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}