Lord in prayer for the long journey to San Francisco--undertaken after
much waiting upon God--before us; and at half past 8 left St. Louis in a
Pullman's car. In the course of the morning we crossed the Missouri,
and, the weather being lovely, with vegetation in perfection, the
journey was delightful. In the evening we alighted at the supper station
to partake of some refreshment, and at 9 o'clock retired to rest. The
little room we occupied was comfortable, and the sleeping arrangements
were excellent. Our windows remained shut, but as the six ventilators
above them were left open, there was thorough ventilation; and, after
passing a good night, at 9 o'clock the next morning we reached Council
Bluffs. There, after breakfast, at half past 9, we got into the same
train; but, having to take seats in one of the other carriages until
the Pullman cars were unlocked, a multitude of emigrants--who were
pouring into California at the rate of 1,000 per day--soon surrounded
us, amongst whom we distributed some tracts. At Omaha, Nebraska (476
miles from St. Louis, where the Union Pacific Railway begins), we
arrived in half an hour; and, after waiting three hours at the station,
got into another train, without emigrants, and there engaged a second
little private room. At 1 o'clock our journey was resumed, and soon
after leaving Omaha we entered upon the prairies, which consist of
millions of acres of wild, barren, uncultivated land, stretching away
for hundreds of miles in all directions, with scarcely a bush, tree, or
plant of any size upon them, and covered only with dry, short, stunted
grass. Throughout this district (appropriately called the "American
Desert") the cold must often be intense, for there is no shelter for
many miles, and nothing to break the force and severity of winter gales.
During this portion of our journey the train advanced only at the rate
of 15 miles an hour; for, though travelling _apparently_ over immense
level plains, we were gradually ascending some thousands of feet above
the level of the sea. On April 20th, at noon, the engine got out of
order, and as we and all the other passengers alighted from the train,
there was further opportunity of distributing tracts and of surveying
the immense plains around. Some idea could be formed also of the
wilderness through which the Children of Israel passed, on their way to
Canaan, the promised land. Soon after continuing our journey, the
elevation became greater, and quantities of snow in large patches were
seen lying on the ground. Just before reaching Archer, distant ranges of
the Rocky Mountains became visible, having peaks covered with perpetual
snow; but, in consequence of defective power in our locomotive,
Cheyenne, the dinner station (a town 5,931 feet above the level of the
sea, consisting chiefly of detached wooden houses,) was not reached
until 4 p.m., when the train drew up at a short distance from the
Inter-Ocean Hotel. After leaving Cheyenne, numerous snow sheds were
passed, erected at intervals to protect the railway from great snow
drifts in heavy winter storms; and during the night we ascended to
Sherman, (8,235 feet above the level of the sea, a point more elevated
than the summit of the Rigi, and the highest railway station in the
world) where the cold became severe, and the snow in places was several
feet deep.
On April 21st all through the day we continued to travel in the midst of
a wild, barren, desolate region, with long ranges of lofty, snow-capped
mountains in the distance, and snow in great abundance everywhere. There
was neither foliage nor vegetation, and though the railway carriages
were warmed, the cold outside was piercing. For several hours we passed
repeatedly under snow sheds, of which there were considerable numbers;
and, in consequence of our detention on the previous day, arrived at
the breakfast station very late. In the afternoon, at 3 o'clock,
Evanstone, 6,870 feet above the level of the sea, was reached, and
towards the evening we descended gradually towards the valleys, where
the wild and desolate character of the scenery gave way to grandeur and
magnificence. At Ogden (35 miles only from Salt Lake City, where the
Union Pacific Railway terminates and the Central Pacific begins) we
arrived at 7 o'clock, and after waiting there an hour and a quarter,
changed trains; but were obliged to be satisfied then merely with a
"section," as the only little private room in the next train had been
engaged. On April 22nd we rose at half past 5, at 9 a.m. reached Elko,
Nevada, 5,650 feet above the level of the sea, and afterwards travelled
across the American alkali desert, consisting of vast plains covered
with sage brush, bounded by long, snowy mountain ranges. At Wells, an
elevation of only 5,030 feet above the level of the sea, where the train
stopped for half an hour, we observed groups of Indians, wrapped either
in scarlet blankets or in striped woollen mantles dyed with brilliant
colours. They wore curious looking hats, trimmed with feathers and wide
ribbons, and had their faces painted with patches of vermilion. At some
of the stations a few Chinese also were standing about, with their hair
plaited in long tails, reaching nearly to the heels. At Bewawe and
Battle Mountain there were more Indians, and towards evening we reached
Winnemucca, where several copper-coloured men and women gathered round
the train. On the morning of April 23rd, at a very early hour, we
entered California, and then the ascent of the Sierra Nevada Mountains
became so steep that two locomotives were employed to draw the train up
hill. At short intervals strong wooden snow sheds, like tunnels, had
been erected, as a protection to the railway against injury from heavy
snow drifts; but they could be regarded only as necessary evils, on
account of the interruption they occasioned to the possibility of seeing
everything around. At 6 o'clock we reached Summit Station, 7,042 feet
above the level of the sea, an elevation to which the train had been
gradually mounting in the night, and here a magnificent prospect of
indescribable grandeur suddenly burst upon our view. Far above the
station innumerable mountain peaks were towering towards the sky; the
sun, which shone brilliantly, lighted up the snow to a whiteness that
was dazzling; deep abysses, chasms, and ravines surrounded us; millions
of pine and fir-trees were growing up the mountains' sides; and
thousands of feet far down below, valleys clothed with the richest
verdure, added beauty to the scene.
During the construction of this wonderful mountain railway, it is said
that the sum spent upon blasting-powder alone amounted to a million
dollars. At 8 o'clock, the door of our compartment was thrown open, and
the conductor called out, "Cape Horn!" when all the passengers jumped up
immediately and looked intently out of window, for the train was
travelling slowly along the very edge of a precipice, 2,450 feet in
height; a point from which an extensive landscape of great beauty could
be seen extending far and wide. After leaving "Cape Horn," we crossed a
timber bridge, erected over a portion of the valley, proceeded to
"Emigrant's Gap," thence to Colfax, and afterwards descended the
mountain with a rush, further on into California, where the weather was
warm, and the country looked most beautiful, the trees being covered
with foliage, and the ground highly cultivated everywhere. For many
miles we passed rich meadow land, and numbers of large trees; the fields
were covered with grass, intermingled with brilliant masses of wild
flowers; lupines, eschcoltzias, wild roses, geraniums, etc., were
flourishing in many places, and millions of Californian poppies of an
intense yellow, deepening into orange colour, outshone all the rest. An
American gentleman once said: "I never saw flowers till I saw them in
California." At half past 10 we arrived at Sacramento, and, after
remaining there an hour, travelled all day through a beautiful part of
the country, favoured with fine summer weather. In the course of the
afternoon Livermore and Niles were reached, the train stopped a few
minutes at San Jose, and finally we arrived at Oakland, a suburb of San
Francisco, where two gentlemen entered the carriage who welcomed us
cordially, and earnestly invited my husband to preach there. At 5.35 we
alighted at the station, where two brethren were kindly waiting to
receive us, with whom we went on board the "El Capitan," a large ferry
steamer; and, after crossing the Bay, landed at San Francisco, where our
friends conducted us to the rooms they had engaged at the Palace Hotel.
Thus ended our journey of 2,390 miles (from St. Louis), accomplished in
six days and five nights, the longest railway journey we had ever taken
at one time; and truly thankful to the Lord were we for His protecting
care during our travels, and for the comforts of the resting place now
provided for us.
On the evening of Friday, April 26th, at the lecture room of the Calvary
Presbyterian Church, Mr. Mueller gave his first address at San Francisco;
and, after the meeting was over, James Wilkinson, an orphan formerly on
Ashley Down, came up to speak to him. He had been living in the United
States for fifteen years, and was not only converted himself, but had
been used by the Lord as an instrument of great blessing to the souls of
others. On Sunday morning, April 28th, Mr. Mueller preached at the
Tabernacle Presbyterian Church, Tyler Street, to about 1,800 people; in
the evening he addressed nearly 2,000 at the same church; and on the
29th preached at the Metropolitan Temple to a congregation of 800.
On the 30th, a gentleman called in his carriage and took us for a drive
to Cliff House, seven miles distant, near the Golden Gate, a strait two
miles wide, which leads from the Bay into the Pacific Ocean. Many years
ago the spot on which San Francisco now stands was covered with hills
formed of sand, blown there in immense quantities from the shores of the
Pacific by the strong winds which constantly prevail; but now a
"magnificent city" (as some call it) has been erected upon the site that
formerly was nothing but a barren waste. Upon arriving at the coast of
the Pacific, we took a walk upon the beach, a vast region composed
entirely of sand, which, as no rain falls in California from the middle
of April until October, becomes extremely troublesome, because it is
blown inland in prodigious quantities for miles by the trade winds, for
which that locality is noted. During the winter rain falls every day;
but frost, except in the mountains and northern portions of the State
(generally speaking), is unknown. During our walk the tide was nearly
high; but when low, beautiful shells in great variety are found upon
these shores. After walking some time upon the sands, our friend
conducted us to Cliff House, an hotel built upon a high rock overlooking
the ocean, where, from a balcony, we had an opportunity of observing the
sea-lions, by which the rocks that stand out in the sea are frequented.
Hundreds of these curious, amphibious creatures were there, with their
pointed heads, and bodies shining with salt water. Some were basking in
the sunshine on dry portions of the cliffs, others were plunging into
the sea, several were climbing up sloping places on the rocks, and
others were barking discordantly. Soon after our arrival at Cliff House,
a young waiter introduced himself as the brother of Emma Evans, one of
the orphans formerly on Ashley Down. He knew we were in the United
States, and having often heard Mr. Mueller preach in Bristol years ago,
recognized him with great delight, and before our departure presented us
with a beautiful bouquet of flowers, as a little token of his gratitude.
After our return to San Francisco, on the evening of that day, my
husband preached at the First Congregational Church, to a large
assembly, with great help and earnestness. Amongst the congregation were
some Chinese, who occupied front seats near the pulpit. On the afternoon
of May 1st we visited China Town, situated in a part of San Francisco
called Sacramento, which is thickly peopled with Chinese, where
thousands of them live. The ground floors of many of their houses
contain shops filled with curious and costly articles, manufactured by
the natives of China and Japan; but most of the Chinese live down in
places like cellars underneath their shops, where they dwell crowded
together, smoking and eating quantities of opium. On the evening of that
day, Mr. Mueller preached at Broadway German Methodist Episcopal Church,
when he addressed a large number of Germans in their own language; and
the following evening held a meeting at a church in Howard Street. On
May 3rd, we walked to the top of a hill not far distant, and from it
looked down upon the Bay, and upon San Francisco.
"The first house ever built there was in the year 1835, which was the
commencement of a village, afterwards called 'Yerba Buena,' or good
herb, from a medicinal plant growing in great abundance in the vicinity.
At the present time, great numbers of eucalyptus trees flourish in the
neighbourhood; which, from their sanitary properties, are considered a
great blessing to the people. In 1847 the name of the city was changed
to San Francisco; in 1848 (the year that gold was first discovered in
California), the population had grown to 1,000; and from this small
beginning it steadily increased, until in 1870 it reached 149,482. Now,
the city contains about 256,000 inhabitants, including 50,000 Chinese,
and many thousands of negroes."
On the evening of that day, Mr. Mueller preached at the Calvary
Presbyterian Church, to about 1,200 people, when he spoke for nearly an
hour and a half, with great power and earnestness. On Sunday, May 5th,
he preached in the morning at the First Baptist Church, and in the
evening at the Calvary Presbyterian, from Romans viii. 28-30, when the
Church (a very large one) was crowded to the utmost, the body of the
building and the galleries being so thronged, that numbers who could not
gain admittance went away. His appeal to believers, and words of warning
to the unconverted, were of a weighty, solemn character. Several
gentlemen and ladies occupied seats upon the platform, and the steps
leading up to it were filled with hearers. On the 6th, at 2 in the
afternoon, he attended a meeting of pastors belonging to the city and
the State (some of whom came a distance of 20, 30, and 50 miles in order
to be present at the meeting), when he addressed about 150 of his
brethren in the ministry for an hour and 20 minutes. In the evening at
the Tabernacle, Tyler Street, he preached a farewell sermon. The
congregation was large; numbers took leave of us as they left the
building, and a beautiful bouquet of choice flowers was handed in as a
parting gift by a gentleman who once lived in England.
On May 8th we left San Francisco and went to Oakland, where Mr. Mueller
preached in the evening at the First Baptist Church. On the 9th he
addressed 1,000 people at the First Congregational Church, and on the
10th preached to about the same number at the First Methodist Church. On
the 11th a gentleman took us in his carriage to visit the University of
California, six miles distant, which stands upon high ground, commanding
a distant view of the Bay, Government Island, Goat Island, etc.; but we
could see only the exterior of the buildings, as they were closed to
visitors on Saturdays. On our return we drove through Oakland, a name
derived from the fine groves of "live oaks," in the midst of which the
town was originally built. These trees are not ornamental only, but
they serve to screen the place from the fierce gales that blow through
the "Golden Gap" in summer, to the force of which Oakland is
particularly exposed; for the climate of San Francisco and the
neighbourhood has this peculiarity, that in summer the strongest and
most trying winds prevail, though, at all times of the year, trade winds
from the Pacific set in every morning at 11 o'clock, and last for about
five hours. During our drive, the only discomfort was the dust, which,
from the lack of rain in this country, soon becomes extremely
troublesome; and the scorching heat of the sun would have been
overpowering, if it had not been tempered by breezes from the Bay. On
Sunday morning, May 12th, Mr. Mueller preached at the First Methodist
Episcopal Church, from 1st Chron. 4-10, to a large, attentive audience,
and, when the service was over, Sheang Chack, a Chinese convert, who
labours amongst his own countrymen, came to shake hands with us.
In the evening my husband preached at the First Presbyterian Church, a
large building in the shape of an amphitheatre, where there was a "Union
Service," all the principal churches having been closed, that their
congregations might attend this meeting. He spoke for an hour from
Lamentations iii. 22-26; but the crowd was so great that hundreds were
unable to obtain admittance. After the service, a pastor said--"We have
had a glorious meeting." On the afternoon of the 13th, Mr. Mueller
addressed the young ladies at Mills' Seminary, six miles from Oakland;
in the evening he preached in German at the Methodist Episcopal Church;
and on the following day attended a Sunday School State Convention at
San Francisco, where he addressed many hundreds of Christian Workers for
an hour and a quarter.
Early on the morning of May 15th we left by rail for Santa Cruz, in
South California, on the Pacific coast, 120 miles from San Francisco;
and after a tedious journey reached our destination at 4 o'clock. Rooms
had been engaged for us at Pope's Cottage, a boarding-house in a lovely
situation on a hill, about a mile from the sea shore; and in the evening
at 8, Mr. Mueller preached at the Methodist Episcopal Church, where we
were heartily welcomed both by the pastor and the congregation. On the
following evening, he held another meeting, also at the same church.
On the 17th we went by rail to Felton, seven miles from Santa Cruz, to
see some of the "_Big Trees_," for which California is celebrated; and
after crossing a rustic bridge and passing through a shady glen, reached
a secluded spot, where the large trees became more immense than usual.
Some of them are of gigantic growth, and shoot up their tall, straight
trunks, like towering masts into the sky. The largest of these trees is
62 feet in circumference; its height was originally 371 feet, but the
upper portion of the trunk having been blown off, its present height is
only 296 feet. It is a kind of cedar, called the "red wood," belonging
to the "Sequoia Gigantea" species; but in other parts of California,
there are "Big Trees" considerably larger than the ones we saw. At
Mariposa, for instance, the "Grizzly Giant" is 107 feet in
circumference, 34 in diameter, and 400 high; and the first branch
(nearly 200 feet from the ground) is 8 feet in diameter. In the evening,
after our return, Mr. Mueller preached at the Methodist Episcopal Church,
for the third and last time at Santa Cruz, as, in consequence of other
engagements, we were unable to prolong our stay.
On May 30th, at 9.30 a.m., we set off, via Pajaro, for San Jose
(pronounced _Yozee_); and, after a journey by rail of 70 miles, arrived
there in the afternoon at half-past 2. At the Auzierais Hotel, the
following letter from a pastor at Oakland, was awaiting our arrival:--
"Oakland, May 15th, 1878.
"DEAR BROTHER,--I have just returned from our prayer meeting, and it may
be a source of gratitude and encouragement to you to know, that very
many testimonies were given to the great benefit received from your
ministrations here. In fact there is evidence on every hand, that the
seed you have sown, has taken root in many hearts. The faith of God's
children has been greatly strengthened, and principles of divine truth
and Christian life have been received through your teaching, which will
be of great good for _many many_ years to come. I rejoice with hundreds
of others here, that God has led you to these shores, to teach us the
way of God more perfectly. May the Lord wonderfully sustain you and your
good wife, in your labours from place to place. You will have the
prayers of a host of brethren beloved, who will henceforth have a great
interest in you personally, and a still deeper interest in the cause of
our dear Lord which you are labouring to promote.--With much love and
gratitude for your faithful services, I am
"YOUR BROTHER IN CHRIST,
* * * *."
That night at 8 o'clock, Mr. Mueller preached for the first time at San
Jose, at the Methodist Episcopal Church, where, though it was Saturday
evening, there was a large congregation. He preached also on the morning
and evening of Sunday the 19th, to crowded audiences at the same Church.
At the close of the latter meeting, numbers of friends came forward to
shake hands with us, who, in the warmest terms, expressed delight at our
visit to their city. "San Jose is in the middle of the Santa Clara
Valley; and, in consequence of its healthful climate, which is a medium
between the cold winds of the coast, and the hot valleys of the
interior, is much resorted to by invalids. One street is occupied
entirely by French inhabitants, and another quarter only by Chinese."
During our stay there, on May 20th, we took a drive through Alameda
Valley, to Santa Clara, a beautiful little town three miles distant,
which contains several Churches, Schools, and the Pacific University.
Here Mr. Mueller preached twice; and besides the inhabitants of Santa
Clara, several persons from San Jose came over to attend the meetings;
but we remained one night only, and late on the evening of the 21st
returned to San Jose.
The next morning a letter arrived from San Francisco, written by a lady,
who earnestly commended her only daughter to our prayers. This young
person was converted at the age of 15, but two years afterwards became a
prey to the delusions of Spiritualism, to which she clung tenaciously
for nine years. At San Francisco, however, she heard Mr. Mueller preach
several times, and was so impressed by one sermon in particular, that
her poor mother fully hoped she would be restored to soundness in the
faith. She wrote--"You are the first person who has found the way to her
heart for these nine years. She crossed the Bay last Sunday morning to
hear you, and says she would not have lost that sermon for 100 dollars.
Oh! _how much_ I wish you could see her! but, as you cannot, what I want
is, that you will make her case a special subject of prayer. She is
dearer to me than my own life, and I would be willing to die a thousand
deaths to save her. Oh! help by your prayers.--Mrs. ----."
Early on the morning of May 22nd, we went by rail to Stockton, 70 miles
from San Jose, where, at 3 in the afternoon, Mr. Mueller addressed 22
pastors, and about 130 other Christian workers for an hour and ten
minutes, and, during our short stay, held two other meetings. At
Stockton the heat became oppressive, and walking out of doors in the
middle of the day was given up. There, too, at night we had terrible
conflict with the mosquitos; but though we killed them by the score,
could do very little in the way of exterminating the foe, so that our
visit to Stockton was marked by a regular mosquito war. Our rest at
night was so disturbed, that we were scarcely fit for travelling; but,
having been repeatedly advised by several Christian friends, on no
account to leave California without visiting the celebrated Yosemite
Valley, in that State; and as my husband desired to have a little break
for a few days, after so much constant preaching; on May 24th, at 8 a.m.
we left by train for Milton, 30 miles from Stockton. There, a large,
old-fashioned conveyance, combining coach and omnibus together, was
waiting for the passengers, into which we, and several others stepped;
and--drawn by four horses--were driven off towards the Sierra Nevada
mountains. For some miles our road lay across an open plain, without
houses, where the scanty vegetation was nearly burned up by the sun's
scorching rays, and what little wind there was resembled a sirocco; but,
after a drive of fourteen miles, we arrived at Copperopolis--so called
from the quantity of copper ore found there. At one o'clock, after
changing horses, we left Copperopolis--reached Chinese Camp, eighteen
miles further, at 4; and, after getting into a smaller conveyance, at 6
o'clock continued our journey, with only one gentleman passenger besides
ourselves. Though often told that travelling by Californian stage-waggon
would prove an adventure _never_ to be forgotten, scarcely were we
prepared for the unpleasant jolting that now awaited us. Our coachman
drove furiously. Rough and smooth, hill and dale, all were alike to him.
Now we were driven over one great stone, and then came into collision
with another; and as for a drag, going down hill, such a thing was never
thought of. The man was doubtless an experienced driver, or at any rate
he was a fearless one; but, being ourselves sober-minded persons,
unaccustomed to such "go ahead" proceedings, we should have been
thankful to take things more quietly; and besides this, desired greatly
to reach our journey's end, with no bruises and without broken bones.
Through the Lord's kindness, however, we reached Priest's Hotel (on a
high hill, twelve miles from Chinese Camp) in safety, where we alighted
for the night; and, after a journey of eleven hours and a half, retired
immediately to rest. Our room was small, and reminded us of the little
apartment we occupied at the Hospice on Mount St. Gothard, Switzerland,
but it was comfortable, and not a single mosquito was there to disturb
our night's repose.