CHAPTER XII.

About seven weeks from the time of our arrival in San Francisco, we

found ourselves on board one of the river steamers bound to Marysville.

I parted with regret from Mrs. B----. We had lived, and laughed, and

suffered together _so_ long, it was hard to separate. We met once

afterwards, for she travelled many weary miles to visit me. Little

Nelly, too--how I loved that child! I can see her now, in imagination,

with her sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks, tugging along a handful of

burnt wood for “mother to cook with.” Those were hard days for Nelly and

Mrs. B----. Since then, Mr. B---- has amassed a splendid fortune. I

wonder if Nelly will ever forget those days in which she was sent out

gleaning sticks of wood and pieces of burnt boards, with which to make

the kettle boil.

The upper division of the bay of San Francisco is called the Suisun.

Situated upon the strait connecting the two divisions, is the town of

Benicia, on the north, and the pleasant little hamlet of Martinez, on

the south side. How sunny and pleasant looked the valleys bordering on

the bay! the luxuriant growth of wild oats therein affording excellent

pasturage for the numerous herds of wild cattle roaming over the

country. Soon we found ourselves entering the noble Sacramento. The

river, at intervals, is fringed with timber, chiefly oak, sycamore, and

willows. Grape-vines, and a variety of shrubbery, ornament its banks.

The quiet, peaceful stillness which pervades all nature, as you are

ascending this stream, has an ineffable charm, a sort of fascination, to

the beholder. The boat stopped a short time at Sacramento city. How very

low and flat the town appeared, in point of locality, compared with San

Francisco,--not a single hill to relieve the eye! It presented one

feature peculiar to all California towns at that day--a great deal of

canvas pre-eminently conspicuous, in the shape of buildings, with signs

attached, competing, in point of size, with the buildings which they

graced.

In some places the river is nearly half a mile in width. It makes some

very graceful bends. The land bordering on this magnificent stream is

very low, and subject to inundations, which is a serious impediment to

the advancement of agriculture, to which the soil is admirably adapted.

Three years afterwards, when sailing down this majestic stream, I

witnessed with delight many spots of this riverside wilderness, made to

“blossom as the rose” by the indomitable energy and unconquerable

enterprise, in opposition to every discouragement, of the successful

pioneers. I often wished, as some spot lovelier than another met the

eye, that it had been my lot to have found a home in just such a sunny

spot, far away from the noisy strife of the busy, bustling world. But I

must not tarry too long on thy bosom, noble Sacramento, but leave thy

allurements and beauties to be chronicled by some abler pen than mine,

and hasten up stream to the point where Feather River, one of the

largest tributaries of the Sacramento, unites her limpid waters with

those of her sister river.

With the name of Feather River the early Anglo-Californian associates

the commingled sentiments of many a pleasure and pain. The rich tributes

of gold which rewarded his toil could not compensate for the saddened

yearnings of the heart. All that he loved on earth were far away from

him; his condition was hazardous in the extreme; no friend, perhaps, was

near with a solace; and, but for the inspiriting unction of a constantly

indulged hope, even the _future_ would have been desolate and dreary.

The steamer turns her prow to the right, and is gracefully cutting her

way through the waters of Feather River. I kept constantly upon deck to

inhale the balmy air, and to look out upon the lively and ever-changing

landscape. Sometimes the trees would crowd the bank to the very brink;

some gracefully bending to kiss the water; some rearing their stately

heads high above, but stretching their wide arms over its margin; all

faithfully mirrored far down in its glassy depth, though sometimes the

reflections were partially obliterated, and sometimes, for a moment, the

_whole_ was shivered into trembling fragments by the transient breeze

that swept the surface too roughly, and the widely extended ripple from

the wake of the steamer.

There were on board several distinguished persons, who proposed a visit

to Capt. Sutter’s ranch. This delightful residence is situated on the

left bank of Feather River, as you are proceeding up stream. Visitors of

distinction are landed at the foot of his garden. The steamer runs in

close proximity to the bank fronting his dwelling. They usually give him

a salute after landing visitors. Sometimes an answering salute is given

from a mounted cannon standing in the centre of his garden. Near to it

is erected a tall flag-staff. The dwelling-house is constructed of adobe

brick, representing the Dutch style of architecture. It is completely

embowered with shrubbery, and creeping, flowering vines. A more definite

description of the grounds adjoining will be given hereafter, when I

shall have visited the place, and from personal observation endeavor to

interest the reader by delineating the beauties surrounding this lovely

retreat of the noble-hearted old general. Captain Sutter, or, rather,

General Sutter, as he is now titled, is a native of Switzerland, and was

at one time an officer in the French army.

He emigrated to the United States, and was naturalized. From thence,

after a series of romantic incidents, he located himself in California,

in the midst of numerous and hostile tribes of Indians. With a small

party of men, which he originally brought with him, he succeeded in

defending himself until he erected his fort. Several times, when

besieged by hostile foes, he has subsisted upon grass alone for many

days.

The land bordering upon Feather River is more elevated than that

bordering upon the Sacramento. Soon, far ahead, is discernible the

dividing line in the water, where the muddy waters of the Yuba River

mingle with the deep, blue, translucent current of Feather River.

The banks of the Yuba, at its junction with Feather River, are romantic

in the extreme. There is a thick growth of trees bestudding the banks,

and dipping gracefully into the stream; the branches of the taller

uniting overhead, and forming a leafy canopy, almost entirely excluding

the rays of the sun from the smoothly gliding current. The beautiful

weeping-willows fringing the margin, the creeping vines twining their

tendrils around the trunks of the trees, and the variety of shrubbery,

give it a decidedly tenebrious appearance, and keep the eye of the

traveller, who gazes from the deck of some one of the numerous steamers

plying the stream, constantly occupied in tracing the variety of

features which this and similar views are constantly presenting.

A short distance above the cove-shaped entrance to the Yuba River, and

at the head of steamboat navigation, is situated the town of Marysville.

At the time I first saw it, the sun was just gilding the tops of the

little canvas stores surrounding the plaza. This little square seemed

literally swarming with people, who had gathered around the landing.

Some had resorted thither from motives of idle curiosity, to gaze at the

people as they stepped ashore, hoping, perhaps, to recognize the form

and features of some friend from their far-off homes. Others were drawn

to the spot in the hope of acquiring accessions to their already

well-filled hotels. The draymen, too, were on the spot, ready to take

your baggage anywhere and everywhere. Their importunities were as

unceasing as those of our hackmen at city depots and steamboat wharfs.

Their style of conveyance was rather more primitive than comfortable.

However, I was seated upon my trunk on a dray, ready to be drawn to any

one of the first-class houses, which were enumerated as follows: the

United States, Oriental, Tremont, St. Charles, etc. My husband decided

that we should go the United States, and thither we were accordingly

taken.

I was perfectly delighted with the appearance of this little inland

city. Every little collection of canvas stores and dwellings in

California were denominated cities. Marysville, at that time, boasted of

several large frame buildings, among which were the above-mentioned

hotels. It was ranked the third city in regard to size and improvements

in Upper California.

It is useless to attempt to convey to the minds of any, except those who

were pioneers to California, the unique appearance of those little

bustling, business localities, in convenient proximity to mining

districts. Such trains of pack-mules as were constantly departing (so

heavily laden, I pitied the poor beasts from my heart) on their long and

tedious journeys to far-distant mining regions. There, too, is seen the

swarthy Mexican vaquero, mounted on his fleet Californian steed,

galloping through the street, “all booted and spurred;” and oh, what

spurs!--enough to make one cringe when they see them driven so

mercilessly into the reeking sides of the poor beast. Then the mule and

horse auctions at the corners of the streets, drawing together a

motley-looking set of fellows, rough and uncouth in appearance, but

possessing, nevertheless, noble hearts, ready hands, and, I have no

doubt, well-filled purses, with which to assist a fellow-sufferer. I

lived long enough in California to learn from experience never to judge

a person by his apparel. The coarsest garb often covered the warmest

hearts; the most sun-burned, heavily-bearded physiognomy often concealed

the most intellectual features; for all classes had flocked

indiscriminately to the gold regions of California.

On the night of our arrival, there was a travelling theatre to open for

the first time in Marysville; and a mounted horseman was galloping

through the streets, announcing, at the top of his voice, the programme

of the evening’s performance. After supper, being somewhat fatigued from

the journey up river, I retired, but not to sleep. Such a din and

confusion as was kept up in the street! A bowling alley and gambling

house on the opposite side of the way each contributed their share to

the babel-like confusion, that seemed to reign triumphant. Our room was

situated in the front part of the building, the only access to which was

from the balcony; and the only way of admitting any air into the room

was by leaving open the door, which served the double purpose of window

and door. Sometime in the night, we were aroused by some person moving

about the room. I was terribly frightened, thinking, of course, it was

some robber or assassin. My husband accosted the intruder with “Halloa!

what do you want here?” The reply was, “I am coming to bed! what

business have _you_ in my bed? Come, vamos!” and, in the mean time, he

was making preparations to strike a light. Said my husband, “There is a

lady here; _we_ occupy this room. Now leave instanter, or I will assist

you.” He started to the door, muttering, “I will see the landlord about

this; if there was not a lady here, I would see who the room belonged

to.” As soon as he left, my husband shut and locked the door, and we

were left unmolested, to smother until morning.

It seemed, upon inquiry, that our room had been previously occupied by

two brothers. Upon our arrival, the house being crowded, and one of the

brothers absent for a few days, the landlord had proposed to the

remaining one to resign his double bed for a single one, in order to

accommodate us. The absent brother returned late in the night, and the

bar-keeper, through negligence or ignorance, omitted to inform him of

the change; and thereby I was frightened half out of my wits at this

midnight intrusion.

Ladies were very scarce in Marysville; at this time there were not more

than half a dozen, at the most, who were deserving of the appellation.

Comparatively speaking, there were no children. I had lived there more

than a year before the merry voice of childhood gladdened my ears. There

were no churches, no school-houses. All were intent upon the one great

object that had lured them so far from their native land. There were

assembled representatives from every clime and country on the face of

the globe. The European, the Asiatic, the African, the Anglo-Saxon, the

Sandwich-Islander, all, whose general interests and pursuits were so

varied, had here convened for one and the same purpose--to get gold. No

law was acknowledged except Lynch law; and the penalty for offences, so

summarily enforced by the vigilance committees, served admirably to keep

in check the murderous, villanous propensities of too many of the

refugees from justice from all parts of the world. Alas! many of them

had found a shelter in the almost inaccessible fastnesses of the

mountains, remote from the regular settlements, and beyond the reach of

organized vigilance committees. In the solitary recesses of the Sierra

Nevada were little clusters of men, with nothing but the trees, and

perhaps a little canvas tent, for shelter, and _no_ protection but their

own strength and vigilance, possessed of large amounts of gold, where

there was no eye to see, and no agent to pursue, the guilty. It was not

strange, where the temptation was so great, that robbers and assassins

were ever ready to pounce upon the unwary.

Board at the United States Hotel at that time was four dollars per diem

for the single person; therefore, with our limited means, we could

remain here but a short time. The Tremont Hotel had been recently

erected, and I learned the proprietors would like to find an American

lady to superintend the domestic department. I presented myself, and

obtained the situation. I was to receive one hundred and twenty-five

dollars per month. In the interim, my husband was looking about,

undetermined what business to engage in. We stopped at the Tremont five

weeks, at the expiration of which time, my husband rented the Atlantic

Hotel, and thither we removed. This was in July. The heat was intense,

the thermometer ranging from 90 to 110 deg., not only day after day, but

week after week. How I watched in vain for a cloud in the horizon! but

not one appeared for months, to mitigate the scorching fervency of the

heat.

While stopping at the Tremont, I witnessed what to me was a novel sight;

and if, kind reader, you will pardon the digression, I will endeavor to

relate, in a manner which I hope will interest, the method of taming a

wild horse. The first I saw was an unusual collection of people, and in

their midst a horse blindfolded, with a Mexican vaquero in the act of

mounting. When once seated on the back of these wild, fleet animals of

the plains, it is next to an impossibility to unhorse them. From the

nature of their pursuits and amusements, they have brought horsemanship

to a degree of perfection challenging admiration, and exciting

astonishment. All things being in readiness, the blinder was removed.

The horse, for the first time in his life feeling the weight of man upon

his back, with distended nostrils, eyes glaring like orbs of fire, and

appearing to protrude from their sockets, gave a succession of fierce

snorts, performed sundry evolutions which would have puzzled the master

of a gymnasium to have imitated, and then dashed off at a furious rate,

seemingly determined to free himself from his captor, or die in the

attempt. It was an exciting and cruel sport to witness. The reeking

sides of the poor beast were covered with foam and blood, which had been

drawn by driving those merciless spurs into the flesh. Both horse and

rider would disappear for a few moments in some distant part of the

town, then reappear again, dashing madly on. Finally, the horse, in

passing the Tremont Hotel, which was all thrown open in front to admit

air, sprang, quick as a flash, upon the piazza, and dashed madly into

the bar-room. In making his ingress so suddenly, the Mexican’s head had

been forcibly struck against the top of the door, and he fell stunned to

the floor. The inmates of the bar-room, numbering about twenty, fled in

every direction. The bar-keeper, a very corpulent person, made his

egress through a small back window--_so_ small, that, upon ordinary

occasions, he would never have had the presumption to attempt it, as it

was actually endangering his life by so suddenly thrusting his portly

figure through so small an aperture; but now, out of two evils, he was

constrained to choose the least. The horse, finding himself in

undisputed possession of the room, stood for an instant surveying

himself in an extensive mirror suspended behind the long marble slab.

Then, prompted by an irresistible desire to become better acquainted

with the image reflected in the glass, or possessing the principles of

teetotalism to such an extent that he was bent upon immediate

annihilation, he dashed furiously at the bar, upsetting it, and dashing

the splendid mirror into a thousand pieces, demolishing the elegant

cut-glass decanters, while the contents ran profusely upon the floor. He

also dashed to pieces several large arm-chairs, valued at twelve dollars

apiece. Then he passed through a side-door into a large saloon,

traversed that without doing any material damage; and, when in the act

of leaving the house, the Mexican, who had, in the meantime, recovered

his senses and his feet also, sprang with surprising agility upon his

back, and the race for freedom again commenced; but this time not of

long duration. The horse, reduced almost to prostration, yielded to the

superior power of man, and was taken, more dead than alive, to a stable,

rubbed down, placed in a stall, fed, and petted; and, from the hour in

which he unwillingly relinquished a life of freedom, never more to roam

with a wild herd over broad plains and flowery vales, he was a gentle,

submissive slave. The wild horse is gracefully formed, with flowing tail

and mane; but I never saw one very fat--they race their flesh off. The

man who owned the horse readily paid the expenses of refitting the

bar-room. The amount of property he destroyed was at that time estimated

at a thousand dollars.

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