Chapter I

Departure for the Mines--The Victims--Adventures of a Night on San
Francisco Bay--Voyage in a Launch--My Companion
Higgins--Resolutions of the Passengers--The Bay of San Pablo--The
Straits of Carquinez--Benicia--The Bay of Suisun--The
Sacramento--Beautiful Scenery--Montezuma--Monte Diablo--Camp on
Shore--Hala-chum-muck--Firing the Woods--Schwartz’s Rancho--A
“manifest destiny” Man--Involuntary Baptism--Sacramento City--The
Embarcadero.

Armed with a pickaxe, shovel, hoe, and rifle, and accoutred in a red flannel shirt, corduroy pants, and heavy boots, and accompanied by two friends, I found myself, on the afternoon of the 25th of October, 1848, wending my way to the only wharf in San Francisco, to take passage for the golden hills of the Sierra Nevada. The scenes that for days had met my eyes, and even as I was stepping on board the launch, might have damped the ardour of a more adventurous man. Whole launch-loads of miserable victims of fever and ague were daily arriving from the mining region--sallow, weak, emaciated and dispirited--but I had nerved myself for the combat, and doubt not that I would have taken passage when I did and as I did, had the arch-enemy of mankind himself stood helmsman on the little craft that was to bear me to El Dorado. We had engaged and paid our passage, and such was our eagerness to get a conveyance of some kind, that we had not even looked at the frail bark in which we were to entrust our now more than ever before valuable bodies.

The “Ann” was a little launch of about ten tons burden, a mere ship’s boat, entirely open, and filled with barrels and merchandise of every kind, and eight human beings, who, besides ourselves, had taken passage in her. I looked at her,--there was not room upon her deckless hull to stow a brandy bottle securely. We tried to reason the captain into an idea of the danger of proceeding with so much freight, but the only reply he gave us was, that “he received four dollars a hundred for it.” There was no alternative, so in we jumped, and about dusk the boat was under way, and scudding with a fair wind across the bay of San Francisco.

There was, of course, no room to cook on board, and there was no galley or furnace to cook in; and, indeed, there was nothing to cook, as in our hurry we had neglected to make purchases of any necessary articles of food, and expected to be furnished with our meals among the other accommodations of our boat. The captain generously offered us some cheese and crackers, and after regaling ourselves on these, we commenced instituting a search for sleeping-places. It was by this time dark, and black clouds were sweeping over the sky. The wind had changed, and we were beating off and on Angel Island, while the spray was dashing over our boat’s sides, which were nearly level with the water from her great load. It augured anything but a pleasant night, and here were eleven of us, with a prospect of rain and spray, forced to find some means of sleeping on the pile of barrels or boxes that loaded the boat, or pass a night of sleeplessness.

Sharper-sighted than my companions, I had spied out a box of goods lying aft that rose above the mingled mass around it, and upon which, by doubling myself into a most unnatural and ungentlemanly position, I could repose the upper portion of my body, while my heels rested on the chines of a pork-barrel, at an angle of about forty-five degrees above my head. With a selfishness peculiar to the human race, I appropriated the whole of this couch to myself, and was already in the land of dreams, with bright visions of “big lumps” and bigger piles of gold flitting before my spiritual eyes, when I felt myself roughly shaken, and awaking, found Higgins, one of my companions, standing at my side, who coolly informed me that “my time was up, and it was now his turn.” It seems that, during my absence in the visionary world, a council had been held by all hands, in which it was gravely decided and resolved, _First_, “that there was no other feasible sleeping-place than the box then occupied by me;” _Secondly_, “that it was contrary to the laws of all human society, that one man should appropriate to his own private and individual use _all_ of this world’s goods;” and _Thirdly_, “that, for the next twenty-four hours, all hands should in rotation take a nap upon the box.” When Higgins woke me, the rain-drops were pattering upon my “_serape_,” and half asleep I jumped up, and going forward, found a little place where I could half lie down; and in this manner, with the rain-drops and surf dashing upon me, and every roll of the little boat threatening to cast me upon the waters, I passed that night on the bay of San Francisco,--a night which I shall never forget. My companions and fellow-sufferers, when not occupying the box, were either catching an occasional wink in a perpendicular position, or sitting upon the chines of a barrel, wishing with all their hearts for daylight.

Morning at length came, as morning always will, even after the longest night, and the warm sun soon was shining upon us, and drying our wet clothing, and invigorating our dampened spirits. We had passed, during the night, out of the bay of San Francisco into that of San Pablo. This bay is about ten miles in diameter, its form being nearly circular. Its entrance is about eight miles from the town of San Francisco, and is marked by two rocky islands known as the “Two Brothers,” lying a few yards from each other, and white with birdlime. The usual channel is on the left of these rocks. From the bay of San Pablo we entered the straits of Carquinez, thirty-five miles from San Francisco, and at about noon we were abreast of the town of Benicia.

The straits of Carquinez are about one mile in width, and six in length, and connect the bay of San Pablo with that of Suisun. Near the head of the straits and the entrance to Suisun Bay, is placed the city of Benicia. This town was the first laid out among the new towns of California, and many months before the discovery of the mines gave a tremendous impetus to town making. Benicia seems destined to become a great city, and perhaps rival San Francisco in point of commercial importance,--possessing, as it unquestionably does, many advantages over it. The banks are bold and steep, and sufficient depth of water is found here at all seasons for vessels to lie and discharge their cargoes directly at the bank; while at San Francisco the tide only serves once in twenty-four hours, and even then all cargoes are obliged to be transported in launches and scows from the ships, which are forced to lie at some distance from the shore, in consequence of the broad flat in front of the town.

Leaving Benicia, we proceeded into the bay of Suisun, and passing the delta of the San Joaquin, entered the magnificent Sacramento, the Hudson of the western world. The lofty Palisades are not here; but to the lover of the picturesque and beautiful, the tall oak groves, through which the deer, the elk, and antelope are bounding, the golden hue of the landscape, the snowy peaks of the distant Sierra, the lofty Mount Diablo, and the calm, broad, and placid river, present a scene upon the Sacramento as enchanting as that which broke upon the enraptured vision of old Hendrick Hudson. At the entrance of the river the land is low and somewhat marshy, being covered with a thick, rank growth of _tule_, a species of rush, of which the Indians make baskets, chairs, and many little articles. On the left bank of the entrance to the Sacramento was the magnificent city of Montezuma, consisting of one unfinished house, through which the autumn winds were rattling. This is one of the paper towns laid out some three years since, and abandoned since the discovery of the _placers_ has brought out more favourable points of location. The Sacramento here is about a mile in width; and to the right, rising up apparently from the end of the _tule_ prairie, is the rugged peak of Monte Diablo (Devil’s Mountain), four thousand feet in height. The low, alluvial bottom lands along the shore appear susceptible of the highest cultivation; and I doubt not, when the gold mania shall have partially ceased, the rich bottoms of the Sacramento will be clothed with farm-houses, the abodes of happiness, peace, and plenty, and that the music of lowing herds will resound over its spreading prairies.

At the mouth of the river there is very little timber; but in our progress upward we found the oak and the sycamore growing most luxuriantly; and, extending back on the left bank as far as the eye could reach, a spreading prairie of wild oats and mustard, the latter raising its yellow-flowered head to the height of many feet. We “tied up” for the night about four miles from the entrance of the river, and building a large fire on shore, and cooking some potatoes and pork, with which the captain generously furnished us, determining to spend this night stretched upon a level, went to sleep around the camp fire, and made good ere morning for our previous night’s misery, and slept in utter disregard of the wolves and grizzly bears which abound in that region.

The next day, there being no wind, we were obliged to pull for it, and about dusk reached Hala-chum-muck, or, as it is now called, “Suisun,” a city under that cognomen having been laid out here. The “city” is on the left bank of the river, and about fifteen miles from its mouth, on a bold, high bank, and surrounded by a fine growth of oak timber. Hala-chum-muck is an old stopping-place on the river; and finding the remains of a house here, we “tied up,” and going on shore, and making a fire from the remnants of some boards, which had been pulled from the roof of the house, cooked another supper, and slept on the ground, with a small piece of roof over our heads.

Hala-chum-muck derives its name from an Indian story connected with it. Many years ago, a party of hunters were encamped here for the night, and being attacked by Indians, after a brave resistance were all killed, with the exception of one, who, as he was escaping, was followed with a cry from the Indians of “Hala-chum-muck” (nothing to eat), probably, as he had been forced to throw down his rifle, signifying thereby that they would leave him to die of starvation. The spot has, ever since that time, borne the name of “Hala-chum-muck.”

There were three families living here, with a stock of cattle, when the _placers_ were discovered, and Hala-chum-muck was bidding fair to be a town; but on the reception of the golden news, they deserted their ranchos, and the crews of launches which stopped here soon killed off the cattle and destroyed the dwellings. Lots in Suisun, however, are now selling rapidly, and at high rates.

We continued our progress up the river, occasionally stopping and amusing ourselves by firing the woods on either side, and watching the broad flames as they spread and crackled through the underbrush. On the night of the 30th, we hauled up at the rancho of Schwartz--an old German, of whom Bryant speaks as a man who has forgotten his own language, and never acquired any other. He is certainly the most curious specimen of humanity it was ever my lot to witness. He emigrated to California some ten years since, and obtained a grant of six leagues of land, extending up and down the Sacramento River; and in the progress of time he will probably be one of the richest land-holders of California. He has built upon the bank of the river a little hut of _tule_, resembling a miserable Indian wigwam; and there he lives, a “manifest destiny” man, with “masterly inactivity” awaiting the march of civilization, and anticipating at some future day the sale of his lands for a princely fortune--a hope in which he will probably not be disappointed. His language is a mixture of his old mother German, English, Spanish, French, and Indian; and it would require an apter linguist than it was ever my good fortune to meet with, to comprehend his “lingua.”

I underwent an operation at Schwartz’s rancho, that sealed my full connexion and communion with the region to which I was travelling. It was no less than an impromptu baptism in the golden waters of the Sacramento. We had built a fire on shore, and having purchased from Schwartz a few pounds of beef at gold-digger’s price, _i.e._ one dollar per pound, had eaten our supper, when I started for the launch, which lay about ten yards from the shore, to get my blankets. The only conveyance was an old log canoe of Schwartz’s; and seating myself in it, in company with one of my companions and an Indian boy he had brought with him, we pushed off. The Indian was seated in the canoe’s bow, and was frightened by the oscillating motion given to it, when it was first pushed off from the shore. To balance the roll upon one side, he leaned to the other, and finding a corresponding motion in that direction, he reversed his position, and leaning too far, upset the canoe, and all three of us. I, with a heavy overcoat on, and my rifle in hand, tumbled into about fifteen feet of water. I dropped the rifle as though it were boiling lead, and made the best of my way to the shore. We all arrived safely on _terra firma_, and going on board alone in the canoe, I changed my clothing. Telling old Schwartz that I must encroach upon his hospitality, and drinking about a pint of some coloured New England rum, which he assured me was “de tres best clasa de brandy,” I stretched my blankets on the mud floor of his wigwam, and awoke in the morning in as good health and spirits as though nothing had happened. I engaged the services of a Kanaka, who was on board, to dive for my rifle; and after he had brought it up, we got under way, and after sleeping another night on the banks of the Sacramento, reached the “Embarcadero,” now Sacramento City, on the evening of November 2d. The river here is about eight hundred feet wide.

The beautiful plain on which is now located the thriving and populous city of Sacramento, was, when I first landed there, untenanted. There was not a house upon it, the only place of business being an old store-ship laid up upon its bank. Where now, after a lapse of only one year, a flourishing city with a population of twelve thousand stands, I pitched my tent on the edge of a broad prairie.

To complete the party with which we intended going to the mines, we were obliged to wait at the Embarcadero for three of our disbanded soldiers, who had left the Pueblo de los Angeles about the time we did, and were coming by land through the Tularè valley, as we required their horses to pack the provisions we had brought with us.

We pitched our tent, cooked our provisions, and anxiously waited the arrival of the men, a prey to the greatest excitement,--continually hearing as we did, the most extravagant stories from the mining region. The intense heat of the summer solstice had given way to autumn’s cooling breezes, and parties were daily arriving at and leaving the Embarcadero; the former with their pockets well lined with gold dust, and the latter with high hopes and beating hearts.