ADVENTURES BY FLOOD.
We started down the river on the 22nd of December. Our crew consisted of
Thomas D. Bonner, captain, Austin W. Pinney and myself. We carried down
two or three passengers. The river being very much swollen by the recent
heavy rains, we went down the river as far as Fremont the first day.
Fremont is a small town named for the “Pathfinder” and is situated on
the west bank of the Sacramento River at its junction with Feather
River.
We remained at Fremont until the morning of the 23rd, when we again
started and reached Sacramento City before night.
By the way of the crooked river it is about 150 miles from the Burch
ranch to the “cloth city,” as it was then called. Pinney was employed by
Mr. Burch as clerk to purchase the goods, and consequently I had very
little to do while at Sacramento. We remained at the city during Monday
and Tuesday. Pinney in the meantime made his purchases, and on Wednesday
we were prepared to start for Feather River with our cargo of stores and
provisions, liquors, etc.
Sacramento City at this time was built principally of cloth houses and
tents. However, there were a few very fair framed buildings and numerous
smaller shanties.
It was generally known as the “Rag City,” which was an appropriate name
indeed. Almost all the better class of buildings in the city were
occupied as gambling places, drinking saloons, or something equally as
bad.
Sacramento City is situated at the junction of the Sacramento and
American Rivers, and near Sutter’s old fort, on land originally granted
to Captain Sutter by the Mexican government. The location of the city is
low and subject to inundations at extreme high water. Large steam
vessels ply between this city and San Francisco. The fare is from thirty
to forty dollars.
Sacramento City is at the head of ship navigation on the Sacramento, but
small vessels can go above.
In the spring of 1849 this place began to be boomed as a city and now it
contains several thousand inhabitants, and is a smart business place.
Everything here is life and bustle, where fortunes are made in a day and
are lost as quickly. A large amount of sickness prevails at the present
time.
Dr. Haines and C. S. Fifield, who left us on Raft River, are both in the
city at the present time. Fifield has a paint shop and is doing a good
business. Dr. Haines has a small hospital for the sick and seems to be
doing a considerable business and says he is making money.
Mr. Woodbury, who was a member of the Granite State Company from New
Hampshire, is with Dr. Haines, and is very sick. He was taken with the
diarrhoea soon after he entered the valley and has since continually
been growing worse.
He knew me very readily when I entered his room, and taking me by the
hand, said with tears in his eyes, that he should never again see his
home or his friends. I tried in vain to cheer him, telling him that
there still was hope for his recovery, but it was all of no avail. He
said he should live but a few days, and his prediction proved too true.
Poor fellow! A wife and family in New Hampshire waited in vain for his
return home.
While in Sacramento I also saw a Mr. A. Webster, with whom I became
acquainted before I left Hudson. He was sick with the scurvy, and unable
to perform any labor. He was selling cakes on the levee. I thought that
his existence, too, would soon terminate, but I never after heard from
him. Probably he sleeps, with the many thousands of gold hunters, on the
banks of the Sacramento--the sleep that knows no waking.
Instances of a similar description are almost daily met with in
California. Men who left their homes and friends in the East to take
their chances in the mines, if possible, to gain a few paltry dollars in
the New Eldorado, are stricken by disease, and death soon ends their
earthly career. It seems truly hard to die in California among
strangers, with no friends near to sympathize and in some small degree,
alleviate the pains of their dying moments.
On Wednesday, December 26, we left Sacramento City and started on our
journey for Feather River. Our boat was loaded down with provisions,
liquors and other articles. Thomas D. Bonner was captain, A. W. Pinney
and myself constituted the crew, and we had two passengers aboard--a
North Carolinian by the name of Stedman, (who by the way agreed to work
his passage up the river), and a physician from Nova Scotia.
The North Carolina man seemed to be somewhat bigoted and wanted the best
accommodations the boat afforded, and while we were making our way up
the river he never offered to pull an oar or do anything to assist us in
the least, but always kept the best seat aboard the boat dry from
morning until night by sitting upon it steadily with an India rubber
blanket over him when it rained, which was a considerable part of the
time. This did not appeal to me as being the proper manner for him “to
work his passage” up the river, as the stream was high with a rapid
current. With a heavily loaded boat it was quite difficult for two men
to make any progress with their oars against the strong current. As
Captain Bonner failed to remind Mr. Stedman about his agreement to work
his passage up the river, I thought I would take the risk to jog his
memory in relation to it. The result was instantaneous and Mr. Stedman
and I had a falling out immediately. He was quite excited and seemed to
be on the point of explosion. I certainly anticipated an immediate
challenge from Mr. Stedman to meet him in deadly combat and settle the
matter Southern fashion. But for some unknown cause he suffered me to
continue to live. Had a challenge been forthcoming I cannot now say what
the outcome would have been.
The Sacramento was very high, almost at full banks, and having had a
head wind, we made very slow progress. At some points along the river
the banks were overflown and the valley for miles in extent back from
the river was one wide sheet of water, extending as far as the eye
could reach. The valley of the Sacramento is nearly level and extends
from the river to the Sierra Nevada mountains on the east, and to the
coast range on the west, and at some points it is fifty or sixty miles
wide.
Pinney and myself pulled the boat up the river against the wind and
current, Captain Bonner sitting in the stern and steering her, while Mr.
Stedman and the doctor made themselves as comfortable as was possible
under the circumstances.
We had three barrels of liquors, brandy and whiskey, aboard and soon
after we began to ascend the river, Captain Bonner, president of the New
Hampshire Temperance society, and late a noted temperance lecturer,
notwithstanding, tapped one of the whiskey barrels and commenced
drinking the contents. This movement on his part somewhat surprised me,
although I had began to learn not to be easily surprised at the acts of
men in California. But I had heard Captain Bonner say much in favor of
temperance and I supposed he would be among the last to taste of
whiskey.
At first he drank a little, and after a short time he took a little
more, and he continued to take a little quite often and said he could
not live in California without it. He said that he had once been a hard
drinker, and I was afraid that he was in great danger of falling into
his former evil practices.
He argued that it was impossible for him to live without it in
California. It had once saved his life, but that if he should return to
his home in the East, he would again be as strong an advocate of
temperance as formerly. How this proved I cannot say, but while I knew
him in California after I was with him on this trip, he appeared to be
one of the most confirmed hard drinking men that came within the circle
of my acquaintance.
To pull the heavily loaded boat against the current we found to be very
hard work and the progress was quite slow. We had made our way up the
Sacramento a considerable distance, when one day, owing to the head wind
being so very strong, we could make little or no headway; we were
compelled to tie up and remain nearly the whole day.
This was at a point where several choppers were at work cutting wood for
the Sacramento market. They were paid eight dollars per cord for cutting
it and were not required to split it. This I thought would be a good
job, and that if Mr. Pinney would hire another man in my place to help
pull the boat up the river, I would stay and cut wood for a while. I
promised Mr. Burch my wages for the time I had been on the trip,
thinking he could find no fault with that arrangement. Mr. Pinney
thought I was under obligation to him to help dig the ditch for Mr.
Burch and said that if I stopped here he should do the same.
I knew that such an arrangement would not be fair treatment to Mr.
Burch. Mr. Pinney had a settlement to make with him in regard to the
purchases made and the funds remaining in his hands. He also had
contracted to excavate about 120 rods of ditch. I had consented to dig a
part of it and would not refuse to do it without his full consent. Still
I thought he might release me. Under the circumstances I continued to go
up the river with the boat.
On the 5th day of January, 1850, we reached a point on the river about
twelve miles below Burch’s ranch, where we were met by Mr. Burch, who
concluded to go with us up the river in the boat. Our passengers left us
here and started on foot toward the mines.
After meeting Mr. Burch we proceeded toward our destination and on the
night of January 7th reached a point not more than one and one-half
miles below Burch’s. Two or three days previous we had fallen in with
another boat and party bound up the river, laden with provisions, owned
and manned by some men from the Pine Tree state. They were two brothers
by the name of Frye, Jack Percy, and a man working for them.
On the night of the 7th we all camped on the bank of the river almost
within sight of home--“Our California Home”--but on the opposite side of
the river. The night was dark and stormy and the rain descended in
torrents, with the wind blowing almost a gale from the south. After
several fruitless attempts we succeeded in starting a fire, by which we
cooked some pork and flapjacks.
On the morning of January 8th it still rained as hard as on the night
previous. We started on our journey as early as it became sufficiently
light to see how to arrange our camp fixtures properly. We did not even
remain to prepare any breakfast, but started with the expectation of
reaching Burch’s ranch before noon. We were not long in reaching the
foot of the rapids in company with the Maine boat.
We had aboard a long rope and we concluded it would be the better plan
for all hands to pull one boat up by the willow brush that grew along
the water’s edge a
[Illustration:
From an Old Drawing.
SACRAMENTO CITY IN 1850.]
rope’s length, and then draw the other boat up by means of the rope.
The river being high and there being a strong head wind blowing for us
to contend with, together with the fall in the stream at this place, we
found it to be a slow and very tedious process to pull a heavily loaded
boat up the river by the willows that skirted the shore. We would first
pull up one boat a rope’s length, and then draw the other boat after it,
and thus we labored incessantly until at length we succeeded in getting
both boats near the head of the rapids, when by some unfortunate mishap,
the boat got into the stream beyond the reach of the willows, and before
we could recover we were again at the foot of the rapids and the other
boat was also with us. To pull her up again was the hard labor of two or
three hours, but it seemed to be the only practical plan that we could
pursue.
Consequently, we all worked with a will and at length succeeded in
pulling her up the second time, arriving at a point a little higher up
the stream than we reached at the first time. We were pulling the other
boat up after us by the rope and holding our boat to the brush, when
suddenly the brush gave way and very soon both boats were again at the
foot of the rapids.
These repeated accidents and disappointments, considering all the
existing circumstances and conditions, were anything but comforting to
our empty stomachs and wet backs. It was now getting toward the end of
the day and we had tasted no food since the night previous.
The rain had descended in torrents all day and we were cold and wet, but
to pull the boat again to the head of the rapids before dark seemed to
be our only alternative. Could we succeed in getting our boat safely
over the rapids by daylight, we could soon reach our destination, and we
were anticipating a warm supper and dry lodgings in Burch’s tent.
Consequently, we once more, for the third time, worked our way by the
brush to the head of the long rapids, and just as it was becoming dark
we had succeeded in bringing both boats to the head of the rapids for
the third time. Just at that point of the river there was a short bend
in the stream so that we would get the benefit of a fair wind from that
point up. Pinney was in the bow of the boat holding to the brush,
Captain Bonner and Burch were near the stern arranging to get under
weigh, and I was hoisting the sail.
Mr. Burch said: “Be sure to hold fast this time, Pinney.” But for the
moment the latter seemed absent-minded and before I had the sail raised
he released his hold upon the brush and seized the foot of the mast to
enter it into its place. Instantly we were again beyond the reach of the
brush, and very quickly were again at the foot of the rapids! Our
companion boat continued up the river without trouble, so far as we
knew.
To work our way up again to the head of the rapids that night seemed to
be an impossibility. It had become extremely dark. The rain continued to
descend copiously, as it had done continuously for more than twenty-four
hours. The river was so full of snags that to make the attempt to cross
it in the dark was to hazard our lives.
We were on the opposite side from Mr. Burch’s ranch, and also on the
opposite side from another ranch owned and occupied by a Frenchman, John
Ruells. On the side where we were there were no habitations within
twelve or fifteen miles. After a consultation we came to the conclusion
that the best we could do, under the existing circumstances, was to land
and await until the next morning.
Accordingly, we pulled our boat as far into the willows as it were
possible, and I, being at the bow, chained the boat to a small tree. I
thought it was probable that considering the large quantity of rain that
had fallen the stream would continue to rise some during the night, and
to guard against accidents I chained the boat about three feet above the
water and gave it about twelve feet of spare chain.
The small willows were extremely dense, and in making an attempt to
reach the shore, I found the water at the bow of the boat was five feet
deep. As we had no dry matches and there was no possibility of procuring
any fire, we concluded our condition would probably be nearly or quite
as comfortable aboard the boat during the night, as it would be if we
could succeed in reaching the bank. Consequently, we concluded to remain
on board, though we had nothing cooked that we could eat and we were
cold and wet.
The rain was still descending and I believe that in all my life I never
laid down to a night’s lodging with so small a prospect of the enjoyment
of a moment’s comfortable rest and repose as on that night. The rain,
although it was from the south, was cold, and each one of us shivered so
badly that the boat fairly quivered from stem to stern!
I covered my head and after enduring the situation for some hours, fell
into a broken, dreamy slumber, from which I was suddenly awakened with
the cold water rushing over me. I jumped to my feet immediately and
simultaneously with the whole crew. But we had no sooner gained our feet
than the boat went under, sending us all with our load of freight into
the river! The boat immediately after came to the surface with its keel
upward.
The first thought that occurred to me was to immediately strike out and
swim to the shore, but my second thought was to get upon the bottom of
the boat and get, if possible, a survey of my situation.
Consequently I pulled myself up upon the upturned boat. At about that
time Mr. Burch cried out: “For God’s sake pull me up or I shall drown.”
I took him by the hand and drew him up. He said he could not swim a
single stroke. Captain Bonner, who had sometime been a sailor, attempted
to swim.
He wore his “sou-wester,” a canvas hat painted white. In the darkness I
could just trace the white hat as it slowly moved along the surface of
the water, but it soon disappeared from sight and then it reappeared. It
almost immediately disappeared the second time when I reached for one of
the oars that was within sight to try and reach him, if possible. Again
he came to the surface and climbed up a small tree that was standing in
the water near the upturned boat. He climbed as far up the tree as he
could, it being the top of a small willow. His feet were about four feet
above the surface of the water. No sooner had he gained his position on
the tree, than he said he came very near drowning.
To all appearance our position since we chained the boat to a tree the
night previous had been transformed. The rain had ceased to pour, clouds
were beginning to become broken, and the darkness was not so dense. We
could dimly discern on our side the waters of the river rushing swiftly
past, gurgling and whirling, carrying along with them large masses of
flood wood, intermixed with immense logs and whole trees, while on the
other hand we could discover small trees and brush rising above the
surface of the water, and still a little farther in the distance was a
large growth of cottonwood trees. The latter were probably some twelve
or fifteen rods distant to the east of our position. We could see no
land.
The question of what was the immediate cause of this severe accident
soon began to be discussed among the party. Mr. Burch made the inquiry
who it was that chained the boat. I answered that it was I who chained
it. He thought that it was not fastened sufficiently secure and that it
probably came unhooked, floated down the river and in some way became
capsized. The same opinion at first seemed to be entertained by the
majority of the party. However, I knew it had been faithfully secured
and that it was almost an impossibility for it to have become loosened.
It occurred to me that the boat was still chained to the willow tree as
we had left it when we had laid down, and that the river had risen to
such a height that the bow of the boat had been drawn beneath the
surface and it naturally capsized. This seemed almost an impossibility,
but it proved ultimately to be the true version of the cause of the
accident.
After I had considered the matter as to the safest and best course to
pursue, I concluded to stay by the wreck as long as it seemed possible,
and the entire crew seemed to be of the same mind.
We soon began crying for help at the top of our voices, but at the same
time we were without the slightest hope or expectation that anyone could
render us any assistance on that night.
First one would cry aloud for a few moments and then another would take
it up for a time, and thus it would go around through the whole list.
The day previous Captain Bonner had a two-quart jug aboard which he had
drawn nearly full of whiskey for his own private use, and when he
discovered the “little brown jug” resting against the tree beneath his
feet, he was very much pleased. He soon recovered it and after taking a
drink from it, passed it around. It was about one-half full when
recovered and it went around at intervals the remainder of the night.
We were compelled to sit in the cold water nearly to our waists, from
the time of the accident until daylight, and it was not anything like a
comfortable position. As near as we were able to judge, the boat upset
about one o’clock.
Occasionally we heard a voice in reply to ours, but no one came to our
assistance until it became daylight, when an Italian came in sight
around the bend in the river in a small zinc boat and took us ashore.
Captain Bonner had nearly perished.
Before we were rescued the water had reached to his waist, as he stood
upon the tree, and he could ascend no higher. Mr. Burch and Captain
Bonner both said that they never expected to see another day, and they
would have it no other way from the moment of the accident until the
rescue.
Mr. Burch stated and several times repeated it, that he would willingly
give all he possessed in the world to be set on shore. I made the reply
that I would pay fifty dollars to any one to put me ashore safely, but
that was the extent I would give.
After getting ashore I found my limbs so benumbed that it was with great
difficulty that I could walk a step.
About ten o’clock we partook of a little breakfast that had been
prepared for us, it being the first of anything we had eaten for upward
of forty hours. On an investigation a little later we found the river
had risen about twenty-five feet during the night, occasioned from the
heavy rains together with the melting of large bodies of snow in the
Sierra Nevada mountains.
After two days’ rest we all felt nearly or quite as well as if nothing
had befallen us, and strange as it may seem, not one of the party even
caught the slightest cold from all the exposure.
The night of the 8th of January, 1850, will probably be long remembered
by all of this little party of four men.
At that time the great freshet and overflow at Sacramento City was
experienced, which destroyed an enormous amount of property and caused
so great an amount of sickness, suffering and death--when it was said
the population of the city decreased about three-fourths in the space of
six weeks, owing to deaths from cholera, fevers and others diseases, and
from immigration to other places.