTER III.
Benicia--Barnes--A Mad Bloodhound--His Death--Grasshoppers--Don
Raymond--A Blessed City--Wicked Mules--“Camping Out”--Napa--Fourth
of July--Agriculturists--Sonoma--Competition--An
Irascible Bull 39
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 58
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” 78
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 97
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 122
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 144
CHAPTER IX.
The Old Crab-Catcher--Mr. Warren--American Friendship--The
American Press--Education in America--Americans Good Colonists--Californian
Correspondence 164
CHAPTER X.
Long Wharf--Clipper Ships--Chinese Emigrants--The May Fire--An
Exciting Scene--Iron Houses--Vallejo--The Coyote--Wild Geese 180
CHAPTER XI.
Coyote Hunting--My Dominions are Invaded--Thomas kills a _Bear_--A
Trial of Strength--Rowe’s “Lot”--Choctaw--Elk--A Butchery--Rough
Life--Fertility of the Soil 197
CHAPTER XII.
Another Fire--My Geological Friend--“Burnt Out”--Sacramento--Levee--
Hulks--Rats--Vigilance Committee--Start for Volcano--Crocket--“Right
Side Up” 216
CHAPTER XIII.
An Old She-goat--Our Mineralogist--Gold Diggers--Murderer’s Bar--The
Theorist puzzled--Mining Laws--Jumping Claims--The
Miner’s Life--“Let her slide”--Hostile Indians--We are disgusted--Fire-proof
Houses 231
CHAPTER XIV.
Joe Bellow--Stockton--A Bear Trapper--Bear and Bull Fights--An
Uneasy Bear--Californian Inns--Natural Roads--Good Driving--I
Kill a Flea--Sonora--The Evening commences--French Emigrants--A
Drinking Bar--Number Eighty--A Corral and a Moral 248
CHAPTER XV.
The Gold Mine--The Innocence of Sonora--Sunday in Sonora--Selling
a Horse--Carrying Weapons--Bob--We leave Vallejo--We are
“Bound to go”--The Shadow of a Crow 269
CHAPTER XVI.
I explain to the Patient Reader--Pioneers--A Lady’s Boot--Mainspring--Mexican
Robbers--Victims of Prejudice--Works on
America--Two Pigs--Power of the Human Will 286
CHAPTER XVII.
Yield of Gold--Its Duration--Mormon Gulch--The Distribution of
Gold--Tunnelling--Damming Rivers--Holden’s Garden--Energy
in the Mines--Quartz Mines--Quartz Mining successful--The
Author gets out of his Depth 304
CHAPTER XVIII.
Transport Machinery to the Mine--The Carpenter Judge, and Constable
Rowe--Cut-throat Jack--Greasers--French Miners--John
Chinaman--Chinese Ferocity--The Feast of Lanterns--Chinese
Despotism--False Sympathy 323
CHAPTER XIX.
The Firemen of San Francisco--“We strive to Save”--A Barber’s
Saloon--Oysters--Places of Amusement--A Pickled Head--Shooting
on Sight 341
CHAPTER XX.
Rat-Catchers--Drays--Crested Partridge--A Marvellous Story--Sailors
in the Mines--A Verdict--The Quartz has the best of it--I
leave Tuttle-town 356
CHAPTER XXI.
Advice to Emigrants--Gold Countries--Self-Doctoring--Advice continued--I
arrive at Stockton 373
CHAPTER XXII.
Elections--Executions--Reforms--Exiles--“Know Nothings”--Testimonials--Speaking
Trumpets--Ocean Steamers--Life-Buoys--Air-Boats--Confidence
necessary--Fitting a Raft--A Suggestion 387
CHAPTER XXIII.
“Hercules” fails--Land Crabs--Mr. Bobbins--Rushing the Ship--New
York 406
CHAPTER XXIV.
Yellow Fever--A Wooden Head--Hard Times--A Gale--We Spring
a 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.
PAGE
WHERE THE GOLD COMES FROM _Frontispiece_
HIGH AND DRY 37
CHAGRES RIVER 92
WINTER OF 1849 162
BAR ROOM AT SONORA 224
HORSE AUCTION 274
SAN FRANCISCO--A FIREMAN’S FUNERAL 344
CROSSING THE ISTHMUS 406
LIST OF WOODCUTS.
DRAWN ON WOOD BY MR. L. C. MARTIN, FROM DESIGNS BY FRANK MARRYAT.
PAGE
VACCARO AND INDIAN 67
QUILP 74
CAMPING OUT 95
THE THREE MARTYRS 101
THE SHOOTING BOX 103
ROWE’S LOT 208
A PROSPECTER 232
THE SONORA STAGE 259
THE UMBRELLA 282
OLD SOLDIER AND CHOCKTAW 283
THE LADY’S BOOT 292
THE CARPENTER JUDGE 328
FRENCH MINER 330
JOHN CHINAMAN 333
FEAST OF LANTERNS 335
THE MINER’S GRAVE 365
DRAWING STRAWS 367
MR. BOBBINS 411
[Illustration]
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
“Cherokees” 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 Hotel” would accommodate travellers with “forty beds.”
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,” 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,” judging from the prices he charged, and
that every eatable had been consumed long before my arrival. The “forty
beds” 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,” 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,” 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
“Cherokee” steamer. I had been questioned so much after this manner at
the “Washington” that I began to think that to belong to a state and to
arrive in the “Cherokee” 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 “Cherokee” 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
up” 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,” 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,” 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 “pockets” and
“great strikes,” 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 Gate” 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!