We left San Francisco in the latter part of the month of October, ran up

the river San Joaquin to Stockton in a stern-wheel steamboat, so crowded

with passengers that berths were entirely out of the question, and so we

were doomed to get through the night as best we could. And such a night!

It is my candid belief that for some unknown reason this particular

night lasted as long as thirteen others combined together, and that

during its continuance, I visited the infernal regions, upon the

pressing invitation of a legion of fiends, all wearing Chinamen’s hats

and long tails; moreover, I solemnly assert that almost every winged

insect and other creeping thing within a circuit of fifty leagues paid

their respects to us on board that miserable little steamboat. I have a

faint recollection of invoking the aid of all the saints in the calendar

for relief, but they would not hear me, and so I e’en concluded to

imitate great Cæsar’s example at the base of Pompey’s statue,--wrap my

head in my mantle, and thus resign myself to inexorable fate. As to my

friend, I had lost sight of him almost as soon as we entered the boat,

and it was no small gratification to think that remorse had caused him

to commit suicide, or some such thing. I trusted he had leaped overboard

from sheer compunction of conscience for having deluded me into this

scrape, and hoped by drowning himself to atone in some measure for his

atrocious conduct. Poor fellow! I forgave him, and mentally resolved to

get up something pathetic in the shape of an obituary notice, as thus:

Departed this life, on the evening of the 25th of October, 1853, by

water, one Shad Back, (real name supposed to be Shadrach Bachus,) aged

34, or there-away. The immediate cause of his death was remorse of

conscience for having decoyed an unsuspecting and virtuous youth on

board of a poor miserable craft crowded with passengers, without berths,

without seats, and swarming with vermin of every description, including

Chinamen. It is supposed that, in a moment of despair, produced by

witnessing the distress of his victim, he jumped into the river and was

drowned. His numerous friends cannot but bewail his untimely end,

although _some_ are of the opinion that it “sarved him right.”

_Requiescat in pace._

I thought I would add to this a verse or so from some suitable ditty,

but could hit upon nothing that would reach the case better than a

portion of Gray’s Elegy, beginning: “Here rests his head upon this lap

of earth,” &c. Now as I was not fully convinced that “his head _did_

rest upon this lap of earth,” I deemed it best to change the text

slightly to meet the melancholy occasion, and make it read thus:

_There_ rests beneath the briny wave,

A youth to linen and to soap unknown;

Fair science frowned, but failed to save

This blessed youth, who then went down.

I confess my inability to state distinctly what is meant by the last

line; it seemed to rhyme with “unknown,” and as I never had been guilty

of an attempt of this kind before, I thought it would do very well as a

first effort in the line of poetry. I may as well here explain also,

that as I intended to have the whole thing painted upon a good sized

shingle, and that nailed upon some tree near the sea shore, I thought it

would be a good idea to have the hand with an extended finger painted

conspicuously on the shingle, to serve as a pointer towards the ocean;

this would sufficiently explain the meaning of “_there rests_,” and

“_briny wave_.”

Notwithstanding the bodily torments I underwent during that livelong

night, with my head wrapped in a mantle and all the rest of my person

fairly given over to the tender mercies of thousands of mosquitos,

gnats, sand-flies, ants, ticks, fleas and bed-bugs, I really experienced

a strong sensation of relief upon reflecting how very handsomely I had

disposed of my friend’s earthly affairs. At the same time I thought it

quite possible that my good intentions towards his memory, coupled with

the fact of my sufferings, and the pains and penalties I had undergone

and was still enduring, would in a measure serve as a sort of atonement

for my own sins of omission and commission, beginning far back, at a

very early period of my life.

Morning dawned at last, and I was in the very act of gathering the

remainder of my person into an upright position, when I heard a voice,

proceeding from beneath an immense heap of Chinamen, Irishmen, and

niggers, calling me by name, and entreating my assistance to get him

upon his legs. I seemed to know the voice very well, but could not

recall to mind the owner. Deeming it, however, the duty of a good

Christian to help a distressed fellow-creature, I made my way through

the crowd to the spot whence the voice issued, and there, to my intense

grief and astonishment, I beheld my friend Shad upon his back, actively

engaged in repelling, with hands and feet, the united assaults of a

strong force, composed of three Irishmen and four Chinese fellows. I

became convinced, the moment I saw his position, that if he escaped

hanging for his misdemeanors in California, he would become a great

general, and an ornament to the military profession. I came to this

conclusion because, at the moment I saw him, he was preparing to repel

the enemy in a most masterly manner. The allies were _en potence_, and

had already attacked and dispersed Shad’s advanced guard, making

prisoners of his outlying pickets (his boots and hat) in a gallant

manner. Then with a determination to conquer or die, rushed upon the

main body. Here, after a most desperate struggle, during which many

great deeds of daring were exhibited, the enemy were repulsed with

immense loss. Much as I deprecate war in any shape, yet I could not

sufficiently admire the calm and collected appearance of Shad, even when

in the heat of the _melee_. One particular feat performed by one of

Shad’s feet, was observed by me with much astonishment, and it seemed to

strike an Irishman very forcibly too, as he honored the performance by

immediate prostration. The enemy had retired to a distance, and no doubt

held a council of war, and from the disposition of his forces shortly

after, I judged his intention was to make a demonstration upon Shad’s

front, and then attack him with his whole concentrated force in the

rear. My conjecture proved correct. I saw in a moment that this manœvre

must prove successful, unless Shad could strengthen his flanks, or form

himself into a hollow square. And here it soon became apparent how

profoundly my friend had studied the art of attack and defence. A pocket

edition of Vauban must have been his constant companion, or he never

could have assumed such a formidable appearance as that which he now

presented. Like an able general, he had divined the enemy’s intentions,

and to meet the emergency, had disposed his person in such a manner that

he could swing himself around like a teetotum while lying upon his back,

much the same as a long eighteen upon a pivot. In this position, or

rather with this rotary motion, Shad was invulnerable. He presented a

front in every direction, and utterly defeated the enemy’s most

strenuous efforts to capture him.

At this stage of the proceedings, I proposed mediating between the high

contending parties, which proposal being acceded to, I forthwith decided

the matter in difference, (of which I did not understand one word,) by

decreeing a forfeiture of Shad’s boots, the restoration of his hat, and

the payment by Shad for two gallons of _red-eye_, to regale the company.

This last decision was received with marked respect by all but my poor

friend. It was also decreed that the captured boots should belong

hereafter to the most _devout_ of the belligerents. Thereupon they were

deposited at the feet of a boy from the sod, who, since his prostration,

had been seated on deck, curved up in a manner quite curious to behold.

He resembled the capital letter G as much as any thing I could think of

at the time. Peace having been solemnly proclaimed, I had now an

opportunity of better observing my friend Back’s personal appearance. He

had never been very remarkable for great personal beauty at any period

of his life, and as the late battle had not left him wholly unscathed,

it would have proved a great hit indeed to an artist, if he could have

taken his likeness just then! When we came on board of this infernal

boat, Mr. Shad Back possessed a pair of bright blue eyes, which by some

uncommon process had been converted, during the night, into a pair (or

rather one and a half) of dismal black ones; his nose, always flat, was

now scarcely discernible at all--it had been absolutely beaten into his

face; lips as thick and black as those of a Loango negro, and without a

tooth in his head to save him from starvation. The fact is, my friend

Shad had received as severe a mauling as one man could well stagger

under; and although I pitied him truly and sincerely, yet I could not

help feeling a sort of disappointment at knowing he was not drowned or

dead in some way, and it _is_ a great disappointment to any one, after

making extensive preparations to mourn the fate of a man who he hopes

will commit suicide. After he has adjusted his face and his garments to

represent a decent amount of grief, and above all, after he has composed

his epitaph, including therein a scrap of touching poetry, to find that

he is not dead nor drowned after all, I say again, _is_ a

disappointment and a great shame.

But, supposing “all things are for the best,” I swallowed my chagrin and

a cup of (stewed mud) coffee together, resolving to write no man’s

epitaph until I had the sexton’s certificate, or officiated in person at

the crowner’s or coroner’s inquest.

We landed in Stockton a little before noon of the same day, and thence

took passage in a lumber wagon for Columbia, in or near which place the

mines were situated. Columbia is in Tuolumne county, near the base of

the Sierra Nevada, and contains about 2,000 inhabitants. Its mines are

said to be the richest in the State. As we had come here for the express

purpose of making a fortune without let or hindrance, and with as little

labor as possible, we went to work at once, digging and toiling like men

determined to become millionaires within a week at the farthest. In a

few days we had collected a large mass of dirt together, and only waited

for rain to afford us an opportunity of testing its value. But the rain

would not come. Every morning, for at least a month, Shad predicted rain

in torrents, and got drunk without delay, in order, as he said, to

celebrate an event of so much consequence to our future fortunes. Sure

enough, the rain did come at last. It continued to fall somewhat briskly

for about an hour, then it ceased for an hour or so. Again it fell for

another hour, and thus during the day we had rain and sunshine

alternating very systematically indeed, and quite encouragingly.

The amount of water that had fallen barely sufficed to wet the thirsty

earth, and it would therefore require just six such rainy days to give

us water sufficient to commence our washing operations. Mr. Back’s

extensive researches into the science of astronomy enabled him to

predict an astonishing amount of wet weather; at least such, he said,

was _prognoxicated_ by the _starring ferment_, that really the stars

were looking so very wet and uncomfortable, that he could not but pity

their condition, especially jolly old Aaron, with the belt. Shad had

drunk a more than ordinary quantity of liquor that day, in

commemoration, I suppose, of the beginning of the rainy season.

We were now well into the month of December. The rainy season usually

commences about the middle of November, and continues almost without

intermission until the latter part of February. The year previous it had

rained for three months without cessation; now we had no rain. December

passed away, and January had come, still the drought continued. Men and

animals drooped, the earth had become baked, not a shrub, not a leaf,

no, not even a blade of grass could be seen in any direction. A drier

season had never been known in that region. Shad had been sober for

several days upon compulsion entirely. He could get no more liquor, not

because the fiery draught was scarce, but for want of money to pay for

it. My own funds were out, gone to liquidate our daily expenses, so that

the prospect before us looked gloomy enough. I think, had it been our

good fortune to have water, we should have made a very handsome sum out

of our large heap of dirt. Without water, to separate the precious metal

from the dirt, we could do nothing. About the 20th of January it rained

nearly all the morning. “Hope told a flattering tale.” Alas for us poor

devils, the rain ceased at noon; this same half a day’s rain cost Shad

the only shirt he had for liquor. He said he felt morally certain the

rainy season had set in _now_, and that he would have a regular

jollification upon the strength of it, if it cost him his shirt, and it

_did_ cost him his shirt.

The season was now so far advanced that we could no longer hope for

continuous rain, if it came at all; so I resolved, though with

reluctance and after much deliberation, to abandon our _pile of gold_

and make the best of my way back to San Francisco. It was all well

enough that I should make a resolve of this description, but the

principal part of the affair would be to carry it into effect. The

_primum mobile_, the _sinews of war_, the _wherewith_ must first be

found before I could budge an inch. It was next to impossible to expect

aid or counsel from poor Shad. He, good, susceptible soul, had fallen a

willing victim to the artful blandishments of an ancient squaw, not so

much on account of her great personal attractions as in consequence of

her valuable possessions, which consisted of a dilapidated blanket and a

keg of whiskey. I was quite charmed with the appearance of the squaw,

she so strongly resembled a kangaroo; indeed it was quite a treat to see

the pair together, it being problematical which was the most hideous, or

the most beastly. I found it utterly useless to remonstrate with him; in

fact, he never was in a fitting condition to understand me: so I made up

my mind to leave him. Through the kindness of a friend, which was

afterwards reciprocated, I was enabled to pay the few debts I had

contracted, and to leave Columbia with a trifle of money, which, with

economy, enabled me to reach San Francisco in due time.

Thus terminated my last mining adventure in the gold regions of

California.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE.

The title of our chapter will bring up to the minds of all who visited

California, during its early days, some startling recollections. The

Vigilance Committee was the institution of that country, striking terror

into all evil doers. Like all energetic associations, it was capable of

being abused and sometimes ran into extremes, but its worst enemies

cannot deny that it was the only thing which could suppress crime at the

time it was in power.

Great mistakes are made in regard to this organization by most writers

who have spoken of it. They have committed the very common error of

judging of the institutions of one set of people by the standard of

another. They have applied to California the same rule which would guide

them in their judgment of an Atlantic State. In reality, however, there

is no parallel between the two. The latter is inhabited by a population

educated to regard the law as the paramount authority. The lawless are

in the minority among them. Years of good government have taught the

criminal to look upon the public authorities as his bitterest foes, and

the honest man to regard them as his friends and protectors.

In California, however, every thing was the reverse of this. No sooner

were her doors thrown open and her treasures disclosed, than people from

every quarter of the globe thronged to her shores. Men of industrious

habits and adventurous spirit went thither of course, as they always

hasten to every new field of enterprise. The crowd of newcomers,

however, was swelled by others of a far different character. Plunder was

of course to be had, and the swindlers and desperadoes, who live by

their wits, were quite as eager to visit the new country as were the

honest miners who had come to wrench fortune from the flinty bowels of

the earth by their brawny arms.

Villains from all parts of the world swarmed upon the new soil. Cunning

sharpers from New England, desperate vagabonds from Texas, bogus men

from the north-west, and reckless plunderers from the prairies hastened

to California like crows to a corn-field. Mexico sent thither her sly

robbers, Chili and Peru furnished their secret assassins. The penal

colonies of Great Britain vomited their refuse upon this unhappy land,

and even savage pirates from the Eastern Archipelago found their way to

El Dorado. The territory numbered among her inhabitants accomplished

thieves, burglars and cut-throats from every civilized and barbarous

country within reach, men who had been familiar with courts and jails,

and all punishments short of death.

It may readily be understood what a state of society existed there. The

laws of the United States were, by a figure of speech, said to be in

force over the new territory. Really, however, they were as impotent as

they are in a village of Blackfeet among the Rocky Mountains. The

officers of the law were utterly powerless. Rarely did they attempt to

assert their authority, and when they did make the effort, they signally

failed. The only law recognized there was that of the strongest. The

correct aim, the steady hand, the strong arm were the only protectors of

a Californian in those days. He might as well lean upon a wilted blade

of grass as upon the legal authorities.

This condition of affairs afforded a fine harvest to the amiable

gentlemen who had come hither to practice their professions. Robberies

and murders became every-day occurrences, of no more importance than an

assault and battery on election day. The most daring outrages were every

where committed with impunity. Unoffending men were shot down and

pillaged in broad daylight; shops were broken open; haciendas were

stormed;--in short, the country was in a state of siege, and the

blackguards were in the ascendent.

At this critical period, some of the settlers fortunately recollected a

similar state of affairs in the country between the Mississippi and the

Alleghanies, and the sharp but effective remedy which was then applied.

They remembered how organized bands of robbers had infested the states

and territories of the Mississippi Valley, how judges and constables and

sheriffs had been connected with these infamous associations, how

justice was perpetually defrauded of her dues, because juries composed

of members of the same villainous fraternity could easily be packed; and

how, finally, the honest portion of the community, exasperated beyond

endurance by these repeated villainies, took the law in their own hands,

and remorselessly hung and shot all the desperadoes who fell into their

power, with the ultimate effect of restoring peace and good order.

The same evil demanded the same remedy. The Vigilance Committee was

organized. It was composed of the best men in San Francisco, men who

would have been the most zealous supporters of the law, had there been

any law to support; men of firmness and resolution who were determined

to have peace and security at all hazards. It was not exactly a secret

society, but some sort of privacy was necessary to be observed. Were its

agents generally known, not only would they be marked out for the secret

vengeance of the vermin they were hunting down, but their vigilance

would be more easily evaded, and the operations of the committee

crippled.

The most important question which occurred to the committee, at its very

formation, was the disposition to be made of the criminals arrested by

its agents. They had no prisons at their command, and had no time to

devote to the tedious formalities of law proceedings. Ropes, however,

were at their disposal, and even California had trees enough to answer

their purposes, except San Francisco, where the pulleys upon hoisting

beams which projected from the warehouses afforded a very convenient

substitute. Their code, therefore, necessarily resembled Draco’s. For

graver crimes they hung their culprits, for minor offences they flogged

them, rode them on rails, tarred and feathered them, and ordered them

away from a settlement within a given time under penalty of sharper

punishment. Their threats were generally punctually executed. Their

principle was that of Mr. Carlyle--to get rid of rascality by

exterminating the rascals.

The results of the proceedings of this committee were beneficial in the

highest degree. Before its establishment, it was dangerous to walk the

streets of San Francisco in broad daylight; after it had been in

operation for a short time, that city became as safe as any upon the

other sea-board. They retained their authority until a State government

had been formed, its officers duly appointed, and its sovereignty

proclaimed; after which they laid it down. Whatever may be thought of

the organization, no one can accuse it of intentional injustice. Hasty

they may occasionally have been, but deliberately wrong, never. The best

tribute that could be paid to their honesty and efficiency was the

general apprehension of the people on the occasion of the charge just

alluded to. They dreaded the establishment of a government of law, and

generally preferred the irresponsible action of the committee. It is

also a well ascertained fact that California has never been so orderly

as it was under their rule. Immediately upon their resignation, the

rogues began to breathe more freely, and crime to increase.

We have already said that this committee has been harshly judged and

unjustly condemned by persons who were imperfectly or not at all

acquainted with the facts in the case. These very men, however,

recognize the necessity and acknowledge the benefits of the Holy Vehm.

They can see plainly enough that the robber barons “who spared not man

in their anger nor woman in their lust,” who were a curse and a nuisance

to all honest people, needed to be struck suddenly and without remedy by

some invisible hand, which they could neither escape by flight,

intimidate by threats, nor bribe with money. They cannot understand,

however, that the plebeian scoundrels of California required the same

sharp and summary punishments which were needed for the rascally

noblemen of the dreaded Red Land of Westphalia. It is very easy for

people who sit by their comfortable firesides and look out upon well-fed

policemen patrolling the streets, conspicuous by their glittering star,

to descant upon the beauties of law and order. The man, however, who has

just been knocked down and robbed in San Francisco by a vagabond who

cannot be brought to justice, has not so clear a perception of the

necessity of resorting to a tribunal which is powerless to punish, or of

appealing to a constable who is equally unable to protect him from

injury. These things have a relative, not an actual value; they are, or,

perhaps I ought to say, they were worthless in California. A cockney

traveler might as well take a London policeman to Sebastopol to prevent

the Cossacks from taking liberties with his sacred person.

The main thing every where to be attained is order, that honest men may

do their work in peace and quietness. If law gives them this, well and

good. Law must be supported. If law is powerless, then the rifle, or the

knife, or the rope must take its place. In so unsettled a state of

society, as that which existed in California at the time of which we are

speaking, the first thing is to strike terror into the ruffians. That

must be done, let the cost be what it may. After the power of the

honest man is established on a firm basis, then it is time enough to

organize courts of law.

The quiet and honest settlers of California were fully convinced of the

necessity of this committee, and zealously supported it. Indeed, the

committee rarely acted alone. Almost always the citizens were called in,

and had as much to say as the members of this self-constituted tribunal

upon the case in hand. They only took the initiative; they saw that the

scoundrels did not escape; the public did the rest.

As for the thieves, robbers and rascals of every grade, they entertained

a wholesome terror of this energetic organization. When one of them

received his orders to quit a certain place, he did not dare to disobey.

He knew that unless he did what he was commanded, his punishment was

inevitable. The committee was as inexorable as destiny itself.

I have no time to go into the examination of the arguments advanced

against such an institution as this. A glance at one or two must

suffice. It has been said that the committee was irresponsible, and that

it is highly dangerous to entrust the power of life and death to

irresponsible hands. In truth, however, the committee was not

irresponsible. It sprang from the people, and though not formally

elected by them, was nevertheless tacitly acknowledged. All its power

resulted from the fact that it was a genuine exponent of public opinion,

a faithful executor of the public will. The moment it failed fairly to

represent the people, that moment its days were numbered. The members of

the committee knew perfectly well that the same fate which they decreed

to the culprits who fell into their hands, awaited them, should they

ever become dangerous to the people.

Again, they have been accused of haste and cruelty in their operations.

We have already said something on this head. Perhaps, however, it may be

well to speak more directly to this charge. The necessity of punishment

must be granted. There is no other mode of preserving order. Now, it

must be remembered that California was then really in a state of

anarchy, though nominally under the government of the United States.

Every body did that which was right in his own eyes, or rather what his

inclination prompted him to attempt. The consequence was, as we have

already said, that murders and robberies were every-day occurrences.

Life and property were wholly unprotected. In this state of affairs the

vigilance committee took the matter up, and determined to regulate

affairs. What were they to do with a criminal once caught? To take bail

for him, and let him run till a certain course of regular formalities

could be gone through with? That would have been an extremely judicious

proceeding. The escaped scoundrel would have committed further

depredations, and, in all probability, the most conspicuous of the

committee would have fallen victims to his vengeance. It was necessary,

therefore, to try him at once, or else let him go scot-free. The trial

over, and conviction obtained, the sentence, whatever it might be,

required to be immediately executed, because they had no place of

safe-keeping for him. If exile was decreed, he was forthwith drummed out

of the settlement; if he was to be hung, the rope was immediately

provided. There was no help for it; unless justice were summary, it was

null.

As for the charge of cruelty, it must be acknowledged that the code of

the vigilance committee was severe. They hung for many offences which,

in the Eastern States, can only deprive a man of his liberty. This also

was a matter of necessity. Such severity was requisite to strike terror

into the lawless vagabonds who infested the newly settled country.

Besides, it was doing no more than was done in civilized, refined,

enlightened England less than fifty years ago. Indeed, the vigilance

committee were more merciful than the authorities of that realm, who

hung a rogue for stealing a hat. It was only when a robbery was attended

with circumstances of peculiar atrocity that they resorted to this

extreme punishment.

Allowance must also be made for the state of feeling among the people in

regard to capital punishment. It did not inflict such a shock upon them

as it does on the inhabitants of an old, regularly governed country.

Life was held very cheap there; it was taken upon the slightest

provocation. Every man went armed, and weapons were resorted to at the

commencement of a fray. The dry goods man, who measured out calico

behind his counter, waited on his customers with a pair of revolvers

stuck in his belt. The customers, wild, savage looking men, leaned upon

their rifles or played with their bowie-knives while making their

bargain. The purchase completed, the buyer threw down his leathern bag

of gold dust, the seller weighed out the proper quantity and returned

the rest. Should a dispute arise, few words were interchanged; arms were

immediately appealed to, and the question was speedily settled. It is

but fair, however, to say that, during these early days, the regular

traders had but few difficulties with the miners, arising from attempts

to defraud. Clearly, such a state of society cannot be judged by the

same rule which applies to a settled and orderly community. A scene

which I witnessed at Sacramento will probably give my readers a better

idea of the mode of proceeding adopted by the vigilance committee, than

any lengthened description of mere generalities.

A man who had recently returned from the mines, and was on his way to

his home on the Atlantic coast, arrived in Sacramento one morning, and

put up at the Orleans hotel. He had been quite successful in his labors,

and brought in a goodly quantity of gold dust, a portion of which only

he had deposited; the rest he carried about his person for current

expenses. Elated with his good fortune, he could not refrain from

boasting of his skill and judgment, and the excellent results he had

obtained. He exhibited sundry little leather bags, and picked out

nuggets remarkable for size or for oddity of form, which he exhibited

freely to all the inmates of the house. He had one irregular mass of

gold, which, to his fancy, resembled a race-horse. Another jagged,

shapeless lump, he conceived to be a perfect likeness of Mr. Polk, whom

he greatly admired, and this he declared his intention of having made

into a breast-pin. He talked largely of the great things he would do

with his money when he reached home, and, in the excess of his

liberality, “treated the crowd” to innumerable cock-tails and smashes.

Two men, who were unknown to the people of the hotel, seemed

particularly interested in the history of his exploits, and professed to

have acquired a high regard for him personally, during their brief

acquaintance. They swore he was a trump, that such a good fellow

deserved to make money, and professed to rejoice in his success as

greatly as though it had been their own. They too, they said, had just

come in from the mines, where they had made a few ounces, though nothing

like what our friend had secured. They were so exhilarated by his good

fortune that they vowed they would return and try their luck again. They

had come down with the intention of going home, but they did not like to

be beaten by any one, so they would just “knock around” the city a

little, have some fun, and go back to the mines the next day. Our friend

was “such a devilish good fellow,” that they were proud to have made his

acquaintance, and would enjoy their frolic ten-fold if they could only

prevail upon him to accompany them.

Their proposition was accepted. Success and “red-eye” had rendered him

more than usually confiding, and the three strolled away, amid the

laughter of the crowd, reeling, hiccoughing, and swearing eternal

friendship. They rambled off to a back street, engaged in the same

interesting conversation. Suddenly one of the companions of our hero

disengaged himself from his arm, slipped behind him, and with a billet

gave him a tremendous blow upon the head, which knocked him bleeding

upon the pavement. He was stunned only for a moment, and the blow seemed

to have sobered him. He began to struggle, when his other newly found

friend joined in the assault. The two together belabored him severely

over the head till he lay senseless and motionless upon the pavement.

Thinking they had quieted him for ever, they proceeded to rifle his

pockets, and soon stripped him of every thing valuable he had about his

person. They then made off with their booty.

Strange as it may sound to my reader, this outrage was perpetrated about

three o’clock on a summer afternoon. Some persons in the neighborhood

witnessed the whole affair, and immediately gave the alarm. The

vigilance committee, ever on the alert, were soon in pursuit, and the

scoundrels were captured a short distance from the outskirts of the

city. The news spread with great rapidity, and soon a large crowd had

collected. When I reached the scene of action, the members of the

committee were escorting the culprits to a little grove of stunted oaks

which stood upon the outskirts of the town. There was an expression of

calm determination on the faces of the committee, of angry excitement on

those of the rest of the crowd. Furious cries of “hang them!” burst from

the mob, but did not seem to excite or ruffle the chief actors in this

terrible drama, who went about their duties with great system and

deliberation. As for the criminals themselves, a more villainous pair of

faces it was never my fortune to look upon. Low brows, heavy features,

and cold steel-gray eyes, gave them the expression with which

Cruikshanks has pictured Sykes in his illustrations of Oliver Twist.

They were Australian convicts, brutal wretches, whose hands were red

with blood.

A jury was immediately empanneled by order of the committee, one of whom

acted as judge. “Fellow-citizens,” said he, “these men have been accused

of perpetrating an atrocious crime within the limits of this city. We

are now ready to give them a fair trial. Those gentlemen who witnessed

the outrage will now come forward and give in their testimony!”

The culprits were made to confront the jury, guarded by members of the

Vigilance Committee. Several citizens came forward and stated what they

had seen, and others from the hotel identified the prisoners as the men

who went off with the unlucky miner. They also recognized the bags and

the nuggets which were taken from them as the same which had been

exhibited at the hotel. As for the wounded man, he was too badly hurt to

testify.

The case was fairly made out against them, the jury gave in their

verdict, and the judge formally inquired what the convicts had to say

why sentence should not be pronounced upon them. They muttered out a few

unintelligible words, when with a clear loud voice, he said: “Prisoners,

you have been found guilty of a murderous assault and robbery. You have

had a fair trial, and the sentence of this court is that you he

forthwith hung by the neck till you are dead! One hour will be granted

for such religious exercises as you may desire. If there is any one

present who is disposed to render these men any religious service, he is

requested to come forward.”

A man, who represented himself as a Methodist preacher, now advanced to

the miserable men, said a few words to them in a low tone of voice, and

then knelt down to pray beside them. During this part of the ceremony,

the crowd stood silently by, and many took off their hats.

Presently the preacher rose and mingled with the crowd. A man advanced

to the culprits and carefully pinioned their arms with a strong rope. At

this stage of the proceedings, they seemed to be fully aroused to a

sense of their danger. They looked around and seemed to scrutinize every

face in the whole assembled multitude. Never shall I forget that mute,

appealing gaze. It was useless; not a face in the whole crowd wore an

aspect of mercy; but again arose the angry shout: “Hang them! hang

them!” The judge now called out, “Gentlemen! the hour is up!” whereupon

they were led to a tree and swung off. A few struggles and all was over.

The crowd quietly dispersed; the excitement subsided, and an hour

afterwards no one would have suspected that any thing unusual had

happened.

Such proceedings as these--the absolute and inevitable certainty of

punishment--produced order throughout the State. Indeed, it was the

Vigilance Committee alone that ever has enforced obedience to law. The

State’s Attorney of San Francisco states that in four years _twelve

hundred murders had been perpetrated, and only one of the criminals was

convicted_. What wonder if some people still sigh for the days of the

Vigilance Committee?

CHAPTER XVIII.

BODEGA.

Once more in San Francisco, I made preparations to return to the

Atlantic States as rapidly as my health and dilapidated means would

permit. Before leaving this pseudo Eldorado for ever and aye, I had a

wish to see a celebrated grazing district, famed for its vast herds of

horned cattle and wild horses; and so, having hired at an enormous price

a sorry looking mule, like the knight of La Mancha mounted upon

Rosinante, I sallied forth from San Francisco in search of new

adventures. I took the high road along the bay towards Bodega, a small

town situated upon the Pacific coast, 60 miles north-east from San

Francisco. I had hardly cleared the suburbs of the city, when my mule

began to exhibit qualities very far from respectable; as, for example,

he would stop suddenly, hold down his head, plant his fore feet firmly,

and reflect, I suppose, upon the proper moment to pitch me over his

head. He had a very uncomfortable way too of throwing up his head, and

more than once just grazed my nose; then he was so playful! jerking the

bridle suddenly and casting his head round so as almost to reach my leg

with his teeth. And, moreover, I judged him to be partial to botanical

studies, from the fact of his taking every opportunity of pushing his

way through the scrub bushes that lined the road, as if he thought the

occasion favorable to scrape me off his back. I have never been very

famous for my skill in equitation, nor have I ever been too anxious to

intrust myself to the care and safe-keeping of other legs than my own,

and I must acknowledge that when I discovered the little pleasing

eccentricities already enumerated, I thought it would be most prudent to

return; and would have done so, only that the devilish brute would not

consent to take the back track; by which I mean that, when I attempted

to turn his head homeward, he commenced such a series of circumgyratory

evolutions that I remained long in doubt as to which of my limbs would

remain unbroken when I _did_ come to the ground, a catastrophe by no

means far distant if he continued to spin around five minutes longer. I

clung to the pummel of the Spanish saddle, however, with the gripe of a

maniac, shouting wo! with an unction and vigor that I am sure

contributed as much as any thing else towards stopping the incarnate

devil in his mad career. Any person, to have seen my involuntary

performances on this trying occasion, would most assuredly have

pronounced me the best circus rider in the known world. I am favorably

known at home as an even tempered, nay, as a good tempered person; but I

verily believe I lost my temper here on this spot, not that I remember

to have ever been profane, but I am sure I consigned the wretch to the

safe-keeping of a nameless personage, with a particular request

regarding the future disposition of his eyes and limbs. As I could do

nothing better, I let him have his own way, and for the next hour or so

we got along very well together, and I really began to think well of his

muleship; when suddenly, and as if by magic, I found myself upon my back

in the road, and the precious villain prancing and curveting within

fifty feet of where I lay, as if in the very act of rejoicing that he

had thrown me there. I had received a slight bruise upon one of my

shoulders by the fall, a matter not deserving much attention, and was

considering the best method of catching the atrocious robber, as he very

deliberately walked up to me, and adjusted his position so that I could

mount him again with ease, which I did without delay. Shortly after, we

reached a Chinese encampment--all men, or at least I supposed so. They

looked exactly alike in face and in dress. Two or three were assembled

around a fire, the rest were gambling; those by the fire were engaged in

cooking rats in an expeditious manner. I should think there might have

been about a bushel of these animals altogether, and they were laid

with their skins on, from time to time, upon a bed of hot embers to

broil; it was a very primitive way of replenishing the larder! However,

I did not dine with the celestials; I had an indistinct idea at the

moment that the moon’s relatives were exceedingly respectable, only

something the filthiest. Without much further trouble or delay we

arrived, towards midnight, at Bodega. My mule behaved like a trump

during the latter part of the journey, but only after frolicking for

about three quarters of an hour up and down a small stream upon our

road, which his excellency insisted upon surveying, even from its source

to its mouth.

Bodega contains not more than four hundred inhabitants, including

“Digger” Indians, “niggers” and dogs, the last by far the most useful

and most decent of the concern. The people of the town told me that the

place was first settled by the Russians, but no vestiges remain of the

original settlers to denote who or what they were. A very worthy man is

the sole proprietor of the town now--he is an American; some years since

resided in Valparaiso, where he married several bags of doubloons, a

large lot of cattle, some fine horses, and a Chilian lady; removed to

California and became the possessor of the town of Bodega, and a very

large portion of the surrounding country. For my part, I could see

nothing very seductive in Bodega, nothing that could keep me there a

week. The country is almost destitute of timber, with here and there a

woody knoll. The surface of the land is rolling, soil good, and well

adapted for farming purposes. In fact, it is said to be the best grazing

section in the State of California. Dense fogs prevail throughout the

summer months; from these the earth receives a sufficient quantity of

moisture to answer all the purposes of rain. An abundant crop of grass

is produced, upon which vast herds of cattle and droves of horses are

raised. The horned cattle are slaughtered in immense numbers, merely for

their horns, hides and tallow.

Twelve miles south-east of Bodega is the little village of Petaluma,

situated upon the margin of an extensive swamp or morass, through which

a small stream winds its way to the bay of San Francisco. This morass is

entirely overflowed during the winter. In the summer it becomes

perfectly dry, and cracks open in every imaginable direction to the

depth of twelve or fifteen feet, the crevices varying from one to eight

inches in width. At an early period the Indians captured entire herds of

horned cattle in the summer by driving them into this morass. If an

animal attempts to cross this fissured spot he must assuredly break his

legs. It is no uncommon occurrence daily to find three or four wild

horses, and as many more horned cattle, vainly struggling to extricate

their fractured limbs from the clefts and crevices in this death-dealing

Golgotha. In this situation they are quickly dispatched by the Indians

and others living in the vicinity, stripped of their hides, and the

carcasses left for the birds of prey. Owing to certain preservative

properties in the atmosphere, animal matter does not undergo

decomposition in this region with the same degree of rapidity that it

does in other sections of the Atlantic States in the same parallels of

latitude, and it is not unusual to see the carcasses of slain animals

upon this very morass, a month or more after they have fallen, in a good

state of preservation, and without emitting, in any great degree, an

offensive odor.

Upon my return to Bodega, I witnessed the punishment of an Indian boy

for theft. This was the case: The boy had stolen a trifling sum from the

house of an American, and being shortly after detected with the money in

his possession, he was sentenced to expiate his offence in a very novel

manner; and here I might with great propriety use the language of Lord

Byron, the scene reminded me so strongly of the main incidents of his

Mazeppa. A wild horse that had been caught with the lasso only the day

before, was brought out, and the boy’s person in an upright position

securely strapped to his back. The boy thus bound, the horse was then

freed from restraint by the men that held him, and with a cut from a

whip, he bounded away with the speed and swiftness of an arrow shot from

a bow. The race, however, was of short duration. He had scarcely

accomplished the third of a mile, when he suddenly threw himself, and

with frantic efforts endeavored to roll over and over, in order to rid

himself of his burden. In these struggles, one of the boy’s legs was

literally crushed into a bloody mass. The violent exertions of the

animal had so far exhausted his strength, that he was unable to rise. In

this condition, we had time to come up and liberate the boy from his

bonds, but not until the poor creature had ceased to breathe. He was

quite dead, and another murder was to be added to the long list of

California crimes. Horror-sticken and distressed at the scene of

ruthless barbarity I had just witnessed, I made my way out of the

village of Bodega, wondering if the good God would permit such an

unparalleled atrocity to pass unpunished.

In returning, I took the road through the valleys of Sonoma and Napa to

Benicia: feeling fatigued and somewhat indisposed upon reaching the city

of Benicia, I determined to rest there a day or two. Benicia contains

about 1500 inhabitants, is 40 miles north-east from San Francisco,

situated upon a branch of the Sacramento river. The city is regularly

laid out on a gentle slope, rising from the water’s edge to the hills

in the rear. Benicia is a port of entry, contains an arsenal, a

navy-yard, and extensive docks for repairing and refitting steamers.

Ships of the largest class can come up to the wharves. It has been

proposed to establish the seat of government of the State here. It must

be by no means understood that I had traveled thus far upon my return

without trouble from the antics and extravagances of my mule, being

somewhat upon my guard, I more than once foiled him in his design of

getting me off his back. I have seen vicious animals in my time, but

never saw any thing to equal the cunning and malice of this one. It

seemed as if he had been taught every thing that was bad, and being

naturally vicious, had become by long practice more than a match for

man. Desirous of examining more closely a singularly formed elevation

some fifteen miles from Benicia, known as Monte Diabolo, I set out the

third morning after my sojourn in Benicia to visit this famous mountain.

Mounted upon my rascally mule, I had unfortunately suffered myself to be

persuaded to wear a pair of Spanish spurs, having been assured that the

fractious conduct of the mule heretofore was entirely owing to my not

providing myself with these persuaders at the commencement of my

journey. I had ridden barely the half of a mile, when the accursed

animal was seized with a fiend-like desire to break my neck and his own

too. With this commendable purpose in view, he began by taking short

leaps forward, backward and sideways, varied every now and then by an

effort to throw me over his head, by casting his hind legs high into the

air, or in endeavoring to force me off by standing almost upright, and

pawing the air with his fore feet. I maintained my seat with difficulty

during these fiendish gambols, and plied him with the spurs. This

settled the matter at once, for no sooner did I plunge the sharp rowels

into his infernal sides, than he stood for a moment, as if to gather

strength for a more mighty effort; then, dropping his head, he suddenly

threw out his hind feet with such violence as to eject me from his back

with an impetus that I am astonished did not crush every bone in my

body, and kill me outright. As it was, my left leg only was broken. The

mule, demon as he was, seemed to exult in his misdeeds, and to be well

content with the (to him) triumphant termination of the contest; at

least I judged so, from his sounding the trumpet of victory long and

loud; he brayed incessantly for an hour. My leg was broken just above

the ankle, and whenever I moved gave me exquisite pain. What to do I did

not know; I could not move. I was somewhat comforted, however, by

reflecting that I should not lie in this helpless condition long. I was

on the highway, and some traveler must pass soon. I shouted with all

the voice I had left; pain and agony had weakened me so much, that I

feared death would ensue before my situation could be known. At length I

attempted to drag myself upon my hands and knees towards Benicia, then

less than a mile distant. In the effort, the agony I endured caused me

to faint. I know not how long I lay in this death-like condition. When I

again returned to consciousness, I found myself in bed, with my broken

limb confined between splints, after having been properly set by a

surgeon. Many weary days and nights were passed upon a bed of sickness.

I received every attention from the kind people into whose hands I had

fallen. These good Samaritans had found me insensible by the wayside, my

mule standing within ten feet of me, very gravely contemplating his

handiwork, afterwards suffering himself to be led back to Benicia,

without making the slightest demonstration of discontent. As soon as my

new friends discovered the cause of my accident, it was proposed to

shoot the mule forthwith. To this summary disposition of the malignant

brute I objected, not from any desire to save his worthless carcass, but

from a wish to return him to his more worthless owner in San Francisco,

whom I had some hope the animal would cripple for life upon some future

day. I therefore requested my friends to have him returned to his owner

by the first opportunity that offered.

My most constant attendant was an old negro named Ben. A better nurse I

could not have had than this same old fellow. As he was quite an

original, I will describe him. Ben was about four feet six inches in

height, very thin and very black; his grandfather must have been a

chimpanzee--I feel quite sure of that, because his features were

precisely those of an ancient baboon; his age might be about fifty or

fifty-five, and at an earlier day he may have had a nose, I doubt it,

though; at any rate he had none when I saw him. No! not a bit. It had

disappeared altogether. The wool grew within an inch of his eye-brows,

and he had but one eye. Ordinarily and for economy’s sake, Ben was very

simply attired in canvas pantaloons and the remnant of a red woolen

shirt--disdaining hat and shoes, except upon great occasions and State

celebrations; then, indeed, Ben shone conspicuous in all the glory of an

immensely high bell-crowned white hat, with a narrow rim and a broad

green ribbon to match, a tall, stiff shirt collar that reached his ears,

a military stock, tightly buckled around his neck, which effectually

prevented the wearer from looking downward, a whitish looking something

that had been worn for at least seven years as an overcoat by a tall,

stout man, now served Ben in the capacity of a dress coat; to be sure

he had “curtailed its fair proportions” by cutting off one and a half

feet of the skirts, six inches of the sleeves and a good large piece of

the collar. It was a nice garment. A pair of breeches so tight that he

slept in them upon occasions when he had used much exercise, for the

simple reason that he could not get them off without greatly endangering

their respectable appearance; boots large and somewhat dilapidated, of

course the legs of the tights could not be drawn over the boots,

therefore they were tucked inside. But the crowning glory of the entire

outer man was a broad, shining, black leather belt, drawn so tightly

around his waist, that he breathed at times short and sharp.

To Ben’s many other great talents must be added his very great

proficiency in music. He performed very spiritedly indeed upon the bass

drum, and when necessary, could do the jingling upon the triangle. But

his forte was the fife, and it was a pleasing sight to see him upon a

gala day, rigged as described, lugging a huge drum buckled to his breast

bone, thrashing away with both hands as if his life depended upon the

amount of confusion he created. Suddenly he would cease, and drawing the

fife from the depths of his breeches pocket, would favor the procession

or company with an air from “Norma,” or from somewhere else. Heroic Ben!

can I ever forget the day when, attired in all his bravery, tall hat,

big coat, old boots, bright belt, long drum, short fife and all, he

hobbled past the house wherein I lay, followed by all the boys, girls

and dogs in the place? It was some saint’s day, and the Mexicans had

hired Ben as chief musician to aid with such music as he had on hand in

doing proper honor to his saintship; and he did it, too, much to the

admiration of every one within hearing. No! I shall never forget that

day; I think the sight hastened the recovery of my health and strength.

At the end of five weeks, the doctor told me I could travel without

danger to my leg, provided I was careful; accordingly I took passage on

board of the steamer New World for San Francisco, and, with Ben as my

body-guard, reached that city late in the evening of the same day

without any further accident. I immediately put myself under the care of

an able physician, and in a very short time experienced no inconvenience

from my now perfect leg. As to Ben, he would not leave me, and in fact

he made himself so necessary to my comfort that I was quite loth to part

with him. He was a good servant, a good nurse, and honest as far as

circumstances would permit; but he would get liquor to drink some how;

no matter in what shape it came, Ben must have liquor; buy, beg, borrow

or steal, have it he would. I have known him to drink the doctor’s

prescriptions, in consequence of their having a small quantity of brandy

in them; but for this failing I think I should have brought him back

with me to the Atlantic States; as it was, I parted from him only upon

the day that I sailed for home.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE DIGGER INDIANS AND NEGROES.

Of all the aborigines that are known to travelers within the limits of

the western continent, the Digger Indians are certainly the most filthy

and abominable. A worse set of vagabonds cannot be found bearing the

human form. They come into the world and go from it to as little purpose

as other carnivorous animals. Their chief characteristics are indolence

and gluttony. Partially wrapped in filthy rags, with their persons

unwashed, hair uncombed and swarming with vermin, they may be seen

loitering about the kitchens and slaughter-houses awaiting with eager

gaze to seize upon and devour like hungry wolves such offal or garbage

as may be thrown to them from time to time. Grasshoppers, snails and

wasps are favorite delicacies with them, and they have a peculiar relish

for a certain little animal, which the Bible tells us greatly afflicted

the Egyptians in the days of Pharaoh. The male Digger never hunts--he is

too lazy for this; he usually depends upon the exertions of his squaw to

provide something or other to satisfy the cravings of hunger.

The term Digger has been applied to these Indians in consequence of

their method of procuring their food. The grasshopper or cricket of

California is one of their favorite messes. They capture these insects

by first digging a pit in the ground, and then forming a wide circle

round it which is gradually narrowed. In this manner they drive the

insects to the pit and there capture them. After having secured their

prey, the next thing is to prepare it for food. This is accomplished

either by baking the grasshoppers in the fire or drying them in the sun,

after which the Diggers pulverize them. The epicures among them crush

service-berries into a jam and thoroughly incorporate the pulverized

insects with the pulpy mass to which they have reduced the fruit. Others

mix their cricket meal with parched sunflower seed, but this is an

advance in civilization and in the luxuries of the table, which is made

by very few of them. They obtain the young wasps by burning the grass,

which exposes the nests and enables them to grub in the earth for this

delicacy.

Acorns are also a favorite article of diet with these wretched

creatures. In California, this fruit is larger and more palatable than

with us, and it has the merit of being a cleaner kind of food than that

which usually satisfies the Digger’s hunger. Rude as these people are,

they have sense enough to observe that all years are not equally

productive in these nuts, and foresight sufficient to lay in a good

stock during the plentiful years. They pound them up, mix them with wild

fruit, and make their meal into a sort of bread. They are said to resort

to a stratagem to obtain the acorns in greater abundance. There is a

bird in California, called, from his habits, the carpenteir or

carpenter. He busies himself in making holes in the redwood trees and

filling them with acorns. When a Digger finds a tree stocked in this

manner, he kindles a fire at its base, (so the story goes,) and keeps it

up till the tree falls, when he helps himself to the acorns.

Grass-seed constitutes another portion of their diet, and this is

gathered by the women, who use for the purpose, two baskets, one shaped

like a shield, the other deep and provided with a handle. With the

shield the top of the grass is brushed and the seed shaken down into the

deep basket. This also is made into bread.

It is commonly supposed that these Indians belong to a single tribe.

This, however, I think is doubtful. They are scattered over a wide

extent of country, being found far to the north, among the Utahs. Those

upon the frontier usually call themselves Shoshonees or Snakes, while

some claim to be Utahs. Their skin is nearly as dark as that of the

negro. Indeed they greatly resemble the African in color and general

appearance. They are distinguished from him chiefly by their aquiline

noses, their long hair and their well-shaped feet. The southern Diggers

have a lighter complexion, being not so dark as a mulatto.

It is reported on good authority that Captain Sutter, the first settler

on the Sacramento, at whose fort (the present site of Sacramento) gold

was first discovered, employed these people to build his fort for him.

He paid them in tin coin of his own invention, upon which was stamped

the number of days the holder had worked. This was taken at his “store”

for articles of merchandise, such as dry goods, &c. He fed his field

Indians upon the offal of slaughtered animals and the bran sifted from

ground wheat. The latter was boiled in large iron kettles; and then

placed in wooden troughs from which they scooped it out with their

hands. They are said to have eaten it, poor as it was, with great

relish, and it was no doubt more palatable and wholesome than their

customary diet.

These Indians are inveterate gamblers, and when they have been so

fortunate as to obtain clothing, they are almost sure to gamble it away

before they stop. Their game is carried on as follows. A number sit

cross-legged on the ground in a circle, and they are then divided into

two parties, each of which has two head players. A ball is passed

rapidly from hand to hand along the whole of one party, while the other

attempts to guess in what hand it is. If successful, it counts one for

the guessing party towards the game. If unsuccessful, it counts one in

favor of the opposite party. The count is kept with sticks. All the

while this is going on, they grunt in chorus, swinging their bodies to

keep time with their grunts. The articles staked are placed in the

centre of the ring. When they once get excited in play, they never stop

so long as they have any thing to stake. After getting through with

their money, their trinkets and their provisions, they stake their

clothes and keep on gambling till they reduce themselves to the costume

of Adam.

The fate of these poor creatures is involved in no uncertainty. They

must melt away before the white man like snow before a spring sun. They

are too indolent to work, too cowardly to fight. When pinched by the

severity of hunger, and unable to procure their customary filthy diet,

they are driven to the settlements, where they steal if they can, and do

a little labor if they must. No sooner, however, have they procured the

means of satisfying their immediate wants, than they abandon the

employment offered them and relapse into their customary indolent

habits. Of course, it can only be while labor is in such great demand as

it now is, that they can secure even this temporary employment. When

hands become abundant in that country, the laboring white man, the

Chinese or the negro will monopolize all the work. The Indian then will

be confined to thieving for a livelihood, and that is something which

the Californians will not permit. Some of these miserable people have

been cruelly butchered by the whites for indulging their propensity to

make free with other people’s property. They cannot fight for their

plunder, and consequently they must suffer as patiently as they can

whatever penalty is inflicted. If the fierce warlike tribes of the north

could not oppose the march of civilization, how easily will these poor

weak children of the south be crushed under its advancing wheels!

In Marysville, passing by one of the slaughter-houses, I saw a

collection of about twenty of these wretches waiting for the offal. They

were in the habit of presenting themselves regularly every morning at

the same place and at the same hour to gather the refuse of the

slaughtering establishment. The proprietors rather encouraged these

visiters than otherwise, for the same reason that the turkey-buzzard’s

visits are so acceptable to the denizens of most of our southern

cities--they serve the purpose of scavengers so admirably. On this

particular occasion, however, one of the proprietors seemed not so well

satisfied, from the fact of his having detected one or two of these

“Diggers” in the very act of stealing some choice pieces of beef. A

stalwart Tennesseean and his son were the proprietors. The father was a

very stout man, and more than a match for fifty of these poor miserable

devils; fond of whiskey, an inveterate swearer, and withal, when

excited, as was then the case, dangerous. As soon as the theft was

discovered the eldest Tennesseean seized a meat-axe, and with a

tremendous oath threatened to immolate the entire tribe, or, to use his

own quaint but profane language, to “populate hell three deep with the

damned thieving Digger Indians in less than no time.” This was said to

his son, a good natured young man who was using his best endeavors to

prevent his father from putting his terrible threat into execution.

Happily for the Indians, they had sufficient time to get out of reach of

the enraged man, and make good their escape with the stolen meat. The

butcher’s scheme for populating the infernal regions was to my mind

quite original, to say the least of it, and notwithstanding the impiety

of the thing, I could not refrain from laughing. It afterwards became a

matter of grave consideration how he would accomplish an undertaking of

this description, without first having recourse to some actual

measurement, the better to determine the amount of feet and inches

required for each separate body. I think he must have been something of

a surveyor, and had already measured the area contained within the

dominions of the evil one; how else could he name the precise depth of

“Diggers” he intended to furnish? Our worthy butcher, it must be

conceded, understood geometry, as “three deep” distinctly implies

length, breadth and thickness. The only true difficulty in the whole

thing was the specified period of its performance. I understand what is

meant by “no time” very well, but cannot say I am so confident as to the

meaning and intent of the phrase “in less than no time.” I dare say

though some very short period of time is intended, and if time and

opportunity serves, upon some future day I will make the inquiry of the

Tennesseean or his son (I should prefer the latter) what it really

means.

There are comparatively few negroes in this new State. Most of those who

are found here have emigrated from the northern and eastern States in

the capacity of cooks and stewards of vessels. They are in the same

situation as their brethren in New York and Massachusetts, slaves to no

single individual but to the entire community. Like free negroes every

where else, they inhabit the worst parts of the towns in California, and

live commonly in characteristic filth and degradation.

There are a few blacks from the South, and these have been brought out

here as slaves. It is true that on their arrival here they have the

power of claiming their freedom; but such is their attachment to their

masters that this is rarely done. Instances have occurred in which they

have been enticed away by meddling abolitionists, but, disgusted with a

freedom which was of no value to them, they have been eager to return

again to their masters. Several cases of this kind have come under my

own observation.

I was personally acquainted with a New Orleans sea-captain and

ship-owner, who had a very likely negro man named Joe. This slave had

acted as his special servant for many years, and had made two or three

voyages with him between Shanghai and San Francisco. His conduct was

entirely unobjectionable, and his duties were always promptly and

efficiently discharged. Indeed, the captain informed me that, though he

had reared Joe, he never had occasion to whip him for any offence.

Others had observed the admirable traits of the negro, and several

persons had attempted to buy him, offering extraordinary prices; but his

master, having the highest appreciation of his qualities and a strong

personal attachment for him, positively refused to part with him on any

terms. At last, however, Joe deserted the vessel. An abolitionist had

persuaded him to leave his master; and a short while thereafter he

married a Mexican woman--a sort of half-breed--and went off to the

mines, near Campo Seco. But he found his freedom unprofitable and

troublesome. While in his legitimate station he had always had an easy

time, plenty of food and an abundance of clothing. He had also

accumulated two or three hundred dollars, which had been given him by

his master, and others, for extra services. Not long after his marriage

with the Mexican woman, his money disappeared. He became penniless,

ragged, dejected, and, as a last resort, determined to return to San

Francisco, beg his master’s pardon, and, if possible, reinstate himself

in the favor of one who had always been his friend. He did return,

presented himself as a suppliant before his master, told him that he had

been persuaded to leave, that he was sorry for having done so, and now

wished to enter his service again, promising unwavering faithfulness in

the future. The master regarded him with a steady gaze until he had

finished his story, and then, in a distinct and dispassionate tone, said

to him: “You had no cause for leaving me; I had always treated you well.

Now you may go; I don’t want you any longer.” At the conclusion of these

words, the negro dropped in despair at his master’s feet, and wept like

a child. Moved by the sincerity of the negro’s repentance, and having

duly considered the extenuating circumstances of the case, the master

overlooked his estrangement, set him to work and never had the least

difficulty with him afterwards. Of his Dulcina, whom it seems he had

married in a Laguna dance-house, I know nothing, except the information

I gained from Joe himself, that she left him as soon as his money was

gone.

One more instance, and I have done with the negroes. A gentleman and

three of his slaves, from the western part of North Carolina, had been

mining about two years, near Quartzburg, in Mariposa county. Their

efforts having been crowned with success, the master concluded to return

home, and speaking to his slaves of his intention, he told them that

they were at liberty to remain in California, where their freedom would

not be disturbed, and where they would be entitled to the entire

proceeds of their labor. To this they replied that the abolitionists had

told them that long before, and after detailing several attempts to

decoy them from their owner, and signifying their unwillingness to

remain in California, they concluded by requesting their master to take

them with him. He consented, paid their passage, and they all returned

home in the same vessel.

The applicability of slave labor to the soil of Southern California is

now becoming a theme of discussion in that region, and it is probable

that the experiment will one day be tried. Indeed, the propriety of

dividing the State into Northern and Southern California has already

occupied the attention of the legislature; and while it is generally

admitted that the people are about equally divided upon the measure, it

is universally conceded that, in case of its adoption, the southern

portion will establish the laws and institutions of Virginia and

Louisiana.

CHAPTER XX.

ARE YOU GOING TO CALIFORNIA?

In the preceding chapters it has been my purpose to impart such

information as would lead my reader to a correct knowledge of the

present condition of things in California, and to aid him in deciding

whether he will emigrate to that country, or content himself in the

Atlantic States. I have endeavored (in a very brief and feeble manner,

it is true) to purge the films from his eyes, that he might see the

country in its true light. I have told him of the distorted and

exaggerated stories which have been circulated concerning it; of its

barren soil, and unfavorable seasons; of the seeming incompleteness of

nature, and the paucity of resources of employment therein; of its

scanty productions, and dependence upon importations for all kinds of

provisions and merchandise; of the expensiveness of living, and the

extraordinary obstacles which lie in the way of prosecuting business

with success; of the unprecedented number of mishaps and accidents, and

the losses and perils to be apprehended from fire and water; of the lack

of scenery, and the disagreeable consequences of the weather; of the

inefficiency of the laws, and the anarchical state of society; of the

breaches of faith between man and wife--of the almost utter disregard of

the marriage relation, and the unexampled debauchery and lewdness of the

community; of the contrariety of opinions which prevail, and the

continual disputes and disturbances which arise in consequence of the

heterogeneousness of the population; of the servile employments to which

learned and professional men have to resort for the means of

subsistence, and the thousands of penniless vagabonds who wander about

in misery and dejection; of the dissipated and desperate habits of the

people, and the astounding number of suicides and murders; of the

incessant brawls and tumults, and the popularity of dueling; of the

arbitrary doings of mobs, and the supremacy of lynch-law; of the general

practice of carrying deadly weapons, and the contempt that is shown for

human life; of the great difficulty of securing reliable titles to

landed property, and the fatal rencounters with the squatters; of the

bacchanalian riots by day, and the saturnalian revels at night; of the

perfidy and delinquency of public functionaries, and the impossibility

of electing an honest man to office; of the sophistication of

provisions, and the filthy fare in hotels and restaurants; of the

untrustworthy character of business men, and the frauds and stratagems

practiced in almost every transaction; of the contemning of religious

sentiments, and the desecration of the Sabbath; of the incendiaries in

the cities, and the banditti in the mountains; of the alarming depravity

of the adolescent generation--of the abominable dissoluteness of many of

the women--the infamous vices of the men, and the flagitious crimes

against nature. I have spoken freely of all these things; and now what

else shall I say? Is it necessary that I should defile still more paper

with these detestable truths? Can any one be still in a state of

indecision about going to California? I am aware that the public mind

has been somewhat undecided upon this subject, and I have essayed to

give it the proper turn, or restore it to its accustomed equilibrium. I

have spread before my reader a combination of facts, and have related

events which occurred under my own observation. There are scores of

other topics which might be brought in to give strength to my general

argument; but I dislike to tax the patience of the reader with such a

prolonged catalogue of unwholesome realities.

It was my intention to dwell somewhat at length upon a variety of

subjects of interest, but the space which I assigned to myself is

already nearly filled up, so that I find I shall be compelled to abandon

this design and bring these desultory remarks to a close. It would,

however, be a neglect for which I would not readily excuse myself, were

I to pass over the subject of the Pacific Railroad without note or

comment. It is agitating the public mind too deeply, and it is too

intimately connected not only with the prosperity of our Pacific coast,

but also with that of the whole nation, to be lightly regarded; and as

some point in California must be its terminus, if common sense is to

guide us in selecting its course, a work on that country must

necessarily take it into account.

The necessity of this important national highway is too strongly

impressed upon the minds of the thinking people of this nation, to be

easily lost sight of. Some erroneous opinions, however, are entertained

in regard to the objects of the road by many who warmly advocate it. It

is supposed by a few that California is to contribute some wonderful

benefits to it, and some few even go so far as to suppose that she can

support it. This is very absurd, as the previous chapters have, we hope,

clearly explained.

California certainly will contribute something to the support of this

great enterprise, but cannot, by any means, constitute the chief

inducement to its construction. Her gold will of course come more

rapidly, readily and safely across the continent than around Cape Horn.

In this respect, the saving to the consignees on the Atlantic coast will

be very great, and will be represented by three items: saving of time,

saving in the interest of money, and saving in consequence of the

diminution of the risks of transportation. A glance at our table of

casualties by sea, in a former chapter, will show how great the last

named saving promises to be. That on the interest of money will also be

great. It requires about three weeks to send from California by the

shortest existing route to New Orleans, while, by the railroad, that

city will be but a few days’ distant from San Francisco or San Diego.

Allowing a week to be occupied in the trip, the saving in this item will

amount to a half a month, and as a million is often brought in a single

cargo, this is no trifle. At six per cent. per annum, it would amount to

twenty-five hundred dollars on each shipment. The item of time will be

sufficiently appreciated by the mercantile reader without comment from

us.

These, however, are not the only benefits which the road may expect to

derive directly from California. Much of the British commerce, which now

finds its way to that distant region by the long routes, will go thither

by the more direct and expeditious way of the new road. A way commerce

will also inevitably spring up and there will be a cordon of settlements

and towns stretching across a wilderness which years of ordinary

immigration would be required to fill up. Branch roads would also soon

start from the main trunk to various important regions along the route.

The Santa Fe trade and the commerce of the prairies generally would soon

seek this as its natural channel. The emigration to California would

also largely benefit the road. This is likely to be large for some time

to come, and the return tide would also contribute to increase the

pecuniary revenue of this great national enterprise.

To California it would be of the greatest service, and the enlargement

of the resources of that State would of course increase those of the

improvement which causes the beneficial change. The country would then

be settled from the east as well as from the west, and the gold of the

Sierra Nevada would speedily be brought into market.

These advantages, considerable as they are, really form but a very small

portion of the inducements to the construction of this important work.

The great and important revenues of the road will come from far beyond

the limits of the State. The enormous commerce of Eastern Asia and its

Archipelago, which has enriched every nation that ever secured it, will

then flow over our country leaving its golden sands behind it. China

will send its teas, Amboyna its spices, Java its tin, Japan its copper,

through our dominions. No commercial manœuvring, no diplomatic juggles

can divert this mighty trade from its natural course. There is a

destiny in commerce, as well as in other things, and fate seems

determined to pour the riches of the world into our lap. If, in former

times, the slow caravans which conveyed the treasures of the east to

western ports, left wealth behind them, wherever their footprints were

seen, though vexed by Tartar and by Arab plunderers, how much more

benefit is likely to be derived from a rapid and safe transit through a

civilized nation, ready, eager and able to add their quota to the stream

of wealth?

We must not forget, also, that this eastern commerce is greater and more

important than it ever was. Our efforts have unsealed Japan, and before

long we shall be reaping the fruits of our enterprise in that quarter.

Australia, too, is now ready to add her gold to a commerce already

immensely valuable. China must open her doors still wider, for the world

will knock loudly at them. Nor is this all. The whole trade of the

western coast of South America must change its course. A Pacific capital

is destined to absorb it. The whaling fleets of the Pacific will not

have the stormy passage around Cape Horn to dread, but another New

Bedford will look greasily upon the western ocean. The fur trade also

will change its course. Oregon will furnish it with a port of departure,

California with a permit of entry. Siberia itself may divide its trade

between San Francisco and St. Petersburg. We seem to be on the point of

taking the position which China has always claimed, and of becoming the

true centre of the world, at least so far as commerce is concerned.

I believe it is now generally admitted that the Southern route is the

most practicable--that it is the most level, the most fertile, the best

watered, the best timbered, and that the climate through which it runs

is the only one that is favorable at all seasons of the year. I have

conversed with several gentlemen who passed over the various routes on

their way to California, and they informed me that the mountainous parts

of the northern routes are usually blocked up during the winter with

immense drifts of snow, which lie upon the ground to the depth of from

forty to fifty feet--sometimes much deeper. Those who traveled over the

northern routes also complained of the scarcity of wood, water and

provisions, and represented the Indians as being very hostile and

treacherous; while, in most cases, those who traveled over the southern

route experienced no hindrance, difficulty or impediment whatever,

having had pleasure, peace and plenty all the way. But besides the

advantages of climate, surface, soil, wood and water, there are other

considerations which weigh in favor of the southern route. The distance

is much shorter, and the population is more friendly, civilized and

thrifty. It will bring us on more intimate terms with the Mexicans, and

they will be induced to purchase larger quantities of our manufactured

and imported merchandise.

Every southern man should feel a lively interest in this gigantic

scheme, and enlist all his energies in aid of its completion. It affords

one of the finest opportunities that the South has ever enjoyed for

establishing her commercial independence, for counterbalancing the

increasing commercial power of the North. In connection with this

subject, I may here present an extract from a letter which I had the

honor to receive, not long since, from one of the most sagacious and

far-sighted patriots of the South. Speaking of the great Atlantic and

Pacific Railway, among other things, he says: “North Carolina should not

be an indifferent spectator of this noble enterprise. The port of

Beaufort, unrivaled for health, possesses a depth of water sufficient

for all convenient purposes; while the placid bosom of its

well-protected harbor, justly entitles it to be styled the Pacific port

of the Atlantic coast. Pursue its degree of latitude westward across the

continent and the Pacific ocean, and you will find that degree passing

near Memphis, Little Rock, Fulton, El Paso, and San Diego to Shanghai,

the last two being the nearest ports of the two continents, in so low a

latitude. Railways are chartered from Beaufort westward, and are

constructed, or in progress of construction, that will reach perhaps one

third or half way across the continent. May we not then hope, ere long,

to see them uniting the two oceans?”

Experienced navigators have said that, in consequence of the favorable

course of the tradewinds, the voyage can be accomplished between San

Diego and Shanghai in about eight days’ less time than it can be between

San Francisco and Shanghai; and this is certainly a very strong argument

in favor of running the road directly to San Diego--leaving San

Francisco to the right.

Since the above was written, the following abstract of the “Report of

the Secretary of War on the several Pacific Railroad Explorations” has

been published; and as it more than substantiates the correctness of my

remarks, and imbodies a great deal of valuable information concerning

the various routes, I hope the reader will peruse it with due care and

attention. I here transcribe it, with brief comments, from the columns

of the _Herald_:

PACIFIC RAILROAD EXPLORATIONS.

The “Report of the Secretary of War on the several Pacific Railroad

Explorations” is before us. It is an interesting and instructive

document, embracing a careful review of the capabilities and drawbacks

of the following routes, from the actual surveys:

FIRST--The extreme northern route, (Major Stevens’,) between the 47th

and 49th parallels of latitude, starting from St. Paul in Minnesota

territory, and striking the Pacific at Puget’s Sound, or the mouth of

the Columbia, in Oregon. This will require a road, allowing for ascent

and descent, of 2,207 miles. Estimated cost, $130,871,000. The

impediments in this route are the mountains to be tunneled, the numerous

rivers to be bridged, the scarcity of timber, the coldness of the

climate, and its proximity to the British possessions.

SECOND--Route of the forty-first parallel, (Mormon route,) commencing on

the navigable waters of the Missouri, or on the Platte river, and

striking thence over the Plains to the South Pass, thence to the Great

Salt Lake, thence across the Great Basin to the Sierra Nevada chain,

thence over that chain, and down to the Sacramento river, and down the

same to Benicia, just above San Francisco, on the same harbor. Estimated

distance from Council Bluffs to Benicia, 2,031 miles; estimated cost,

$116,095,000. Obstructions same as in the first route, including wider

deserts and deeper and rougher mountain gorges.

THIRD--Route of the thirty-eighth parallel, more familiarly known as

Benton’s great Central route, pronounced utterly impracticable from its

mountain obstructions. Estimated length from Westport to San Francisco,

2,080 miles. The topographical engineers gave up all estimates of the

cost of a road by this route, in absolute despair.

FOURTH--Route of the thirty-fifth parallel--(Senator Rusk’s

route)--beginning at Fort Smith, in Arkansas, thence westward to

Albuquerque on the Upper Rio Grande, thence across the Rocky Mountains

and the Colorado of the West and great desert basin and its mountains,

and the lower end of the Sierra Nevada chain to San Pedro, at the

southern extremity of California, on the Pacific. This route is about as

bad as Benton’s, although the engineers think that 3,137 equated miles

and $169,210,265 might, perhaps, do the work.

FIFTH--Route near the thirty-second parallel, or the extreme southern

route, via Texas, New Mexico, El Paso and the Gila to the Pacific.

Estimated distance from Fulton in Arkansas, to San Pedro on the Pacific,

1,618 miles--equated length, allowing for ascents and descents, 2,239

miles. Estimated cost, $68,970,000.

The advantages of this route are, that it is practically a third shorter

than any of the others between the Mississippi and the Pacific--that it

goes by the flank of the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada chain,

instead of going over or under them--that the route is over a region of

elevated table lands requiring little or no grading--and that the soil

is dry and free from snow from one end to the other, except occasional

light falls in New Mexico.

RECAPITULATION.

Distance of Ascents and Length of Comparative

ROUTES. Routes. Descents. Level Routes. Cost.

_Miles._ _Feet._ _Miles._

Extreme northern 1,864 18,100 2,207 $130,781,000

Mormon 2,032 29,120 2,583 116,095,000

Benton’s 2,080 49,986 3,125 [A]----

Albuquerque 1,892 48,812 2,816 169,210,265

Extreme southern 1,618 32,784 2,239 68,970,000

[A] The cost by this route is so great that the road is impracticable.

SUMMIT OF HIGHEST PASS.

_Feet._

Extreme Northern route } { 6,044

Tunnel at elevation of,} { 5,219

Northern route. 8,373

Benton’s route, } {10,032

Tunnel at elevation of,} { 9,540

Albuquerque route 7,472

Extreme Southern route 5,717

These are the results of careful scientific explorations, by highly

accomplished engineers, of the several routes, from the extreme Northern

to the extreme Southern route; and it is only necessary to consult one

of the latest maps of the United States to see at a glance that the only

really available route is that of the extreme South, via El Paso and the

Gadsden country. The estimated cost of a railroad (single track, we

suppose) by this route is, in round numbers, $69,000,000, about half the

estimate of the best of the other routes, to say nothing further of the

saving of a thousand miles or so in the important matter of the distance

to be traversed.

We consider this report conclusive as to the best route for a Pacific

Railroad--it is the extreme Southern route. A glance on any respectable

map of the United States, at the several routes indicated, will satisfy

the reader of this fact. The engineers of the army have only made it

more clear and satisfactory from their actual surveys.

* * * * *

But I must return again to my theme--California! I will now lay before

the reader a few extracts from letters which I have recently received

from friends in the Pacific State, and it will be seen how fully they

corroborate my own statement.

An editorial friend, writing to me from San Francisco, says:--“Business

all over California remains in the same stagnant condition, and every

sign prognosticates a time of hardship and suffering. A crisis, in my

opinion, is approaching, which will drag down nine-tenths of the

business houses in the country. Money gets more stringent every day, and

every body seems to be at a loss to know what to do. I must confess I

see nothing promising in the future. It is truly a dark day for

California.”

Another correspondent says--“There have been an unusual number of

murders, suicides, duels and squatter riots within the last fortnight.

Heaven only knows what is to become of our people. The devil seems to

have them all by the nose, and there is no telling where his

double-tailed majesty means to lead them.” In another letter, this same

correspondent goes on to say--“I have no encouraging news to send you by

this mail. Our markets continue distressingly dull. A great many

failures have taken place, and others are anticipated. Indeed, these are

trying times with the mercantile portion of our community. Every things

wears a dull and unpromising aspect. Hundreds of mechanics and laborers,

many of whom are in a deplorably destitute condition, are sauntering

about the streets, having nothing to do, and being unable to find

employment. And as a consequence of this unprosperous state of things,

we have to contend with many cases of despair and desperation. Within

the last week, four suicides, three murders, numerous robberies and

other crimes have been committed in our city; and the accounts from the

up-country towns, and from the interior of the State, convince us that

there is less respect paid to the moral and civil laws in those places,

than there is in this. It is known that there are now two large bands of

highwaymen prowling about the country; and our cities are filled with

secret organizations for rapacity and plunder.”

Again, another correspondent says--“Every avenue to business is blocked

up with a crowd waiting for an opportunity. Scores of men of almost

every trade and profession are seeking employment amongst us; but there

is no demand for their services. You have no idea of the number of young

men who are getting themselves into a bad pickle by coming to this

country. California is indeed a mammoth lottery, and the credulous world

has been very impatient to secure tickets in it, refusing to believe the

fact that there are ninety-nine blanks to every prize. Two earthquakes

and several fires have occurred since I wrote to you from Sacramento.

The earthquakes were very slight, and but little damage resulted from

them; but the losses by fire have been immense. Enormous sums of foreign

capital are continually passing between the Atlantic States and our

city, in search of profitable investment.”

The following interesting letter, just received, I give in full:--

WEAVERVILLE, Cal., May 7th, 1855.

My Dear Friend,--I owe you an _amende_ for the “long and silent

lapse” that has lately occurred in our correspondence--or rather in

that part of it which emanates from me. A simple statement of the

fact that I have been constantly on the move for the past four

months is the best apology I have to offer in extenuation of my

fault.

Let us retrospect a little. I wrote you frequently from Humboldt

Bay, in answer to favors--my last letter having been written the

day previous to my leaving that place. As I then intimated, the

next day found me on my way to the mines; and the journey, rough as

it was, during the most inclement season of the year, and reaching

to a distance of one hundred and fifty miles, I performed _on

foot_! You have a pretty good idea of the mountains of this

country, and can realize the amount of fatigue and hardship

attendant upon such a trip as mine. Scarcely twenty-four hours

passed that it did not either rain, hail or snow, while we had not

even a tent to shelter us. Yet, with all this, I improved daily in

health and strength--weighing now ten pounds heavier than at any

time previous.

What is to be the result, pecuniarily, of this trip, is yet to be

answered. I have a mining claim, which, with all my industry and

economy, has only yielded me a living. It may improve--I may make a

“strike”--but this is mere speculation. Time alone can tell. I like

mining much--hard work though it be--and am resolved to follow it

as a business for the remnant of my days, or until I have a

competence. There is a charm--an inexpressible something, inherent

in the pursuit--which carries a man through the day’s toil with

unabated energy. It is a feeling akin to that which leads men to

the gaming table, to wild speculations, or to hazardous

undertakings; and each succeeding day finds a miner as eager as

ever to continue the search after the hidden treasure. The gold has

a different appearance, a greater intrinsic value in his eyes, than

that which is acquired in any other way. He is the _first_ to

receive it from Nature’s bank of deposit, and it possesses a beauty

that no coin can equal.

It is away up on the head waters of Trinity river, or rather on one

of its tributaries, that my cabin rears its humble proportions.

With no neighbors nearer than one mile--the mountains rising high

above and all around me--encompassed by a forest of pine and

spruce--in the midst of wild beasts, wild cats, catamounts,

grizzlies and lions--I am leading a genuine backwoods life. It is

needless to say that its novelty charms me, and that I glory in the

most perfect independence. Nor is this all. Flowers, beautiful,

rich, rare, bedeck the mountain sides, (for this is May, the month

of flowers,) and I can gather a bouquet that would shame those of

civilized gardens. Nature defies art, and Nature’s gems stand

proudly, unrivaled and unapproached. And yet this is not all. There

is a little bird who sits and warbles, almost all day long, the

sweetest melody I ever heard. Up in the foliage of a huge pine,

adjacent to my cabin, dwells the pretty songster; and I speak but

the truth when I say that beside him a canary would hang its head.

My wild-wood warbler reigns the king of songsters.

My furniture arrangements are not, as yet, finished. I have neither

table nor chairs. Supported at one end by a sack of potatoes, at

the other by my left hand, is the board on which this sheet is

laid, while your humble friend sits on the ground, _a la Turk_, (or

tailor,) and indites this “missel” to you. I am meek and lowly in

my pretensions now, Hinton, and my rough miner’s suit sits lightly

on my frame. Adieu for the present. I have no envelopes, and must,

therefore, close on this page. Wishing you every success and

happiness,

I remain your attached friend,

* * *

And now listen to what the District Attorney for the county of San

Francisco says. In a speech which he delivered some time ago in a

criminal case in the city of San Francisco, he makes use of the

following language:--“Twelve hundred murders have been committed in this

city within the last four years, and only one of the murderers has been

convicted!” What a striking comment is this upon California justice!

Twelve hundred murders in the city of San Francisco alone, within the

space of four years, and only one conviction! But it is unnecessary for

me to lengthen my remarks upon these subjects. If additional evidences

of the corruption and rottenness of affairs in California are required,

all that is necessary is to look into the papers that come from that

State, and the desired knowledge will soon be obtained. Here, however,

let me simply say that it is impossible to get at the real, naked facts

from the California journals. Almost every newspaper in the State is

under the control of interested parties, and they will not allow the

truth to be spoken when it conflicts with their schemes and projects.

Nevertheless, enough may be learned from them to convince any reasonable

person of the correctness of my description of California.

Thus, then, I have given a fair and truthful statement of what I saw,

and those who are not yet convinced must go and test the matter for

themselves. They will find what I have told them to be true, and that

there is more enormity there than I have ventured to detail.

The absence of all social feeling, of refinement, of the little

elegancies of life, is painfully manifest. It would, of course, be

absurd to expect in a new country all the luxuries of an old

civilization, but their absence constitutes no excuse for the total want

of even the decencies of life. Law is a nullity, or at best a mere

nominal thing; order does not exist except where the dread of the

bowie-knife or the revolver enforces it. Men of notoriously bad

character are intrusted with the management of affairs, and are easily

accessible to bribery. Justice is proverbially venal, legislation is

utterly corrupt. Such a loose administration of public affairs would be

productive of bad results any where, but its influence is especially

malign in California, where so many desperate men are to be found,

determined, at every hazard, to better their fortunes. Murder, robbery

and swindling are the methods by which they aim to increase their

income, the law being powerless to check them.

We have called attention to the general barrenness of the soil, and

endeavored to impress upon the reader’s mind a conviction of the great

uncertainties of mining. What then remains to attract the emigrant? The

feverish excitement of speculation, which entices so many only to

destroy them. In all countries, this is productive as much loss as

gain, but in California, where projects are pursued with a recklessness

elsewhere unknown, the losses are on a gigantic scale. Disappointments,

therefore, have the keenness of those of the beaten gambler, to whom

defeat is irretrievable ruin. What wonder, then, that suicides are so

common in that unhappy country?

Of the condition of females in that State, it is useless for me to

speak. I have already said enough on that subject, and it becomes every

man who thinks of emigrating thither, to ponder well the risks to which

he will subject the ladies of his family. The enormities chargeable upon

California in this respect would be difficult to parallel in any age of

the world. They are of so gross a nature that it is impossible even to

allude to them in a book which may be seen by women.

And now, after having well considered all these things, after having

become thoroughly acquainted with the facts I have been at the pains to

collect and record. I would again ask my reader, Are you going to

California?

THE END.

Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:

without any orther remuneration=> without any other remuneration {pg 60}

with dust and derspiration=> with dust and perspiration {pg 147}

I am well aquainted=> I am well acquainted {pg 164}