press of canvas, running eight knots. 11 A.M., in sight of land. We soon
make the highlands, and are running for Port Royal. We have a pilot
already on board, he having accompanied our steamer to Chagres. Port
Royal is situated on a low island in the mouth of a small bay, upon the
head of which Kingston is situated. We passed an armed brig, a
steamer-of-war, seventy-four gun ship, revenue-cutter, all displaying
the red cross of St. George. A four-oared boat comes off towards us; our
wheels are turned back, and we are boarded by an officer in full
uniform. After the usual inspection, our wheels again revolved, and we
moved on up the bay, or river, in the direction of Kingston. After
running a mile, the above-mentioned officer is astonished at learning
that our steamer is _under weigh_; he came forward and wished to be put
on shore--stupid fellow. We are standing inland, with high mountains on
our right, capped with clouds. We now pass fortifications, and bearing
to the right; our pilot sings out “steady!” we are now within full view
of Kingston, and heading directly for the town; “steady!” “port!”
steamer falls off, bringing the town on our larboard bow--“_hard a
port!_” on we steam--“steady!” We are now passing a large fortification;
we see houses nestling in orange groves on the side of the mountain. The
town is so densely shaded with cocoa-nut and other tropical trees, that
it is barely visible. We are drawing very near, the inhabitants are
crowding to the shore. Our pilot sings out, “let go the anchor,” the
wheels are reversed, and we are warping around to the dock, which is
crowded with natives as black as Erebus. Our plank is soon out, and our
steamer belches forth her cargo of Californians, who, in profusion of
beard and hideousness of aspect, would, no doubt, have compared
favorably with those earlier adventurers under Columbus, who had the
honor of landing here in advance of us. We found the inhabitants
extremely attentive, particularly those who had goods to sell, and they
were principally Jews. We were followed by these insinuating
individuals, and kindly informed that by going a half mile we could buy
anything we wanted. We were at a loss to know whether we were really in
want, but were very kindly informed that we were in want of everything.
Oh! Chatham street, how thou hast been defamed! Certainly, Kingston
instead of Chatham street, is the Jewdom of the world.
I had a note of introduction from Mr. Moreau, whom I met at Gorgona, to
his family at Kingston. I am not prepared to say that I was in a
presentable condition. As near as memory serves me, I had on a gay
colored “poncho,” a slouched hat and long boots, saying nothing about
the whiskers and moustache. I found an accomplished daughter, who was a
good English scholar and fine pianist, and a mother who spoke nothing
but French. My stay was short, but under other circumstances I should
have wished a prolongation.
Many of the passengers visited General Santa Anna, whose villa was one
mile from Kingston. He was living in great splendor, and was found
extremely affable, speaking the English language fluently. Kingston is a
town of considerable extent, the streets running at right angles,
well-shaded; numerous churches and schools; the buildings generally of
brick, built low to prevent disasters from hurricanes. The inhabitants
are generally instructed in the rudiments of an English education, and
are quite intelligent, but all complain of poverty. The island produces
fruit in abundance, it hardly commands a price, excepting on the arrival
of a steamer, when it is higher than in almost any market in the world.
The natives have taken valuable lessons from the Jews, and appear to
have acquired _their_ peculiar business habits with the greatest
facility. One of them
had a quantity of shells, for which he demanded $25, but immediately
fell $20, and I think would have taken two.
During the afternoon the Cherokee came in and commenced coaling up. This
delicate duty is performed by the colored girls of the place, and the
_modus operandi_ is as novel as it is laborious. Some fifty girls are
engaged, each with a vessel resembling a half barrel, holding sixty
pounds of coal; this, when filled, is placed upon the head and carried
up the gang-plank to the deck. As laborious as this duty may seem, it is
performed with the greatest alacrity, accompanied by songs, dancing, and
peals of laughter. (See Plate). The _belle_ of the party, luxuriating in
the name of “Flouncy,” is seen on the deck, dressed in a pink muslin,
flounced almost to the waist. She is in the act of taking one of those
extraordinary steps for which the colored population are justly
celebrated. The mate seems to have taken in charge a small specimen of
humanity who pertinaciously insists upon coming on board to sell
parrots. He is now receiving a “dose of sprouts,” and will go off, no
doubt, with a pair of stogys vividly impressed upon his imagination. A
colored gentleman is seen laying against the wheel house counting the
tubs as they are borne along by the “Bloomer”-clad girls; near him
stands an individual who looks very like a returning Californian. A
party of ladies and gentlemen are promenading the upper deck. Cocoa-nut
trees with fruit are seen, with a range of mountains in the background.
Boats with fruit, cactus, shells, parrots, &c., are being rowed about to
tempt the passengers.
[Illustration: G. V. COOPER DEL.
ON STONE BY J. CAMERON
LITH OF G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y.
COALEING UP
_KINGSTON, JAMAICA_.]
Chapter Thirty-fourth.
OUR WHEELS REVOLVE--THE NATIVES OF THE ISLAND EXTINCT--THE WRONGS
THEY HAVE SUFFERED--THE ISLAND ONCE A PARADISE--SAN DOMINGO, HER
MOUNTAINS--CUBA--A SHOWER BATH GRATIS--“SAIL HO!”--CAYCUS ISLAND
AND PASSAGE--TURTLE FOR DINNER--A SERMON--GALLANT CONDUCT OF OUR
STEAMER--WE SHIP A SEA--A SPANISH VESSEL IN DISTRESS--OUR TILLER
CHAINS GIVE WAY--A KNIFE AND FORK IN SEARCH OF MINCE PIES--GULF
STREAM--WATER-SPOUTS--“LIGHT SHIP”--SANDY HOOK--ANXIETY--SIGHT OF
NEW YORK--FEELINGS AND CONDITION OF THE PASSENGERS--A SAD
FATE--AGROUND--A NEW PILOT--AGAIN UNDER WEIGH--NEAR THE DOCK--A
DEATH--MAN OVERBOARD--MAKE FAST--AT HOME--ONE WORD TO THOSE ABOUT
TO EMBARK.
Jan. 30th. We finish taking in provisions, coal, and water, and at 1
P.M., let go our hawser, our wheels revolve, and we are again under
weigh, heading out to sea. We take a hearty dinner while yet in the bay,
but there is a tremendous sea outside, and many will be obliged to pay
tribute to Neptune. This is a delightful island, but it is changed from
the paradise Columbus found it. Of the once happy, but now grossly
abused natives, I saw but two, and am told they are almost extinct. What
a sad commentary upon the law that “might makes right.” What tenure
could have been more perfect than that by which the native held this
island. It was bequeathed to their forefathers by the Creator, and
transmitted from father to son; but a stranger visited them, and they
mistook him for a messenger from the Great Spirit, a visitor from the
clouds. They worshipped the stranger, invited him to their groves and
pleasure grounds, and gave him bread and wine. But alas! they have
embraced the viper. The stranger taking advantage of the confidence
they, in their simplicity, reposed, smites them with a ruthless hand,
and hunts them down like wild beasts, until the last son, goaded to
desperation, severs the cord of life and goes to meet the spirit of his
fathers on the great “hunting ground.” The nation sinks into oblivion,
while that of their ruthless invader is emblazoned upon every tablet,
and the leader in this act of infamy sleeps in triumph under an imposing
cenotaph. Why does the sympathy of nations sleep while there still
exists a remnant of this truly noble, but down-trodden people. As we
reach the ocean we take a more easterly course, and are brought in full
view of the light-house, which is on the extreme point of the island; we
pass this point at 9 P.M., when we take a more northerly course, and
stand directly for Cuba and the Caycus passage, designing to make, also,
the western point of Hispaniola. We have a severe gale, but our steamer
rides it out most gallantly.
31st. (Morning). We are in sight of Hispaniola, Hayti, or San Domingo,
by all of which names it has been known at different times; her
mountains looming up several thousand feet above the horizon. The sea is
calm, our run pleasant; Cuba now appears off our larboard bow, about
forty miles distant. It is indicated by heavy clouds, at the base of
which, or just above the horizon, is seen the dark outline of her
mountains. The mountains within the tropics are universally capped with
clouds, which, in floating over, are caught by the peaks, and there
waste away, the diminution supplied by the condensation of vapor, or the
addition of other clouds. During the evening, a heavy sea broke against
the side of the steamer, bursting our port fastening, and shooting a
column of water eight inches in diameter, directly into the berth of my
room-mate. It will readily be imagined that he awoke. We have just
passed point St. Nicholas, the northwest point of St. Domingo, and point
Mayxi, the most easterly point of Cuba.
Feb. 1st. A ship is seen, “hull down,” off our larboard quarter; no land
in sight, a heavy sea, and we are standing directly for the Caycus
Islands, which we shall make about sunset.
2nd. We have made the Caycus passage, left the Caribbean Sea, and are
now in the Atlantic, heading north by west, making a direct course for
New York. We cross the tropic of Cancer at a quarter to 9 A.M. We have
now nothing to do but promenade, sit in our state-rooms, and read, eat,
sleep, and think of home. We have about 300 passengers on board. We have
live sheep, poultry in abundance, and some twenty huge turtles, weighing
from two to three hundred pounds each, some of each falling daily
victims to our voracious appetites. One little turtle which looked as
though he had been taken from his native island, much against his will,
was thrust into a barrel, and there compelled to lay on his back. As I
passed, I thought he eyed me with solicitation, and I requested one of
the firemen to turn him over. This he did, much to the poor creature’s
apparent satisfaction. I relieved his pangs for the moment, and shall
probably help devour him for dinner. Mr. Foster and myself had supplied
ourselves liberally with oranges, pine-apples, limes, “forbidden fruit,”
bananas, &c., and spent much of our time in feasting. According to
observation at 12 M., we were 920 miles from New York; we have made, in
twenty-four hours, 214 miles, and are now under a full press of canvas.
3rd. (Sunday). We have a sermon by an English clergyman, from Kingston.
By observation at 12 M., we had made 234 miles in twenty-four hours. We
have a strong wind, and very heavy sea; boxes and barrels are running
foot races on deck, it rains in torrents, hatches are closed down, but
our ship rides gallantly. She rises manfully from the strife, shakes off
the spray, and again leaps upon her antagonist.
4th. Stormy unpleasant day. We are now off the coast of the Carolinas,
in the gulf-stream. The wind blows cold off the land, reminding us of
winter. Three days ago we were picking oranges and limes, the
thermometer at 105°. Oh! anthracite coal! I most earnestly implore thy
protection. While at dinner, we shipped a sea, which burst through the
windows, putting out the lights, carrying every dish from the table, and
saturating the entire company. The captain who, with a party of ladies,
was sitting at the head of the table, claimed the most liberal
instalment. At half past 2 P.M., a vessel appears, and bears down for
us, running before the wind. She proves a Spanish bark; her rudder has
been carried away, a spar is lashed on in its place, by which they are
trying to manage her. She has up a foresail and spanker, and hoists a
signal of distress. It is blowing a gale, raining in torrents, and the
sea running mountain high. Our quarter boats could not live an instant,
rendering it impossible to assist them. As they passed near us, we saw
two men on the foretop-gallant yard. At 6 P.M., our tiller chains gave
way, the steamer is thrown around into the troughs, and rolls so that
it is impossible to keep footing on deck. The table, which has just been
spread for supper, is swept of every dish: the cold beef chases the
vegetables around the saloon, as if death could not dissipate the force
of habit; the mustard and vinegar cruets, impelled by the same instinct,
gave chase to the beef, and after a protracted run, brought up at my
state-room door, _entirely exhausted_. The most amusing trial of speed
took place between a knife and fork and a mince-pie; the latter lost its
cap, or I think it would have won the race. Our chains are soon
repaired, and we head on our course. It is dark, and we see nothing more
of the last sail; wine circulates freely; our steamer seems intoxicated,
and many of her passengers are _down_ with the same complaint.
5th. Cold unpleasant morning; a heavy sea on. The wind blowing against
the current of the gulf-stream, causes a spray, which rises in columns
and seems to congeal in the air. We are in close proximity to several
water-spouts, seeming the connecting links between the ocean and the
clouds. We are under twenty-one inches of steam, but no canvas, the wind
having been dead ahead for the past two days.
6th. Clear and cold; five sails in sight; ocean as smooth as a mirror.
We fall in with a Delaware pilot, who reports us one hundred miles from
New York. An exclamation of joy burst from the passengers, who are now
all on deck. At 9 A.M., we saw the smoke of a steamer off our larboard
quarter; ten sail in sight; the ocean presents a most sublime spectacle,
not a breath disturbs its repose; as if jaded by prolonged agitation, it
has relapsed into a quiet slumber. We are in sight of the light-ship off
Delaware Bay; a pilot comes on board; Sandy Hook is in sight; the Jersey
shore stretching away to the left, but just seen above the horizon. We
passed Sandy Hook light-house, twenty-five miles from New York, at 7
P.M. As night draws her curtain round, we see looming up from the
horizon, directly in our course, a halo of light, indicating the
locality of the city. All are prepared to land, each, for the time
being, absorbed in his own thoughts. What a diversity; the countenance
of each portraying in vivid colors the hopes and fears within. Here,
seated by one of the main pipes, is an emaciated form, clothed in rags;
the head is reclining on the hand, the eye sunken, the visage ghastly,
and now the whole frame writhes under a most distressing cough. A few
short months have done their work. One year ago, a stalwart, robust,
enterprising man, full of life and enthusiasm, left his wife and
children to seek his fortune in a distant land. He reached his
destination, and struggled hard, his prospects alternating between hope
and fear; still he struggled on until at last he discovered that some
lurking disease was undermining his constitution. The approach was
gradual, but it did its work. The victim borrowed money and sailed for
home. He is before me. He is destined to clasp to his bosom, once more,
his wife and children, but in one short week is borne to a neighboring
church yard.
This is the history and fate of more than one of our passengers; we,
however, have many on board who are returning with robust constitutions
and well-filled purses. Their countenances are lighted up with the fond
anticipation of soon being restored to those whose greeting smile and
warm embrace will heal the laceration of the past.
The excitement runs high; there is a prospect of reaching our dock by 10
o’clock. As we approach the Narrows, our steamer suddenly slackens her
pace, and we hear a cry of “aground.” Our pilot has run us upon the
shoals of Coney Island; the wheels are reversed, but we are fast; the
lead is thrown with a cry of “_three fathoms_ o’ the deep ho!” We can
plainly see the light of the city looming up from the horizon, but the
chances are against us. A new pilot comes on board, who points out the
channel; our wheels are reversed, our tiller put hard down, and after
several efforts, we are afloat, with the loss of part of our keel. As we
pass through the Narrows, our pilot hands us the morning papers,
containing a detail of the Hague street disaster. The city is now in
sight, and we are steaming along with lightning speed; anxiety most
intense. We near our pier, which we find much obstructed by ice; small
boats attempt to come off for our hawser, but we are obliged to steam
over toward Jersey City and come up again; this time we succeed, and as
we are nearing the dock, the death of one of the passengers is
announced. He was the _last_ of a party of six that had embarked for,
and I believe the only one of the party who lived to reach California.
He lost his health soon after his arrival there, and died upon reaching
his native shore.
As the steamer was being warped around, a passenger in attempting to
jump to the pier, missed it, and fell through the mass of floating ice
below. He soon gained the surface, but, uttering the most heart-rending
screams, again disappeared. He was eventually rescued, and I jumped for
the pier with better success, and stepping into a hack, was rapidly
driven in the direction of Broadway. It is now midnight. Thirteen months
have elapsed since I left, and for the last six, I have not had the
least intelligence from home. My feelings can better be imagined than
described, as I pulled the bell at No. 3 Warren street.
* * * * *
One word to those about to embark for California. Take the least
possible amount of baggage, in a trunk of the smallest possible size. As
no one can anticipate the circumstances under which they may be placed
there, nor the wants of a life in California; it is recommended to buy
_nothing_ here, as purchases can be made _much more judiciously_ in San
Francisco, and other towns in California, and at about as fair rates, at
the same time saving the trouble and expense of transportation. The
transit charges, by the Nicaragua route, are fifteen cents per pound;
this is _invariably_ extra, even if one has a transit passage-ticket,
which are issued at a charge of about $25. A limited amount of baggage
is taken down the Atlantic and up the Pacific free, but _not_ across.
Passengers taking the Panama route, are now landed at Aspinwall (Navy
Bay), thence by railroad to Miller’s Station, saving thirty miles of
river travel; thence in a row-boat to Gorgona, where mules are stationed
in abundance to transport to Panama, twenty-five miles distant.
Passengers are landed on the dock at Aspinwall, free of charge, the
transit charges being about the same as by the Nicaragua route.
Constitution of the State of California.
PROCLAMATION TO THE PEOPLE OF CALIFORNIA.
The delegates of the people, assembled in Convention, have formed a
Constitution, which is now presented for your ratification. The time and
manner of voting on this Constitution, and of holding the first general
election, are clearly set forth in the schedule. The whole subject is,
therefore, left for your unbiassed and deliberate consideration.
The Prefect (or person exercising the functions of that office) of each
district, will designate the places for opening the polls, and give due
notice of the election, in accordance with the provisions of the
Constitution and schedule.
The people are now called upon to form a government for themselves, and
to designate such officers as they desire, to make and execute the laws.
That their choice may be wisely made, and that the government so
organized may secure the permanent welfare and happiness of the people
of the new State, is the sincere and earnest wish of the present
Executive, who, if the Constitution be ratified, will, with pleasure,
surrender his powers to whomsoever the people may designate as his
successor.
Given at Monterey, California, this 12th day of October, A. D., 1849.
(Signed) B. RILEY,
Brevet Brig. General, U. S. A., and Governor of California.
(Official) H. W. HALLECK,
Brevet Captain and Secretary of State.
* * * * *
_We, the People of California, grateful to Almighty God for our freedom,
in order to secure its blessings, do establish this Constitution_:
ARTICLE I.
DECLARATION OF RIGHTS.
SEC. 1. All men are by nature free and independent, and have certain
inalienable rights, among which are those of enjoying and defending life
and liberty, acquiring, possessing, and protecting property, and
pursuing and obtaining safety and happiness.
SEC. 2. All political power is inherent in the people. Government is
instituted for the protection, security, and benefit of the people; and
they have the right to alter or reform the same, whenever the public
good may require it.
SEC. 3. The right of trial by jury shall be secured to all, and remain
inviolate forever; but a jury trial may be waived by the parties, in
all civil cases, in the manner to be prescribed by law.
SEC. 4. The free exercise and enjoyment of religious profession and
worship, without discrimination or preference, shall forever be allowed
in this State; and no person shall be rendered incompetent to be a
witness on account of his opinions on matters of religious belief; but
the liberty of conscience, hereby secured, shall not be so construed as
to excuse acts of licentiousness, or justify practices inconsistent with
the peace or safety of this State.
SEC. 5. The privilege of the writ of _habeas corpus_ shall not be
suspended, unless when, in cases of rebellion or invasion, the public
safety may require its suspension.
SEC. 6. Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines
imposed, nor shall cruel or unusual punishments be inflicted, nor shall
witnesses be unreasonably detained.
SEC. 7. All persons shall be bailable by sufficient sureties: unless for
capital offences, when the proof is evident, or the presumption great.
SEC. 8. No person shall be held to answer for a capital or otherwise
infamous crime (except in cases of impeachment, and in cases of militia
when in actual service, and the land and naval forces in time of war, or
which this State may keep with the consent of Congress in time of peace,
and in cases of petit larceny under the regulation of the Legislature,)
unless on presentment or indictment of a grand jury; and in any trial in
any court whatever, the party accused shall be allowed to appear and
defend in person and with counsel, as in civil actions. No person shall
be subject to be twice put in jeopardy for the same offence; nor shall
he be compelled, in any criminal case, to be a witness against himself,
nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of
law; nor shall private property be taken for public use without just
compensation.
SEC. 9. Every citizen may freely speak, write, and publish his
sentiments on all subjects, being responsible for the abuse of that
right; and no law shall be passed to restrain or abridge the liberty of
speech or of the press. In all criminal prosecutions on indictments for
libels, the truth may be given in evidence to the jury; and if it shall
appear to the jury that the matter charged as libellous is true, and was
published with good motives and for justifiable ends, the party shall be
acquitted: and the jury shall have the right to determine the law and
the fact.
SEC. 10. The people shall have the right freely to assemble together, to
consult for the common good, to instruct their representatives, and to
petition the legislature for redress of grievances.
SEC. 11. All laws of a general nature shall have a uniform operation.
SEC. 12. The military shall be subordinate to the civil power. No
standing army shall be kept up by this State in time of peace; and in
time of war no appropriation for a standing army shall be for a longer
time than two years.
SEC. 13. No soldier shall, in time of peace, be quartered in any house,
without the consent of the owner; nor in time of war, except in the
manner to be prescribed by law.
SEC. 14. Representation shall be apportioned according to population.
SEC. 15. No person shall be imprisoned for debt, in any civil action on
_mesne_ or final process, unless in cases of fraud; and no person shall
be imprisoned for a militia fine in time of peace.
SEC. 16. No bill of attainder, _ex post facto_ law, or law impairing the
obligation of contracts, shall ever be passed.
SEC. 17. Foreigners who are, or who may hereafter become, _bona fide_
residents of this State, shall enjoy the same rights in respect to the
possession, enjoyment and inheritance of property, as native born
citizens.
SEC. 18. _Neither slavery, nor involuntary servitude, unless for the
punishment of crimes, shall ever be tolerated in this State._
SEC. 19. The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses,
papers, and effects, against unreasonable seizures and searches, shall
not be violated; and no warrant shall issue but on probable cause,
supported by oath or affirmation, particularly describing the place to
be searched, and the persons and things to be seized.
SEC. 20. Treason against the State shall consist only in levying war
against it, adhering to its enemies, or giving them aid and comfort. No
person shall be convicted of treason, unless on the evidence of two
witnesses to the same overt act, or confession in open court.
SEC. 21. This enumeration of rights shall not be construed to impair or
deny others retained by the people.
ARTICLE II.
RIGHT OF SUFFRAGE.