SIXTEEN MONTHS

                                AT THE

                            GOLD DIGGINGS.

                                  BY

                           DANIEL B. WOODS.

                               NEW YORK:

                    HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
                           82 CLIFF STREET.
                                 1852.




    Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand
                    eight hundred and fifty-one, by
                            LEONARD WOODS,
   In the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the Southern
                         District of New York.




PREFACE.


It is almost inconceivable what an excitement was produced upon nations
and individuals by the discovery, less than four years since, of gold
among the mountains of Upper California. Tides of human life soon set in
toward this one point; currents here met, whirling and contending with
increasing force; and, where all was silent and calm before, was heard
the roar, and seen the violence and agitation of the maelstrom.

The writer was for sixteen months employed in the gold mines, chiefly
upon the American and Tuolumne Rivers and their tributaries. His reasons
for compiling his notes and presenting them to the public may be briefly
stated. It was the request of several friends that he would keep a
journal of his mining life, exhibiting its lights and shades, its
fortunes and misfortunes. This he did, jotting down from day to day the
incidents as they occurred. Many mining companions, aware of this fact,
requested him to prepare his journal for the press, that their friends
might thus have a view of their circumstances and employments.

Having so long been a miner, and acquainted with all his privations and
sufferings; having experienced his elation at success and his
depression at failure; having passed through the trying season of
acclimation, and lain once beneath a lone oak, expecting, as he looked
up to the stars shining clear above him, there to end his days; having
rocked the gold-digger’s cradle, wielded his pick and spade, messed and
slept with miners, he is prepared to present a correct view of his
subject for those who have friends at the mines.

He considers that it will be proper to present incidents of travel on
his journey to California, in connection with the more important object,
both to afford a view of the dangers and difficulties of the earlier
emigrants to this country, and also to maintain the unity of his plan.

He hopes to make this little volume useful to those who are, or who
expect to be, engaged in the arduous employments of mining. If any shall
be encouraged to perseverance--especially if any young men who shall be
thus thrown into circumstances where immorality and vice are so
prevalent, and to which many give themselves up too easy victims, shall
be put upon their guard, his best wishes will have been accomplished. He
recalls, with sadness, the case of a merchant of education and
refinement, who left a large circle of friends and a young family. With
bright hopes he started for the gold placers. Disheartened by several
failures, depressed at his separation from his family, he sought in the
social cup to forget his sorrows and disappointments. Within three
months from the time he arrived in the country he became a subject of
_mania a potu_, and died in the streets of San Francisco. The path of
vice in California lies not through the ordinary influences of life; it
leads not, as elsewhere, through a long course. It lies rather on an
inclined plane, and speedily runs down into despair and ruin.

I intend to make this volume a miner’s manual, in which he may find
important directions relating to the various mining operations.

Another motive with the writer is the desire to induce all who are doing
_well enough_, who are living within their means and laying by a little,
to remain satisfied at home. The question is often asked, _Who should go
to the mines?_ It is very sure that a man with a family depending upon
his daily efforts should not go. He should not exhaust his slender
means, and run himself in debt, with the hope of making himself
independent in one or two years. Let such a one, who is inclined to do
this, picture to himself his wife struggling alone with poverty or
sickness, his children left without a father’s presence and love to
guide and protect, and himself a homeless wanderer, subjected to the
privations, hardships, and sickness incident to such a vagrant life.

Let the young man go, if he will, who has no family depending upon
him--who has a strong constitution, and stronger moral courage; who is
sober and persevering; who has little prospect of making a comfortable
living at home, and who can make up his mind to spend five years from
it, and to enjoy as few comforts as did Diogenes. To such a one there
may be some comfort in even a miner’s life. He has not, like the man of
family in a similar condition, to experience how much the heart can
bear and not break--to live only in the future, while he

    “Drags at each remove a lengthening chain.”

His is not the history of an _exile heart_. He may enjoy the rest of the
laboring man beneath God’s own glorious canopy. The hardships which he
endures in this, the _gold-age_ of his life, may make him more satisfied
with his situation when he returns home, while the troubles which once
annoyed him will not there be experienced.

                                                       DANIEL B. WOODS.

_Philadelphia, July 1, 1851._




SIXTEEN MONTHS

AT

THE GOLD DIGGINGS.




CHAPTER I.

GEOGRAPHY AND HISTORY.


California extends from Oregon to Sonoma and Lower California, and from
the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific. It shows a coast-front extending ten
degrees of latitude, from the thirty-second to the forty-second
parallel. To the voyager it presents only high and forbidding
headlands--mountain ranges which step down from the broad table-lands in
the interior, and push a bold foot far out into the waters of the ocean.

This country possesses 420,000 square miles, and is remarkable for its
lofty ranges of mountains, among which lie interspersed limited but
beautiful valleys and more extensive plains. Its diversity of climate
and soil is as great as the varieties of its surface.

The channel which forms the entrance into this singular country from the
Pacific is two miles in width and three in length, and is opposite,
under the same parallel of latitude, to the Straits of Gibraltar. After
passing through this channel, the lowest of the series of bays, that of
San Francisco, opens broadly before you, dotted with several islands
clothed with verdure, and rocks white with their coating of guano,
around and upon which hover and settle immense flocks of sea-fowls.
Above the ranges of hills, in the east, rises the distant Sierra,
crowned till July with its winter snows. The bay opposite the city is
twelve miles wide, and, with the bays above, contains anchorage ground
sufficient to accommodate every vessel, from the ship of war down to the
schooner, in the whole world. In the north, the bay contracts into a
narrow passage, and opens soon into a second spacious bay, ten miles in
diameter. Still another strait connects this bay with a third,
containing numerous islands, and receiving, at its head, the waters of
the Sacramento and the San Joaquin. These, with the Colorado, are the
principal rivers of California.

The mountain ranges may be briefly described. Fifty miles from the
barren and sandy shore of the Pacific, and running parallel with it, is
the coast-range, well defined, but not so elevated as the other more
remarkable range. This is the Sierra Nevada, or Snowy Range, which bears
its lofty peaks, covered even into summer with snow, far into the sky.
This range is one hundred and fifty miles farther inland, and also runs
parallel with the coast.

Within all this lies the available portion of California, which consists
of several fertile valleys, among which I shall notice particularly
those of San Juan, and of the Sacramento and San Joaquin. The former is
of limited extent, being not more than twenty miles long by twelve
wide, but of great fertility. This may be regarded as the garden of
California. There can not be found a more salubrious or more equable
climate in any part of the world. It is said to resemble that of
Andalusia, in Spain. This valley is situated between the coast-range and
the Pacific, and extends from the Bay of San Francisco north and south.

The valley of the Sacramento and the San Joaquin lies between the
coast-range and the Sierra Nevada. It may be considered as one
continuous valley, the two rivers uniting their waters at the head of
the bays. It extends in length from about the forty-first parallel of
latitude, three hundred miles to the delta of the Sacramento, and thence
to the head waters of the San Joaquin. Over this whole region is found
scattered the evergreen oak, resembling the trees of an old
apple-orchard, and upon the ridges grows the red-wood. A fine growth of
pine is found among the mountains.

All the tributaries of the Sacramento and the San Joaquin rise among the
Sierra Nevada. It is of importance to have the position of these well
understood. The first branch worthy of note in descending the Sacramento
is called Feather River. Bear Creek and the Yuba are streams emptying
into this river. The American River is another branch of the Sacramento,
fed by those streams named North, Middle, and South Forks. In proceeding
south up the San Joaquin, the Stanislaus is the first river of note. The
next branch is the Tuolumne, and then the Merced--the Rio de los
Mercedes of Old California, and abbreviated into Mercey by the miners.
Higher up are the Marepoosa, King’s, and some smaller rivers. All these
are rapid, clear mountain streams, containing abundant supplies of the
finest salmon. The Sacramento and the San Joaquin have no tributaries on
the lower or western side.

Still within these interior limits last described lies a comparatively
narrow belt of land, difficult of access, guarded by a thousand dangers
and privations, yet possessing all the extraordinary and magical
influence of Aladdin’s cave, and realizing our boyhood’s dreams when we
filled our hats with the shining coins. This--the heart of the
country--is the true, the mysterious _California_--the shrine at which
tens of thousands of weary and exile pilgrims do homage, and where
already great multitudes have left their bones. This is
_California_--the country lately an uninviting wilderness, where the
Indian and the bear disputed possession, now, all along its streams,
upon its bars, in its gulches and ravines, covered with the tented home
of the miner, while its hill sides echo back ten thousand eager voices,
the din of innumerable picks and shovels, and the scraping and grating
sounds of a thousand cradles incessantly rocked, emptied, and refilled.

Let us attempt a description.

Between the Sierra Nevada on the east, and the Sacramento and San
Joaquin on the west, and at about twenty-five miles distance from both,
are the foot or lower hills of the Nevada. These foot-hills embrace, or
rather constitute, the gold region. They are perfectly defined upon the
lower side, where they rise abruptly from the level plain below. Upon
the upper side they are irregular, often running up toward the
mountains, and rising to an elevation of three or four thousand feet.
This belt of land is five hundred miles in length and fifty in width. It
is traversed by the tributaries of the Sacramento and the San Joaquin
which have been mentioned. These streams, rising in the Sierra Nevada,
and flowing west, cut their channels through these foot-hills. They also
receive, in their progress, the arroyos from a thousand springs, which
burst out over all this enchanted region. These creeks and rivulets,
sometimes gliding smoothly along to their meeting, and sometimes
becoming impetuous mountain torrents, form the world-renowned ravines
and gulches of the California gold diggings. During the prevalence of
some great freshet, or other cause sufficient to produce such an effect,
these streams are sometimes pushed out of their former channels, which
instead are filled up, sometimes to the depth of thirty or even forty
feet, with a loose foreign soil. Such placers constitute many and the
most important of the “dry diggings,” which sometimes spread themselves
out over valleys to some considerable extent, and were doubtless formed
by washings from the hills in the vicinity.

The “river diggings” include the bars and auriferous portions of the
channels of the tributaries of the Sacramento and San Joaquin, during
their passage through the foot-hills.

Though the broad belt of ground which has been here described is named
the gold region, it is by no means to be supposed that the precious
metal is found equally distributed over its surface, as if it had
rained down, or been thrown broadcast by some volcanic action over the
whole country. The placers where the auriferous dust is found are, in
comparison with the whole extent of the country so named, exceedingly
limited. The miner often travels many miles over this region--he wanders
for days along its river banks and over its bars, and turns aside into
some of its numerous ravines--he often pauses to examine spots which
appear to him favorable, and with his pick, shovel, and knife--always
his companions--digs his fifty holes, testing each with his pan, without
success. And even when he comes to the favored bar or placer from which
many pounds of gold may have been taken, there is perhaps one chance in
fifty in favor of his collecting any considerable amount of gold. Upon
these very localities thousands of industrious miners barely make their
living. The hopeful miner eagerly hastens, with high expectations, to
the diggings. He chooses his bar, and marks off a claim; this he
faithfully “prospects,” then abandons it for another and another, till
he comes to the conclusion that the whole business is a lottery.

The primitive formations prevailing through the gold diggings are the
soft granite and the talcose slate. The superstrata are various, and
depend upon the formations in the hills adjoining. The first in
importance, as being intimately combined with the gold, is the quartz.
This is found in broken fragments, from the fine pebbles to the huge
masses, over the whole surface of the country. It is often seen crowning
the hill-tops, and sometimes is found in veins in the valleys. There
can be no doubt that the quartz and the gold were formed in combination.

This is now so universally admitted as not to require to be
substantiated. It is also placed beyond a doubt that the gold of the
mines has been attrited, and taken to the various deposits by the action
of water; and the gold is found in coarser or finer particles, according
as it is exposed to a greater or less degree of this action. In some
cases, the gold has been found running in veins, more or less rich,
through the quartz, and so closely combined that they must be reduced to
powder before they can be separated. With but few exceptions, however,
the working of these veins has not proved profitable.

Perhaps there is no part of my whole subject so difficult to be
described as the climate of California. One cause of this is, that it is
so different in various parts of the state, and in the same part during
the various seasons. In general there are two seasons--a wet and a dry.
The first commences about the middle of October, and continues to the
first or middle of April. It must not be supposed that there is rain
continually during this season. My journal exhibits the following
statistical results:

In October, 1849, it rained two days--the 9th and 10th.

In November, 1849, it rained fourteen days--cloudy three days.

In December, 1849, it rained eight days--cloudy three days, and snow one
day.

In January, 1850, it rained seventeen days--cloudy one day, and snow
three days.

In February, 1850, it rained four days--cloudy three days, and snow
three days.

In March, 1850, it rained nine days--cloudy three days, and snow one
day.

In April, 1850, it rained one day--April 5th.

During the months of October, November, and December, 1849, and of
January, 1850, the mean average temperature indicated by the thermometer
was as follows:

At sunrise, 36°.

At noon, 50°.

Lowest at sunrise, 23°.

Highest at sunrise, 48°.

Lowest at noon, 40°.

Highest at noon, 50°.

In February, 1850, in the morning, 36°.

In February, 1850, at noon, 62°.

In March, at morning, 39°.

In March, at noon, 58°.

The Hon. T. Butler King estimates, in his report to government, that the
soil west of the Sierra Nevada covers an area of between fifty and sixty
thousand square miles, and is capable of supporting a population equal
to that of Ohio or New York at the present time. A large portion of this
land, although fertile, can not be cultivated, owing to the drought. The
portion of the soil capable of irrigation is comparatively small, and
lies upon the rivers and streams.

The products of this state are various. The climate and soil are well
suited to the cultivation of wheat, rye, barley, and oats, the last of
which grows spontaneously over the whole length of the sea-coast, and
for many miles into the interior. Irish potatoes, turnips, onions, and
beets are produced in great perfection. The various fruits are
cultivated with facility.

It is not the design of this work to give a history of California
previous to the discovery of its gold. But it may be proper, in
connection with the geography of the country, to present a brief history
of the mines and the operations of the miners.

In the spring of the year 1848, Mr. Sutter employed two men to make an
exploring tour along the branches of the American River, where it passes
through the foot-hills already described, to find a growth of pine
timber, and a suitable site for a mill for sawing it into boards. The
site and the timber were found upon the south branch of that river.
Little dreamed those day-laborers, as they broke ground for their rude
mill, in that solitary wilderness, that the results of that day’s labor
would give employment to thousands and tens of thousands of such
implements as they then used; that the one spadeful of red dirt, at
which they gazed so intently, at the bottom of which a few yellow bits
of shining dust appeared, was soon to exert a mysterious, a profound
influence upon the commerce, the welfare, the destinies of the whole
human family. An influence was about to go forth from that narrow ditch
which would return again, and bring with it an innumerable multitude,
thronging from every quarter of the world, overcoming all difficulties,
bringing with them their houses and supplies, and spreading themselves
over the hills and valleys of this country. That moment was an epoch in
the world’s history. It was the discovery of GOLD; and, which is of far
more importance, it was the _planting of the_ ANGLO-SAXON _upon the
shores of the Pacific_.

At this time California contained but fifteen thousand people. The belt
of gold country was comparatively uninhabited, and entirely without
supplies of provisions, except such as might be procured by the rifle of
the hunter, and as entirely destitute of shelter. In a few weeks after
the 1st of June, 1848, it is estimated that there were five thousand
miners. As they came generally without provisions, these commanded an
exorbitant price. At the time Rev. Alcalde Colton visited the mines,
which was some time after the discovery, flour sold for $4 the pound,
sugar and coffee at $4, a tin pan $6, laudanum $1 the drop, rum $20 a
quart, and picks sold at $18 each. It was not until the summer and fall
of 1849 that the American emigration began to arrive. They came across
the plains, through Mexico, by the Isthmus, and around the Horn; and
before the winter it was calculated that there were fifty thousand
engaged in this business. During this season the miners extended
themselves along many of the streams and through many of the ravines of
the gold region. The provisions were scanty and unsuitable. Very few
vegetables, and little fresh meat, were to be purchased at any price.
Flour and pork were the staples, which were sold at $1 the pound till
the rainy season commenced, when they sold for $2. A few bottles of
pickles which reached the mines were sold at $6 and $8 the bottle. In
the winter good boots brought $96, and ordinary $32 and $64.

The year 1850 opened more favorably in the supplies furnished at the
mines. It was estimated by Mr. King, who wrote at that time, that during
the year there would be one hundred thousand miners employed. Many of
them had built themselves comfortable log or stone houses--provisions
were more abundant, and at lower rates. Vegetables, fresh meats, and
fish were constantly supplied, many of them from the vicinity of the
mines.

It will be perceived that the statistics which I have prepared of the
profits of mining differs essentially from other published tables. I
have only to say in defense of my own, that they are the result of the
most careful observation and inquiry during sixteen months’ residence in
the mines. They are furnished by individuals most of whom have given
their names and residences in connection with the results of their
labors. The table presents the average profits in their most favorable
aspect, being furnished by a class of industrious and persevering
miners. The winter averages of fifty-six miners in the best of the
southern diggings is $3 26 for each day to each miner.

The summer averages were based upon the operations of mining companies
located upon the most profitable bars of the Tuolumne, and furnished in
every case but one by the secretaries of those companies. The table
gives the result of thirty-five thousand eight hundred and seventy-six
working days, which was bullion valued at $113,633 95, or an average of
$3 16 for each day’s labor to each man.

Hon. T. Butler King, in his report to government, gives the average as
$16 per diem. It is a question of some importance which of these is the
correct estimate. Let us present the aggregate amount of gold taken out
of all the California mines during the year, according to both
estimates. According to that of Senator King, and allowing the year to
have three hundred and thirteen working days, the one hundred thousand
miners would give the sum total of $500,800,000, or over half a billion
dollars yearly, while the average sum would be $5008 to each miner. The
other estimate would average $1004 73, and present the total profits of
the mines for the year as $100,473,000. One would think that the rest of
the world should be satisfied with having picked from the pockets of
this old California miser who has hoarded his treasures so long, nearly
a hundred million of dollars in one year! Half a billion! that would be
taking too much!

Not only is the digging of gold the most uncertain of all employments,
it is also one in which science and all past experience are at fault. No
rules can be given, no evidences furnished for finding the concealed
veins or opening the rich deposits. The miner is not sure of his gold
till he holds it in his hand, and then it seems very difficult for him
to hold on to it. One of our coins is very properly denominated the
eagle, since it seems endued with wings, and is so apt to fly away.




CHAPTER II.

VOYAGE TO CALIFORNIA.


On the 1st of February, 1849, we embarked, at the foot of Arch Street,
Philadelphia, on board the barque Thomas Walters, under command of
Captain Marshman, for Tampico, thence intending to cross Mexico, and,
re-embarking at Mazatlan, to proceed up the Pacific coast to San
Francisco. Our company consisted of about forty persons, known as the
Camargo Company. There were among them men from all the professions and
pursuits in life--young and old, grave and gay, married and unmarried.

After the usual amount of adventures, sea-sickness, and home-sickness,
we arrived at Tampico on the 21st of February, where we were most happy
to exchange the monotony, the junk and other salt provisions, and the
green waves of a sea life, for the pleasing variety, the delicious
fruits and vegetables, and the beautiful fields of a tropical climate.

We must take our readers with us, first to the theatre of Tampico, where
we went, not as spectators, but as actors upon its boards. The first
night after our arrival we appeared upon its stage, performing our parts
in the celebrated farce, the California Gold Diggers--a play which has
since been performed a thousand times, and with unabated interest. To
explain myself, our quarters, while in the city, were in the old
theatre, the various rooms of which we occupied as sleeping and eating
apartments.

This city is pleasantly located upon an elevated promontory, being
almost an island, having the River Panuco on the one side, and a lake
upon the other. It contains about seven thousand inhabitants, many of
whom are Americans. There are several large plazas or public squares,
and some pleasant houses. The American consul, Captain Chase, took us to
the spot where his heroic wife raised the American flag, and maintained
it in spite of the threats of the Mexicans.

The furnishing of such a company as ours with all the horses and mules
necessary for a journey of about eight hundred miles was not to be
accomplished at once. On the morning of the 8th of March, and the
fifteenth day after our arrival, we were mounted on “mustangs,” a small
and hardy horse, peculiarly adapted to the mountains over which we were
to travel, our provisions and clothing being on the backs of mules. All
being ready, we slowly filed out from the hacienda of Mr. Laffler, a
large farmer from Ohio, who was under contract to supply us with animals
to Mazatlan. We had spent some days here preparing for the march, and
amusing ourselves in spearing fish, and in shooting deer and alligators,
being ourselves likewise the sport of innumerable swarms of musquitoes,
ticks, fleas, and jiggers. This latter insect, though very small, is the
occasion, at times, of great inconvenience and suffering. These tropical
insects handled us so cruelly, that we were compelled to write, eat, and
sleep with gloves. To avoid them at night, I encased myself in a bag,
made of cotton, which I drew up over my whole body, then bringing it
around my head. This arrangement proved so much to my advantage that I
continued it during the whole time of my absence.

Upon the march, a _Caballero_, mounted upon his mule, took the lead,
followed by the whole train of draught mules and the attendants. Then
came the guide and the company, sometimes drawn up, under our military
captain, in regular order of march, and sometimes extended out over the
trail as far as the eye could reach. We were advised to keep well
together, and never to dispense with the night-guard, on account of the
guerillas, who would ever be on the watch for an opportunity to attack
us.

For several days our march lay across the level plains of the Tierra
Caliente, the region of perpetual spring, and clothed with verdure.
Having reached the foot-hills of the Sierra Madre, or Andes of Mexico,
one day’s travel brought us up into the temperate region. This was the
lower table-land. The landscape was no longer gay with flowers, but
abounded in immense forests. Here were found the varieties of the
musquite, the stately cypress, and the banyan. The whole undergrowth was
a thorny thicket, in which the prickly pear and the cactus predominated.
After traveling a day over this region, we came to a valley, into which
we descended, and where, in the midst of a fertile country, we entered
Villa de Vallee. This town contains a cathedral in ruins, which, like
those of many of the towns of Mexico, were partially destroyed at the
time of the revolution, and have never since been repaired. One of the
wings was occupied as a chapel, while the residence of the _Padre_ was
in a kind of shed behind.

A letter from Bishop Kendrick, of Philadelphia, which he kindly sent me
as I was about leaving home, procured me every attention here. This
general letter of introduction, written in the Latin language, gained
for me much valuable information from the priests of Mexico. The
assistance, and in some cases the protection, which it secured to our
whole company, can not be overrated. It is as follows:

     “Nos Franciscus Patricius Kendrick, Dei et Apostolicæ Sedis Gratia,
     Episcopus Philadelphiensis Universis has litteras inspecturis notum
     facimus et testamur Danielem B. Woods, in Statu Massachusetts
     natum, et per aliquot annos hujus urbis incolam, civem esse
     spectabilem moribus, et fama integra, quem suorum negotiorum causa
     alio migrantem, omnibus commendamus, ut si qua indiguerit opera
     amica, ea fruatur.

     “In quorum fidem has litteras dedimus Philadelphiæ die XXX. mensis
     Januarii anno MDCCCXLIX.

                                      “FRANCISCUS PATRICIUS, Ep. Phil.”



Padre Calisti endorsed this letter in Spanish.

The houses of Villa de Vallee were of one story, and generally made of
mud-bricks dried in the sun. The people seemed all poor and very
indolent, the women, as is the case through Mexico, being far superior
to the men in industry and intelligence. We remained here several days
to have our animals shod, a necessary preparation for crossing the
mountains. The day before we left, the padre invited me to dine with
him.

After the animals were made ready, we proceeded over the plains toward
the mountains, some of the peaks of which we could see. Before we
reached these we crossed the Tomwin River at a small town where we
passed the night. The place for the entertainment of travelers was near
the banks of the river, and late in the afternoon we walked out to the
stream, where were gathered men, women, and children, floundering and
bathing in the water. Nor was it long before several of our company were
joining in their wild and gleeful sports.

For some time reports of a revolution in the country about us reached
our ears, and hearing from some villagers that, if we kept on our
course, we should meet the insurgents the next day, we concluded to turn
aside at once into the mountains, though we should thus be compelled to
ascend by a path which is seldom attempted. We were three days in
climbing the mountains and clambering over the rocks--such as I hope not
to see again. Its precipices were fearful. We would sometimes wind our
way up or down the face of a mountain by paths cut in the side, over
which a person might be let down many hundred feet by ropes. It was a
volcanic country, and its conical peaks were surrounded for miles with
scoria and pumice-stone, which tore the shoes from the feet of our
animals, rendering it almost impossible to travel. This was a country
fitted for the ladrones and guerillas. And the frequent crosses planted
by the path told of murders which had been committed here, and where
the traveler was, if so disposed, to offer up prayers for the repose of
the souls of the murdered. We were cautioned to be on our guard, and to
maintain a constant watch at night. But, notwithstanding such cautions,
we were often tempted, for the sake of avoiding the dust, to travel in
advance of the train. In company with a gentleman who was armed as well
as myself, I started on, not expecting to meet our companions again till
we halted for the night. We were about three miles in advance of the
train, and, as we rode around the angle of a large rock near the path,
six or seven men, who were lying there apparently watching for us,
started suddenly to their feet and sprung to our side. Our guns were
fortunately in our hands, and in a position that we could use them; we
were also armed with revolvers and knives at our belts. Seeing that we
were not intimidated by their violent gestures, but were calm and ready,
they soon dropped behind us, and after a time disappeared. These robbers
never attack travelers if every chance is not in their favor. A small
party of five persons belonging to our company were placed in greater
danger even than ours. They were traveling some days before us, and not
far from this same spot. They had been warned at the last town that a
party of twenty guerillas had gone out early in the morning for the
purpose of attacking them. As they rode slowly on, they came in sight of
the robbers, who had chosen well their positions, and were waiting for
them. Five of the twenty-one robbers were stationed in the path, while
the others were divided up into small gangs on each side and in the
rear. All these were mounted but one, who was employed as a runner
between the different parties. The Americans halted, newly capped their
rifles and revolvers, and slowly proceeded on their way. With pale
faces, but undaunted hearts, they rode up to the Mexicans, who, as they
came on, retired and allowed them to pass. When they reached the summit
of a hill a half mile distant, and looked back, the robbers were still
in the same position. The knowledge, on their part, of the certainty, in
case of an encounter, of the death of some of their number, daunted
them.

At length we reached the summit of the table-land, eight thousand feet
above the level of the sea, which spread out a vast plain before us,
from which many lofty volcanic peaks sprung up, attaining to an
elevation of fourteen thousand feet.

Excepting in the valleys, there is but little vegetation upon these
plateaus. And we could not imagine where the supplies for the markets of
the cities could be obtained. For several days our path lay through palm
and palmetto groves. The parasol shade of their small tops was no
shelter from the heat of the sun at noon, but rather increased its
intensity. And the whole day long would come, screaming over us, the
never-ending flocks of parrots. Their cry, to a weary traveler, is
almost intolerable. The cactus, Mexico’s national flower, and emblazoned
upon her coat of arms, and stamped upon her coin, is found here in a
thousand varieties. The beautiful flower itself is often three feet in
height. After leaving these palm groves, we entered upon a very barren
and desolate region. It was a desert of sand and dust, almost without
water. Our mules would raise such a cloud of dust, especially if there
was any wind, as to be nearly suffocating. The great elevation to which
we had attained caused the most disagreeable sensations. On lying down
at night, or rising in the morning, there would be a painful giddiness.
The skin became parched and dry, and the spirits were oppressed. While
traveling over this region, we were overtaken one day by a dust storm,
which was as novel as it was oppressive. It was near night. We saw
before us, which after a time spread out all around us, many wild
whirlwinds which extended up into the sky, carrying with them apparently
solid conical masses of clouds. We counted upward of sixty cones formed
and forming at the same time. As the sun was setting, these extended at
the top, opening something in the form of an umbrella, the cones still
continuing to play up their heaving masses into its expanding bosom,
which presented a most unearthly and terrific appearance. It was the
_blackness of darkness_, which suddenly became illuminated by the lurid
flashes of lightning darting through it, and forming a picture of that
wrath which, we may suppose, broods and bursts over the bottomless pit.
Suddenly its edges closed down around us, snatching away the remaining
light of day, and shrouding us in darkness, like that of Egypt, through
which we groped, calling and shouting to each other, yet not able to see
a yard before us.

    “Eripiunt subito nubes cœlumque, diemque
     Teucrorum ex oculis; ponto nox incubat atra.”

Again a rush was heard, which came nearer and more near, filling us
with dread, till it struck us with the suddenness of a blow. It was as
though all those cones had drawn closer and closer together, till they
were piled into one consolidated mountain of dust, pressed down by the
mass in the air upon our heads. For a time all our efforts to see or to
speak were vain. We could hardly breathe. If we moved at all, it was by
setting our backs against the elements and pushing with all our
strength. There was not a drop of rain; it was a storm of dust--a
_sirocco_. Fortunately for us, we were near the _meson_, which we
entered after being half an hour exposed to its fury, and as it was
abating. Every thing was penetrated by it, and it seemed as though water
could not clean our eyes or our throats.

In the _mesons_, the various apartments for travelers, the stables, the
eating-room, and all the offices, are built around a spacious paved
court, upon which all the windows and doors open. A large gate forms the
entrance, which is closed and bolted at night. The rooms for travelers,
often twenty feet square, are entirely unfurnished. He is to supply his
own bed and bedding, which he spreads out upon a floor which seems never
to have been swept. For his meals he must go to the _fonda_, and order
what he may choose or what they may have. One dish at a time is spread
upon the bare table, which is often furnished with plates, but not often
with knives, forks, or spoons. A variety of soups, made hot with red
pepper, and a slice of bread, forms the first course. Then follows rice,
with thin Indian cakes. Sometimes squash fried in lard is added. A
favorite dessert is the Mexican custard, made of rice or chocolate.
Coffee, wine, or _pulque_, a drink made of the maguey, closes the
entertainment. There are distilleries in the country where the pulque is
converted into a most hateful species of whisky.

In the morning the horses and mules are led out into the court, every
preparation is made, and the travelers take their leave, throwing behind
them their hasty adieus. These mesons in city and country are very
filthy, and much infested with vermin. In one instance we saw a number
of _Tarantulas_--the venomous black spider of the tropics--hanging upon
the walls of our room after we had slept upon its floor.

On the 22d of March we entered San Luis Potosi. This is a large city,
possessing considerable wealth. It is near the silver mines, and
contains a mint.

We saw here, for the first time, a stage-coach. It was up for the city
of Mexico, distant about three hundred miles, which journey is
accomplished in six days, at an expense of $25 for a seat. The coach
consists of a large unwieldy frame, upon which is swung the body, which
is comparatively small.

The ignorance of the Mexicans is equal to their superstition. We were
amused at an instance afforded us in the case of a schoolmaster. While
describing to him the modes of traveling in America, we told him about
the steamers, at which he was not much surprised, having heard of them
before; but when we told him of the rail-road, he listened with the same
incredulity with which the King of Siam heard the missionaries describe
ice; but when we told him of the telegraph, he slowly arose, wrapped
his _serapi_ around him, and moved off, without deigning us a word or a
look.

We were present at a cock-fight, one of the favorite amusements of the
Mexicans in general, and of Santa Anna in particular. A low fence
inclosed the pit, within which were the attendants exhibiting the game
cocks, and the owners who were taking the bets of the spectators. Among
these were several padres, always known by their peculiar dress. The
crowd around exhibited no excitement. Gambling with the Mexicans is a
regular pursuit, and not a means of diversion or excitement. There was
no difference in their appearance, whether they were at church or at
their cock-fights. After all the betting was done, long steel spears,
made very sharp, and three inches in length, were fastened upon the legs
of the cocks, and they were pitted to fight. In the first encounter, one
cock thrust his spear into the breast of the other, which died very soon
after. In the second, two fine cocks were pitted, and more interest than
usual was felt and deeper betting elicited. In less than half a minute,
one was lying dead, the spear of the other being thrust so far through
his head that it was with difficulty withdrawn.

In one of our rambles through the city, we were accosted in the most
remarkable manner by a well-dressed and beautiful sigñorita. She was
seated at a window of one of the houses of the wealthy. As we caught her
piercing black eye, she smiled a cordial greeting, to which one of the
party responded by a respectful “Buenos dias, sigñorita!” Her reply was
a terrible oath, and a most obscene expression in English, and yet there
was that about her manner and tone which denoted that she meant to say
that which was very civil and kind. We were told, when relating the
incident afterward to an Englishman residing in the city, that some
American soldiers very basely amused themselves, while pretending to
teach the sigñoritas our language, by making them repeat just the
expressions we had heard, and other similar ones, as forms of polite
salutation.

We spent two days in the city to give rest to our animals, and then
proceeded on our way toward Guadalaxara. Between these two cities the
country is more uneven. The scenery is often very beautiful. We received
many cautions to be on our guard, as we were to pass through a part of
the country where many depredations and murders had been committed. We
were told of travelers who had been suddenly dragged from their horses
by the lasso, and murdered. One day we witnessed an instance of the
surprising skill of the Mexicans in the use of the lasso. One of the
horses threw his rider, and went galloping off across the plain. In a
moment a muleteer had spurred his mule forward in pursuit, coiling up
his rope as he went. Presently the coil darted through the air, and fell
with unerring aim over the head of the horse, bringing him at once to a
pause.

The most beautiful city we saw in Mexico was Santa Maria de los Lagos.
Its cathedral was grand, towering high above its houses, and, as we rode
through the streets, was inviting, by its chimes, to vespers. This town
appeared to be more thriving and prosperous than any we had seen. The
remark has often been made that the views of the city and its environs,
from the tower of the cathedral, are similar to those of Jerusalem. San
Juan de los Lagos, another city a day’s journey from the former, was
almost equal in beauty. Its cathedral was even more splendid. The first
object which caught our attention, as we were crossing the plaza on
which it fronted, was a woman creeping on her knees toward the steps of
the cathedral, probably as a penance.

It was not without some apprehension, after having heard so much of
guerilla parties, that we saw before us, the day after we left the last
town, a company of armed men coming toward us. We were ordered to
examine our arms, and have them ready for use. They proved to be
government troops, which were marching to meet the insurgents in
Tamaulipas county. At their head were several American deserters, but
not Americans, who were leading along some females by the hand. We also
met a company of “_Volunteers_,” who had just been “pressed” into
service. They were chained together in gangs of ten or more, and were
driven along--the most desperate-looking wretches.

On the 2d of April, 1849, we reached Guadalaxara. This is the second
city in Mexico, and contains a population of 125,000. Some of the
cathedrals have cost millions. Many of the public buildings and squares,
and the palaces of the wealthy, are very beautiful. The interiors of the
cathedrals glistened with their silver shrines, chandeliers, and
railing. The rude floors were covered with kneeling worshipers. The
tones of the bells are very clear and sonorous. This is probably owing
to the large amount of silver used in their composition. This, like the
city of Mexico, is very compact, the streets straight, broad, and well
paved. The houses, with their heavy-grated windows upon the streets, and
their huge door-ways in the centre, gave them the appearance of so many
fortresses. It is behind these walls and gates that the Mexican is
luxurious and extravagant. His house is most gayly furnished, nor does
he spare any expense in procuring that which will please his fancy. The
women never wear bonnets. The covering for the head is called the
_reboso_. This is a kind of scarf, some six feet long and three wide,
which covers the head, and is drawn closely down over the face, and then
crosses in front. It is a very common practice with the Mexican women to
smoke the _cigarrito_.

In this city we were first made rather painfully aware of a custom of
the country, of uncovering the head while passing the front portal of
the cathedral. Two or three stones, well aimed, removed the hats which
our hands should have removed. The streets, as in the cities generally,
are here cleaned by the convicts, who are chained and guarded by
soldiers. As we were passing one of these gangs, I had fallen behind my
companions, and was alone. One of the soldiers came to me, and, saying
“Amigo” (friend), suddenly thrust his hand into my pocket. Supposing
that he wanted tobacco, I told him I had none. While I was speaking,
another soldier put his hand into a pocket on the other side.

Here we witnessed the procession of the Host. The priest, carrying the
sacred emblems, rode in a carriage, followed by a band of music, and
numerous attendants bearing a flag, upon which was painted the likeness
of a lamb, about which were many persons bearing lighted lanterns. Then
came a crowd of citizens. As the procession passed, all in the street
knelt.

One among the many cathedrals we visited greatly interested us. It was
filled with beautiful exotics, brought there from the gardens of the
wealthy in honor of the approaching Easter holidays. As we were passing
through the aisles, examining the flowers, a lady of rank and fortune,
perceiving us, called a lad to her, whispering to him. He went out by a
side door, but soon returned, followed by a venerable-looking priest,
who addressed us in correct English. When he had read Bishop Kendrick’s
letter, he gave us a cordial welcome, and led us into his library, one
of the largest on the continent. This contained many of our own standard
works, and was ornamented by the portraits of distinguished men, among
which we noticed a splendid portrait of Washington. Assuring me we
should want nothing to render our journey agreeable and safe, he sent an
attendant to show us the paintings and treasures of the cathedral.

On the 4th of April we left Guadalaxara, having received notice from an
officer of government that no travelers were permitted to enter or to
leave the city during the Easter solemnities. In a few hours we entered
the wild passes of a very picturesque and mountainous country. The first
time for many days our road led us along over many fine mountain
streams, and through forests, where we began to find our own pine and
oak. “A song for the brave old oak” was heartily responded to by all. As
night set in, we pitched our camp in a narrow defile, surrounded by high
peaks, which we were to ascend on the morrow. The inhabitants seemed as
wild as their country. Every hour our guides were coming to us with
stories of recent robberies and murders, and committed upon the very
spot, perhaps, where we then were. In one deep gorge of the mountains
into which we were passing, we were told that three hundred armed
guerillas awaited us. And, in another place, a few days previous, some
government soldiers had met a large company of robbers, and had
dispersed them, after shooting several of the most desperate. In
corroboration of these stories, we suddenly came upon a scene so
fearfully in keeping with our own excited state of feeling, and the wild
character of the country around us, that we shall never lose the
impression left upon our imaginations. In the midst of a field charred
and blackened by a fire which had passed over it, stood out in bold
relief a gallows, upon which were hanging three mangled and distorted
bodies. There they had hung about six weeks, after having murdered
twenty persons. Over the gallows, which was a painted one, were printed
these words of warning: “Asi Castiga La Ley Al Ladron Y Al Asesino.”

Magdalena is a pleasant town, situated among the mountains, on the banks
of a beautiful lake. Here we saw the first of the dramatic street
representations of the closing scenes in the life of our Savior. These
consisted in enacting each day in their order the events recorded in
Scripture. Most of the day and one entire night were devoted to these
exhibitions, in which all the people participated. In Magdalena the
procession paraded the streets during the night, with torches, and
accompanied by a band performing solemn music. The image of the Savior,
which was Spanish in its features, like all the sacred images of Mexico,
had a bandage over the eyes, and was led away by a band of ruffians, as
if for trial. At a distance the image of the Virgin Mary was borne along
by weeping females. We saw nothing more--not again entering any
town--till the third night, when we reached Tocotes. At this stage in
the series the Savior was represented as borne by the centurions and
soldiers to the tomb. The image was placed in a glass coffin strewed
with flowers. This was borne by men. At a distance was the image of Mary
led by women, her hands folded in an attitude of grief. The cathedral
was decorated with a profusion of flowers, in the midst of which was the
tomb. These tragical scenes were followed, at the close, by a
_fandango_, which is a dance peculiar to the country. It is a lazy
shuffle, accompanied by music upon the guitar, varied occasionally by a
song, in the chorus of which all present join.

During one evening of Easter, soon after we had arrived at the _meson_,
some one came rushing in, informing us that the guerillas had surrounded
us. Seizing our arms, we hastened to the court, where all was
confusion. There were thirty robbers outside the walls. They said that
they were government soldiers, and loudly demanded admittance, asserting
that they came from the alcalde. The proprietor told them they were
ladrones, and refused to admit them. They left soon after, threatening
to return. The alcalde came in much alarmed, and told us that they were
robbers; that the troops of government never traveled during Easter, and
if they did they were bound to report themselves to him. We mutually
pledged ourselves, in case of an attack during the night upon the town
or upon our quarters, to aid the citizens or they us, as the case might
be. We made our preparations for defense, and slept with our arms at our
sides. Nothing more was heard of the robbers. In the vicinity of Tocotes
we crossed over a remarkable mountain. For several hours we were
ascending by zigzag paths, each turn bringing us higher among the
clouds. When we had reached the summit point, we were several thousand
feet above many of our companions and all the mules, a distance of more
than two miles by the road, but in a direct line not more than one
quarter of a mile, for we could distinctly hear the loud talking of the
company and the shouts of the mule-drivers. We looked over the edge of
the precipice, and watched our companions as they wound their way slowly
up. The view was very grand, though it produced a painful giddiness.
Soon after ascending this mountain, our way led us through the crater of
an old volcano. There were the pumice-stone, the scoria, and the charred
and blackened rocks, as though they had but just issued, boiling and
bursting, from the bowels of the earth. We could imagine that we smelt
the sulphurous vapor and felt the volcanic heat arising from the pent-up
fires below, so fresh did the whole field of desolation and ruin appear.
And our imaginations were carried back to the fearfully terrific scenes
which had been enacted here. The descent from the table-land down to the
shores of the Pacific is abrupt and steep. On the 12th of April we
reached San Blas, a dull and unhealthy sea-port. At this place, our
company, which had hung together in fragments, was dissolved. Men alone
are not social beings; and the numerous attempts to bind them together
in California gold-mining associations are as vain as the attempt to
make a rope of sand.

After some delay in making our preparations, we embarked at San Blas on
the 12th of April, in the San Blasiña, a schooner of twenty-three
tons--being thirty-six feet long and twelve wide--for San Francisco. In
this miserable, unseaworthy craft, thirty-eight of us took passage. It
was represented to us that the Pacific was so quiet that it would be
safe to go up in open boats. Alas for our error! Yet it was only too
common. In some instances, emigrants, in their extreme anxiety to
proceed on their way, have embarked in whale boats at Panama, hoping to
reach San Francisco. Our voyage to Mazatlan was most disagreeable. We
were so cramped for room on deck, the hold being filled with bananas,
that three of us slept in a canoe hewed from a log, which was made
secure on deck. The portion of it which I occupied was two and a half
feet long and three and a half wide. There I slept for eight nights. On
the 20th of April we reached Mazatlan, after having been put upon an
allowance of water, and the last day having no water at all. This is an
important sea-port and a fine city. Though it possesses no public
buildings of note, many of the dwelling houses are spacious and
pleasant. Its fine bathing-ground forms its principal attraction. A
small and inferior chapel is the only place of worship, while the
amphitheatre for the bull-fights is a spacious inclosure, capable of
accommodating many hundred persons. This “Plaza de los Toros,” as it is
called, is an amphitheatre covering about one quarter of an acre. Around
this the seats are arranged in tiers. On one side are the pens for the
bulls, on the other the elevated seat of the manager, fancifully
decorated. Large show-bills state the number and qualifications of the
various animals, brute and human, to be brought forward, and invite all
who are so disposed to be present. The Sabbath is generally the day
selected for the spectacle, and on the morning of that day a procession
of the _valiant and brave_, already equipped for the encounter, and
accompanied by martial music, parade the streets. During the pauses in
the music, a crier, in a loud voice, boasts the victories they expect to
achieve. Many of the spectators are females. Nothing but unmingled
disgust and loathing can be excited by the scene. It is a disgraceful
and cowardly butchery, in which the poor animal has not even one chance
of defense or escape.

A great number of Americans were waiting at this place for opportunities
to go to San Francisco. Many of them had exhausted their means, and
were engaging in various employments to raise money to take them
through.

There are about seven millions of inhabitants in Mexico. The rich class
are very wealthy, own most of the land in the country, and live in
palaces in the cities. They are few in number. Among them may be classed
a portion of the priests. The poor class constitute the great majority,
seldom owning any property, and the larger proportion being abjectly
poor.

We took our departure from Mazatlan on May 4th, having spent two weeks
in litigation respecting the schooner, which resulted in favor of the
passengers, and made us, the first time in our lives, _ship-owners_. The
whole had been an unfortunate operation, and we had already paid more
for our passage than the schooner was worth. The owners had _lost_ the
money which had been advanced to them, and were unable to comply with
the terms of the contract, by putting the schooner in sailing order in
Mazatlan. Papers were accordingly made out, giving us undisputed
possession of twenty-three tons burden of shipping. Our captain, a very
old man, had not been to sea for twenty years before this memorable
voyage. I shall presently have to relate an account of the _adroit_
manner in which he upset a boat-load of us to pass half an hour among
the sharks and waves before we could get to land. Our mate was a
Frenchman, and the only skillful sailor among us. He knew that we were
proceeding on a wrong course, and as it was mutiny to put the vessel on
a right course by daylight, as soon as it was dark enough he would put
the “ship about,” so that what we lost in the day we gained in the
night. The rest of the crew were sailors drafted from the passengers. We
were again short of water, and having been unable to procure a supply
along the coast, we anchored off San José, a small town near the cape.
The captain requested me to accompany him on shore. The waves ran very
high, and it was dangerous to attempt a landing, unless under the
guidance of one who understood “surfing a boat.” After every third wave
which breaks upon the shore, there is a lull, short indeed, but of
sufficient length to permit a boat which follows instantaneously upon it
to get beyond the reach of the first wave of the next series. The only
method is to row nearly to the line where the waves show a long white
crest before they break upon the shore, and then to rest upon the oars.
As soon as the third wave has passed, the rowers must urge the boat
promptly and vigorously in. If this one rule is neglected, the
“swamping” of the boat must inevitably be the result. The captain
explained this so accurately that we could not doubt his skill. We had
four stout rowers, breathlessly awaiting the signal upon the brink of
the breakers. But, unfortunately, the signal came between the second and
third waves. We were a hundred yards from the landing. Suddenly we heard
the warning roar, like the low tone of the distant thunder. I looked
behind, and the wave was moving toward us like an impending wall, six
feet above the boat. Suddenly it broke, showing the white crest rapidly
extending itself along as far as the eye could reach. Its first
approach tossed the boat, like a straw, on one side, and instantly the
whole wave came toppling down upon us, burying the boat and three of
those who were in it beneath the rushing tides. I had risen from my
seat, and the wave struck me many feet toward the shore, crushing my hat
over my face and eyes, so that some moments and several waves passed
over me before I could again see. When I was able to look around me, the
captain and one of my companions were swimming for land. The others were
clinging to the keel of the boat, after having been buried beneath it
till they were nearly strangled. Those who were swimming were soon on
shore, the captain so completely exhausted that he sank down into the
water, and was dragged back to the dry sand. In half an hour all were
safe on the beach, grateful for so remarkable a deliverance. Our danger
was greatly increased by the fact that the place was infested with
sharks. The next day, as we were walking along the shore, two fish
darted out of the water, and were instantly followed by two large
sharks, which pursued them high upon the beach. We made several attempts
to double the cape and proceed on our way, but were driven back each
time by heavy head winds. In our third attempt we were becalmed, and
spent the most of the day in rowing our schooner along, which we did at
the rate of three miles an hour. After we had turned in, and were
sleeping upon some water and provision casks in the hold, made level by
laying down sticks of wood and boards between them, a severe gale sprang
up, and drove us at a fearful rate from our course. The sails were
rent, and flapped wildly in the wind. No one but the mate dared to
approach them. He was at the helm, which he lashed down while he drew in
and furled the refractory sails. Our danger was great, and during the
long hours of that night there was little sleep among us. Eight, each
unknown to the others, formed a resolution, that if we lived to reach
the land, we would never again risk our lives in the San Blasiña. Near
the close of the next day, we anchored in a narrow roadstead off the
cape. The mate and many of the passengers went on shore, which was half
a mile distant, taking the torn sails to be mended. The boat was also
hauled up on the beach, and turned over to be caulked. It was near night
of the following day, and we were all scattered over the beach and in
the village, when alarm guns from the schooner arrested our attention.
To our surprise, the vessel had changed her position, having dragged her
only anchor. She was already nearly two miles distant, those on board
having lost much time in ineffectual attempts to bring her back to
anchorage. By the time the mate and a crew daring enough to venture out
could be found, she was almost at sea, and already pitching about over
the waves. Soon a dark, cloudy night obscured the schooner and the boat
alike from our view. We kindled a large beacon-fire on the beach, and,
wrapping ourselves in our blankets, anxiously awaited the return of our
companions. In the morning the schooner was safely moored near the
shore.

At this place our ship’s company was divided, a part being determined
to proceed on their journey by sea, while another part intended to walk
up to San Francisco, a distance of twelve hundred miles, over a barren
country, and uninhabited except by Indians. Of these latter, a portion
started by an almost imperceptible path, which led them toward the
Atlantic coast, while the remaining four of us expected to proceed up
the gulf coast. As we ascended the hills behind the village, we caught a
last look of the schooner, already out some distance at sea. When we
reached San José, to our joy we found the Scottish barque Collooney,
Capt. Livingston, for San Francisco, anchored there, having put in for
water. We were received on board, and on May 25th weighed anchor and
were again on our way. The Collooney was from Panama, having on board
two hundred passengers, with accommodations for twenty. At the time for
meals, two assistant stewards, mounted upon the long boat near the two
galleys, called over the names of the passengers belonging to their
divisions. As his name was called, each one walked up if it was calm,
and reeled up if it was rough, to the galleys, and received in a tin
plate and dipper his allowance. It was a tedious voyage of thirty-five
days from the cape to San Francisco. On several Sundays I was invited to
preach upon the quarter-deck. On these occasions we were sometimes
favored with original hymns from the pen of T. G. Spear, of
Philadelphia, who was a passenger on board. I shall give a part of one
of these as very appropriate.

    “Our path is on the mighty deep,
       But God is with us there,
     To guard us in the night, asleep,
       And in the noonday’s glare.

     Our barque, a speck beneath the sky,
       His hand conveys along;
     He makes the winds around her fly,
       Be gentle or be strong.

     Here let us pause, and praise, and pray,
       And seek that boon sublime,
     That opens up a brighter day,
       And smooths the storms of time.”

Much of the time was passed in vexatious calms. We were such a picture
as Coleridge had in his mind when he wrote,

    “Day after day, day after day,
       We stuck, nor breath nor motion,
     As idly as a painted ship
       Upon a painted ocean.”

June 25th, 1849, we reached San Francisco, seventy-four days from San
Blas, and one hundred and forty-five days from Philadelphia. This
wonderful city is an uninviting spot. There is but a small strip of
level land, crowded down to the bay, surrounded by high, sandy hills,
covered with short bushes, while not a tree is to be seen. The city is
composed chiefly of tents. Each day regularly, at about ten o’clock,
there arrives in the city, coming down with a rush over the bleak and
barren hills, a cold, chilling wind, which takes one at once from the
summer to the winter solstice. Fires are comfortable, and cloaks or
serapis are necessary. Gambling seems to be universal. Rents are held at
the most exorbitant prices. I almost fear to risk my credibility by
stating that the Parker House rents at $150,000 a year. On the
afternoon of the second day after our arrival, the 27th of June, our
luggage being transferred from the Colooney to a river schooner which
was taken alongside, we “set sail” up the bay.

We spent the first night at Benicia, anchoring near the landing. Taking
our blankets, as we would our umbrellas at home, we called upon the Rev.
Mr. W., and were introduced by him to a trader, who kindly permitted us
to sleep in a large unfinished room, while in another part of the same
room were a party consisting of a Mexican master and his peons, on their
way to the mines.

June 29th. Arrived at Sacramento City, the present of which is under
canvas, and the future on paper. Every thing is new except the ground,
and trees, and the stars, beneath a canopy of which we slept. Quarreling
and cheating form the employments, drinking and gambling the amusements,
making the largest pile of gold the only ambition of the inhabitants. As
each one steps his foot on shore, he seems to have entered a magic
circle, in which he is under the influence of new impulses. The wills of
all seem under the control of some strong and hidden agency. The city is
every day newly filled, then emptied but to be filled again. The crowd
ever presses on, elate with hope, excited by expectations, which it
would be impossible to define or realize. The world-renowned Sutter’s
Fort, which is two miles from the landing, is a rude structure made of
sun-dried bricks, about five hundred feet long and two hundred wide. It
is now used for other purposes, a part of it being fitted up as a
hospital.

July 2d. Walked from Sacramento to Mormon Island, a distance of
twenty-nine miles; and the next day, each one having forty pounds of
baggage upon his back, consisting of a cradle, tools for mining,
provisions, blankets, &c., walked eight miles farther up the south fork
of the American River to Salmon Falls, there to commence our mining
operations.




CHAPTER III.

NORTHERN MINES.

Salmon Falls, South Fork of the American River, July 4th, 1849.


Here we are, at length, in the gold diggings. Seated around us, upon the
ground, beneath a large oak, are a group of wild Indians, from the tribe
called “Diggers,” so named from their living chiefly upon roots. These
Indians are of medium size, seldom more than five feet and eight or ten
inches high; are very coarse and indolent in appearance, of a dark
complexion, with long black hair which comes down over the face; are
uncivilized, and possess few of the arts of life. They weave a basket of
willow so closely as to hold water, in which they boil their mush, made
of acorns dried and pounded to a powder, or their flour, purchased at
some trading tent. You will perhaps ask how water can be boiled in a
basket without the fire’s burning it. This is done simply by heating
stones and putting them into the water, which is thus, in a short time,
raised to the boiling point. They have brought us in some salmon, one of
which weighs twenty-nine pounds. These they spear with great dexterity,
and exchange for provisions, or clothing, and ornaments of bright
colors. We are surrounded on all sides by high, steep mountains, over
which are scattered the evergreen and white oak, and which are
inhabited by the wolf and bear.[A] This will always be to us a memorable
fourth of July, as being our first day at the mines. We have spent the
day in “_prospecting_.” This term, as it designates a very important
part of the business of mining, requires explanation. I should first,
however, give some description of the bar upon which we are to labor.
This lies on both sides the river, and is covered with smooth,
brassy-looking rocks, some of which weigh many tons. It is a little
higher than the water-level; but we find, as we dig down, that the water
soon begins to flow in, and must be “baled out.” This bar, or rather
succession of bars, extends a distance of some miles up and down the
river, over which the water runs with surprising rapidity in the
freshets, which are common during the rainy season, and break up and
reduce the gold-bearing quartz, tearing it away from its primitive bed,
robbing it, in its course, of its virgin gold, and attriting it till it
is at length deposited, in greater or less abundance, within some
crevice or some water-worn hollow, or beneath some rock so formed as to
receive it. These bars vary from a few feet to several hundred yards in
width. In order to find the deposits, the ground must be “prospected.” A
spot is first selected, in the choice of which science has little and
chance every thing to do. The stones and loose upper soil, as also the
subsoil, almost down to the primitive rock, are removed. Upon or near
this rock most of the gold is found; and it is the object, in every
mining operation, to reach this, however great the labor, and even if it
lies forty, eighty, or a hundred feet beneath the surface. If, when this
strata-belt of rock is attained, it is found to present a smooth
surface, it may as well be abandoned at once; if soft and friable, or if
seamed with crevices, running at angles with the river, the prospect of
the miner is favorable. Some of the dirt is then put into a pan, and
taken to the water, and washed out with great care. The miner stoops
down by the stream, choosing a place where there is the least current,
and, dipping a quantity of water into the pan with the dirt, stirs it
about with his hands, washing and throwing out the large pebbles, till
the dirt is thoroughly wet. More water is then taken into the pan, and
the whole mass is well stirred and shaken, and the top gravel thrown off
with the fingers, while the gold, being heavier, sinks deeper into the
pan. It is then shaken about, more water being continually added, and
thrown off with a sideway motion, which carries with it the dirt at the
top, while the gold settles yet lower down. It must be often stirred
with the hands to prevent “baking,” as the hardening of the mud at the
bottom is called. When the dirt is nearly washed out, great care is
requisite to prevent the lighter scales of gold from being washed out
with the magnetic sand, which is best done by pushing back the gold, and
cleaning the sand from the edge of the pan with the thumb. At length a
ridge of gold scales, mixed with a little sand, remains in the pan, from
the quantity of which some estimate may be formed of the richness of
the place. If there are five to eight grains, it is considered that “it
will pay.” If less gold is found, the miner digs deeper or opens a new
hole, till he finds a place affording a good _prospect_. When this is
done, he sets his cradle by the side of the stream, in some convenient
place, and proceeds to wash all the dirt. This is aptly named
_prospecting_, and is the hardest part of a miner’s business. Thus have
we been employed the whole of this day, digging one hole after
another--washing out many test-pans--hoping, at every new attempt, to
find that which would reward our toil, and we have made _ten cents_
each.

July 5th. My share to-day is $1 25. These details may appear dull and
uninteresting; but the reader will bear in mind that it is the writer’s
object to give a full and true description of a miner’s life. He might
pass by all the days and months of profitless labor, and record only the
days of success; but those who have friends at the mines, and those who
purpose going there, will certainly wish to know what are the trials and
discouragements of such a life. They wish to know the _truth_.

July 6th. We have to-day removed to the opposite side of the river.
This, with pitching our tent, has occupied most of the day. Still, we
have made $4 each. I have been seated for several hours by the river
side, rocking a heavy cradle filled with dirt and stones. The working of
a cradle requires from three to five persons, according to the character
of the diggings. If there is much of the auriferous dirt, and it is
easily obtained, three are sufficient; but if there is little soil, and
this found in crevices, so as only to be obtained with the knife, five
or more can be employed in keeping the cradle in operation. One of these
gives his whole attention to working the cradle, and another takes the
dirt to be washed, in pans or buckets, from the hole to the cradle,
while one or two others supply the buckets. The cradle, so called from
its general resemblance to that article of furniture, has two rockers,
which move easily back and forth in two grooves of a frame, which is
laid down firmly on the edge of or over the water, so that the person
working it may at the same time dip up the water. It must be inclined a
few degrees forward, that the dirt may be washed gradually out, and must
be so placed that the mud may be carried off with the stream. Cleets are
nailed across the bottom of the body, over which the loose dirt passes
with the water, and behind which the magnetic sand and gold settle. An
apron is placed beneath the hopper, and conducts the water, dirt, &c.,
from that to the body below--a construction similar to that of the
common fanning-mill. The hopper, which is placed at the top of the
cradle behind, is a box, the bottom of which is a sheet of tin, zinc, or
sheet iron, perforated with holes from the size of a gold dollar up to
that of a quarter eagle. Through these the dirt, gravel, and gold are
all carried by the water upon the apron and into the body below, leaving
only the pebbles, too large to be passed through, in the hopper, which
are thrown out by raising it in the hands, and by a sudden forward, then
backward motion, depositing them on one side in a heap. To facilitate
this operation, the hopper is sometimes made with hinges, by which
means, by the raising the forward end, the dirt falls over behind. There
is generally a handle, so placed on one side that the cradle may be
rocked with the left hand, leaving it to the choice of the person
rocking whether to stand or sit while at work. The dirt taken from the
hole is turned into the hopper at the top. The person, rocking the
cradle with his left hand, at the same time uses his right in dipping up
continually ladles of water, which he dashes upon the dirt in the
hopper. Twenty-five buckets of dirt are generally washed through, the
mass in the body of the cradle being occasionally stirred up to prevent
its hardening, and thus causing the gold to slide over it and be lost.
It is then drawn off into a pan through holes at the bottom of the
cradle, and “panned out,” or washed, in the same way as in prospecting.
While this is being done by one of the company, it is common for the
others to spend the ten minutes’ interval in resting themselves. Seated
upon the rocks about their companion, they watch the ridge of gold as it
dimples brightly up amid the black sand, seeming to me always _the smile
of hope_, while many enlivening remarks and the cheering laugh go round.
At length, the washing completed, the pan passes from one to another,
while each one gives his opinion as to the quantity. The holes in the
bottom of the cradle are stopped, more dirt is thrown into the hopper,
and again the grating, scraping sounds are heard which are peculiar to
the rocking of the cradle, and which, years hence, will accompany our
dreams of the mines.

July 7th. This morning witnessed an instance of that remarkable success
in mining which rarely occurs, but which, when it takes place, turns the
heads of so many. I might aptly quote Virgil’s figurative description of
Rumor, and apply it to these gold stories. They go out quite respectable
in appearance, furnished with hat and cane at the start, but, as they
proceed, they suddenly expand to the proportions of Hercules, with his
trunk of a tree for a club. We met this story long afterward, after it
had returned from its voyage to the States and to Europe, and, but for
its having claimed Salmon Falls as its birth-place, it could not have
been recognized at all. The facts were simply these: Two Irishmen
followed the “lead” of the Jordan brothers, who had made their gold by
penetrating into a bank which had evidently been detached from the
mountains behind in some convulsion of nature, and pushed forward over
the bar. They commenced in the bank at the edge of the bar, and when
they reached the line in which the Jordans had found their vein, they
were so fortunate as to find it again. This vein is about seven inches
wide, and ten feet below the surface of the bank, and is imbedded in a
stratum of hard clay, through which the fine scale gold is richly
sprinkled. The vein runs, in a compact body, diagonally across the
claims which have been and are being “worked out,” and so on, in a
straight line, to the edge of the bar, where it is broken, scattered,
and lost by its descent. At this remarkable place, these two men, before
breakfast this morning, took out $422. As I witnessed their success, for
we are working within three yards of them, and when I held a large
bottle, nearly full of the beautiful gold, in my hands, I was at first
conscious of feelings of elation and hope. This has given place, this
evening, to temporary despondency, for I have been compelled to contrast
our own small operations with their brilliant success. Poor Jemmie, one
of these Irishmen, and who had never before been the owner of a
sovereign, said to me to-day, “Every body is talking about my good luck,
but, I don’t know how it is, I can’t feel so; and, faith, I think _a
sovereign looks to me more!_” Our company have been engaged to-day in
“prospecting,” and preparing for work. The last washings, near night,
gave us fifty cents to the pan, which is considered encouraging.

July 8th, Sunday. All the miners upon the bar, with the exception of one
man, who is working by himself below, have laid aside their labors for
the day. This is, partly at least, owing to a regard for its sacredness.
And when may we be so much sustained by the encouragements, cheered by
the promises, or influenced by the restraints of religion, as in the
circumstances in which we are now placed? Religion--Heaven’s most
precious gift to man--comes and offers to lead us, and to be with us in
all our weary exile from home.

July 9th. To-day we have made $20 each. One of the conclusions at which
we are rapidly arriving is, that the chances of our making a fortune in
the gold mines are about the same as those in favor of our drawing a
prize in a lottery. No kind of work is so uncertain. A miner may happen
upon a good location in his very first attempt, and in a very few days
make his hundreds or thousands, while the old miners about him may do
nothing. Two foreigners, who had been some time in the mines, began to
work their respective claims, leaving a small space between them. The
question arose to which of them this space belonged. As they could not
amicably settle the dispute, they agreed to leave it to the decision of
an American who happened by, and who had not yet done an hour’s work in
the mines. He measured off ten feet--which is allowed by custom--to each
of the claimants, taking for his trouble the narrow strip of land lying
between them. In a few hours, the larger claims, belonging to the old
miners, were abandoned as useless, while the new miner discovered a
deposit which yielded him $7435.

July 10th. We made $3 each to-day. This life of severe hardship and
exposure has affected my health. Our diet consists of hard bread, flour,
which we eat half cooked, and salt pork, with occasionally a salmon
which we purchase of the Indians. Vegetables are not to be procured. Our
feet are wet all day, while a hot sun shines down upon our heads, and
the very air parches the skin like the hot air of an oven. Our drinking
water comes down to us thoroughly impregnated with the mineral
substances washed through the thousand cradles above us. After our days
of labor, exhausted and faint, we _retire_--if this word may be applied
to the simple act of lying down in our clothes--robbing our feet of
their boots to make a pillow of them, and wrapping our blankets about
us, on a bed of pine boughs, or on the ground, beneath the clear,
bright stars of night. Near morning there is always a change in the
temperature of the air, and several blankets become necessary. Then the
feet and the hands of the novice in this business become blistered and
lame, and the limbs are stiff. Besides all these causes of sickness, the
anxieties and cares which wear away the life of so many men who leave
their families to come to this land of gold, contribute, in no small
degree, to this same result. It may with truth be said, “the whole head
is sick, and the whole heart faint.” I have to-day removed to the top of
the hill above the encampment, and beneath a large oak-tree, for the
benefit of a cooler air and shade during the intense heat of noon.

Aug. 20th. After my last date I was prostrated at once by the
acclimating disease of the country, and rendered as helpless as a child.
All day and all night long I was alone under my oak, and without those
kind attentions so necessary in sickness, and which can not be had here.
I was reduced to a very low state, with but little hope, under the
circumstances, of recovery. It did seem hard to lie down to die there,
and to think that I was no more to see my beloved family. Yet I feared
not to die. Indeed, I marked off the spot under the oak where my grave
should be, and prayed for submission to God’s righteous will, and that
his love would protect and bless those dear to me.

The lines of an Englishman, addressed, as he was dying at the mines, “to
a gold coin,” vividly described my feelings at that time:

    “For thee, for thee, vile yellow slave,
       I left a heart that loved me true!
     I crossed the tedious ocean-wave,
       To roam in climes unkind and new.
     The cold wind of the stranger blew
       Chill on my withered heart--the grave
     Dark and untimely met my view--
       And all for thee, vile yellow slave!”

At this critical time, a gentleman from New Orleans, hearing of my case,
came up to see me, and gave me a few pills, which, fortunately, he had
with him. They checked the disease, and after a few hours I could eat a
bird shot and cooked for me by a kind friend. Not soon shall I forget
this noble-hearted friend, B. Rough as a grisly bear, he was yet one of
nature’s noblemen. At home he filled, at one time, the office of
sheriff. He said that the office cost him too much, and was making him
poor. If he was sent to seize a destitute woman’s effects for rent, he
would be sure to pay that rent, and then would send her a bag of flour
from his own farm. Thus we learn that many of the most valuable traits
of character and excellencies of heart lie, like the purest gold,
concealed beneath a rough surface.

Not thinking it best, in the feeble state of my health, to return to
mining immediately, as soon as I was strong enough, with my blankets
upon my back, I walked to “Sutter’s Mill,” now named Coloma. When I
first reached the country, a school had been offered me in this place at
a stipulated compensation of $16 a day. After spending a few days with
Mr. W., one of the two who discovered the first gold, while engaged in
digging a mill-race for Mr. Sutter, a spot now regarded with peculiar
interest, my health was so much improved that I concluded to return to
the mines.

On reaching Salmon Falls, to my surprise I found Mr. C., a French
gentleman, and who had formerly had the charge of the French classes in
my seminary, and who was now waiting to invite me to join himself and a
friend, a dentist from Philadelphia, in a prospecting tour upon the
north and middle forks. We spent two weeks in this exploring tour, and
on our return to Salmon Falls spent several days in mining there. When
all our expenses were paid and a dividend made, we had $2 each, the
result of three weeks of hard toil.

Hearing of good diggings at Weaver’s Creek, I proposed to my companions
to go over, and, after prospecting, send them word. One of them
accompanied me on my way as far as Coloma. As he was leaving me to
return, after spending the night together in an emigrant’s wagon we
found by the roadside, a miner who had just arrived, after a long and
dangerous journey across the plains, rode up to me. He told me he was
without money, and without provisions or tools for mining, having
exhausted his means on his long journey. This miner, named W., had been
a Texas Ranger. When he told me his condition, I went with him into
Coloma, and succeeded in procuring all he wanted on a credit of a few
days. He manifested his gratitude by offering to pack my provisions with
his own upon his mule, and to accompany me wherever I was going. After
traveling three miles, we stopped under a tree to cook slap-jacks--a
fried batter--and pork, and wait for the cool of the evening. About four
o’clock we again started for the diggings on Weaver’s Creek, five miles
distant. Taking the wrong trail, we lost our way, and wandered on six
miles till it was too dark to see the path. We were in a wild gorge of
the mountain, hungry and tired, with no means of kindling a fire, and my
feet badly blistered. But our most serious want was that of water, our
thirst having become intolerable. We tied a rope to the neck of our
mule, keeping one end of it in our hands, hoping that his instinct would
lead him to water; but we were disappointed; and hungry, thirsty, and
tired, we laid us down where we could feel a place in the dark which was
smooth enough.

In the morning we found, to our surprise, that we had been sleeping in
the middle of the road, and within a few yards of us was a fine spring
of water. Yesterday morning we reached Weaver’s Creek, and, after
prospecting some hours, located ourselves on the spot where we now are
at work, with some good prospect of success. Just below us is a Georgia
miner, who showed me to-day nine pounds of gold he made last week with
the assistance of two hired men. The mountains here are very precipitous
and abrupt, hanging over our heads in wild grandeur. The creek is only
accessible through wild ravines and over steep mountains. Owing to their
great depth, and their being shut up on all sides by mountains so lofty
that the sun rises two hours later, and sets two hours earlier than upon
the plains, the heat is most intense. We have spent our first day in
making preparations for our work. W. is now putting up a brush arbor, to
guard us more effectually against the heat of the sun. Beneath the same
large and wide-spreading tree are two other companies of miners. In one
of these companies is a Missourian, shivering beneath the hot sun with a
violent attack of fever and ague. For several days I have remonstrated
with him against going into the cold water when heated, and standing
there while washing out the gold. To-day he became much heated, and in
this state repeated the experiment, and in ten minutes was seen creeping
into his blankets. In a little time he sent for me. His look was very
wild and wandering as I went to his side, and he said, looking up
shivering into the tree above him, “Woods, if you don’t remove this
tree, my fever never _will_ break.”

Weaver’s Creek, Aug. 21st. Our mining company has been to-day increased,
two others having joined us, making our number five. One of these has
been engaged in walling in a spring where we obtain our
drinking-water--another is making a cradle. The others have been
employed in removing the stones and top soil, and carrying the
auriferous dirt on hand-barrows, made of hides, down to the edge of the
water, ready to be washed. From every indication, we have “struck a rich
lead.” We find much gold on the rocks: on one I counted twenty-five
scales.

Aug. 22d. We have finished our cradle, and washed a little dirt this
forenoon, which yielded us about $10 in all. Our hopes are bright for
the morrow.

Aug. 23d. How is “the gold become dim!” After all our preparations and
hopes, our toil early and late, toil of the most laborious kind, digging
down in the channel of the river till the water was up to our knees,
giving ourselves barely time to eat, we have made but $4 each. We sat
down upon the rocks, and looked at the small ridge of gold in the pan,
and then at each other. One fell to swearing, another to laughing; I
tried to say some encouraging things. Our way indeed is dark, and great
are our difficulties, and oft-repeated our failures, and we experience
the bitterness of the “hope deferred which maketh the heart sick,” but
our motto must be _press on_. The motives which induced us to come here
were good--our object is good--then, trusting in God’s merciful
providence, let us _persevere_.

One young man near us has just died. He was without companion or
friend--alone in his tent. Not even his name could be discovered. We
buried him, tied down his tent, leaving his effects within. Thus is a
home made doubly desolate. Years will pass, and that loved son, or
brother, or husband still be expected, and the question still repeated,
Why don’t he come? Right below me, upon a root of our wide-spreading
oak, is seated an old man of three-score and ten years. He left a wife
and seven children at home, whose memory he cherishes with a kind of
devotion unheard of before. He says when he is home-sick he can not cry,
but it makes him sick at his stomach. He is an industrious old man, but
has not made enough to buy his provisions, and we have given him a
helping hand. Is it surprising that many fly to gambling, and more to
drink, to drown their disappointments? To-day I have weighed my little
store of gold, after paying all expenses, and find it amounts, after
over six weeks of hard labor, to $35.

Aug. 25th. Yesterday I returned to Salmon Falls, and am again encamped
beneath the old oak upon the hill, Mr. C. and his friend being with me.
They have slung their hammocks up among the branches, where they sleep
comfortably, protected from the ants and vermin. My bed is, as usual,
upon the ground, where even my night-bag does not guard me from the
annoying attacks of the ants and lizards. Last night, after I had fallen
asleep, my companions were aroused by hearing a ciote barking near us,
and soon they saw him come and smell of my hands and face, seeming to
doubt whether he could take a bite without being detected.

A company of nineteen have just commenced damming the river at the head
of an island above the falls, nearly a mile in length, by which they
expect to lay bare the channel, on one side, the whole length of the
island. The proceedings of a meeting of the company to-day, with
reference to my admission, were truly Californian. It was first resolved
that I should be admitted, and then, as they had been at work two days,
that I should furnish the company five bottles of brandy as the
condition of my membership. The brandy was bought and drank, and then a
committee waited upon me to notify me that I was a member, and that the
trader had furnished them brandy to the amount of $10 on my account. As
they knew that there was no other way by which they could obtain a
“treat” from me, it was bought and drank before I was informed of the
transaction.

On my way from Weaver’s Creek yesterday, I made the acquaintance of an
intelligent gentleman from Washington City, who had held there a
profitable office under government, and had left a family behind him. He
came hoping to better a good condition. A few days labor in the mines
was sufficient to convince him that it would have been better to “let
well enough alone.” His is not a solitary case. The mines are full of
such. The wonderful instances of success which those at home are made to
believe are common, are about in the proportion of one to a thousand. Of
the nine hundred and ninety-nine cases of failure, or at least of
limited success, those at a distance know nothing--nothing of the
privations and discouragements, trials, dangers, and deaths.

Aug. 26th. On my way to the place for preaching to-day, I stepped into a
hornet’s nest, and was badly stung on my hand. These hornets, called
“yellow jackets,” live around and in our tents, and share our
provisions. I have had twenty of them on my plate at once. My hand was
much swollen, and I feared I should be unable to fulfill my engagement
with the company by preaching to them. The kindness of the wife of one
of the miners, who brought a bottle of hartshorn from the tent, and
bathed my hand with it, soon relieved me. Our church was “God’s first
temple.” My audience were seated upon the grass on the river bank,
beneath a cluster of pine trees. There they were, from all the
states--from Europe, from Africa, from Oceanica. Such hours of worship
on God’s holy day, spent with my mining companions, or with some beloved
Christian brother who remained “steadfast, unmoveable” in his integrity
amid the corrupting vices of the mines, will never be forgotten. When we
could not walk to the house of God in company, we sometimes walked upon
the mountains, and there together sang the songs of Zion, and prayed to
the Father ever merciful and good in a strange land. I take pleasure in
recalling to my mind such a noble-hearted Christian, who had devoted one
fourth of all his anticipated earnings in California to religious
charities. It was my pleasure afterward, when in San Francisco, to send
him, through the Secretary of the American Bible Society, a quantity of
Bibles, hymn-books, and sermons, his purpose being to form a Bible class
among the miners. He wished them to be sent as early as possible, as “he
hoped,” he said, “to get possession of the ground, and thus keep out the
gambling table and the brandy bottle.”

Sept. 3d. We are yet at work throwing a dam over the river. It would be
thought, from the manner in which some members of the company talk about
what they “know must be” in the channel of the river, that they expect
to do no more work after this. A perfect Mohammedan heaven, with its
tree bearing every luxury, its beautiful treasures, its arbors where no
care or trouble exist, seem ready to be revealed as soon as the water
which curtains them over shall be drawn aside. An interesting incident
occurred to-day. A young Englishman in our company, from the Society
Islands, was returning to his tent during the interval at noon for
lunch and rest. On his way, one of the many strangers he met inquired
the way to certain mines below. From this they fell into a conversation
upon some indifferent topic, and both being wearied, they sat down, side
by side, upon a rock, little thinking what an interesting and beautiful
revelation was about to be made to them. In the conversation, one
incidentally inquired of the other where he was from. “From the Society
Islands,” was the reply. With an awakened interest in his manner, he
inquired, “Which island?” “Tahiti,” was the answer. He looked into the
face of the other with a searching gaze, and with deep emotion inquired,
“What is your name?” “ H.,” he said, “_You are my brother!_” And they
were locked in each other’s arms. There they are, on the bar below me,
walking arm in arm, and conversing with intense interest. I afterward
learned more of these brothers from a lady, whose father was the first
missionary to Tahiti.

Sept. 8th. Our damming operation has been an entire failure. We spent
many days in constructing the dam, which, when completed, drained a
large portion of the river. When this was done, we thoroughly prospected
the whole, and found nothing. The banks and bars of the river were rich
in some places, but there was not a grain of gold in the channel.

Sept. 9th. Attended preaching at Mormon Island to-day. Being late out, I
called to spend the night with a company of gentlemen from Cincinnati,
who are encamped in a solitary place some two miles below Salmon Falls,
upon the river. We had just finished our supper an hour since, during
which they were relating to me some difficulties they had with the
Indians, who had stolen $200 from them. After this theft, and the
measures which had been resorted to for the recovery of the money, the
Indians would frequently come after dark and throw stones across the
river into their camp.

Sept. 15th. Upon a bar above our dam some miners lately met with some
success. Rumors of this success, but much exaggerated, were circulated.
Ounces were reported pounds. The change at once was magical. Trading
tents, the signs of rival physicians, eating and gambling booths have
sprung up, and the noise and confusion of a large village are heard.
More than a hundred men are at work upon the bar. The auriferous dirt
must be taken a quarter of a mile to the river to be washed. Some do
this by packing the dirt in bags upon mules, and some pack this upon
their own backs. One company, from Hartford, gave us a surprise this
morning. They had with them a quantity of hose, and by this means
brought the water from the river upon the bar, thus saving the labor of
packing the dirt. The gold is chiefly found in one vein, running in
nearly a direct line at right angles to the river. The few who have
found this vein have done comparatively well. All the rest “spend their
labor for that which is not bread.” A company of Cincinnati miners have
invited me to work with them a “claim” upon this bar. They have just
told me that the Indians came last night in large numbers, and made an
attack upon their camp, which they were compelled to abandon at
midnight, and, swimming the river, to take refuge with a company of New
York miners.

Sept. 18th. There is but little dirt upon this bar, and it is now
regarded as “worked out,” and the miners are leaving as fast as they
came. Our company have made upon the bar $65 each. I have been now three
months in the mines, and have made $390. There is much sickness here.
One half of the whole population are sick. I have to-day been informed
of the mournful death of a merchant from Philadelphia, a fellow-voyager
from Cape San Lucas. He was the object of anxious solicitude to his
friends soon after his arrival at San Francisco. He had come on with
bright hopes, which were sadly disappointed. To drown his sorrows and
disappointments, he had given himself up to drink. Many times had they
expostulated with him, but in vain. He died at San Francisco.

Sept. 30th. Left Salmon Falls on Wednesday last for San Francisco. My
object in taking this journey was to get my letters from home. On my
arrival in the country I had received letters, but it is now five months
since my last were dated. My anxiety to hear from my family had become
very great. A friend offered me the use of a vicious mule for the
journey to Sacramento. No bridle could be borrowed, and, besides, I was
to be mounted upon a pack-saddle without stirrups. Imagine me, then, as
thus starting off, my hair and beard of truly patriarchal length, all
unshorn and unshaven. Such superfluities as coat, vest, collar, cravat,
&c., were only remembered with the other comforts once enjoyed. My red
flannel garments gave me a rather warlike appearance. Thus habited and
mounted, a rope’s end was tied around my mule’s neck, which passed in a
running noose over his nose, while I checked his movements by the other
end, which I held in my hand. He did his best several times to run with
me and to throw me, and my companions enjoyed their sport at my expense.
The mule had a most ludicrous way of throwing up his head and braying as
he was about starting to run. From this circumstance I named him
“Roaring Lion.” They were compelled to acknowledge that in these trials
of strength I had the “upper hand.”

At Sacramento I inquired for a bag of clothing which I supposed had been
stored in the place, and, after a long search, it was pointed out to me
hanging in a tree-top in the town. The friend with whom I left it in
charge to store had put his own clothing in it, and, to avoid paying the
exorbitant price charged for storage, had deposited it where found. On
reaching San Francisco, after a tedious voyage of five days, I hastened
at once to the office of Livingston & Co. to get my letters. When I
inquired for them, I was told there were a number for me, but, on
looking for them, it was found that they had been forwarded, only the
day before, to the mines. My disappointment was great. All the other
privations and trials to which I had been subject were truly light
compared with this. But, like them all, it had this good effect: it led
me to set a higher and more true estimate upon the blessings of our
native land. How priceless, when thus deprived of them, become our
homes--better than fine gold! On turning away from the office, oppressed
with anxiety and disappointment, I was walking slowly up the street,
when the lively notes of a piano struck my ear. I stopped to listen. It
was a favorite home song--“We have lived and loved together.” My
feelings were moved with emotions of inexpressible tenderness and
sorrow.

San Francisco, Oct. 19th. Have spent nearly three weeks in this city,
waiting for letters. Col. Moore, post-master, kindly interested himself
in the recall of those sent to the mountains, but they have not been
received. Two mail steamers have arrived since I have been here, and,
though three mails were due, have brought none. Not only one gulf, but
parts of two oceans and one continent, are between me and my family,
while the only comfort which reaches me is the thought that those I love
are under the protecting care of an Almighty Friend.

There is much sickness now in this city. Many come down sick from the
mines. The situation of such is desperate indeed. There is a heartless
unconcern in the community generally to the sufferings and wants of the
many who are dying wretched deaths in the midst of them. It may not,
perhaps, be possible that it should be otherwise. Every man is too much
occupied with his own concerns to be able to search out objects of
charity; and there are so many such cases constantly recurring, as to
induce a feeling of indifference, the result of familiarity with the
sufferings of others. I was present at a religious meeting when this
subject was mentioned, and means were suggested for some systematic and
efficient relief. Some cases were related which called for immediate
aid. The case of one young man, in particular, awakened my sympathy, and
I devoted the next forenoon to an effort to find him. I was at length
directed to a large open lot bordering upon the shore, and covered with
bales, boxes, and barrels of goods of all descriptions. After walking up
and down over this lot, I could discover no object of distress, or no
place where he could have found a resting-place, and gave up the
pursuit. Three days afterward, as I was standing at the door of a store
opposite this lot, a small crowd gathered there, and were looking at
some object with intense interest. I crossed over, and there, beneath a
hide stretched over two boxes, and crouched down between these boxes,
was the corpse of the poor man I had sought, who had died there
unfriended and alone. His head was leaning upon his hand, placed upon an
edge of the box. No one could have supposed that a human body was
concealed there. I had twice passed by that very spot in my search for
him. The least groan could have been heard from the street. At the
religious meeting I have mentioned, held beneath the tent chapel of the
Presbyterian church, it was stated that there had been lately twelve
cases of suicide in San Francisco. Yesterday a young man from New
England left his tent in “Happy Valley,” and went to a retired place,
untied his cravat and hung it upon the bushes, took a razor from its
case, and put the case upon his cravat, and then deliberately cut his
own throat. Pecuniary losses, it is supposed, was the cause.

The house in which I have passed my time since I came to the city is one
occupied by Rev. Mr. W., in the suburbs--soon to be the heart of the
city. Across the street from us are some canvas tents, and below these a
shed-house, in which is kept a restaurant; then comes a house made of
hides stretched over a frame, and still lower down are more tents, adobe
and frame houses, containing men, women, and children from all parts of
the world. And there below me extends, far away, the noble bay, covered
with its ships from all nations, to which new arrivals are daily added.
Throngs of people, horses, wagons, oxen, carts, and mules, are ever
passing. And this moment there goes toward the “Presidio” a heavy piece
of ordnance. Here follow two merry young Americans on horseback, each
with a gayly-dressed sigñorita before him, both without bonnets, and
laughing merrily; and hear those glad and happy shouts of children!
Stretched away before me is the world of San Francisco--and what a
world! How the tide of human life flows and dashes upon its shores!
Crowds every day arrive, and other crowds every day leave. Old friends
meet, exchange a few words, and hasten on to the shrine of _Mammon_.
Multitudes die, the waves close over them, and they are forgotten. It
can hardly be supposed that people come to California _to live_, since
they are here only _preparing to live_--much less do they come here _to
die_. I pray that my life may be spared till I return to a land of
friends, and where man is united to man by the sympathies of life!

The indifference of a class of the population here even to the lives of
others, was illustrated by the grave-digger, who has generally to dig
eight or more graves in a day, but yesterday only having three ordered,
he cursed the Yankees for cheating him out of half his day’s earnings.

Last evening I walked around to about fifty of the gambling tables. A
volume could not describe their splendor or their fatal attractions. The
halls themselves are vast and magnificent, spread over with tables and
implements for gambling. The pictures which decorate them no pen of mine
shall describe. The bar-rooms are furnished with the most expensive
liquors, no care or attention being spared in the _compounding and
coloring_ of them. The music is performed often by professors, and is of
the best kind. The tables are sometimes graced, or disgraced, by
females, who came at first masked, and who are employed to deal the
cards, or who come to play on their own account. “The Bank” consists of
a solid pile of silver coin, surmounted by the golden currency of as
many countries as there are dupes about the table. Often a sack or two
of bullion, which has cost the poor miner months of labor, is placed
upon the top of all. Sufficient money to send one home independent
changed owners during my short stay. A boy of ten years came to one of
the tables with a few dollars. His “run of luck” was surprising, and to
him bewildering. In ten minutes he was the owner of a _pile_ of silver,
with some gold. In one minute more he was without a dollar. Thinking by
one turn of the cards to double his profits, he lost the whole. The
instances of great good luck on the part of the players are very rare.
But they sometimes occur. A lawyer of this city recently swept three
tables in one evening. A young man came from the States in one of the
last steamers, and was preparing to go to the mines. He borrowed ten
dollars, and went to one of the faro banks. During the night and a part
of the next forenoon, he had won $7000, when he made a resolution never
to play more, and returned home in the next steamer. Mr. Davidson, the
agent of the Rothschilds, says that some of the professed gamblers send
home by him to England the average sum of $17,000 a month. Many tricks
are resorted to in order to bring persons to the table. An eye-witness
assures me that he has seen the president of the bank slip secretly into
the hand of some one, employed for the purpose of decoying others, a
quantity of coin. On receiving this, he would leave the room, but soon
return, and present himself in a noisy manner at the table, and boldly
“plank down” the very money he had received. In five minutes the table
would be surrounded by eager players.

There are but few women yet in California. Several merchants, and others
who intend to spend some years in the country, send for their families.
But the situation of these ladies is not the most comfortable, owing to
the want of society, and to the utter impossibility of procuring
servants in the family. By the death of their husbands, the condition of
the wives would be pitiable, though there seem to be enough who would
persuade them to change their solitary life as soon as possible. A lady
now in this city, soon after her arrival here lost her husband. Before
he had been dead a week, she received three proposals of marriage.

The price of labor is yet very high, though not as high as it was in the
spring. Good carpenters and masons command their $8 a day. The citizens
frequently send their clothes to the Sandwich and Society Islands, and
even to Valparaiso, and other places on the coast, to be washed, to
avoid the great expense for washing here. All kinds of goods are lower
than they were a few months since. Coal, which was $100, is now $9 a
ton. Vegetables have fallen from $1 to 25 cts. a lb. Eggs maintain their
high price, selling at $20 a dozen.

After much inquiry, we have determined to go, for our next mining
season, to the southern mines. We are led to this determination chiefly
on account of the better health enjoyed there.




CHAPTER IV.

SOUTHERN MINES.


Having made our preparations, and engaged passage on board a schooner
for Stockton, on the 19th day of October we started. Our company was
made up chiefly of young gentlemen from Boston. Our sail up the bays and
the San Joaquin River was accomplished in six days. We furnished our own
provisions, which, owing to the length of our journey, proved
insufficient. Notwithstanding the very heavy dews, we were compelled to
sleep on deck. In consequence, one of our company took so severe a cold
that he returned to San Francisco from Stockton, abandoning mining;
while another, a young man from Uxbridge--alas! will disregard all the
earnest advice of his friends to return, and will go on, a doomed
man--will reach the mines, and we shall there leave him in his grave.
Poor C., may his sad story be a warning to multitudes of young men,
having good business and good prospects at home, to remain there,
contented with small, but steady and sure gains! Sad, sad was his fate
to be, for we were soon to bury him, in sight, and within a few yards of
those rich deposits, the exaggerated accounts of which are now luring
him, and will lure so many others to their ruin! Poor friend! even the
hardened muleteers, having charge of our provisions, pity his sorrows,
and walk themselves, that they may supply a mule for his faltering and
fainting steps. All see death in his haggard countenance and sunken
eyes, yet _he sees it not_. Never shall I forget my interview with him,
while I walked by the mule on which he was riding, a few days only
before his death. He was telling me of the bright and happy future
before him. Taking from his vest pocket a daguerreotype, he placed it in
my hands, requesting me to open it. What simplicity, what truth were
portrayed in that lovely countenance! Well might he think his future a
happy one. I could hardly conceal from him my emotion as I returned his
priceless treasure, and thought, never will you take to your bosom the
loving and the loved! In a few days I communicated to his friends the
intelligence of his death.

Stockton, Oct. 25th. An escape so remarkable occurred to-day that it
should not be omitted. Calling at the store of Paige & Webster to
purchase provisions, I stood conversing with the clerk, the bag
containing the supplies lying at my feet. Thinking the string was loose,
I stooped over to examine it. At that very moment there was the sharp
crack of a pistol in the store adjoining, and separated only by a cloth
partition. On rising hastily, I perceived that the bullet had passed
through the tent directly in range of my body. Without moving, I took
the measurement, and found that, had I not moved the _very second_ I
did, the ball must have gone directly through my heart. It passed within
an inch or two of my spine. A little crowd were instantly upon the spot,
wondering at this almost miraculous escape.

Our journey from Stockton to Marepoosa, a distance of one hundred and
twenty miles, was accomplished between Oct. 27th and Nov. 15th. We took
our own provisions and cooking utensils with us, there being few eating
tents on the way. After three days’ travel the rainy season set in, and
we found it necessary to pitch our tents--sometimes doing this in the
mud, spreading down our blankets upon the wet and cold ground, there to
remain for two or three days. After we had crossed the plain of the San
Joaquin and entered among the mountains, we had fine scenery and
beautiful sunsets. Our guide was endeavoring to take us by a new track
to the mines, and on our march, Nov. 2d, we were lost among the
mountains. After a consultation, the guide and muleteers concluded to
cross a high mountain, without a path and very steep. In ascending, two
of the mules missed their footing, rolling over and over, down the
precipitous sides of the hill, till arrested uninjured by some rock or
stump. By the time we had reached the summit of the mountain, and passed
across an extent of table-land to an abrupt bluff, at the foot of which
was to be seen the beautiful Tuolumne, night had crept upon us. With the
night came torrents of rain, driving through our thin canvas roof in a
shower of large drops. During the night I was conscious of a sensation
of coldness which had completely benumbed me. When sufficiently awake to
ascertain the cause, I found that, owing to the unevenness of the
ground, I had slid down till my feet were immersed in a cold bath
outside the tent. All the next day we kept our tent, amusing ourselves
by reading, sewing, and conversing. The morning after, the clouds had
disappeared, and the sun rose in splendor. The birds sang their most
enlivening songs. It was like our May at home. On walking out of our
tents, we perceived the huge foot-prints of the grisly bear at just
twenty-six paces distant, and there were the holes where he had
scratched up the ground in pursuit of the ants and bugs, which he
devours with avidity. The centipedes and tarantulas occasioned us no
little apprehension and uneasiness. After the rain commenced, we
frequently found them between and under our blankets.

On one of the mornings of our march, my feet being lame, I started in
advance of the train, that I might take time to rest, not expecting to
see the party again till they overtook me at the end of the day’s march.
When I left, all preparations for a start had been made, and the
muleteers had gone out for their mules. Two of them, however, were
missing, and so much of the day was spent before they were found, that
the guide concluded to remain in camp till the next morning. Upon
reaching the spring where I supposed we were to encamp, and having
quenched my thirst, hungry and weary, I went to a large and shady tree a
short distance from the path, and sat down to await my companions. For
some time I occupied my mind with reading the “Pilgrim’s Progress,”
which I had in my pocket. Soon, however, Bunyan’s dream began to mingle
with my own, and I fell into a long, deep sleep. When I awoke,
bewildered and confused, it was near night, and nowhere were my
companions to be seen. Had they passed me during the day, and gone on to
the next encampment, or had some accident delayed them, were becoming
anxious questions to me. I perceived, by new tracks, that several trains
had passed while I was asleep. Was mine one of them? I determined--why,
I hardly know--to retrace my morning steps. But soon a new source of
anxiety arose. My course in the morning had been across a plain at the
foot of the mountains, till at length it brought me up among them. As I
descended the last steeps of these, and saw the plain extended out below
me, far in the distance, and very far from the trail I had come, I saw a
mule-train which I thought must be mine, and concluded that I had been
all this time wandering out of my way. Fixing their direction in my mind
before descending upon the plain, and while the sun was setting, I
struck across, leaving my path, and hoping to intersect theirs by the
time they should come into camp. If I could not effect this, I must
spend the night without food, or water, or blankets, with also the
prospect of being _lost_ among the mountains. This, in my situation,
would be attended with much inconvenience and some danger. Several have
been lost in this manner, and never seen again. At length I succeeded in
reaching the train, and found it was not mine; but I had the
satisfaction of hearing from my companions, and that they were still at
their last night’s camp. At about ten o’clock I reached our encampment.
Tired and hungry as I was, I stood for some time struck with the scene
before me. In addition to the usual camp-fires, giving to every thing a
wild, gipsy-like air, my friends had cut down a large tree, and, piling
up all the branches and a quantity of dry fuel, had made a grand
bonfire. The whole country about was lighted up. Hastening to the camp,
I first snatched up the coffee-pot, and, finding it half full, began to
drink heartily of the contents, too thirsty to judge of its quality.
When I joined the cheerful party around the blazing fire, I was appealed
to to decide a question which they had been and still were eagerly
discussing. The subject was one which, being brought up under our
circumstances, and at such a distance from home, was calculated to
awaken a lively interest. It was respecting the comparative merits of
the Boston Common and the New York Battery, and was agitated by young
miners from those cities.

As we approach the mines, accounts vary greatly as to the prospects of
the miners. Those who are, like ourselves, going toward the Marepoosa
diggings, hear a thousand exasperated stories of success; but the
multitude who are already leaving this region for other mines bring back
the most discouraging reports. As we have found it elsewhere, so it is
here; at a distance--in Stockton, in San Francisco, in the States, the
Marepoosa diggings are regarded as very rich, and are thought by some to
be the ancient Ophir. Now that we are within a few miles, the
enchantment which distance lends has vanished. It is found that, in
general, the miners are not making a living. At the River Mercedes we
saw some Indians, called Savage’s Indians, from an American with that
name, who shot the chief and took his place in the tribe. He was
formerly a companion of Colonel Fremont. These Indians were fishing for
salmon, at which business they are very expert and successful. All the
Indians in the country are _openly_ friendly, but their friendship is
not to be trusted. They have acquired a growing distrust of the emigrant
miners, so often are they made the subjects of the most cruel and
barbarous impositions. To me their whole deportment appears threatening.
Even when they come into our camps with presents or to trade, their
conduct says plainly, “We bide our time!” It may be delayed, but the
time will come when they will seek revenge; and woe be to those who are
among these wild mountain fastnesses when that fearful time comes!

I have seen but few birds among the mountains of California. The large
French woodpecker is the most common. It feeds upon the acorn, of which
it lays up immense supplies after they have fallen from the trees. It
can not put its stores in the ground, for the bears and squirrels would
scratch them up and devour them. They pick a hole in the bark of the
tree, of such a size that the acorn will exactly fit into it; then they
fly down, and, taking one in the bill, drive it deep into the hole.
There are thousands of these acorns sometimes in a single tree, which
have the appearance of so many bullets shot into it. There is a singular
species of the frog, similar to the “horned frog” of Texas. It is as
large as the common frog, but covered with scales, with two of the same
scales, but larger, protruding out from its head. There are abundance
of elk, deer, and antelope; but the most remarkable animal is the grisly
bear. This animal is eight to eleven feet in length, and four to six in
girth. It is of a dark brown color, with long, shaggy hair. It possesses
wonderful strength, and a single blow of its iron-clawed paw would fell
an ox; yet it rarely attacks unless provoked. It never lies in wait for
its prey. It is dangerous to attack him. Few persons have the hardihood,
when alone, to fire upon him, and then look for a tree to which they may
retreat.

We passed, on our way, through “Fremont’s camp,” where, a year since,
the colonel had a large number of Indians working for him. It is now
quite a settlement; and the very day we passed through, a company of
sixty men was organized to pursue and punish the Indians for various
depredations lately committed. Finding so little which was favorable in
our prospect, we started for Sherlock’s diggings, led by new stories of
wonderful success. The two brothers Sherlock, who discovered this place,
are said to have taken out $30,000 from a small square spot of ground.
They went to Monterey to deposit their money and make preparations to
continue their profitable labors. While there, in an unguarded manner,
one day, they let fall some hints concerning their success. These were
not lost upon two sailors belonging to a man-of-war then lying in the
bay, and who happened to be present. They returned on board, asked and
obtained a furlough for seven weeks, made their preparations, and when
the Sherlocks started, they started also. It was not long before the
Sherlocks suspected the purpose of the sailors, and, to elude them, very
quietly arose at midnight, packed their mules, and silently proceeded on
their way. What was their surprise in the morning to find their pursuers
still following them. Every means was resorted to in order to avoid them
or mislead their search, but all in vain. They were always _there_.
Seeing that they were “in for it,” they made a virtue of necessity, took
the sailors with them, gave them valuable instructions, and every
assistance in their power. A few weeks since, and before the expiration
of their furlough, the two sailors returned on board with ninety pounds
of gold.

Here we encountered severe hardships, camping in leaky tents, upon wet
and muddy ground, from which we raised ourselves only by spreading down
pine boughs beneath us, being chilled with the cold rain and snow.
Yesterday a friend was seated by me upon a log at the opening of the
tent. “Oh!” said he, “let me be at home with my wife and little
daughter, and I will live on one meal a day. I have often wondered,” he
continued, “how the poor Irish _could live_ in their hovels, but look
here at _our home_! Their situation is Paradise compared to ours! My
wife would cry herself to death if she could see what I suffer!”

Nov. 16th. To-day we commenced our labors at Sherlock’s, contracting to
pay $5 a day for an old cradle, while the sum total of our first day’s
labor has been one dollar. One of my companions amused us by telling us,
while speaking of the wrong ideas those form of the mines who have never
seen them, the advice his father gave him. He told him not to work too
hard, but to buy a low chair and a small iron rake, and, taking his
seat, to rake over the sand, and, picking up the pieces of gold as they
came to view, to put them in a box.

Nov. 17th. The sum total made to-day is 25 cents; and this when
provisions are selling at $1 25 a pound, with the prospect of being
still higher. We returned this evening to our camp tired and hungry,
and, finding very little here to eat, have put on a kettle of acorns to
boil, upon which, with a little venison, we shall make our supper. There
are many depredations committed by the Indians. Mules are stolen, and
driven away to be eaten.

Nov. 19th. To-day we have made 50 cents each. This evening, as I was
passing through the village on my way to the trading-tent, I perceived
an old, drunken sailor cooking some nice steaks from the grisly bear. I
had never yet tasted the meat, and when I expressed a curiosity to do
this, a tin plate, with a generous slice of the savory meat, was placed
before me on the ground, with a bottle of brandy. The latter I eschewed,
while the former I chewed, and found it delicious--similar to young
pork. While we were enjoying the feast, the old sailor related to me a
remarkable instance of success in his own case a few days before. His
account was corroborated by others, who gave me some particulars which
he withheld. He was walking, or rather staggering, for he had been
drinking pretty deeply, upon the bank, below which the miners were hard
at work. As he was thus proceeding, singing as he went, he kicked his
foot against a stone, causing it to roll over. Turning around, and at
the same time raising his clinched fist, he began to curse the stone,
when his attention and oaths were all arrested together, for he saw at
the bottom of the hole from which the stone was displaced something
yellow and bright. In an instant he was upon his knees, knife in hand,
and soon held up a beautiful lump of nearly pure gold, valued at $500.
In one week he had drank and gambled the whole away. Such instances as
this have given rise to the opinion among the miners that the worthless,
drinking, and gambling characters have better success than the sober and
persevering laborer.

Nov. 21st. It is now about seven months since my last letter from my
family. My feelings may then be imagined when, late yesterday afternoon,
I heard there were letters for me at Fremont’s camp, eight miles
distant, over the mountain. Although suffering greatly from blistered
feet, I started early this morning, after passing a sleepless night.
Alas! what was my disappointment at finding my letters were from San
Francisco, soliciting the votes and influence of our company in favor of
the election of a candidate to some office! Indeed, it is not surprising
that, amid such trials and hardships, so many become disheartened, and
resort to forbidden and fatal pleasures and stimulants.

Dec. 1st. Finding all our efforts unavailing, and that none around us
were succeeding, we visited Aqua Frio some days since, and have now
removed here. There does not appear to be much doing here, but it is a
larger settlement, but few now remaining at Sherlock’s. It is, on this
account, more safe from the encroachments of the Indians, and provisions
are more easily obtained. These are, however, constantly rising. Each
dash of rain adds one or two shillings a pound to the price of every
article. This is owing to the fact that, as the rains render the roads
worse, the price for transportation proportionally increases. We are now
paying $1 50 a pound for provisions. The price of a barrel of flour here
would go far toward supporting a family at home for a year. Four pounds
of hard, moldy bread for our mule cost us about $6. And yet, with these
high prices, the miners in the best diggings in the region do not
average $1 50 a day. We have not done this.

Dec. 3d. Lying awake in my tent last night, I overheard three miners,
who had come in partially intoxicated at midnight to their tent, within
a few feet of us, talking over their plans. It seemed that one of them
had just weighed the gold they had made that day, and found it nine
ounces. They were to be up early, and start for the same place again. I
conformed my movements to theirs the next forenoon, with an experienced
miner for a companion. With our picks and spades, we soon reached the
place where they were at work. They were in the middle of the channel,
having turned the stream from its course, up to their knees in the mud
and water, while one of their number was constantly employed in “bailing
out.” We prospected near them for a few hours, as they told us many
others had done, unsuccessfully. They did not themselves expect to find
employment for more than two days, the deposit already beginning to
fail.

Dec. 4th. There was a large fall of snow last night, which pressed so
heavily upon our tent that it fell in upon us; but we kept our beds till
morning, the bank of snow above us adding not a little to the warmth of
our blankets. I went down, after breakfast, to the diggings, and
brushing away the snow, and breaking the ice, attempted to wash out some
gold in a pan; but I made nothing. Becoming thoroughly chilled, with my
hands and feet frost-bitten, I returned to my tent; but here it is
almost as bad. The canvas, of which our tent is made, is under the snow,
our provisions _scarce_, the fire out, and the day very cold. Two of my
companions, feeling the pressure of hunger, went to the tent of an
acquaintance, where they found some venison steaks and bread, which had
been left at breakfast. They made their dinner from these, being
comforted by the thought that some ciote or stray dog would bear the
blame. What renders our situation more deplorable is the want of proper
clothing. Good boots are so scarce that $96 are readily given for a
pair.

A miner related in my hearing to-day the manner in which he employed
others to work for him. He marked off a claim ten feet square, and
commenced digging in one corner of it. Finding it likely to be a more
serious job than he anticipated, and being tired of it, and yet not
willing to abandon it without knowing what lay at the bottom, he
concealed several pieces of gold, one weighing two ounces, in a corner
of his claim. Watching his opportunity when several persons were near,
he artfully uncovered one of the lumps, seeming, at the same time,
anxious to conceal it. In a few moments several spectators were eyeing
his movements. Soon he turned up two or three more small pieces, and
then the larger one. In ten minutes the ground all about him was marked
off, and many picks and shovels were employed in prospecting for him,
while he went back to his tent, pleased with the success of his
maneuver. Several good offers were made him for his claim, and, had he
been so disposed, he might have made a good bargain; but he was
satisfied with the amount of labor he thus procured. In many cases the
grossest impositions have been practiced. Persons have scattered gold in
the dirt of a claim they held, then have offered it for a high price,
exhibiting a pan full of the rich soil as a specimen. We have now spent
many days at Aqua Frio without finding any prospect of success; on the
contrary, being involved in debt; and have determined to break up our
camp, and, disposing of our tents, cooking utensils, &c., to retrace our
steps toward Stockton. One of our company is disposed a little longer to
try his fortunes--or rather his misfortunes--at the Marepoosa mines.
Another remains in his lonely grave. All the others, excepting myself,
intend to return to San Francisco, and, as soon as they are able, to
leave for home.

On Monday, Dec. 10th, we started with a mule-train bound for Stockton,
which took a few pounds of freight for us, while I packed twenty pounds
upon my back. The first day we traveled fifteen miles over the
mountains, and saw hundreds going to and from the mines. Burns’s tent
was so filled with travelers that we were compelled to sleep out in the
open air, which was so severely cold that the water froze by our side.
The next night we slept at Montgomery’s ranch, after walking
twenty-three miles. Spreading our blankets down upon the ground, beneath
a canvas roof, we slept so closely packed that no person could have
stepped between us. For breakfast we had tea, hard bread, beans, and
pork, and a few pickles, for all which we paid $2 each. The following
day we traveled in the rain twenty-five miles, fording the Tuolumne. My
companions had all dropped behind, half frozen and tired out, seeking
shelter and rest in some trading or eating tents we had passed. I pushed
on with the mule-train, hoping at night to reach a comfortable shelter;
but night found us completely exhausted, and far from any settlement.
The company traveling with the mule-train had a tent, but there was no
spare room which they could offer me. I had to make up my mind to spend
the night alone in the drenching rain, and it was a night I shall never
forget. A large log-fire was burning, by which I sat till a late hour,
when I happened to remember that I had seen a large hollow tree by the
road side, at some little distance from our camp. Taking a blazing
brand, I went and examined the tree, and found that the hollow would
afford my body a shelter by sitting upright, and leaving my feet exposed
to the rain. I kindled a fire, collecting some brush and bark with which
to replenish it during the night. Then, with the ax I had borrowed, I
removed a quantity of dead leaves and filthy rubbish accumulated at the
bottom of my cavern. To my alarm, I found among this rubbish fresh marks
of a large bear, which had lately found refuge here from a storm such as
now drove me to its shelter. But there seemed no alternative, and I
thought, besides, that my fire would be a protection against wild
beasts; so I wrapped my blankets about me, and, sinking down into my
novel bed, with my feet in a cold bath, I listened to the pattering of
the rain, thinking of those far away. Soon my fire began to fail, and I
had placed the last piece of bark upon it, and fallen asleep. When I
awoke it was pouring in torrents, and my fire was entirely out. Then
came thoughts of the bear, and I instinctively drew in my legs, not
wishing to place temptation within his reach, should he be prowling
about me. It would not do; I was nearly frozen; the water began to find
its way into my bed, which I apprehended I should soon be compelled to
share with old Bruin. Then it was so dark. I got up, took my blankets
over my arm, and started to return to the log-fire, which I saw dimly
burning in the distance. In my haste, I forgot that there was a bend in
the bank of the stream below us, making it necessary for me to take a
circuit round in order to reach my companions. I soon found myself
lodged among the bushes and stones at the bottom of the bank. Then came
over me a nervous feeling like a nightmare, and I could already feel
myself in the grasp of the grisly bear--his claws and teeth were in my
flesh. Dropping my ax, and every thing but my blankets, and losing one
of my shoes, I began an imaginary scramble and flight from my imaginary
pursuer. The remainder of the night I passed, wrapped up in my blankets,
by the log-fire. A walk of twelve miles the day following brought me to
the Stanislaus, where I was to separate from my companions, who had not
yet come up--they going on to Stockton, and I to the Stanislaus
diggings. The rain continued to pour down. Little dreamed our friends at
home of our situation then! With scarcely a dollar in our pockets, a
long journey before us, cold, hungry, and wet, our oppressed hearts were
ready to sink. Alas! little did I anticipate what a gloomy future was
before two of those companions! One of them was the only and the
idolized son of his parents, and tenderly and dearly loved by his
sisters. His home possessed every comfort and convenience. He had come
far from his father’s house to perish with hunger. He resolved, “I will
arise and go to my father.” But that father and that heart-broken mother
he was no more to see. A year after we parted--and oh! what a year of
suffering and privation must that have been--with that companion of his
boyhood and youth, he reached Chagres in most destitute circumstances.
To raise money enough to take him home, he engaged as a boatman on the
river, took the fever, and died. In consequence of my recent exposure, I
had a severe cold, and was entirely unable to travel; yet I had no means
of paying my expenses at a ranch. Under these circumstances, I crossed
the Stanislaus, went to the ranch of Mr. George Islip, a gentleman from
Canada, and told him my situation. “Give yourself no uneasiness,” he
said; “you are welcome as long as you choose to remain with us; all I
request of you is that you will feel yourself at home.” I passed a very
pleasant week with this noble-hearted man, and was treated as a brother.
The wind had blown down his house, and torn the canvas roof to ribbons,
and we were without shelter from the pelting rain; but warm fires, kept
up in the middle of the temporary shelter, made us comfortable. To
protect my body from the rain, I would creep under the table, managing
to keep my feet near the fire. After a week of interesting and wild
adventure, I was set over the river by my friend, and started for the
mines again. The roads were very muddy, and the streams forded with
difficulty. In my first day’s walk I passed three wagons which were
mired--a common occurrence at this season of the year. There were many
dead animals by the road side. My Christmas eve I spent most cheerlessly
at Green Spring, and the next day reached Woods’s diggings. On the 26th
Dec. I visited Sullivan’s diggings, Jamestown, Yorktown, and Curtis’s
Creek. A residence in this portion of the mines was, in every way, more
desirable than in the more distant mines at this season. Provisions were
cheaper, and there was less danger of attacks from the Indians. All the
places I have mentioned, together with the Chinese diggings, Mormon
Gulch, Sonora, and others, were a cluster of mines lying near to each
other, and between the Stanislaus and Tuolumne Rivers. At each of these
places were trading tents and dwellings of the miners, chiefly of
canvas, with some log and hide houses, and one or two frame buildings.
Sonora is the principal of these, the residence chiefly of Mexicans and
Chilinos, of whom there are some twelve thousand. Here are furnished
provisions, clothing, tools, &c., at almost as low rates as at Stockton.
Its hotels, restaurants, and trading tents presented a very busy
appearance; and there is no place in the mines where gambling is so much
_the business_. Some comfortable houses have been erected here. After
visiting all the mines, and finding but indifferent prospects at any of
them, I located myself at Curtis’s Creek, to labor in the winter
diggings. I was without a companion, and had heard of a gentleman from
New England who was desirous of sharing his tent and provisions with
some one. He had been out of health, but was supposed to be improving.
My name had been mentioned to him by a friend before I arrived, and he
had expressed a desire to enter into such an arrangement as might be of
mutual advantage. He was considered a man of great intelligence and
worth; and it was partly with the hope of having him as a mining
companion that I had visited Curtis’s. His tent was a mile from the
settlement. Taking my roll of blankets, I walked over to see him. Judge
of my surprise, on reaching his tent, and raising the curtains at the
entrance, and stepping in, to find myself standing before a _corpse_,
laid out upon a hammock! I learned from a colored man, who soon came in,
that Mr. H. had died half an hour before. He was alone, and seemed to
have just been reaching from his bed for something. The last sentiment
to which he gave utterance was, “I believe I left home a moral and a
religious man; I have brought morality and religion with me, and, with
God’s assistance, I will keep them to the last.” Neither he nor others
supposed that he was dangerously sick. With the black man, I went out,
and we selected a spot beneath a large tree, and there we dug his grave.
The noon of the next day was the time named for the funeral, and notice
accordingly was sent to the various mines near by. It being
impracticable to provide a coffin, the body was wrapped in several
blankets, and a quantity of pine boughs spread at the bottom of the
grave. At the time appointed for the burial, most of the miners might be
seen leaving their various employments, and slowly walking in small
groups toward the grave. Another group--the bearers and friends--met
them, and all proceeded together on the way. How solemn and impressive,
under those circumstances, “the burial service” of the Church, which was
then performed. An appropriate hymn was sung, and the body laid in its
last repose, then covered with pine boughs, and the grave was filled up.
Having purchased the tent and a part of the provisions, I spent the two
following days, assisted by a friend--young Dr. R., of New Jersey--in
removing the tent, and preparing for the labors of mining. On the Sunday
following--the 30th Dec.--I was requested to go over to Woods’s diggings
and attend the funeral of a young man from Philadelphia. We had formerly
both listened together to the faithful preaching of the Rev. Mr. Fowles.
Could it have been anticipated, as I fixed my eye upon that healthy,
intelligent countenance at the close of the services, that in the wilds
of California I should so soon be called to pronounce over him the
solemn sentence--in this case sadly solemn--“_Earth to earth, ashes to
ashes, dust to dust!_” The brother of young A. was with him at the
mines, but he died alone. The next morning, the last of the year, Dr. R.
and myself started upon a prospecting excursion; and we returned at
night as wise, as rich, and a little more tired than we were when we
left in the morning.

Jan. 1st, 1850. It has rained hard all day. Engaged in washing and
mending clothes, cooking, writing, and reading. Before we separated for
the night, my friend, Dr. R., requested me to conduct “family worship.”
It was a simple request and a simple act, like every act of faith, and
appropriate to our situation and to the day, being the first of the
year. Only those who have experienced it, especially in a situation like
ours, know of the refreshing fountain of comfort which springs up in the
soul while kneeling before the throne of “our Father in heaven.” It was
family prayer; and we realized the delightful import of this expression.
The Being to whom we addressed our prayers was at that moment looking
with an eye of love upon each member of our dear families at home, and
our prayers would bring peace, protection, and blessings to them. It was
family prayer; and at that moment we felt the privilege of being united
with the great and happy family that worship the glorious and good Being
who loves and cares for all.

Jan. 2d. During the last night there was a robbery in the settlement,
which caused great excitement. A miner, formerly from Ohio, but who had
been many years in Oregon, where he had a pleasant home, had been
induced, by the hope of making a rapid fortune, to sell his valuable
property, and, taking his large family, to remove to the mines. There,
by hard labor and trading, he had laid up about $4000. Most of this sum
was in a trunk at the foot of the bed in their tent. During the night
this trunk was taken, and the next morning was found at some distance,
broken open, and the money gone. A boarder was immediately arrested on
suspicion, but, after a well-conducted trial, was released. We have made
37 cents each.

Jan. 3d. It has rained hard most of the day, and there was some thunder,
a very unusual occurrence in California. Spent a part of the day and all
the evening with Dr. R., singing, reading, &c. At the close of our
pleasant interview, again we “lifted the heart and bent the knee” in
prayer to Almighty God. In our visits to each other on these rainy days,
like the ladies at home, we often take our sewing with us. To-day I took
a pair of stockings to darn, one of my shoes to mend, and the
“Democratic Review” to read. While we plied our needles, our tongues
were equally busy speaking of mutual friends and hopes.

Jan. 4th. It has been clear to-day, but, owing to the high state of the
water, we could do but little. I have been favored with an introduction
to Captain Wadsworth, of Connecticut, a descendant of the captain of the
same name who is famous for having concealed the charter of the colony
in the Charter Oak. He cordially invited me to share with him a
pleasant house which he had spent some weeks in building, and which was
more comfortable than any thing I had seen in the mines. The house was
about ten feet square, inclosed by split rails, driven into the ground
perpendicularly side by side, and filled in with clay, the whole covered
with a tight canvas roof stretched over the rafters. The chimney was
large, and, when well filled with blazing wood, imparted an air of
comfort to every thing. We enjoyed luxuries uncommon in the mines--a
table and chairs. I soon found myself at home here.

Jan. 5th. It rained again; but we could not afford to be idle, though we
made a mere trifle by severe and exposing labor. To-night we have
weighed our week’s earnings, and find that they amount to $1 80. It is
more trying to the miner to be compelled to spend a day in idleness than
to engage in the most severe labor, even though that labor be
unprofitable. I have often been driven out by my own anxious thoughts to
work in a severe rain.

Jan. 6th, Sunday. A cloudy, unpleasant day. This forenoon, made a
“duff;” but what was to be done for a string with which to tie the bag?
I looked every where, but in vain. At last I thought of my shoe-string,
which I used for this purpose. When all was ready, I found that the duff
was too large for the kettle, so I boiled one end first, and then turned
the other, and boiled that.

Jan. 7th. Prospected with Captain Wadsworth at the Chilian diggings.
This is an open, level field, through which a stream formerly ran, but
which now has so little water that many of the miners take the dirt to
the river to be washed. Here was a large settlement of Chilinos, who
have come from their own gold mines to try their fortune here. They
often bring their families with them. I saw one family, the father of
which, assisted by the older children, was “panning out” gold on a
stream near his rude home made of hides. The mother was washing clothes,
while the infant was swinging in a basket made fast to the branches
overhead. An interesting girl of five years, with a tiny pick and spade,
was digging in a hole, already sunk two feet, and putting the dirt in a
pan, which she would take to the stream and wash, putting the scale or
two of gold into a dipper a little larger than a thimble. A heavy rain
drove us home, wet and cold. It continued to rain, with a few intervals,
during the remainder of the week; but a trunk of valuable books, owned
by Captain Wadsworth, served to occupy our minds. These employments,
with the writing of letters, singing, roasting our coffee, cooking,
visiting, &c., filled up the hours of these rainy days. We have made,
the whole week, $3 each.

I must again remind my reader that, if these details are uninteresting,
they are yet necessary as the filling up of a miner’s life. The bright
and glowing pictures presented to the public--the “news from
California”--“$2,000,000 in gold-dust”--“rich discoveries”--“new
diggings,” &c., must all be filled up with a back-ground of cloudy days,
of rainy weeks, broken hopes, privations, sickness, many a gloomy
death-scene, and many a lonely grave. With how much surprise, and often
indignation, do the miners read the “accounts from the mines,” which
come back to them in the newspapers from home! And with how much
satisfaction do they read the few truthful descriptions which they meet.

Jan. 13th, Sunday. The roads were so impassable to-day, from the late
rains, that I was unable to preach a funeral sermon at Woods’s, as I had
promised. There was preaching at Curtis’s in the forenoon, by a
Methodist, who gave us a good sermon, its only fault being its great
length. At the close, he invited all so disposed to attend a
class-meeting. Among others, a German, having an imperfect acquaintance
with our language, was called upon for his “experience.” With some
reluctance and hesitation, he arose, and said these few words: “I find
religion good when I do my duty; and when I don’t do my duty, I find
religion bad; but _I shall try to try_!” In the afternoon I selected for
my reading-desk and pulpit the stump of a tree which had been cut down,
on a level spot, in the midst of the settlement. The logs and large
branches of this tree had not yet been removed for fire-wood, and
furnished seats for my congregation. Our worship was very primitive, and
the whole scene would have been impressive to one of our assemblies at
home; but we remembered, to our edification, that God looks not upon the
outward appearance, but upon the heart. The singing was excellent,
conducted by a professor from the Boston Academy. After the preaching, I
invited all who wished to join a choir for mutual improvement in singing
to remain. A good number were present, and the professor was duly
elected chorister. Our arrangement was to meet before worship on Sunday,
and on Wednesday evenings, and devote two hours to this delightful
employment. Those hours I shall not soon forget. Sometimes, when some
old familiar tune was sung, which brought each one’s home circle before
his mind, silent but eloquent tears would start in many eyes.

Jan. 14th. In company with Captain W. and Dr. R., selected a spot where
a mountain ravine opens into the river, and a few yards below the place
where a company of Frenchmen took out, a few months since, a large
amount of gold. Our best prospect was in the channel of this mountain
stream. We spent some hours in diverting the stream from its course by a
dam and a canal on a small scale. Then, by bailing, we succeeded in
opening the channel. Most of the upper soil, with the stones, must be
removed, nearly to the primitive rock below, often a distance of some
feet, always ankle or knee deep in the mud. We were greatly encouraged,
in the present instance, by an indication of gold rarely presented.
About four inches from the surface of the ground, and in the loose upper
soil, I found a lump of gold weighing nearly three pennyweights. Greatly
cheered by this circumstance, we worked away with spade and pick, with
cradle and pan, hour after hour, and were rewarded by finding in our
treasury at night a few bright scales of gold, amounting to 25 cents.

Jan. 15th. This morning, notwithstanding the rain, we were again at our
work. We _must_ work. In sunshine and rain, in warm and cold, in
sickness and health, successful or not successful, early and late, it
is work, _work_, WORK! _Work or perish!_ All around us, above and below,
on mountain side and stream, the rain falling fast upon them, are the
miners at work--not for _gold_, but for _bread_. Lawyers, doctors,
clergymen, farmers, soldiers, deserters, good and bad, from England,
from America, from China, from the Islands, from every country but
Russia and Japan--all, all at work at their cradles. From morning to
night is heard the incessant rock, rock, rock! Over the whole mines, in
streamlet, in creek, and in river, down torrent and through the valley,
ever rushes on the muddy sediment from ten thousand busy rockers.
Cheerful words are seldom heard, more seldom the boisterous shout and
laugh which indicate success, and which, when heard, sink to a lower ebb
the spirits of the unsuccessful. We have made 50 cents each.

Jan. 16th. A friend put into my hands to-day a copy of the Boston
Journal. We laid it aside to read in the evening. But how was this to be
accomplished? The luxury of a candle we could not afford. Our method was
this: we cut and piled up a quantity of dry brush in a corner near the
fire, and after supper, while one put on the brush and kept up the
blaze, the other would read; and as the blaze died away, so would the
voice of the reader. Our work to-day has amounted to 80 cents each.

Jan. 17th. A very rainy, cold day. As Captain W. is sorely afflicted
with an eruption, which covers his whole body, probably the effects of
having handled the “poison oak,” which grows over the whole country, we
conclude to remain in, and finish the paper. Cutaneous diseases are
cured by the use of the soap-plant--_amole_. Captain W. has tried it
to-day, and been greatly benefited. We use it in bathing, washing
clothes, dishes, &c.

Jan. 18th. It has continued to rain. There has been some excitement in a
ravine near where we were at work. A company of six men found a place
from which they have taken out $18 to each every day through the week.
The place is now thronged. Every foot is taken up; and yet, of the
hundreds there, not five have made more than their living. Some only
made 12½ cents. We have worked there to-day, and made $2 each. This
evening we have had a pleasant meeting of our choir.

Jan. 19th. A fine day. We have made $1 each. Upon the bank of Curtis’s
Creek, two men to-day opened a rich deposit, and have brought to their
tent $105, while two others, hearing of their success, commenced just
above, and a company of five more below them. Those above in a short
time took out $64, and those below, $112. These instances of success,
being talked of at noon, created a great excitement. This afternoon the
bar presented a busy scene, and before night every foot of the lower
part of the bar was marked off and claimed.

Jan. 20th, Sunday. The singing and religious services were held to-day
in the trading-tent of Mr. Capps. My reading-desk was a brandy-cask; and
perhaps this might be said in favor of the change--it had long enough
been appropriated to the service of Satan, and its conversion to a
better cause was not undesirable.

Jan. 21st. The report of the success on the bar below on Saturday has
gone abroad and done its work. Many miners, much excited by the rumors,
greatly exaggerated by passing through the mouths of the traders, have
begun to come in. New tents are springing up, and new faces are seen;
but success through the day has been confined to the one deposit, which
proves to have run in a rich vein for some sixty feet, occasionally
disappearing, but always coming up again in the same line. A company of
six miners, from Illinois, made over four pounds of gold last week, then
gave up their claim, supposing it exhausted, to some friends, who made
three pounds more from it to-day.

Jan. 22d. In company with several experienced and successful miners,
went to some of the tributaries of the Tuolumne. We had gone three miles
from home, and were prospecting some of the higher ravines, the lower
being too full of water. It had been cloudy when we started, but we were
so accustomed to the rains of this country that we felt no concern; but
about noon a severe, cold wind sprung up, driving before it a storm of
snow. It came cutting and freezing into our faces. It was one of those
evils which must be met. I carried a spade in one hand, and a crow-bar
in the other; and that piece of cold iron penetrated into my soul. I
thought I had never before experienced the sensation of pure, unrelieved
_cold_. The ice-water into which I plunged my hands half an hour since,
on my return, felt warm. We were not at all prepared for such an event.
Ah! this mountain ramble, the heavy snow-flakes and hail pelting in our
faces, our hands and feet almost frozen, have gone far toward curing us
of any slight remains of the “yellow fever” which may have been clinging
to us!

Jan. 23d. A clear and cold day. The ground is covered with snow. Alone I
went to my cold and cheerless work. Those who are counting their bright
yellow coins think little of the privations which have been undergone,
the agonies which have been endured--think not of the living death, the
dying life it has cost to draw from the mines their golden eagles. Made
to-day 75 cents.

Jan. 24th. Last night it was intensely cold, and near morning commenced
snowing, which it has continued to do the whole day. A mail-agent has
come in to-day, and still no letters for me. It is now thirty-nine weeks
since my last letter from home was dated. I would purchase one line from
my wife with all the gold I have made during those thirty-nine weeks.

To-day, while a friend was seated by me, before Captain W.’s blazing
fire, we were speaking of the great number of persons who come to the
mines, and, after working a few days, become discouraged, and abandon
mining. He related the following instance, which he knows to have taken
place. A merchant from New York recently came up with high expectations,
having made all his arrangements and preparations to carry on mining for
one season. The fascinating interest which invests this whole subject at
a distance had drawn him on. Being a strong and vigorous man, blessed
with the grace of perseverance, he attributed the want of success, of
which so many complained, to their indolence or want of energy. The
question he frequently put, on his way to the mines, was, “How much may
be made by _hard and persevering_ labor?” as if he thought that _such_
labor must succeed. He reached the mines--saw, on the bar below him,
some miners _hard_ at work. As he watched them, he thought, “That,
indeed, is hard work, and here is an opportunity to judge for myself.”
He directed the muleteer to wait while he went down to the bar. There he
saw the preparations which had been made for washing, the stones and
dirt which had been removed before the gold could be reached. He saw the
men at the bottom of the pit, knee deep in mud, filling the buckets. He
followed those buckets to the cradle, watched the operation of washing
the dirt through, the cradle. As they prepared to wash down in pans, he
inquired, “How many buckets of dirt have been washed to procure the gold
now in the machine?” “Twenty-five,” was the reply. “And how many buckets
can be washed out in a day?” “Sometimes more and sometimes less; we wash
out one hundred and fifty.” “How many men in your company?” “Four.”
“While these inquiries were going on, one of the company was panning
down the gold, and brought it to where they were seated upon some rocks.
“How much gold is there in that pan?” he eagerly inquired. One said
there was $2, while the others thought there was not so much. It was
weighed, and found to be $1 62. He could make his own calculations of
their day’s labor. The sum total was $9 72; for each of the four men,
$2 43. He looked about him. There was all that pile of rubbish to be
removed--enough to employ them the whole day--before they could wash the
gold at all. “Where are your tents?” he asked. “We have none.” “Where
are your provisions?” “This money is to purchase them.” “You had better
purchase mine, which can be done cheap, as I shall be on my way to San
Francisco in ten minutes.” And to San Francisco he returned, and in
three weeks was established in a commission auction store.

Jan. 28th. Since my last date it has rained constantly, and some of the
time in torrents; but little work has been done. Yesterday a miner was
tried for stealing a small amount of gold, and, upon conviction, was
sentenced to receive five lashes, and to leave the mines in five days.
Reports have been circulating among us of some large lumps of gold
having been found at Sonora, one of which, it is asserted, weighs
seventy pounds.

Jan. 29th. It is a lovely spring morning, but the water is so high it is
impossible to work. The notes of the robin, the thrush, and the American
nightingale are heard, bringing back thoughts of the homes we have left.
The miners are beginning to talk of the summer diggings upon the rivers.
Many parties have gone on exploring expeditions, and it is said that
thousands of miners have all their provisions purchased, and but await
the melting of the snow from the mountains to cross over and take
possession of the _real_ El Dorado. Very little is doing here. We are
not averaging a dollar a day on the whole creek. A gentleman from New
England has just been telling me that he left a business, when he came
from home, which enabled him to lay up $500 a year; but that, since he
left home, which is now over a year, he has not made $200. Surely not
enough to support him. A newspaper, which has strayed into the mines
to-day, brings the astounding intelligence of the murder of Dr. Parkman,
and the arrest and trial of Professor Webster as the murderer.

Feb. 2d. Prospected to-day with Mr. L., of Livingston Manor, upon the
Hudson River. Mr. L. has a quiet, easy way, as he is seated upon some
rock, examining the dirt, and turning over the stones at the bottom of
some hole, which gives the impression to any one who may happen to be
looking on from a distance that he is picking up pieces of gold. We were
thus seated to-day, and he was scraping the clay from a stone, and
showed me several small scales, when two miners, who had been working
all day above us, hurried down, and eagerly asked what we _had_ found.
They would not believe when we told them, but sat there an hour,
watching every movement, ready, on the appearance of the lumps, to take
possession of the next claim. Miners practice many arts to deceive
others with regard to what they may be doing. Especially is this the
case if they are doing well, when they generally say they are doing
nothing, reasoning as did Sir Walter Scott after he had published
“Waverley,” and wishing to conceal his authorship. People had no right
to ask if he was the author, and therefore it was right for him to
deceive them. I found it was better to tell the truth. The very purpose
of concealment was thus better accomplished, for, speak as you might,
you were sure not to be believed, and you were thus spared the sin of a
falsehood. The only indication by which I came to judge that miners were
doing well in any place was to find them early and late, and constantly,
at their work. Our prospecting gave us 25 cents each.

Feb. 4th. This is a day to be remembered. _Letters from home!_ If any
one would learn the full significance of these words, let him pass ten
months in California without one word from his loved ones, an unhappy
exile from his own family. They may be sick, suffering, dying, and he
who should be near them, to care for, and protect, and comfort them, is
far away, and knows not their condition. It is an era in the mines--the
arrival of the mail-agent. How cheerfully are our two dollars a letter
paid. It was like receiving back my family from the _dead_--those
letters, after so _long_ and _weary a silence_. I am _happy_, and I am
_miserable_! I am _calm_, and I am _fearfully excited_! It is an era in
the miner’s life when such, although tardy, messengers reach him. I have
been present when many of these have given up to their owners their
treasures of love or their burden of wretchedness. One has just opened
his letter, and bursts into immoderate weeping. I inquire the cause. “My
wife and child are both dead!” A physician of one of the hospitals told
me that they dared not give their letters from home to those who were
very sick; that in several instances they had seen persons in this
condition, upon reading their letters, turn over and die.

A party of individuals, from the ranches on the plains below, passed us
on their way to the headwaters of the Tuolumne, in pursuit of Indians
who had stolen some of their mules. They were joined by numbers of the
miners.

Feb. 5th. There is some excitement with regard to a bar one mile above
us. Captain W. and myself have spent the day there, and have made $5 37
each. The lump of gold found at Sonora, and which, it was said, weighs
seventy pounds, weighs only twenty-two pounds. The miner through whom I
received my information had a claim next to the one in which this lump
was found. It lay within two inches of the very spot where he was at
work. One blow of his pick would have given him possession of it.

Feb. 6th. We have to-day made 75 cents each.

An interesting instance of success happened recently in a gulch upon the
Stanislaus in our vicinity. Two young men, on their way to the mines,
heard of this gulch, and concluded to commence their mining at that
place; but, when they arrived there, they found the whole ground,
considered favorable, occupied. Not knowing what to do or where to go,
they made their first essay in a small ravine, across which a log was
thrown for the convenience of the crowd constantly passing. In this
ravine, and by the side of that log, they dug their hole. They came to a
crevice in the rock, and saw opened before them a sight which makes the
miner’s heart glad--pounds of pure virgin gold, lying in lumps and
scales, but awaiting their slightest effort to transfer it to their own
pockets.

Feb. 7th. This forenoon my share was 25 cents. In the afternoon visited
Yorktown. The diggings here are at a distance from any stream, upon the
plain; but it is probable the stream once ran over the ground where the
gold is now found. Before the gold can be taken out, excavations must be
made, from twelve to twenty feet in depth. One cup showed about eight
ounces of beautiful gold taken out in five hours; but it must be
remembered that three men had been hard at work “clearing off” for seven
days, during which time no gold had been made. This work is so severe
and exposing that many at Yorktown are sick with rheumatism.

Feb. 8th. We divide to-day 12 cents to each man.

The party previously mentioned, who went out in pursuit of the Indians,
returned late last night, having with them the scalp of one Indian,
which they had taken after decoying him into ambush. They had mutilated
the body, and then dragged it about with ropes, made fast to the pummel
of the saddle. They rode through the settlement, almost too drunk to
keep their seats, firing their guns and pistols, while from their mouths
issued volleys of shrieks and imprecations. It must be mentioned, in
justice to several who started with this party, that, becoming disgusted
with the proceedings of their companions, they left them, and
consequently must not share in the disgrace of these transactions.

Feb. 9th. We visited a wild mountain ravine, and made $4 10 each to-day.

Feb. 11th, Monday. In the same place, we have made to each $5 62.

Feb. 12th. Have made 15 cents.

Feb. 13th. I must place a cipher against all our labors to-day. How
expressive the miner’s phrase, “Worked out!” Others may go after him and
make pounds of gold; but, do what he can, labor as he may, become
discouraged and leave, then return again and again, for him it is
“_worked out_,” and with “longing, lingering looks,” he at length
abandons it as a hopeless task.

Feb. 14th, Mormon Gulch. The rainy season seems to have passed. To-day,
in company with several companions, who purpose trying the ravine and
dry diggings with me, came to this place. This is a settlement about
four miles from Curtis’s. We found considerable excitement existing at
Woods’s as we came through. A miner, who was well known and esteemed,
was found near that settlement murdered. He started yesterday, with
considerable gold, intending to establish himself in some business in
Stockton. His life was taken for his money.

A quartz mountain near Woods’s, rising abruptly from the valley, and
showing its glittering white crest at its summit, drew our attention.
Some experiments have been made here to obtain gold from the rock, but
thus far without success.

All the winter encampments are breaking up. The miners are on the move.
The log and stone houses, and sometimes the tents, are deserted. Within
a short distance, we saw over three hundred pack-mules, moving about in
every direction.

Feb. 18th. Have spent the time since my last date in collecting the
statistics of winter mining from numerous miners in the various
encampments near me, and in writing to those at a greater distance. Have
brought over our effects to Mormon Gulch, and selected a spot upon which
to pitch our tent, at the foot of a mountain torrent, which descends
here almost at once--sometimes playfully, sometimes angrily--into the
valley. The mountains on both sides are high and precipitous. Directly
at the foot of the cascade, it widens out into a kind of bar. Upon this
we have selected a spot for our home. It is altogether one of the most
romantic spots I have ever seen. From this place we have a view of a
picturesque valley below and a wild cascade above us. When the stream is
swollen after a heavy rain, the cascade loses its beauty, but becomes
madly wild. Before we had erected our tent, the clouds, which had been
lowering over us, began to pour down their contents upon us. We were all
unprepared. Our provisions, clothing, and blankets were all wet. We
find--too late, alas!--that we have committed the same kind of error
with Cowper’s birds, who anticipated pairing time, and built their nests
too early. We had thought the winter over and gone, and the rainy season
past, and, leaving our winter homes, had only a small and leaky tent for
our shelter. There are four of us in company. Two of these are young
friends, like brothers, who left home, and have since remained together,
industrious, sober, and worthy young men, formerly in the employ of one
of the Lawrence manufacturing companies. The third is a
sailor--noble-hearted, sincere, frank, and full of fun and glee, yet a
most persevering and hard-working miner.

Feb. 20th. Our first day’s labor has given to each of us 45 cents. We
have worked in a loose, talcose slate, on the edges of the stream. The
gold is here coarser than in the rivers.

Feb. 21st. Have to-day made $1 each. Finding a place which seemed
favorable, lying upon the bed of the stream, we began to dig down and
throw off the top soil. We were soon interrupted by some persons, who
said we could not work there, as they claimed it. We inquired why they
had not left their pick or spade there, according to the custom. They
replied that all the miners there were bound to stand by each other in
maintaining their claims, which were known to each other. We find that
most of the ground is held in this way, without being marked off or
designated. The present alcalde, it is said, holds thirty of these
claims.

Feb. 22d. Two of the company went over to the Stanislaus to prospect. In
the place of gold, they brought back with them a bouquet of wild
flowers, which would have graced the centre-table of any parlor. Our
day’s labor gave $1 12 to each. We have been ejected from two claims
to-day, after working some time upon them. It seems that comparatively a
few persons have undertaken to monopolize most of the gold soil in the
gulch. They have driven off a large number of French miners from what is
called “French Bar,” and have likewise taken possession of that.

Feb. 23d. We have to-day divided our forces. Two of us commenced sinking
a hole upon French Bar, while the others went to a small stream running
through an extent of table-land on the top of the mountain. Those on the
bar below, of course, labored without present remuneration, as a deep
excavation must be made, requiring our united efforts for a week or ten
days. Those on the hill have made enough to divide $5 10 to each of us.

Feb. 25th. Those from the mountain have brought home $5 60 to each. We
have been delayed in our work in the valley by the caving in of the dirt
upon us, owing to the rain. At last we were compelled to abandon it for
the present.

During the last night we had a violent snow-storm, which broke down our
tent over our heads.

Feb. 26th. We commenced working upon another claim, but were again
driven from it. Appealed to the alcalde, who decided against us, but at
the same time pointed to another place, farther from the stream, where
he advised us to work. We had spent two hours in digging here, when two
miners laid claim to the ground, and soon brought the alcalde, who said
it was a misunderstanding, and that he had intended to give us another
place, upon which he then stood. There was then no doubt, and we worked
all the afternoon upon that place. From the mountain we received $1. 87
each. To our joy, we have found a plant which makes an excellent salad.
It grows abundantly about us. We have lived so long without vegetables
that this is a luxury.

Feb. 27th. It has been a cold day, with occasional dashes of snow. On
reaching our claim in the valley, we found a miner in possession. On
appealing to the alcalde, who had so decidedly given us the place only
yesterday, to our surprise he again decided against us. Those upon the
mountain made $6 62 to each of us. We all abandoned the valley, only
retaining our claim upon the French Bar, where we left our crow-bar as
our legal representative.

Feb. 28th. We had barely reached our place of labor this morning, upon
the mountain, when it came on to rain so violently as to drive us home.
We have spent the day in our tent, reading, writing, cooking, and
sleeping.

March 4th, Monday evening. We have been kept from work for several days
by the rain. Improved the time in prospecting upon the Stanislaus. Heard
of a ravine near the Green Springs where much gold has been found. In
the fall, when I was at Mr. Islip’s, I met an eccentric man named Texas
Jack. He told me that, early in the spring previous, while passing to
the Stanislaus mines by a nearer path across the mountains, he had
prospected in a ravine, and from one pan full of dirt had taken nearly a
pound of gold. I took the direction to the place, but, having learned
not to be led by such wonderful stories, I never visited the spot. Some
miners, a few weeks since, happened upon this very place, and, before
their secret was discovered, had made $8000. Several others had done
well there.

March 5th. We have all worked together upon the mountain to-day. During
the forenoon the vein ran out, and was nowhere to be found again. We
made many trials, but without success. Made $2 06 each.

March 6th. We worked in a ravine where a few rich deposits have been
found. One of our number, while working with his knife, in a few
moments took out three lumps, which together were worth $21 75; but,
during the whole of the day, the others of the company did not make 25
cents. The fields and the mountain sides begin to be clothed with the
most beautiful and variegated flowers. I had heard and read much of the
flowers of California, but they far surpass my highest anticipations.
They spring up at the close of the rainy season, thrive amid frost and
snow, live a short life of exceeding beauty, and soon die, cut down by
the heat of the dry season.

March 7th. We were driven in by the rain this afternoon, after having
made $1 25 each.

March 16th, Saturday. Since my last date, more than a week since, we
have dug to the bottom of our claim, though it caved in several times
upon us. We were so deep in the ground that we could not throw out the
dirt, and were compelled to throw it up upon a platform, and then from
the hole. After digging down eighteen feet, we were troubled with water,
which came in upon us so fast as to require one to be kept bailing much
of the time. At last we reached the bottom, washed the gold-dirt
carefully, and, as the result of a week’s labor for four of us, we
shared the sum of $1 87. We have had severe and continued rains. Every
thing is completely drenched. Our clothes, our blankets, our provisions,
are all wet and moldy. Our fire is extinguished. The water stands in
puddles under the pine boughs beneath our blankets. We were compelled to
cut small drains from the middle of the tent to the large drain which
surrounds it, and throw away the wet boughs, which Jack calls our
feathers. Then we kindled a large fire in the tent to dry it. The
playful stream, which lately ran by us so harmless, now roars and rages,
and is yet rising. The miners are pitching their tents farther up the
hill.

March 17th, Sunday. It was a beautiful morning. The sun shone out clear
and bright. We hung out our clothes and blankets to dry. The birds sang
their sweetest notes. All things seemed to be filled with grateful love
to the Creator and Preserver of all. Surely our hearts should not be
less disposed to devout praise and adoration. It was pleasant to follow
in the services of worship, as we thought it was being conducted at
home, and to make a sanctuary of our own hearts. By allowing a
difference of about three hours between the time at home and here, we
could enjoy this pleasure, and, at the same time with friends so far
from us, be engaged in the duties of worship. These were the meetings of
the heart--the reunions of faith; and they strengthened us, and led us
to trust more sincerely in the good promises of our Father.

March 18th. Formed, to-day, a company for trading purposes. Three of us
gave each $100. With this $300, one of our number has gone down to
Stockton to purchase goods. The rest of us went over, this morning, to
the Stanislaus, to prospect. During the ramble, I had collected
twenty-nine varieties of flowers, some of them most beautiful.

April 1st. During the remainder of the month, and in the absence of our
companion at Stockton, we made but $4 28 each. The weather became
moderate, and the dry season seemed to be setting in. The wind kept
steady from the dry quarter. The peculiarities of a Frenchman working
near us have amused us. Rain or shine, he is always seen without his
hat. He carries his rifle over his shoulder, and several pistols and his
knife in his belt. When he reaches his claim, he puts down a pistol on
each side of him, and his hole resembles a fort, of which he is the
undisputed owner. He came from New York with his son. He was doing a
business there worth $2000 a year to him, and gave $5000 for their
outfit. In the ten months since he left home, he has made nothing.

There is a company here from York county, Pennsylvania, numbering
fourteen strong, hard-working men. They have made but $50 the last four
weeks, or an average of 14 cents a day to each one. During this time we
have been exposed, every or every other day, to severe rains or snows,
the ice being sometimes half an inch thick. Crowds of miners still flock
in here, attracted by the fabulous reports of the richness of these
mines. Some have done well--a few very well--while the miners generally
have not made enough to support them.

Our trading operation did not amount to any thing. The expenses of
traveling, transportation of goods, time, &c., ate up the profits. I
have to-day received a letter from some friends and traveling companions
from Philadelphia, inviting me to visit them with reference to some
mining operations for the summer. They are living at Jacksonville, on
the Tuolumne River, some miles distant from us.

April 2d. To-day have walked over to Jacksonville, where I was greeted
with a cordial welcome. This is quite a settlement. There are some
comfortable houses here. As in every other settlement, the houses are of
every possible variety, according to the taste or means of the miner.
Most of these, even in winter, are tents. Some throw up logs a few feet
high, filling up with clay between the logs. The tent is then stretched
above, forming a roof. When a large company are to be accommodated with
room, or a trading depot is to be erected, a large frame is made, and
canvas is spread over this. Those who have more regard to their own
comfort or health, erect log or stone houses, covering them with thatch
or shingles. I have seen some very good houses at Aqua Frio made and
roofed with slate. Some comfortable wigwams are made of pine boughs
thrown up in a conical form, and are quite dry. Many only spread a piece
of canvas, or a blanket, over some stakes above them, while not a few
make holes in the ground, where they burrow like foxes. The covers of
these sometimes extend above ground, and are roofed with a plaster of
clay, looking like so many tombs. The Mexicans and Chilinos put up rude
frames, which they cover with hides. In two cases I have seen a kind of
basket, looking like a large nest, made fast among the branches, high up
in the trees. These may have been used by the Californians to guard
against wild beasts. The huts of the Indians are of various kinds,
always rude in their construction. They are similar to the wigwams of
the wild Indians found in the Western States. There is one house,
however, which deserves a passing notice. It is named _Tamascal_. It is
made under ground, in the vicinity of the Indian settlement. In this the
sick and infirm are sweated. This is a barbarous custom, and often ends
the life of the poor patient.

We have spent much of the night in conversing on our plans, and I have
determined to remove to this place. My friend, Mr. A., invites me to
share with him his tent. He offers also to accompany me to Mormon Gulch
to-morrow for my provisions, &c.

April 4th. Yesterday we walked over to the Gulch, where I made my few
arrangements, received from my companions there the exact amount which I
had deposited with them for trading purposes, and, having taken leave
this morning, we returned, bringing sixty pounds between us, to
Jacksonville.




CHAPTER V.

SOUTHERN MINES CONTINUED.

RULES OF AN ENCAMPMENT--HART’S BAR COMPANY--ARTICLES OF
AGREEMENT--CANAL--AQUEDUCT--RESULTS OF MINING.


April 5th. Having arranged all our matters, also inclosed and dug up a
spot for a garden, and planted potatoes, turnip, cabbage, and other
seed, we started this afternoon, under the direction of Colonel M., upon
a scientific prospecting tour. This gentleman has spent his life in the
gold mines of Georgia, and possesses great experience and skill in the
business of mining. We spent some hours upon the Kanacca Creek, making
one excavation after another, down to the rocks, the colonel panning and
testing each. We had no success. The colonel could show a few specks of
fine gold in every pan, but, like all old miners, threw it out as not
worth preserving. Finding our efforts fruitless, we climbed the sides of
a high mountain, hanging over Jacksonville, to obtain a view of the
country. There was not much in the view to please, but we soon found
ourselves enjoying a most exciting sport. It was that of rolling down
large stones from the summit over the precipitous sides of the mountain,
and watching them as they rushed, leaped, bounded, crashing and tearing
far away into the valley.

It is yet too early to do much in the river diggings, except in the
making of canals, and other preparations for working the channel when
the rivers are low. A large company have been thus engaged at this place
for six months. Their canal is a stupendous work for this country, and
is intended to drain more than a mile of the river. They expect to make
at least $10,000 for each member. Their shares are sold at $1200. They
are governed by strict regulations, and their officers consist of a
president--a most worthy, efficient man--a vice-president, a secretary,
a treasurer, and a board of directors. They have some of America’s best
and most esteemed citizens. One of their number is B., of New England,
an original, and always full of fun. His wit and his anecdotes do much
to keep up the spirits of his companions. With his good humor, he
possesses also a good heart. One very warm day I passed the canal where
they had been at work, but were resting a short time under the shade of
a tree. As they were rising to resume their spades and picks, B. said,
“Keep your seats, gentlemen!” Then he continued, evidently under the
impression that his own quiet lounge was at an end unless he could
contrive to interest his listeners by spinning one of his yarns, “That
reminds me,” said he, “of an old lady in our town, who was very
self-conceited, and withal somewhat deaf. One Sunday she came to church
very late. As she entered, the congregation, which was a crowded one,
were rising for prayer. Thinking that the stir was on her account, and
that all were rising to offer her a seat, she spoke out, loud enough to
be heard half way up the aisle, ‘Keep your seats, gentlemen! keep your
seats! don’t rise for me!’ So, gentlemen,” he continued, pulling one of
his companions, who had risen, back again into his seat, “keep your
seats!” A stranger, standing upon the bank of their canal, and looking
down upon such a gang of Irish-appearing, hard-working miners, habited
in their red flannel shirts, rough as the grisly bear, long beards, long
hair, old hats, no shoes, or shoes variously patched, would hardly
believe that there were those among them accustomed to the etiquette of
Broadway and Chestnut Street, carrying beneath that rough exterior all
which made them valued friends and citizens, faithful husbands and
fathers. There was among them the nephew of Sir Robert Peele, who was
accustomed to the gayety and fashion of a life at court. The miners are
like the gold they seek, surrounded with dirt, rough looking, yet often
possessing that sterling worth which will give them currency among the
good, the gifted, and the beautiful.

As the bars upon our rivers are being occupied by such communities, it
may not be uninteresting to know by what rules and regulations such
communities are governed. Those here presented were drawn up by
experienced lawyers, and men of wise heads and good hearts, and may
serve as illustrating the mode of government common among the miners.

The following laws and regulations for the internal government of the
encampment of Jacksonville were passed at a meeting held in the town for
that purpose, in front of Colonel Jackson’s store, on the 20th of
January, 1850:


ARTICLE I.

The officers of this district shall consist of an alcalde and sheriff,
to be elected in the usual manner by the people, and continue in office
at the pleasure of the electors.


ARTICLE II.

In case of the absence or disability of the sheriff, the alcalde shall
have power to appoint a deputy.


ARTICLE III.

Civil cases may be tried by the alcalde, if the parties desire it;
otherwise they shall be tried by a jury.


ARTICLE IV.

All criminal cases shall be tried by a jury of eight American citizens,
unless the accused should desire a jury of twelve persons, who shall be
regularly summoned by the sheriff, and sworn by the alcalde, and shall
try the case according to the evidence.


ARTICLE V.

In the administration of law, both civil and criminal, the rule of
practice shall conform, as near as possible, to that of the United
States, but the forms and customs of no particular state shall be
required or adopted.


ARTICLE VI.

Each individual locating a lot for the purpose of mining, shall be
entitled to twelve feet of ground in width, running back to the hill or
mountain, and forward to the centre of the river or creek, or across a
gulch or ravine (except in cases hereinafter provided for); lots
commencing in all cases at low-water mark, and running at right angles
with the stream where they are located.


ARTICLE VII.

In cases where lots are located according to Article VI., and the
parties holding them are prevented by the water from working the same,
they may be represented by a pick, shovel, or bar, until in a condition
to be worked; but should the tool or tools aforesaid be stolen or
removed, it shall not dispossess those who located it, provided he or
they can prove that they were left as required; and said location shall
not remain unworked longer than one week, if in condition to be worked,
otherwise it shall be considered as abandoned by those who located it
(except in cases of sickness).


ARTICLE VIII.

No man or party of men shall be permitted to hold two locations, in a
condition to be worked, at the same time.


ARTICLE IX.

No party shall be permitted to throw dirt, stones, or other obstructions
upon located ground adjoining them.


ARTICLE X.

Should a company of men desire to turn the course of a river or stream
for the purpose of mining, they may do so (provided it does not
interfere with those working below them), and hold and work all the
ground so drained; but lots located within said ground shall be
permitted to be worked by their owners, so far as they could have been
worked without the turning of the river or stream; and this shall not be
construed to affect the rights and privileges heretofore guarantied, or
prevent redress by suit at law.


ARTICLE XI.

No person coming direct from a foreign country shall be permitted to
locate or work any lot within the jurisdiction of this encampment.


ARTICLE XII.

Any person who shall steal a mule, or other animal of draught or burden,
or shall enter a tent or dwelling, and steal therefrom gold-dust, money,
provisions, goods, or other articles, amounting in value to one hundred
dollars or over, shall, on conviction thereof, be considered guilty of
felony, and suffer death by hanging. Any aider or abettor therein shall
be punished in like manner.


ARTICLE XIII.

Should any person willfully, maliciously, and premeditatedly take the
life of another, on conviction of the murder, he shall suffer death by
hanging.


ARTICLE XIV.

Any person convicted of stealing tools, clothing, or other articles, of
less value than one hundred dollars, shall be punished and disgraced by
having his head and eye-brows close shaved, and shall leave the
encampment within twenty-four hours.


ARTICLE XV.

The fee of the alcalde for issuing a writ or search-warrant, taking an
attestation, giving a certificate, or any other instrument of writing,
shall be five dollars; for each witness he may swear, two dollars; and
one ounce of gold-dust for each and every case tried before him.

The fee of the sheriff in each case shall be one ounce of gold-dust, and
a like sum for each succeeding day employed in the same case.

The fee of the jury shall be to each juror half an ounce in each case.

A witness shall be entitled to four dollars in each case.


ARTICLE XVI.

Whenever a criminal convict is unable to pay the costs of the case, the
alcalde, sheriff, jurors, and witnesses shall render their services free
of remuneration.


ARTICLE XVII.

In case of the death of a resident of this encampment, the alcalde shall
take charge of his effects, and dispose of them for the benefit of his
relatives or friends, unless the deceased otherwise desire it.


ARTICLE XVIII.

All former acts and laws are hereby repealed, and made null and void,
except where they conflict with claims guarantied under said laws.

                                               ABNER PITTS, JR., Sec’y.

_Jacksonville, Jan. 20, 1850._


April 15th. Many rumors reached us respecting certain rich diggings ten
miles distant, among the mountains. They are named Savage’s diggings,
and lie upon or near the Rattlesnake Creek. Large numbers of miners have
been for some time going in that direction, while multitudes, who have
been but to be disappointed, are returning. One of our friends, the
president of the Jacksonville company, left for this place, promising to
send us back information as to his success. We were therefore much
gratified, the next day, to receive intelligence of the most encouraging
character, accompanied by a message for us to hasten up as soon as
possible. We made our arrangements very hastily--stewed venison, baked
several loaves of bread, and made some pies of the red berry called
_manzanita_, which has some resemblance to the cherry. It grows upon a
shrub ten feet high, the bark of which is smooth, and of bright orange
color. On the 11th instant we started for Savage’s diggings, in our way
clambering up one of the steepest mountains I have ever seen. After a
very fatiguing walk, we reached the ground by the middle of the
afternoon, and were so anxious to try our luck among the crowd of
adventurers, that we commenced prospecting at once. Our friend, who had
come up before us, had been successful the first day; but all this was
over before we reached him. Very little gold rewarded our labors. As
night came on, threatening to be a cold one, we prepared to pass it as
comfortably as we might. Piling up logs and brush, a bright blaze shed
its cheering influence upon us. Wrapping our blankets about us, and
stretching our feet to the fire, we slept soundly.

Our stay upon the mountain was brief. There was so little encouragement
that it was considered best to retrace our steps. Lame, hungry, and
tired, we arrived the next night at our encampment near Jacksonville.

During the following week we worked upon the banks of the river, with
but small success. One day we made $2 50 each, and the other days we
made nothing.

May 1st. Since my last date, we have not made enough to buy us our
provisions. Much of the time, my companions being engaged upon the
canal, I labored by myself. One day I made $6; and then, for a week, did
not average 6 cents a day: so uncertain is the employment of mining.
Cases are very frequent of persons making $100 in a day, and sometimes
in a single hour, and the whole week following making nothing. I heard
of a case which illustrates this point. A young man of rather indolent
habits, and without the perseverance and application which, it would be
supposed, are necessary to insure success in mining, happened into a
valuable claim. Hiring a man to aid him, he took out, in six weeks,
$4500. Near him was a company of six industrious and persevering miners.
They labored on assiduously, week after week, for a period of four
months, and at the end of that time they had all made about $1500. We
are hoping for better success in the river diggings when the water is
low. At present there is very little being accomplished. Laborers may be
hired at $2 50 and $3 a day.

May 15th. During the three days immediately following my last date, I
made, while working by myself, $17. Was invited to join a few miners
working near me, who intend to organize a company for the purpose of
mining at Hart’s Bar--a place two miles below Jacksonville--when the
river shall be low enough to be worked. All of these are Southern
gentlemen. One of them, a nephew of Commodore Turner, U. S. N., lost a
fortune by a sudden decline in the price of cotton, and, with the hope
of retrieving his condition, came to California. He has messing with him
two young friends, one from Annapolis, Maryland, the other from Mobile,
Alabama. There is also in the company a person who has spent eight years
in the gold mines of Georgia, and possessing great skill in tracing up a
vein of gold. I was not long in deciding to connect myself with them,
and the next day we labored together.

One day last week, as I was walking down from Jacksonville, where I had
been to purchase provisions, I saw a number of men dragging some heavy
object to the edge of a hill hanging over me. Presently they pushed it
over the brow, and it came tumbling, like a bag of wool, over and over,
down the side of the mountain. It was a grisly bear, which had just been
killed, and which weighed six hundred pounds. As the river was too high
to allow crossing that evening to my camp, I accepted an invitation from
the miner who had killed the bear to be his guest for the night. We
feasted upon the flesh, which was tender and sweet. During the following
week we had no success in gold-digging, the river being too high. It was
also too early to commence working upon our canal; but on May 10th we
organized into a company, put up stakes with flags, designating our
claim, and made advertisement of the same in Jacksonville, leaving a
certified copy with the alcalde. Then we adjourned, to meet for work on
the 4th of July, in the mean time having a common purse, and sharing
mutually in the profits of the whole till that time. A part of the
company went up to the Rattlesnake Creek, prospecting. At this time an
association--named the Adelphi Mining Association--was formed, chiefly
of miners from Jacksonville, numbering twenty-nine persons. Their object
was to drain a portion of the channel of Woods’s Creek, in which was a
deep hole, nearly the width of the creek, and twenty yards in length.
The place is two miles above the junction of the creek with the
Tuolumne. Much gold had been found all along the banks, encouraging the
belief that, could we drain the stream and work the bed of it, it would
“pay well.” The company was a very mixed one. There were the good and
the bad, the serious and the gay. As there was nothing else at this
time to occupy my attention, and as it was expected to work out the
claim before it would be possible to work in the river, I accepted an
invitation to join this company. With seventy pounds’ burden upon my
back, I walked up from Hart’s Bar, and accepted an invitation from a
miner to use his tent during his absence. Last night I slept upon the
ground, spreading my blankets upon a mat at the bottom of the tent. Here
I slept alone, and at a distance from any other encampment. This noon,
coming up to cook my dinner, a large snake crept from under the mat in
the tent, and quickly disappeared in a hole near by. With a spade I dug
him out, and, after killing him, found that he measured three feet ten
inches. I don’t know his name, but he has a flat head, looks very
brassy, and has a sharp horn at the tail. It answers the description of
the horned snake. It is said that, taking the end of its tail in its
mouth, it will form a perfect hoop with its body, rolling rapidly over
till it reaches the object at which it aims, upon which it inflicts a
severe, and sometimes fatal blow, with the horn in the tail. As I am
disposed to shun the society of such suspicious creatures, I have just
swung my hammock outside the tent, between two trees.

June 1st. The Adelphi Company commenced their labors on the 16th ult. We
were early at work, and toiled cheerfully on, sustained by the hope that
we were about to meet with success. I hardly dared to give myself up to
the bright, golden anticipations of my companions; and still they seemed
well founded and reasonable. The gold had been traced, in numerous rich
layers and veins, down to the very edges of the deep hole in the
channel. Doubtless, then, as it would naturally sink down, and settle at
the lowest point, washed in by every freshet, if that point could be
reached, we should find a rich deposit. A canal must be made so deep as
to drain the bottom of this hole, and then a dam must turn the water
around the hole, through a new channel. The canal was cut through solid
slate. The work was very heavy, requiring the largest bars and picks. We
worked all the time in the water. After nine days’ labor, we at length
completed the canal, which is about one hundred feet in length, four in
width, and five in depth. The only fear was lest it should not
effectually drain the hole, without which all our labor was lost. We
made the dam on the tenth day, and anxiously awaited the result. Fears
were expressed, but we left at night, to meet in the morning, by which
time the water would have been reduced to its level. In the morning we
were there, and found, after all we could do, that there were three feet
of water in the hole we wished to drain. Nothing but steam forcing-pumps
would have enabled us to prosecute the work, and we silently and sadly
abandoned it. I went up to my tent, and was there alone. All my efforts
had failed. I was already deeply in debt for my provisions. Had I any
prospect of success? Could I hope even to make enough to enable me to
return to my family? The future seemed dark to me. I was desolate and
disheartened. In the midst of my sadness and gloom, there came a
whisper! A voice dear to me had spoken it before in my sorrow; memory
now brought back the same voice, whispering to me,

    “Fear not, but trust in Providence!”

That voice had never failed to cheer and comfort me, and it failed not
now. That kind Providence had ever blessed me, and I could trust on, and
hope ever!

The gold-digger may not stand still. No stone must be left unturned--the
treasure may lie beneath the next. This is the miner’s work: he must
spend his efforts and his years in rolling over stones, even though his
heart is sick with hope deferred--it may be under the next.

I had cooked my dinner with my breakfast--some venison and bread, with a
dish of beans and a dipper of coffee. Going to take my dinner, I found
the whole gone--eaten clean and the coffee drank, probably by some miner
more hungry than myself. I acknowledged myself indebted to some one, as,
by taking my thoughts from myself, and giving me employment, he did me a
kindness.

The next day I came up into the mountains to join my companions at
Rattlesnake Creek. It was late at night when I reached their camp, which
was a wild spot beneath some trees. A camp-fire, dimly burning, lighted
me to the place. The pure mountain air and my long mountain ramble gave
me a good appetite, for which the kindness of my friends provided most
amply. Our prospect of success here is good. Some miners have done very
well. We have been engaged for a few days in turning the water of the
creek, that we may work in the channel. We lead here a strangely wild
life. As we had no mules to bring our provisions, implements for cooking
and labor, &c., we were obliged to bring them ourselves. We therefore
left behind us every thing which could by any possibility be dispensed
with. An iron pan, which we use for washing gold, serves also for
boiling our coffee. A frying-pan is our only cooking utensil. In this
one of the company--who leaves work before the others for the
purpose--fries some pork, which is rancid, and then, in the fat, fries
some flour batter. After it is done on one side, he tosses it whirling
up, catching it as it comes down upon the other side, which is then
fried in turn. We have neither knife, fork, spoon, nor plate. A spade
answers very well for a plate. We use coffee without sugar, bread
without salt, salad without vinegar.

Our prospects so far are not favorable. Four of us were at work, when a
pretty vein of gold was discovered, passing down the channel and into
the bank. We have to-day made $18 25 each.

June 2d. The vein has run up into the bank, and all our efforts to find
it are in vain. This wild mountain creek is fast filling up with miners.
Some considerable sums have been taken out. Along the whole length of
the creek are closely scattered groups of Mexicans, Chilinos, Indians,
Europeans, Americans. At the head of the creek, upon an extensive plain,
several large lumps of gold have been found, and a company has been
organized to drain and work the lower part of the plain.

June 5th. We are still at work at the old place--still hoping somewhere
to find the lost vein. We have sunk several holes at some distance from
the channel, in the bank, thinking thus to intercept the treasure we
have lost. While thus engaged, a messenger arrived from the head of the
creek--a settlement named “Big Oak,” located upon the plain I have
mentioned--calling for all the men and guns, as the Indians had attacked
them. Not having any inclination to join in the fight, I remained at the
camp. One American and a few Indians were killed, and several Indians
severely wounded. The quarrel arose between the chief of the Indians and
an American, who were both drunk. After the flight of the Indians, their
encampment was robbed, and it was with difficulty that a few humane
persons present interfered to prevent the cruel treatment of some aged
and sick females left behind.

June 8th. For several days the Indians have kept us in a state of alarm.
All the white men upon the creek were summoned to meet at a log house,
which they fortified, to guard against a night attack. It was said that
fifty Indian warriors from the Mercedes were on the way to attack us.
During the next day the excitement was increased by the rumor that the
attack was to take place during that night. Nearly all left for the
lower settlements, or assembled at the log house. We remained quietly at
our camp, only taking the precaution to extinguish our camp-fires.

June 9th. The Indians have to-day manifested their desire of peace by
returning to the settlement, digging up and burning, according to their
custom, the bodies of their chief and the other Indians who had been
killed. All is quiet, and the miners are returning in crowds. Mr. S.,
the Georgia miner, having heard that six Mexicans had made seventy-five
pounds of gold in ten days, in a ravine near us, went over to-day to see
the place. He found every foot of it occupied. There is much sickness at
the mines. Many whose cases would yield to a little kind nursing, if
they were promptly attended, become desperately ill, and often die from
neglect of the early symptoms. We often hear of instances of success in
mining, some of them most remarkable.

At Sullivan’s Camp, a few miles from us, a Dutchman followed a vein of
gold down to a large rock, which continually became richer as he
progressed. Aided by some friends, he succeeded in removing the rock,
and in two hours’ time took out forty pounds of the precious ore.

June 21st. Since my last date we have not made
enough to defray our expenses, but to day have added
to the treasury               $32.
  June 22d. Company made       50.
    “  23d. Sunday.
    “  24th. Company made      25.
    “  25th.    “     “        83.
    “  26th.    “     “        98.
    “  27th.    “     “        68.
    “  28th.    “     “        84.
    “  29th.    “     “         7.
                             -----
  In eight days              $447.

Dividend to each of five members, $89 40; average per day to each one,
$11 17.

The Sabbath is generally observed as a day of physical rest by the
miners. There are few who engage in mining upon this day. But all find
it indispensable to give attention to some necessary personal business.
In every encampment are found those who improve the day in reading the
Bible and other books, and in singing the songs of home in a strange
land. Still, it must be confessed, there is more gambling and drinking
upon that day than upon all the other days of the week. When there is
preaching at the mines, which is rarely the case, it is well attended,
and listened to with respect.

July 29th. We continued at Rattlesnake Creek till the 3d of July, but
without much success. On that day we came down from the high mountains,
to attend the meeting of the Hart’s Bar Company on the 4th. On our way
down, an old Californian showed us the valuable medicinal plants “Buena
herba” and “Canchalagua.” We found much alarm prevailing at Jacksonville
on account of the many murders recently committed in the vicinity. A
nightly patrol has been kept up. The river was very high. Several have
been drowned in attempting to cross. On the morning of the 4th we
endeavored to cross at the ferry. There were nine persons in a boat of
the ordinary size. Before putting out into the current, which runs very
rapidly by, we passed by a cluster of young trees and bushes in the
water. One of the passengers unguardedly caught at one of the bushes,
which caused the boat immediately to sway about and dip water. It was
instantly half full, and five of the passengers had jumped out, and were
clinging to the bushes. The others of us made our way as soon as
possible to the shore, and then contrived to rescue our companions from
their dangerous situation.

On that day dined with my kind friend A. from Philadelphia, on the bank
of the river, near Hawkinsville--a sort of pic-nic, with “porter for
two.” While in the village, I was introduced to a miner from Virginia,
whose brief history while at the mines is interesting. On his arrival at
San Francisco, about a year previous, he purchased a good supply of
provisions, which he packed upon mules, and with a muleteer he started
for Deer Creek. Not meeting with any person to direct him, he crossed
the creek, not knowing that it was such. Going on for some distance, he
came suddenly, and to his great alarm, to a settlement of Indians, who,
however, through his Mexican muleteer, expressed friendship and a desire
to trade. He was induced to pitch his tent, and remain with them. The
business proved so profitable, that he returned to Stockton for a larger
supply. In a short time he had many Indians working for him, and in a
few weeks was able to send home $17,000, retaining $3000 for his future
operations. Since that time he has had no success; had sunk the fund he
had retained, and was now working as a hired laborer for the means to
take him to his family.

On our way back we met the mail agent, who had letters for me. He
declines taking gold-dust to San Francisco, on account of the danger.
Remarked that he traveled feeling that he might be shot at any moment,
and that the assassin might be concealed behind the next bush. Twelve
murders have been committed within a week in and near Sonora. There is
so much alarm that a volunteer company has been organized, till a
regiment of dragoons can be ordered here. This state of things is no
doubt owing, in part, to the heavy tax imposed upon foreigners, which
deprives many of them of employment. In consequence, they become
desperate, often being destitute of the means with which to purchase
their daily supplies. They are accordingly driven to steal and to
murder.

The river being yet too high to allow us to commence our work upon
Hart’s Bar, we postponed our meeting for a week, and returned to the
mountains, hoping to find another vein of gold; but our efforts were not
rewarded.

On the 9th instant we came down to Hart’s Bar to attend a company
meeting; but the river being still too high for profitable labor, we
returned again to the mountains, where, and at Woods’s Creek, we have
worked till this time, not averaging 50 cents a day.

To-day we have come down to Hart’s Bar, to make all necessary
arrangements--lay in our provisions, purchase mining tools, pitch our
tents, erect brush arbors--before we begin the work. I have selected a
spot for my arbor-home, a little above the bar, on a gentle rise, and at
a short distance from the encampment of my companions, which consists of
a picturesque group of tents and arbors on the bar below. Just behind me
the mountain ascends abrupt and steep. I am making my arbor beneath a
large pine, the only tree upon the bar. It is called the
“medicine-tree,” because its pitch is used as a balsam for all burns and
bruises. This tree forms one of the supporters of my arbor. Driving into
the ground three posts, and putting poles across these, supported also
by branches of the pine, I have covered the frame thus formed with brush
and boughs, throwing them on the top, and interweaving them into the
sides. This forms for me a cool, shaded room, about ten feet square,
where I may find a shelter from the intense heat of the sun, which is
to-day 113° in the shade. Between a pin driven into the tree and a post
at the back of the arbor I have swung my hammock, in which, dressing
myself and creeping into the bag, as I have already described, I shall
spread my blankets over me. I can fancy this will be a sort of magnetic
telegraph office, whence, as soon as I am asleep, I shall be transported
home with lightning speed, and spend many a sweet hour with my distant
family. On a post in the middle of the arbor, which supports also the
poles and boughs overhead, I have left the short prongs, upon which I
hang my clothes, bags, &c., excepting the small bag containing my
letters and Daguerreotypes, which hangs upon the post at the head of my
hammock. My provisions are stored in the back part of my arbor, while my
kitchen is all out doors.

July 30th. We have to-day commenced our labors. So much has been said of
the mining operations upon the rivers, especially upon the Tuolumne,
which is believed to be very rich, that I am led, for the information of
my readers, to go more into detail in describing this, the closing
portion of my mining life. The gold is often found, in rich deposits, in
the channels of these rivers. To be obtained, the river must first be
turned by dam and canal. As this is an operation requiring the united
labor of many individuals, it is customary to form companies, which
elect their officers, form their laws, and mutually share the expense
and labor of the preparatory work, and also divide equally the profits.

The Hart’s Bar Draining and Mining Company was organized in May. The
following Articles of Agreement were adopted in July, at a meeting of
the company, when twenty-one entered their names as members, and elected
their officers. It should be remarked that mining associations enjoy all
the privileges and immunities of corporate bodies; their just claims and
rights are sacredly regarded; and any violence done to these rights
would be visited by the vengeance of all the miners for miles around. No
code of laws or staff of police could more fully establish a miner in
the possession of his ten feet square. No well-drawn writing, from the
royal charter down to the simple deed of conveyance, could be a surer
guarantee. He would not be obliged to wait a tedious process at law, or
pay his last dollar for a bill of ejectment. The work of restitution and
retribution at the mines is speedy, summary, and effective.

     ARTICLES OF AGREEMENT OF THE HART’S BAR DRAINING AND MINING
     COMPANY.

     PREAMBLE.

     We, the undersigned, having associated ourselves together for the
     purpose of draining and mining that part of the Tuolumne River
     known as Hart’s Bar, and to work out the portion of the bed of the
     river so drained, do adopt the following articles of agreement, to
     govern us in the prosecution of the said work:


     ARTICLE I.

     This company shall be known by the name of The Hart’s Bar Draining
     and Mining Company.


     ARTICLE II.

     This company shall not number over twenty-five members.


     ARTICLE III.

     The officers of this company shall be a president, a secretary--who
     shall likewise perform the duties of treasurer--and four directors,
     which shall be elected from its own body, in such manner as they
     may see fit, a majority constituting an election; and the officers
     so elected shall continue in office during the pleasure of the
     company.


     ARTICLE IV.

     It shall be the duty of the president to call all meetings of the
     company, and to preside at them. He shall put to vote all motions
     duly made, and, in all cases of a tie in voting, he shall give the
     casting vote.


     ARTICLE V.

     The duties of the president shall devolve on the chief director in
     all cases of his absence or disability to serve.


     ARTICLE VI.

     It shall be the duty of the secretary and treasurer to keep minutes
     of the proceedings of the company, and to take charge of all books
     and papers belonging to the office. He shall keep an accurate
     account of the time, as given him by the directors, and shall
     report to the company each Saturday evening, immediately after
     adjourning the work of the day. It shall likewise be his duty to
     take charge of all moneys belonging to the company, and to pay such
     demands upon the same as may come to him approved by the company
     and signed by the president.


     ARTICLE VII.

     The board of directors shall discharge the duties of engineers.
     Each director shall keep an accurate account of the time employed
     by each man under his charge, and shall report the same to the
     secretary every Friday evening. They shall superintend and direct
     all operations of the company. They shall divide the company into
     parties, each party to be headed by a director, who shall oversee
     their working, and take charge of the daily proceeds of the same,
     which he shall deliver to the treasurer every night, and take his
     receipt therefor.


     ARTICLE VIII.

     Of the proceeds arising from the operations of the company for the
     current week, ending on Friday, the treasurer shall make a report
     to the company on the next day, in the following manner: The weekly
     distribution shall be equal among the members, except in cases of
     absence, when an amount shall be deducted from his share
     corresponding with the hourly earnings of the company for the week.
     In cases of sickness or unavoidable absence, substitutes may be
     employed, if approved by the directors.


     ARTICLE IX.

     All specimens of unusual beauty or value shall be sold at auction,
     and the proceeds put in the treasury.


     ARTICLE X.

     The working time of the company shall be from seven to twelve
     o’clock A. M., and from half past one to half past five o’clock P.
     M.; and each member shall be charged at the rate of $3 per hour for
     the time he shall lose, to be paid at or before the regular meeting
     next after the one on which it is reported.


     ARTICLE XI.

     All amendments and additions to these Articles of Agreement shall
     be decided upon by a two thirds vote.


     ARTICLE XII.

     All applications for membership in this company shall be determined
     by votes with black and white pebbles; and two black pebbles shall
     exclude from membership.


     ARTICLE XIII.

     Any member wishing to sell his share, the company shall have the
     first right of purchase; which if they decline, he may sell it,
     but only to such person as the company approves.


     ARTICLE XIV.

     No member of this company shall be allowed to hold two claims on
     the river, capable of being worked, at the same time.

            *       *       *       *       *

     The following officers were elected: T. P. Hotchkiss, president; D.
     B. Woods, secretary and treasurer; William Marlatt, chief director;
     R. E. Thompson, second director; F. Ridout, third director.

I have received into my arbor, as a camp-mate, my valued friend M. He is
a young sailor--a man with a brave heart in danger, but with a kind
heart to those he loves--rough or gentle, like the ocean he has
navigated. He has to-day made a bed-frame, nailing some bags on the
bottom for sacking; also, some camp-stools, while the company’s
carpenter has made me a table; so that our mining home presents an
unusual air of comfort. We have sent to Stockton for a supply of
provisions. M. is a first-rate cook, and many of the dishes he can
furnish would be relished in any place where there are good appetites.
The living at the mines is much better than it has been. We have more
vegetables, better flour, and a greater variety of provisions generally.
Provisions are also cheaper than they have been at any time previous.

The work before us is truly an arduous one, made doubly so by the
limited means we have of prosecuting it. The clay for the construction
of our canal must be carried in hand-barrows, borne between two
persons, from the side of the hill down a steep bank, then along over a
stony path to the canal, a distance varying from one eighth to one sixth
of a mile; and this must be done day after day for weeks. Then the
lumber for the aqueduct is to be sawed by hand, from logs cut and rolled
from the tops and sides of the mountains, with whip-saws. This part of
the business is under the direction of a master architect from London.

Sept. 24th, 1851. We prosecuted both parts of our work at the same time.
A part were employed in carrying the clay to the canal. An account was
kept one day, and it was ascertained that each barrow was carried,
during the day, fourteen miles. Since my last date I have carried such a
barrow four hundred and twenty miles. The clay was put in large heaps,
where we could easily obtain it when it should be wanted in the making
of the canal. This was a most arduous undertaking. Sometimes it must
pass through a solid ledge of hard asbestos rock, and then through deep
holes in the river, where it has washed into the banks. In such a case,
a heavy wall, filled with clay, must be made. When completed, the canal
was six hundred and thirty-eight feet in length, and sixteen in width.
Making the aqueduct to convey the water from the canal, which passed
through Paine’s Bar, above us, was the most difficult task. The logs,
which were cut upon the mountain, were rolled to the pits, and then
sawed by hand. Piers were constructed by making crates of logs, which
were firmly pinned together, then sunk in their places by being filled
with large stones. Another large pier was made by rolling and carrying
stones into the river a distance of thirty feet. The sleepers of the
aqueduct were laid upon this and the laden crates. When it was finished,
it was a handsome piece of workmanship, of which we were justly proud.
It was one hundred and two feet in length, and twelve wide. This kind of
labor--yielding no remuneration, only being preparatory to the more
exciting, though laborious process of gold-digging--was prosecuted from
July the 30th to this date, Sept. 24th. We were awakened at dawn by the
second director, who came out before his tent, and sang, in a loud,
clear voice, “Up in the morning early, boys!” That song, which often
brought me out of my dreams, to this day I carry back into my dreams.
After a short time allowed for taking breakfast, the roll was called,
and we went to our daily labor. And oh! when night came again, how
sweet, after a bath in the river, was “the rest of the laboring man!” On
the 20th of September the pleasure was ours of seeing the whole channel
of the river opposite our bar laid bare for our operations. It was
_ours_, after contending with difficulties, privations, and hardships
innumerable, and of no ordinary kind, and which have deprived of health
many of our company. It was all _ours_, with the joyous anticipation of
soon receiving the reward of our efforts, and returning home with at
least a competence. About two weeks since--it was the 6th instant--we
were alarmed by a considerable rise of the river. While at breakfast
upon that day, the water of the river became suddenly muddy. Soon after
we perceived this, intelligence was brought down to us from the
Jacksonville company that they were expecting to see their dam washed
away. The river continued gradually to rise for an hour, when there was
a sudden freshet, caused by the giving way of some dam above us. We
hastened, with the aid of other companies, to open the head of the
canal, and to roll heavy stones into the aqueduct. The water came up to
the floor, then a few inches above it. We looked on, expecting to see
all our works, which we had spent weeks in completing, at once
destroyed. But the water ceased to rise, then slowly subsided, showing
behind it the wet ground and the line of foam, chips and dirt marking
the limits of the encroachment. Soon we were able to return to our labor
with lightened spirits, and some with other kinds. Many cradles,
buckets, and other things floated past us in the river.

The shares of the company immediately advanced several hundred dollars.
One share was sold for $1200, while $2500 was refused for another.

Two days since we commenced making a ditch under the wall of the canal,
to carry off the water which leaked through its embankments. Two cradles
were set, and the dirt from the bed of the ditch was washed through, and
in three hours there was deposited in the treasury $176.

Yesterday we continued to work upon the ditch, adding two more cradles,
and during the day made $415 75. At midnight, and in the rain, we were
called out to repair the walls of the canal, and stop several leaks. The
river was very high, and slowly rising. After several hours’
night-labor, we succeeded in stopping every leak but one. In one place
the water rushed through in a torrent.

This morning--Sept. 24th--the water was rising in its might.
Notwithstanding our aqueduct and canal, the bed of the river was nearly
full. We hastened to remove all our mining implements. Slowly, but
surely, the freshet came, till the destruction of all our works seemed
inevitable.

We thought not of hunger, though we had been laboring hard much of the
night and all the morning. About ten o’clock there was a pause of
fearful suspense. The rising seemed arrested--might it not be on the
turn? For a short time there was hope; the pendulum vibrated each moment
between our hopes and our fears. We hastened up the hill side--after all
had been done which could be--to a spot commanding a view of the whole,
to see our hopes or our fears realized. We perceived at once that the
existence of all our works depended upon the Paine’s Bar dam above us.
Would that stand the torrent? Should that maintain its position, we were
safe; let that go, _all_ would be swept away! As we kept our eyes fixed
upon this--it was a quarter of a mile above us--the black line of wall
was suddenly broken, and the torrent poured through a small opening
forced in the dam, and in a few seconds the river ran foaming over the
entire length of the wall, which bowed and sank before the irresistible
force. Then and there was heard a sound new and strangely startling to
me. It was caused by large stones _rushing_ and _grinding_ under water,
borne on by the tremendous power of the current. It might be imagined
that the thousand submerged chariots and cars of Pharaoh’s host were
driving impetuously over that river channel. As soon as the dam above us
gave way, the water rose with great rapidity--two, three, four, six,
eight feet--till it poured over the top of the aqueduct. Still it nobly
stood, held in its place by the immense weight of the water which poured
through it from the canal above. It was indeed surprising to see a thing
so light resisting that mad and mighty force. It was but a moment!
Gently and gracefully it yielded, swayed forward, and moved away with
the ease and rapidity of a thing of life. Thus, in one moment, we saw
the work of _one thousand and twenty-nine days_ done by the company
swept away and rendered useless. Within five minutes of the time when
the aqueduct disappeared around the bend of the river, a meeting of the
company was called, and a resolution presented to proceed with our work
by means of wing-dams.

Oct. 8th. From the time of the freshet to the 30th of Sept., the river
was too high to permit us to commence our new operations. On that
day--Monday--the directors led the way, shuddering, and actually
shrieking, from the sudden chill, into the cold stream. A line was
formed, extending out to the middle of the river, those at the end of
the line working in four feet water, where the current was so strong
that our feet would often be forced from under us, and we would be
whirled away down the current, to scrabble on shore as we could. To
appreciate the difficulties of our arduous and dangerous task, and to
understand the kind of work which was to be done, let my reader imagine
himself standing by me, and looking at what is going on below us, while
I describe the scene to him. The whole force of the company, aided by
some thirty Mexicans we have employed to work for us, is concentrated
upon the wall which is to be the head of the dam. This is to run from
the shore out to the middle of the river, or about forty feet. Two walls
are thrown up parallel to each other, and about two feet apart. The
difficulty of this is almost inconceivable. We must roll the stones and
adjust them where there is a rapid current four feet in depth. Sometimes
a whole section of this will be swept off at once, and must be done all
over again. After the walls are completed, strong cloth is spread down
against the lower wall, and over its whole surface. The space is then
filled up with small twigs, sand, and clay. After the wall is carried
thus to the middle of the river, it must turn, forming a right angle,
and run down through the middle of the river, parallel to the shore, a
distance of two hundred and fifty feet, till it passes over some falls,
by which means the water is partially drained from a portion of the
channel. This portion so drained is then divided off into pens, which
are surrounded by small walls, so made as to exclude the water, which is
then bailed out, and all the space within the walls of the pens is thus
worked. The cradles are set just over the walls, on the outer side, and
some six or eight of them are sometimes being rocked at the same time,
supplied with dirt by the dozen or twenty miners in the pens. It is a
busy scene. It will be seen that this work is not only laborious, but
in an extreme degree exposing. At times nearly all the company may be
seen working together, waist deep, in the water, which, coming from the
Sierra Nevada, is very cold. This we must endure, while a burning sun is
shining hotly down upon the head.

There are two servants, belonging to members of the company, at work
with the rest, and right hard-working men they are. One of them, who is
from Mississippi, is as athletic and vigorous a man as I have ever seen.
If any work is to be done which requires great strength, he is called
upon; and he always engages in it singing some merry song. The other
servant is an old man, named Allen, belonging to our president, who
tells me he shall give him free papers when he leaves the country.

Direct your attention once again to the interesting tableau in the river
below us. Among the group of Mexicans and Americans--black, brown, and
white--is one remarkable person. He is a tall, stout man, having the
appearance of one accustomed to command, and some of the severity of one
who has commanded those who never dared dispute his authority. He had
been a boatman upon the Mississippi. He was our chief director; and,
though he ruled with unquestioned sway, he was light-hearted, jovial,
and free. He was known among us by the name of “Red,” from the fact
that, whenever there was any fighting to be done, or when he was “going
upon a spree,” he put on a red flannel shirt. By our “Articles of
Agreement,” in the absence of the president, the duty of presiding over
the meetings devolved upon him, as chief director. At a meeting which
was called at the regular time of work, the president being absent, the
chair was to be taken--speaking figuratively, for such a thing as a
chair was unknown at the mines--by this remarkable individual. The
thought that he was so far to submit his own opinion to the decision of
others as to permit them an opportunity of expressing dissent even by
their votes, did not seem to enter into his calculations. The meeting
had been called to decide whether or not we should work on that Saturday
afternoon. Under the circumstances, most were in favor of adjourning
work till Monday morning. What was the dismay of those who had
anticipated no difficulty in carrying the question in the affirmative,
and who came prepared to talk down or to talk _out_ all opposition, if
they had to talk till night, when Red entered with the air of one who is
for deeds, and not words. He was strongly opposed to the proposed
measure. “Boys,” he said, as he came by, spade in hand, as if on his way
to labor, impatient of any delay, and waving all ceremony--“Boys, I say,
go to work. All who are in favor say ‘Ay!’” One emphatic “_Ay!_” by
himself, was the only response. “Those who are opposed,” he continued,
at the same time starting on his way, “say nothing, and go to work!” In
five minutes every man was at his post, wondering how it had happened. I
was desirous, for one, to have the afternoon to myself, as I had
promised to preach on the morrow, and wanted the time to arrange my
thoughts. As it was, I selected my subject, studied and arranged my
plan, while at work in the canal. Early the next day--Sunday--I stepped
to the entrance of my brush arbor, and to a post driven into the ground,
upon the top of which was nailed a chip, hewed flat for the purpose,
which served for a reading-desk. My audience were already seated about,
some upon rude stools, and most upon the ground.

This afternoon, our wall being completed, and two pens, twelve feet
square, inclosed, we set our cradles, and commenced “rocking.” The books
of the treasurer exhibit the following results to Nov. 9th, when river
mining was generally suspended for the season:

Oct. 8th                             $50 00
 “   9th                              26 00
 “   10th. Work upon the wing-dam.
 “   11th                            155 25
 “   12th                          1,280 00
 “   13th, Sunday                    302 00
 “   14th. Work upon the wing-dam.
 “   15th.   “    “    “    “    “
 “   16th.   “    “    “    “    “
 “   17th                          1,404 00
 “   18th                          4,198 00
 “   19th                            894 00
 “   20th, Sunday.
 “   21st                          1,449 00
 “   22d                             688 00
 “   23d                           1,102 00
 “   24th                          1,034 00
 “   25th                            701 00
 “   26th                             27 50
 “   27th, Sunday.

 “   28th                           179 00
 “   29th. Work upon the wing-dam.
 “   30th                                           6 00
 “   31st. Work upon the wing-dam.
Nov. 1st                                          297 25
 “   2d                                           437 25
 “   3d, Sunday.
 “   4th                                          949 10
 “   5th                                          809 60
 “   6th                                          168 00
 “   7th                                          547 00
 “   8th                                          380 00
 “   9th                                           40 00
                                              ----------
         Total                                $17,123 95
  Deduct company expenses, viz.,    }
implements, labor, and incidentals, }           3,528 05
                                             -----------
  Leaving in the treasury                     $13,595 90

Dividend to each of twenty-one members of the company, $647 42. Average
per day, from July 30th to Nov. 9th, 1850, $7 28.

       *       *       *       *       *

A large amount of gold came into the treasury, the care of which was
somewhat burdensome. It puzzled me to know what to do with it. There was
no lock and key in the place. My arbor was upon the hill, retired from
the rest of the settlement. There were many Mexicans and strangers
constantly upon the bar, and it was dangerous to have a large amount of
gold in possession. As a means of security for myself, I changed my
quarters every night; and to secure the gold, I tied the various
packages into one bundle, to which I attached one end of a string,
tying the other end about my wrist. The bundle, so secured, I folded
within my coat, placing the whole beneath my head as a pillow. Any
attempt to take this from me would have been instantly detected.

It will be seen, by reference to the dates, that the company labored at
mining on one Sabbath. When it was decided, at a meeting on Saturday,
the 12th of October, to work the next day, I was allowed to enter my
protest, which still remains upon the records; and I was also excused
from manual labor. By noon of that Sunday, all had left work, and it was
never even proposed again.

During the last weeks of our labors, we hired many Americans, and more
than fifty Mexicans. The heavy tax upon foreigners has driven them to
seek employment from companies. They may be hired at $4 and $6 a day.
These Mexicans, who speak imperfect Spanish, are generally very
indolent, and must be closely watched. Many times in the day, whatever
may be the business, they will stop, take out a small, square piece of
white paper, and putting upon it a small pinch of loose tobacco, roll it
into a cigarito, and lighting it with a piece of punk or a match, smoke
with apparent relish. The women are as fond of their cigaritos as the
men.

A few nights before I left the mines, I accepted an invitation from
“Red” to accompany him on a night fishing expedition. He carried in his
hand a long and peculiarly pointed spear, with a spring barb, which
opened as it entered the flesh of the fish, and prevented his escape.
Several others bore torches made of light wood, which, while they
dazzled the fish, showed the spear-man where to strike. After two hours’
fishing on the banks of the river, we returned, rewarded for our toil
with several large salmon.

A remarkable instance of an attack made by a bear upon the inmates of a
tent occurred lately near us. He was no doubt attracted by the smell of
the fresh meat which was being cooked. Infuriated by the resistance
which he met, he made a most violent attack upon his assailants, killing
two men and one woman, who was cooking. One of the men and the bear lay
dead side by side.

A bird of very large size has frequently flown over us, soaring very
high in the air, which we have supposed was the California eagle; but
one, coming within the range of the rifle, was shot, and fell at our
feet upon the bar. It proves to be a species of the vulture, and
measures, between the tips of its wings, eight feet and eleven inches.
The quill which I now have is of great size.

There was upon the bar a case of delirium tremens, that most fearful
display of the Divine displeasure against intemperance. The young man
was from England--had been an officer in the British army. Soon after he
came to the mines, he gave himself up to intemperate habits. He was
suddenly attacked in the night, imagining himself pursued by horrible
fiends, which came to torture him. At midnight he came rushing into my
tent, and almost knocked me out of my hammock as he crept under it, to
conceal himself from his enemies. He would then dart through the side
of my arbor, densely interwoven with brush and boughs, and into a tent
near by, where he narrowly escaped being shot as a robber. In the day he
would sit near the bank of the river, and converse by the hour with
imaginary persons on the hill opposite. He carried on a curious
courtship with a woman who was dancing over the river, surrounded by her
fifty children. He requested me to marry him to this woman of his
imagination; and then, soon after, came in trembling, and told me that
the husband was alive, and in his jealous rage was seeking to kill him.

There was much sickness upon the bar during the latter part of the
season. Much of this was the result of the fearful exposures to which we
were subject. The sickness at length assumed a malignant and dangerous
form. It commenced in a violent attack of diarrhœa, running into
symptoms resembling the cholera, which was then fatally prevalent in the
cities of California. The first person attacked was a vigorous and
strong German sailor. Nothing could be learned of him or his
friends--even his name was unknown to us. We buried him deep in the
sand, on the banks of the Tuolumne; and while the burial services were
being performed, a crowd--not, however, of our own members--surrounded
the gambling-table on the bar. At this time there were three or four
gambling companies with us, called into life by the short-lived success
of our mining operations.

Poor Charlie! would it lessen the loneliness of your last resting-place
to know that you “sleep your last sleep” by the side of the gifted and
noble-hearted friend who watched over you night and day in your
sickness, and who thus contracted his own death malady? Alas! how sad
and overpowering are my thoughts, as I stand, for the last time before
leaving for my own far-distant home, by the grave of Franklin H. Ridout,
of Annapolis, Maryland! Soon after the death of Charlie, he was
prostrated by a most violent attack of the same disease. During his
short sickness, every possible attention and assistance was rendered him
by a few devoted friends; but how often he must have felt the want of
the attentions of his own happy home--the home of piety and refinement!
After he had received from his physician the intelligence that there was
no hope in his case--intelligence to which he listened with Christian
resignation--he sent for me. It was the 21st of October, and so warm and
genial was the weather that the dying man was outside his tent, lying
beneath its shade. That conversation, and others which followed, I shall
never forget. I was the learner, and he the teacher. His quiet Christian
resignment to the will of the Supreme Being, while it was very
affecting, was also consoling to our feelings. But one thing he seemed
to wish different. “If I might die at home,” he said, “it would be so
sweet!” The last sentence he spoke contained the dear and sacred name
“mother!” His last thought was of her. A short time before his death,
the sacrament of the holy communion was administered to him, at which a
large number of persons were present. A meeting of the company was
called in the evening, and the following resolutions were passed:

     Whereas it has pleased Almighty God to take from among us a beloved
     friend and companion, therefore,

     _Resolved_, 1st. That by the death of Franklin H. Ridout we have
     lost one whom we all esteemed most highly for his many virtues.

     _Resolved_, 2d. That we sincerely sympathize with his afflicted
     mother and relatives in this sad bereavement.

     _Resolved_, 3d. That we will attend his funeral to-morrow, at
     twelve o’clock, M.

     _Resolved_, 4th. That this company will defray the expenses of his
     funeral.

     Resolved, 5th. That a copy of these resolutions be sent to the
     family of the deceased; and that an invitation to attend the
     funeral be extended to the neighboring companies.

                                            DANIEL B. WOODS, Secretary.

_Hart’s Bar_, Oct. 21, 1849.



Several were dangerously ill at the time of Mr. Ridout’s death, and,
soon after, our worthy president was at once prostrated by a similar
attack. For many hours we watched over him, endeavoring to cheer and
comfort him. At the last, he came to the conclusion that he must die.
Sending for me, he made me promise to visit his family on Red River, and
be the bearer to them of the sad intelligence; also of many messages,
which he delivered with the fortitude of a Christian philosopher; but
once, when speaking of his wife, his voice was choked, and the strong
man turned aside his head to weep. To my earnest entreaty that he would
postpone the subject till he was better--indeed, my own feelings were
so much overcome, that I feared I should lose control of myself in his
presence--he replied that he must finish, and then his mind would be at
rest. He feared not to die, but he would have desired to be at home, if
it had been the will of God; but he could not complain. He gave me, for
his family, his journal, a few articles of value, and his bag of gold.
His tent, clothing, tools, &c., he gave to his servant, old Allen, to
whom he had promised his freedom when he should leave the country, and
to whom he requested me to give free papers in the event of his death.
He told me, in conclusion, where he wished to be buried, and the mode of
his burial. Hearing that my valued friend, Dr. Candee, of Park Place,
New York, was in the neighborhood, I sent to him, urgently requesting
him to visit Dr. Hotchkiss. To my great relief, he was soon at his side,
and his prescriptions were blessed to his recovery.

These cases of sickness very much hastened the breaking up of our mining
operations for the season. Many of the company left for the mountains,
to be ready for the winter diggings.

Nov. 9th. This is my last day at the mines. We removed our cradles this
morning to the portion of the channel from which we had taken out the
largest amount of gold, hoping that we might find the vein again. There
were favorable indications close under the centre wall; but the vein
dipped below the wall, and we worked on, at every step undermining it,
and still led on by the hope of reaching one of those rare deposits in
which thousands are found. We were more encouraged in this idea by
learning, on good evidence, that from one small spot near us, in the
same channel, one miner, the last year, took $17,000. Why might not we
strike it also? Every appearance encouraged us, when we were aroused by
a sudden and loud call from one of the directors, who had discovered two
leaks in the dam, a few feet apart. In an instant we all rushed, with
our spades and barrows of dirt, to the breaches, which each moment gaped
wider, and presented a more hopeless appearance. All our efforts would
have been vain, and the dam swept away, but for the aid of another
company near us. There was no more work, however, to be done that day,
every thing being under the water. That was the last of my gold-digging.

Nov. 10th. For the last time, I have just climbed the mountain above
Hart’s Bar. On looking back, below me is spread out the narrow, winding
valley, between its two mountains, widening at that point into an
extensive bar, through which, on account of the many dams, canals, and
other obstructions, the tortured river seems to have infinite difficulty
in forcing its way. There is also the collection of tents, and the
miners engaged in cooking, and collected in small groups about their
camp-fires, for it is a cool morning. There stand the wrecks of our
aqueduct and canal; the bare half channel of the river, and the surface
of the bar scarred and pitted over. There is the scene of my labors for
long months. There is my own arbor, and its last fire still smoking; and
there our place of worship; and lower down is where our company meetings
were held. And there are the graves of our lost companions. But I must
break from these scenes of disappointment and sadness--of broken hopes
and broken hearts--and, invoking the blessing of a kind and gracious
Father in heaven upon myself and those left behind, direct my steps to
San Francisco.

On the road, where before there were only tents or rude arbors, are now
some frame buildings. And it was cause of surprise to see the great
number of wagons and mule-trains, heavily laden for the mines. Where
were to be found consumers for all this? Then came the news-man, with
almost a mule-load of New York Heralds. I had come alone, and entirely
unarmed, and it was a source of amusement to me to meet the emigrants on
their way to the mines, completely armed. A mile out from Stockton, I
met a Frenchman, armed with a double hunting-gun, pistols, dirk, &c.,
who came up to me, looking carefully on this side and on that, and
inquired anxiously, “Is there any danger about the bear?” He seemed
surprised when I told him I had come down from the mines alone and
unarmed; that on my way across the plain I had seen a few elk and deer,
and immense herds of antelope.

At Stockton I received letters from home of three months’ later date;
and the same evening left, in one of the river steamers, for San
Francisco, where I arrived early the next morning.




CHAPTER VI.

SAN FRANCISCO.

GENERAL ESTIMATE OF GAINS--RETURN TO PHILADELPHIA.


San Francisco, which has already been several times burned down, and as
often, Phœnix-like, arisen from its ashes, seems to be improved by each
conflagration. A new edition, revised and improved, has just been
issued. I should not have known the city. Indeed, there was little
there--excepting the land, and that cut down and changed--which had been
there when I left. The city of tents and sheds was changed to one of
substantial edifices, while some blocks of very respectable brick houses
had been built. One could not pass through the city without being
impressed with the sentiment which seems to describe the whole thing,
“_Enterprise run mad._”[B] Each one of the vast throng hastens on, busy
in his own plans and pursuits. Nothing can so well give the idea, by a
single image, of San Francisco, as naming it a moral whirlpool. A
mysterious, but all-pervading and powerful attraction, emanating from
this wonderful point, has been felt in the remotest parts of the earth.
Civilized, semi-barbarous, and savage--American, European, Asiatic, and
African--feel it. The missionary and the gambler, the praying and the
profane man, have all felt it. Drawn from the pulpit, the farm, the
forum, the bench, they all rush--giddy, mazed--into this one vortex.
Happy the few who escape unharmed!

To give such a sketch of society in San Francisco as could be understood
and appreciated--

    “To force it sit, till he has pencil’d off
     A faithful image of the form he views”--

would indeed be a difficult task. Every thing is in such a state of
transition and change, from month to month, that a truthful description
now would not be such one short year hence. When I first visited the
city, the gamblers generally set their tables under large tents, which
answered the purpose, also, of eating-rooms. In my second visit, these
tents had given place to magnificent saloons. In these vast and splendid
establishments, the mind was bewildered, the senses were fascinated.
Appeals--almost irresistible to the young, often to the aged, and even
to those who had ministered at the altar--were made, calculated to
arouse the deepest and strongest passions of our nature. There was wine,
and the more intoxicating eye of beauty, to kindle and to madden. There
was music, by the most accomplished and able professors of the art, to
captivate. There were paintings, such as my pen may not describe; and
there were treasures of silver and gold, which _might_ be theirs on the
turn of a card.

In my third visit to the city, these saloons had been burned down, and
replaced with others more splendid and attractive. The wine, the music,
the tables of gold, coined and uncoined, are all there; but no longer do
such excited and eager crowds throng around the tables. There are still
some who are risking and losing their all; but, comparatively, they are
few.

While at San Francisco, an unusual case of success in mining has been
made public, and created much excitement even in this city of
wonders--so much so as to show that such instances are very rare. Three
miners had worked a claim, from which, in the course of a few weeks,
they took $84,000. Their expenses for labor, provisions, &c., were about
$24,000; But they had with them each about $20,000. I was informed that
several hundred miners had been attracted to the same bar by the success
of these men, but that no other rich deposits had been found, and, in
general, the others were not making a living. Notwithstanding the
overgrown fortunes which have been, in some few cases, so rapidly
accumulated, I hazard the assertion that in no other part of the United
States can there be found so many persons abjectly poor, in proportion
to the population, as among those who have resorted to California for
purposes of mining. Much is now said, and considerable excitement felt,
on the subject of the quartz mining. When two exceptions are made, I
know of no locations where the quartz-crushing operations can be at
present successfully prosecuted. Two reasons may be given for this
opinion. One is, the high price of labor; the second is, the difficulty
of replacing parts of the machinery in case of a break. Many
individuals and many companies will be losers by entering into the
quartz mining speculations.

The mode of conducting business in the cities is anomalous. No skill in
business transactions; no far-sighted, clear judgment; no long
experience in matters of commerce, insure success here. It is much as it
is at the mines. A happy hit, if made by the novice--and it is as likely
to be made by him as by any--makes the poor man to-day a rich man
to-morrow. In the spring of 1849, the single article of saleratus sold
for $12 a lb.; it could be purchased in New York at 4 cents. One hundred
dollars invested in this single article, deducting all expenses, would
yield at the least $25,000. At that same time, building lots in
Sacramento City were held at $500; in six weeks they brought $25,000.
Let any one calculate for himself what would be the amount made from
fifty lots at this rate. In the space of six months, the owner of $100
_might_ be worth a million!

Such glittering and gilded castles as these, floating through the
imaginations of thousands, led to those wild speculations in lumber,
provisions, and other things, which, in the end, have come tumbling down
upon the heads of the builders.

While at San Francisco I had opportunity of obtaining information
respecting the companies which had been formed in the States. Not one of
these, so far as I could learn, continued together; they were often
dissolved before they reached the mines. And even if they held a
charter, and were bound to each other under heavy liabilities, they soon
fell to pieces on reaching the gold placers. One intelligent gentleman,
who had enjoyed every opportunity for observation, related to me the
history of the company with which he left New York. They numbered one
hundred and forty-one members. One of this company made $15,000 by
trading; another made $7000 in the same way. Two had made $6000; one as
a tin manufacturer, the other by mining. Three had made $2000; two by
mining and trading, and one by teaming. One had made $1500, and another
$1000. Half the remainder made a living by mining, gambling, or trading,
and the remainder have died.

Before I left the mines, I applied to the secretaries or other officers
of mining companies upon the Tuolumne for statements respecting their
operations during the past season. These were companies extending along
the river a few miles both above and below Hart’s Bar. Their operations
were generally more successful than those of other damming companies,
excepting, perhaps, some upon the Yuba River. I speak within bounds when
I say that four out of five of the river damming operations, through the
whole mines, were failures. The averages of the fourteen companies given
below were generally obtained from their books. In some instances, their
mining operations were continued after I left, but only in a limited
degree, and, in general, were entirely suspended, and the members were
scattering among the various winter diggings, or, in a few cases,
seeking their distant homes.


No. 1.

_Sigñorita Bar Company._

Worked by Green T. Martin, of Rodney, Miss., and R. N. Wood, of
Shreveport, La.

Total number of days, 1354.

Highest number of hands one day, 96.

Commenced on the 3d of September, and left on the 25th of October.

Total amount taken from bar, $9700.

Highest amount in one day, 7 lbs. 4 oz.

Length of dam, 290 feet.

Loss by rise of river in repairs, $1400.

$1000 taken out since we left. Our force was too large to be longer
profitably employed. The upper part of the bar was poor, and on the west
side the bed was black slate, with a deposit of three or four feet, and
on the slate was found pieces of pine and other timber; and the whole
had the appearance of ashes or ash-bed, the water upon it resembling
soap-suds. All the specimens found contained greater or less quantities
of quartz.

                              R. N. WOOD.


No. 2.

_Stephens’s Bar Damming and Mining Company._

Gross amount of gold taken out this year from Stephens’s Bar Damming and
Mining Company, $12,000.

October 26th, took out $1224.

Length of canal, 1200 yards.

Number of men in the company, 38.

Number of days’ work put on by each member, 120.

Name of treasurer, Wm. Canfield, New York.

Name of secretary, John F. Sullivan, Baltimore.


No. 3.

_Items of the Third Bar Company, Tuolumne River._

Organized 25th July, 1850.

Number of members, private, 6.

J. W. Morrel, president.

C. Powell, secretary and treasurer.

Number of members, aggregate, 8.

Number of Mexicans employed, average, 60.

Number of days’ labor, 4260.

Length of canal, 730 yards.

Length of dam, 88 yards.

Cost of labor for day, $5 each Mexican.

Cost of labor, and other expenses, to complete the job, $239 48.

Amount of gold and other valuables obtained from the above labor, 00.


No. 4.

_Philadelphia Company._

5 members; 210 days; amount of gold, 00.


No. 5.

_Extension Company._

12 members; 1100 days.

Amount, $2250.

Average for day, $2 04.


No. 6.

_Hawkins’s Bar Company._

N. Kingsley, president; John Richardson, secretary; Geo. Goodhart,
treasurer.

108 members.

Time of labor, 7776 days.

Amount of gold, $35,500.

Average for day, $4 56.


No. 7.

_Ficket Company._

Robert Armstrong, treasurer.

14 members; 434 days.

Amount made, $4368.

Average for day, $10 06.


No. 8.

_Payne’s Bar Company._

20 members; 1820 days; amount, $6792.

Average for day, $3 73.


No. 9.

_Grisly Company._

Geo. Buttress, president; D. F. Smyers, secretary and treasurer.

10 members; largest day’s work, $2600.

Time of labor, 540 days.

Amount, $11,000.

Average for day, $20 37.


No. 10.

_Wild Yankee Company._

15 members; time, 450 days; amount, $4000.

Average for day, $8 88.


No. 11.

_Jacksonville Company._

Thos. Sayre, president; G. N. Harris, secretary; Geo. Somers, treasurer.

50 members; time of labor, 10,000 days.

Amount taken out, $10,900.

Average for day, $1 09.


No. 12.

_Extension Company._

20 members; time, 720 days; avails, 00.


No. 13.

_York Bar Company._

20 members; 714 days; avails, 00.


No. 14.

_Hart’s Bar Company._

Thos. S. Hotchkiss, president; Daniel B. Woods, secretary and treasurer.

Number of members, 21.

Largest day’s work, $4198.

Number of days’ labor, 1938.

Total amount, $17,123.

Average per day, $8 83.

       *       *       *       *       *

Number of members in these fourteen companies, 344.

Total number of days’ labor, 35,876, or 114 years of 313 working days
each.

Total amount taken out, $113,633.

Average for each day’s labor, $3 16.

       *       *       *       *       *

My efforts to obtain averages of the winter mines were attended with
much greater difficulty. But few of the miners kept any account of the
results of their labors, and those who did were often unwilling that
their names should appear in connection with such inconsiderable
profits. In my journal I have the names of _fifty-six_ miners, generally
of my acquaintance, who were laboring in the richest portions of the
mines, and who have given me information respecting their operations.
All whose names and averages I took were industrious, persevering, and,
in some cases, skillful miners, so that the result given must be
regarded as one which presents the most favorable view. It is probable,
if an average could by any means be obtained of all the operations of
all the miners, day by day, it would be much less than that at which I
arrive.

My estimate commences at the time I reached the Marepoosa diggings,
which was the 12th day of November, 1849, and a few days after the rainy
season commenced, and ends at the time I went to Jacksonville, April 3d,
1850, and covers a period of one hundred and twenty-one working days to
each of fifty-six miners, or six thousand seven hundred and seventy-six
days in the aggregate.

     Number of miners, 56.

     Length of time, 121 working days.

     Total number of days’ work, 6776.

     Whole amount made, $22,089 76.

     The aggregate amount each day, averaged, $182 56.

     Average to each of 56 miners, each day, $3 26.

It would exhibit curious results were I prepared to present a statement
of the mining operations of one hundred and twenty-nine miners with whom
I have been connected since I came to California. Most of these left
the mines before I did, some of them to return home, and many to engage
in other pursuits. Some remained only a few days. One of these, though I
was not connected with him otherwise than as being with him on a
prospecting tour for a day, was a novelty among us. He seemed to have
just turned out of Broadway, or to have been turned out of a band-box.
He was an exquisite, even to the white kid gloves, eye-glass, and
Cologne water, with dancing pumps, and a small gold box suspended about
his neck by a gold chain, in which to put his gold. With his dirk-knife,
elegantly chased, he would go into a hole already dug, and spend an hour
in scraping the dirt from the rocks, which he washed with great care,
putting the few scales in the gold box around his neck. He had been
transplanted from some greenhouse to these rough mountains, and soon
faded away and died.

Nov. 26th, 1850. We set sail in the French ship Chateaubriand, “homeward
bound.” On January 8th, 1851, reached Panama. After spending twenty days
upon the Isthmus, on January 28th weighed anchor; had a rapid run, the
Georgia putting into Havana for coal, and to part with a portion of her
six hundred and fifty passengers; and on Saturday, February 8th, arrived
at New York, and the same night at Philadelphia, after an absence of two
years and eight days.

And now, as I take leave of my reader, he will find me seated again at
my old writing-desk--the Christmas present of my dear pupils, some of
whom have already called in to see me. How familiar it looks! And how
light and cheerful every thing is, as if I had been shut up in a dark,
close room _so long_! And how familiar and dear are all the scenes and
faces of home, only grown older and larger! I imagine myself, only one
moment, back at the top of the hill from which I last saw my companions.
I think they were then looking miserable in the distance, and I think
they still look and feel so now. If they could hear me, I would wish
them soon that happiness which can make them forget that they have not
come home with their weight in gold, though they may find that which is
more than worth it, for there _are_ treasures more valuable than gold.




CHAPTER VII.

HINTS TO MINERS.


The experience of sixteen months in the mines enables me to make a few
suggestions which may be of importance to those intending to become
miners.

And with regard to the preparations which should be made, a great error
has been committed by most California emigrants, in making too much
preparation. A change of substantial clothing, with several pairs of
well-made water-proof boots, form a good outfit in that line. It is
important, where so much work is to be done in the water, to wear
flannel, even in the summer. It is attended with great inconvenience and
much expense to transport a large chest or trunk from place to place. I
have known many, on arriving at San Francisco, who sell off, at a great
loss, the greatest part of all their stores, reducing them to one change
of clothing. There is great risk, also, of losing one’s effects by fire
or by water, or by the breaking up of the establishment in which they
are stored. The Amity and Enterprise Association, formed before we left
Philadelphia, can speak knowingly upon this subject. Each individual of
this association had an outfit which would have lasted three or four
years. In addition, they had company property, in provisions, tents,
mining utensils, &c., to a considerable amount. Most of this was sent
around the Horn by several shipments. The rest we took with us to
Tampico. When we reached this place, finding that the transportation
across Mexico would be about $50 a hundred, we packed most of our
individual property in a large box, and shipped it back to the States to
be forwarded to California. This is the last we ever saw of its
contents. Our provisions we sold at Tampico, which did not pay the
custom-house duties upon them. Of those which were sent around the Horn,
the provisions did not pay the freight and commissions on the sale; and
most of our clothing, &c., were stored in San Francisco, and burned in
the second great fire in that city. I do not know of a company which did
not meet with losses in proportion to the extent of their outfits. The
losses of those who crossed the plains in this respect were very great.
Large quantities of valuable mining implements, hundreds of hams, bags
of flour, and other provisions--even wagons, in large numbers--were left
upon the road. It is often the case that persons suffer very seriously
from their ignorance of the difficulties and expenses to which they will
be liable after reaching California. Many find themselves in San
Francisco with cramped means, and sometimes none at all, and with a long
and expensive journey to the mines before them, besides many necessary
articles which should be procured. Every miner should have $150 by him
on his arrival in the country. More would not be amiss.

I believe all who are at the mine would agree with me in recommending to
the new miner to leave all machinery behind him. If he takes any thing
in that line, let it be the best _mining pick_ and _spade_ he can find,
with a stout sheath-knife, and a horn for crevassing. The “cradle” is
found any where in the settlements or in the mines. If it is intended to
engage in the quartz-crushing operations, the most simple machinery is
the best. The very complicated and expensive machinery which has, in
several instances, been taken to the mines, has been useless. The least
breakage will delay the whole work for months, till it is replaced from
the States.

By all means avoid companies which are got up at home for mining.
Whatever facilities they offer; whatever array of influential names they
present; whatever they purpose or promise to accomplish--if they come to
you with a charter, or a ship, of which you are to share the
advantages--_avoid companies formed at home_! They work badly; they
cramp your energies; they entangle all your operations. In the mines, it
will always be necessary for you to associate yourself with one or two,
and sometimes with twenty, or even fifty mining companions. These
associations are formed and terminate with the necessity of the
occasion.

Much time is lost in the mines by those who are led, by exaggerated
stories of success, from a place where they are working with some
advantage, to seek a better location. Leave the work of prospecting,
principally, to the more experienced miners. There is an excitement
connected with the pursuit of gold which renders one restless and
uneasy--ever hoping to do something better. The very uncertainty of the
employment increases this tendency. A person may be making his quarter
ounce a day, and hears that a person a few miles from him is making an
ounce. He is accordingly dissatisfied, and removes to the new diggings,
there, probably, to be again disappointed. These exaggerated stories are
most generally got up by traders in the place, in order to bring
customers to their stores. I have noticed that those who remain most
constantly in one place are in the end most successful.

When you have marked off your claim upon a bar--a place which has been
proved--_dig down to the rock_! Many have been losers by relinquishing
their work before it is finished. The gold is generally scattered upon
the primitive rock. All the rich deposits are here. You may dig over the
quarter part of your claim and find little gold, while a parcel
containing pounds may lie concealed in the last corner. A friend from
Philadelphia, who marked off a claim at the Chinese diggings, dug it
partly out, came to water, which disheartened him, and gave it up. Three
miners went into it at once, and in a few hours had taken out $375. The
necessity of perseverance in such an employment must be apparent to all.
You can not hope to accomplish any thing without it. Your motto must be,
“_Hope on, hope ever!_” The treasure you seek may lie at the bottom of
your next claim--it may be beneath the next stone.

_Be careful of your health!_ This once gone, your hopes are at an end.
An unfortunate miner at the Marepoosa diggings, who had brought upon
himself an attack of scurvy by the neglect of his health, said to me,
during a visit made to him, “I would give all the gold of California, if
I had it, for the health I had two weeks ago!” Fortunately, the
supplies of provisions at the mines are better and more abundant than
they were; and there will be yet greater improvement in this respect.
Vegetables, of which we had none at first, are now regularly furnished.
The great care should be, to guard against the influence of working in
the water. To this you are necessarily exposed; and, from my observation
on this point, the danger arising from this exposure may, in general, be
safely met by the care the miner takes of himself in his hours of rest.
It is not his being wet during the time of labor which is most likely to
prove injurious, but his remaining so during the reaction which takes
place in the system at the close of labor. As you value your health,
then, do not enter upon your hour of rest at noon, and especially do not
leave work at night, without throwing aside your wet garments and
putting on dry ones. You will soon be aware of a great change which
takes place in the temperature of the air, among the mountains, during
every night of the year. You may lie down, wet and tired, at night, and
perhaps not need a blanket, while before morning you will feel the need
of two or three. It is not generally the most robust or vigorous who
best stand the labor, the privations, or the exposure they are sure to
meet. These seem the most liable to the many diseases of the country;
and perhaps it is for the very reason that, trusting to their strength
and vigor of constitution, they do not take the necessary care of their
health.

There are many other points to which I might profitably call your
attention, but respecting which experience will be your best teacher.

A few thoughts as to the various kinds of gold and gold-digging. (See
the Appendix.) The gold deposits are found in the quartz and slate
formations, in decomposed granite, in sand and gravel beds, and in clay.
The largest specimens are found between the layers of slate over which
the stream flows vertically. The rocks and soil are frequently volcanic,
like those of Pompeii. Lumps of gold are often found alone, and are no
indication of the existence of a rich deposit. But the scale and dust
gold is not found in this detached state; it exists generally in veins,
though sometimes much scattered through the soil by the action of the
water.

The river diggings are sometimes upon the bars over which the stream has
formerly run. These bars are covered with stones, which, with a portion
of the soil below, must be removed, to the distance of several feet.
When, by experiment, it is found to yield gold, the cradle is placed by
the river side, and the dirt is washed through it, while the gold
settles at the bottom of the machine. At the close of the work, this is
washed down in pans, and then is dried in the sun or by the fire, and is
still farther cleaned by blowing, by the magnet, or by quicksilver. The
river diggings found in the channels require much more labor in the
preparation, and must be worked by companies, sometimes of one hundred
persons. A canal and dam must be made, to turn the water from the
channel of the river. After that, the process is the same as the bar
working. These constitute, generally, the summer diggings, as the rivers
are low, and in a better state for being worked. The winter diggings
are found among the ravines and gulches, and upon the plains where the
streams have formerly run. These are dry in summer, and can only be
worked after the rainy season commences. But the Mexicans and Chilinos
have a method of “dry washing,” or winnowing the gold-dirt, much as
grains are winnowed, the dirt being blown away, and the gold falling
into the blanket or skin. The dry diggings are sometimes worked during
the dry season, and the dirt thrown up in heaps, to be washed out when
there is water. If worked in the rainy season, the water must be turned
by small dams and canals, leaving the channel and its banks dry. This
kind of labor is very difficult, but often pays well. The other kind of
dry digging is the most laborious of all. It is sometimes the case that
very rich deposits are found upon the small plains lying between the
mountains. The river which formerly ran here has been displaced by the
soil, which accumulates to a great depth. The soil must be removed,
sometimes to the depth of twenty, thirty, or even forty feet, before the
gold is found. When found, it sometimes proves very rich, but more
frequently very poor. I have seen a company of nine persons labor for
two weeks, keeping down the water with pumps, and, after all their toil,
not find a grain of gold to reward their efforts. It is truly one of the
most discouraging circumstances in a miner’s life, that, although he may
one day make his pounds, the next he may make little or nothing. It is
equally disheartening to him to be working all day for the merest
trifle, while by his side, and within a few feet of him, another is
taking out his pounds. But let him persevere, and success may be his
reward.

The actual time favorable for mining during the year is very limited,
the greater proportion of which is spent in preparations. Some of the
river companies spent five, and one six months’ time, in making their
canal, dam, and other preparations for two months’ mining, in September,
October, and November. Much time is lost during the excessive heat of
the dry and the storms of the rainy season, and more in the profitless,
but arduous labor of _prospecting_. Then much time must be spent in
removing, in purchasing provisions, in building houses, &c. If all the
days of actual _mining_ were set down, they would not, I think, amount
to more than seventeen weeks in the year.

Much was anticipated, at the commencement of the last rainy season, from
the use of the submarine armor in working the channels of the rivers.
Much money was expended, and much time lost in making experiments, but
to little advantage. In every instance where they were tried on the
Tuolumne, they were soon abandoned as useless. The experiments tried
near me were made by an old Georgia gold miner, and one who had been
accustomed to the use of the submarine suit, which he had worn in
recovering some treasures from a ship sunk in the Mississippi. But he
never accomplished any thing with it at the mines. In addition to the
cradle, which has been always in use in the mines, the North Carolina
rocker and the Long Tom are used to advantage upon the placers where the
gold is very fine. These are both, however, made on the same general
principle as the simple cradle. The principal difference is, that they
are larger and longer.

Before closing this chapter of miscellanies, I will endeavor to guard
you against some moral evils--or I might better name them _immoral
influences_--to which you will be exposed.

Why it is so, it is not my purpose now to inquire; but such is the fact,
that in California there are circumstances which render vice very
attractive and alluring, and which, unless resolutely resisted, draw the
mind to become familiar with it, and in the end to embrace it. The man
esteemed virtuous at home becomes profligate, the honest man dishonest,
and the clergyman sometimes a profane gambler; while, on the contrary,
the cases are not few of those who were idle or profligate at home, who
come here to be reformed. It can not be known what influence such trials
and temptations will exert upon the character till they are tried. If
they are resisted, the character is strengthened; if they are not
resisted, the propensity to vice is proportionally increased. But not
only does vice seem more alluring here--it comes, from the very
circumstances in which the miner is placed, to be a substitute for
common amusement. He has not the society of the home circle to cheer and
enliven him. Disheartened, often reduced to the depths of melancholy, he
has no longer the friends--the innocent recreations to which he has been
accustomed. On the Sabbath morning, no church is open for the sad and
dispirited wanderer, self-exiled from his father’s house! No mother, or
sisters, or beloved wife can cheer him by their conversation and
smiles. Is it to be wondered at, then, that in his gloom he listens to
the voice of the Syren, and turns away to seek those broken cisterns
which can hold no water? Do you not perceive that he is exposed to
peculiar and great danger? But recollect, if the danger is great, so
much greater is the virtue of overcoming it. If the trial is severe, so
much stronger the energy and resolution which is requisite to vanquish
it. And if the temptation is resisted, the moral principles are
strengthened just in proportion to the degree of temptation. The young
man who returns home from California untainted, and of whom it may be
said,

    “Among the faithless, faithful he,”

may ever after be trusted. He has been tried as gold is tried, and the
trial has but served to exhibit the excellence of his character; and
well may his friends esteem and love him more, even if he returns to
them without an ounce of gold, than if he came home with his thousands
with a ruined character.

As I entered one of the magnificent gambling saloons of San Francisco,
and proceeded from one table to another, I saw, to my surprise, a young
man, who had come from one of the most religious families in his native
city, placing down his money upon the table. I stepped to his side. In a
moment the card was turned, and a small amount of silver was added to
that already in his hand. He looked anxiously at me, and said, “I would
not have my mother know what I am doing for all the money in this room.”
“Why then do it?” I asked; “have you thought to what the first step may
lead?” “But what can I do,” he said, earnestly; “I came not here to
gamble, but to find amusement; and can you tell me what other amusement
is within my reach?” I think that was the first, and am sure it was the
last time that my friend visited the saloons for the purpose of
gambling. But it affords an illustration of the subject--the danger, in
the absence of proper subjects of interest and amusement, of seeking
these in wrong and sinful ways. Many a person in California becomes a
professed gambler in consequence of taking the _first step_ from desire
of amusement. It can not be impressed upon your mind too deeply that the
gambling table is the place of the greatest danger. It is one of the
most ensnaring inventions of the great enemy of souls.

But how shall I speak of a kindred subject, so fraught with danger that
numbers of our most gifted citizens have yielded themselves to it. I
think _intemperance_ may be named as, next to gambling, the most
prevailing vice of California. They generally go hand in hand. In this
country, where the common restraints are removed which formerly imposed
a salutary check, this vice gains disgusting and dangerous prominence.
All that it is in its secluded orgies, all that it becomes in its
favorite haunts elsewhere, it is in California in open day. It blushes
not to show itself in its most fearful forms even in the public streets.
Many a poor miner, who becomes discouraged and sinks down into gloom,
flies to strong drink as he would to a friend from whom he expects to
receive relief. Occasionally, the Daguerreotype likenesses of dear
friends at home, or the sight of the neglected Bible--(for most miners
have both of these, almost their only treasures)--or the reception of a
letter, the miner’s only luxury, recalls him to his better self, puts
new hopes, new resolutions, and new life into him. But gradually he
yields the ground again; again he stands on slippery places, and soon he
staggers into his grave, for soon does vice of every kind perfect its
work here. _Licentiousness_, which is so destructive an evil in large
cities in Europe and America, is found also in California, and there
produces its bitter fruits. _Profanity_--a kind of its own; a bold,
independent, and startling profanity--is far too common in the mines, as
it is in the settlements. Several have told me that they have fallen
into this habit unconsciously, and, in some instances, have asked, as an
act of friendship, that I would aid them in correcting it. In one case,
a company of young men from New England mutually pledged themselves to
each other and to me to refrain from this habit. For the very reason
that it is so insinuating, and creeps so gradually upon one, should it
be more sedulously avoided. In my own case, I could perceive that the
constant listening to profane language produced a familiarity which
continually lessened the sense of repugnance it occasioned. This would
have been more and more the case, had I not adopted an expedient, which,
while it aimed at the good of others, had the effect to guard my own
mind against the moral contagion. The expedient which I adopted was
this: when I heard a profane oath, I accompanied it with a petition to
Heaven in behalf of him who had uttered it.

No man, young or old, should go to California unless he has firmness of
principle enough to resist, and forever hold at bay, all the vices of
the country, in whatever disguise they may present themselves, and in
however fascinating shapes they may appear.

If I were asked what was the state of religion in the mines, I could
only say, it is in _no state_. There are many men there who maintain
their integrity and their piety. If there is preaching, it is well and
respectfully attended. Many, perhaps most, occasionally read their
Bibles or tracts. There is a respect for religion, as there is a respect
for every thing which reminds one of home; but society must be in a very
different condition--it must be settled, and have some elements of
permanence--before a decidedly religious influence can be brought to
bear upon it. When I say that the sound of the pick, spade, and rocker
are seldom heard on the Sabbath--that the Bible is often and devoutly
read--that often, from beneath some cluster of trees, the cheering sound
of some hymn and the preacher’s voice are heard, it is as much as can be
said.

As to the operation of the laws at the mines, and their effects upon the
interests of the community, I can only give the facts in the case,
without discussing the subject. When we first reached the gold diggings,
life and property were comparatively secure. Without law, except the law
of honor; without restraint, except that imposed by the fear of summary
punishment, which was sure to follow the only crimes cognizable under
the new code--those of _stealing_ and of _murder_--we were comparatively
safe. If the “way of the transgressor was hard,” it was also speedily
terminated. It was the reign of the rifle and the halter. And yet this
was a people who had been accustomed to the laws of civilized countries,
and who yet loved order. The principles of a republican government were
only adapting themselves to a new and untried emergency. The crime was
committed, and proved in the presence of a competent and impartial jury,
who were also required to award the punishment. The sentence was
pronounced by the alcalde, a grave was dug, the sharp crack of the rifle
was heard, the body was buried, and every man proceeded silently to his
own work. I have never yet heard of the case in which the verdict given
under the first system was an unrighteous one, or the punishment
inflicted undeserved.

But a change came; civil laws were enacted in the mines; and what was
the result? Why, crimes of every kind were committed, and the very
officers of justice were met by the taunt, “Catch me, if you can!”
Seldom was the criminal caught; and when caught, more seldom was he
brought to punishment. And there is but one opinion among the miners,
that the system _without civil law, but with summary justice_, is, _in
the state of society which now exists_ in California, incomparably
better than the system _with such law, but without justice_.

Ere long, California will have a truly _golden age_, when _law and
justice, and every moral and Christian virtue_ shall prevail.




APPENDIX.


I give extracts from a letter which was written by Rev. Dr. Hitchcock,
president of Amherst College, as containing some valuable hints to the
miner. The reader will be struck by the accuracy of the opinions so
early expressed, and which correspond so exactly with the facts since
developed. It will be considered that Dr. Hitchcock could not then have
seen even the first official report from the Mint, as it was some time
after the receipt of his letter that the author had the pleasure of
hearing Dr. Patterson read that report in manuscript. The first deposit
of gold was made at the Mint December 8th, and the letter is dated
December 25th, 1848.


     _To the Rev. Daniel B. Woods._

     DEAR SIR,--I believe that in almost every case gold mines that are
     worked occur in loose soil, sand and gravel, where the gold is in
     grains, and has been washed out of the rocks. Such is the case in
     the Uralian Mountains and Siberia, where I believe that not one
     mine is worked in the solid rocks, although some veins are known. I
     should not, therefore, search for veins in the mountains, but try
     to find the best spots on the banks of rivers. Success must depend
     much, indeed, upon chance, though practice doubtless would afford
     some marks that would be of service. If you should find veins in
     the rocks, I doubt whether they would be profitable to work. I have
     a strong suspicion that gold will be found all along the western
     part of our Continent; perhaps through the whole of California and
     Oregon; for I suspect that this is the eastern side of a vast gold
     deposit in Asia, reaching as far west as the Uralian Mountains. If
     this opinion would increase the gold fever, I think you had better
     not mention it. It may not prove true.

     I hope you will improve your health, if not your fortunes, by this
     voyage. Let your expectations of success in gold-digging be
     moderate, and then I think the jaunt will do you good. That God’s
     providence may be over you is the wish and prayer of

                   Yours respectfully and sincerely,
                           EDWARD HITCHCOCK.

_Amherst, December 25th, 1848._

     P.S.--Magnetic iron sand is an almost invariable attendant of good
     deposits of gold, and I should not be very sanguine of finding good
     deposits when this is wanting.


     _Letter from Geo. F. Dunning, Esq., Clerk in the Mint of the United
     States._

                                         MINT OF THE UNITED STATES,   }
                                     _Philadelphia, June 18, 1851_.   }

     DEAR SIR,--In compliance with your request, I proceed to give you
     some information respecting the Mint establishment, and the terms
     upon which it receives bullion for coinage. You are doubtless
     correct in supposing that much misapprehension exists both as to
     the character of the establishment and the routine of its business.
     Within the limits of a letter, I can, of course, do little else
     than notice briefly a few prominent subjects.

     A uniform and reliable currency being a national benefit, our
     government regards the support of the Mint establishment as
     properly a national expense. Any person may bring his bullion to
     the Mint, and have it converted into coin without charge. Many
     well-informed persons suppose that all the coinage of the Mint is
     for government account. On the contrary, the bullion is all
     deposited by individuals, and is coined for them. Government simply
     receives the bullion, ascertains its value, converts it all to a
     uniform standard, shapes it into coins, and puts a stamp upon it
     that shall give assurance of its value. From the coins thus made,
     each depositor is paid the exact value of his bullion.

     The term _bullion_, as used at the Mint, includes all gold and
     silver, whether in the shape of bars, lumps, grains, plate, or
     foreign coins. All these varieties of bullion are received at the
     Mint for coinage, but no deposit is received of less value than one
     hundred dollars.

     The _weights_ used at the Mint are Troy weights, and they are
     always expressed in ounces and decimals of an ounce. Thus, 18 oz.
     15 dwt. is written 18·15 oz.

     The _fineness_ of bullion is expressed in thousandths. The standard
     of our coins, as fixed by law, is 900 thousandths; that is, in 1000
     ounces of coin, 900 ounces must be pure metal, and 100 alloy. The
     fineness of deposits is similarly expressed. Thus, 860 thousandths
     fine signifies that of a given weight (of gold, for instance) 860
     thousandth parts are pure gold, and the remainder (140 thousandths)
     some other metal.

     When bullion is left at the Mint for coinage, a receipt is given to
     the depositor, bearing the date and number of the deposit as
     entered in the weigh-book, and made payable to him or his order.
     In this receipt, of course, only the weight of the bullion before
     melting can be stated; its value depends upon its weight after
     melting, and its fineness, which is to be subsequently determined
     by assay.

     Each deposit is separately assayed and reported upon by the
     assayer. Its value is then calculated, and a detailed memorandum
     prepared, exhibiting the number, date, depositor’s name, kind of
     bullion, weights before and after melting, fineness, silver parted
     (if the deposit is gold), value of the gold, value of silver
     parted, deductions, and net value payable to the depositor. This
     memorandum is given to the depositor with his coin. Deposits are
     assayed, calculated, and ready for payment generally within a week
     after they are made; and they are paid on the surrender of the
     original Mint receipt.

     I have said that the Mint makes no charge for converting bullion
     into coin. This is strictly true; but, inasmuch as depositors will
     frequently find by their “memorandums” that certain deductions have
     been made by the Mint from the proceeds of their bullion, some
     farther explanations are required. A miller who should grind wheat
     and corn without taking _toll_, would be correctly said to grind
     without charge. And if a farmer should carry his wheat in the
     sheaf, or his corn in the ear, or corn and wheat mixed together in
     the same bag, he would hardly object to pay the miller for
     thrashing, shelling, or separating. If a depositor brings to the
     Mint bullion “fit for coinage,” that is, of standard fineness and
     properly alloyed, he will receive in return an equal weight of
     coins, without charge or deduction of any kind. If, however, his
     bullion requires _refining_, _alloying_, _toughening_, or
     _separating_, to make it “fit for coinage,” this preliminary
     expense, carefully determined by experience, is deducted from the
     proceeds of the deposit.

     The discovery of the California mines has suddenly increased the
     deposits at the Mint from five or six millions of dollars annually
     to thirty or forty millions. The whole amount received at the Mint
     and branches, from December, 1848, to this date, is about sixty-six
     millions of dollars. Of this, about twenty-four millions belong to
     the present year.

     The fineness of California gold ranges from about 825 to 950
     thousandths. The bulk of them, however, are between 870 and 900,
     the average being about 884. At this fineness, if entirely free
     from dirt, an ounce of gold, with the silver contained (deducting
     Mint charges), is $18 34. There is usually present in California
     gold a portion of dirt, averaging five or six per cent. of the
     weight. Five per cent. of dirt would reduce the average value given
     above to $17 42.

     The gold of California contains usually about eleven per cent. of
     silver. This silver is separated for the benefit of the depositor,
     when the amount contained in the deposit is sufficiently large to
     pay the expense of separating, and yield a surplus of at least five
     dollars. If the surplus is less than this, the depositor receives
     no benefit from it, the law requiring that it shall accrue to the
     Mint, and be used for paying ordinary expenses. It is therefore for
     the interest of depositors to make their deposits sufficiently
     large to secure the silver contained. At the average fineness of
     884, this would require from 75 to 80 ounces.

     For more complete information on this subject, your readers may be
     referred to a small work entitled “New Varieties of Coins and
     Bullion, &c., by J. R. Eckfeldt and W. E. Du Bois, Assayers of the
     Mint. 1850,” and to a pamphlet entitled “Guide to the Value of
     California Gold, by Geo. W. Edelman, U. S. Mint, 1850.”

               Very respectfully, your obedient servant,
                           GEO. F. DUNNING.


     Rev. Daniel B. Woods, Philadelphia.

     P.S.--The following rules for making calculations of weight and
     value may not be unacceptable to the readers of your book.

     1. _To convert Pounds Avoirdupois to Ounces Troy._--From the
     avoirdupois weight, expressed in pounds and decimals of a pound,
     subtract one eighth. Divide the sum thus obtained by ·06, and the
     quotient will be the Troy weight in ounces and decimals.

     2. _To convert Ounces Troy to Pounds Avoirdupois._--Multiply the
     Troy weight in ounces and decimals by ·06. To this product add its
     seventh, and you have the avoirdupois weight in pounds and
     decimals.

     3. _To find the Standard Weight of Gold or Silver, the gross weight
     and fineness being given._--Multiply the gross weight, in Troy
     ounces and decimals, by the fineness in thousandths, and divide the
     sum by 900. The quotient will be the standard weight in ounces and
     decimals.

     4. _To find the Value of Gold and Silver._--GOLD. Multiply the
     standard weight, in Troy ounces and decimals, by 800, and divide
     the product by 43. The quotient is the value in dollars and cents.

     SILVER. To the standard weight, in Troy ounces and decimals, add
     its one eleventh part, and eight tenths of one eleventh. The sum
     will be the value in dollars and cents.

     5. _To convert the fineness expressed in Carats into
     Thousandths._--Multiply the carats by 41⅔. The product is the
     equivalent fineness in thousandths.

Since the completion of my work, I have received from Col. J. J. Abert,
of Washington, the Report of P. T. Tyson, Esq., presented to the Senate
of the United States by the Secretary of War.

Although it is too late to avail myself of the valuable information
contained in this report from one who has made a thorough and scientific
reconnoissance of the mineral and vegetable wealth, the climate and
agriculture of California, I am induced to present a few extracts, which
refer more immediately to the mines. It was a source of much
gratification to find the views and statements I have given so fully
corroborated by this report.

It will be noticed that the averages of the daily profits of the miners
arrived at by Mr. Tyson, as the result of careful observation, differs
but a trifle from the averages given in this volume. In his article upon
the gold regions, he writes:

“Although a large amount of gold has been collected in California within
the past eighteen or twenty months” (he writes at the close of 1849),
“yet, considering the number of persons engaged in digging for it, the
average amount to each is far less than is generally supposed. This
conclusion is forced upon the mind irresistibly, when the results of the
actual experience of a large number of the operators are taken into
consideration.

“The newspapers frequently relate instances of the return of individuals
with considerable sums of gold. Many of these are much overrated, and
the far greater number obtained it by other means than digging with
their own hands--one portion by honest trading; but much of the
hard-earned treasure in the hands of returned individuals has been borne
off in triumph, and brought home as the spoils of the conqueror, in
contests where honor belongs to neither winner nor loser.

“Representations from and about California are to be received with many
grains of allowance. The preternatural excitement which has been
produced by divers causes, in some cases to promote individual benefit,
has really impaired to a large extent the faculty of seeing things as
they would otherwise have been viewed. And there is yet no prospect of
an end to this state of things, because, as soon as the public mind
begins to recover from the effects of previous causes of undue
excitement, additional ones are presented in the shape of most
exaggerated accounts of golden discoveries. Whether the public good will
be promoted by this state of things may well be doubted. A reference to
_some_ of these causes it is proper to give.

“It is the interest of the numerous traders within the gold region to
collect around them as many diggers as possible, and each is very
naturally induced to regard favorably the diggings of his own vicinity,
and takes means to spread accounts of its richness. Wonderful stories
are circulated, in some instances, to increase the population at a
particular spot; and when the diggers flock to it, they often find it no
better than the one they left, and sometimes less productive. A very
large proportion of those persons we saw in the gold region were _in
transitu_; and, upon inquiry, we learned from them usually that the
place they had left was unproductive, and they were bound for another
which they had _heard_ was producing very largely; and on the same day,
perhaps, would be seen other parties _prospecting_, as they term it, or
looking for better diggings than the poor ones they had left, and in
many cases just from the reported _good diggings_ the first party were
going to. At some of these places you would hear of some one being very
fortunate, and that they averaged per day a half ounce, one, two, or
three ounces; but, like the tariff for postage, they never appear to get
1½, 2½, 3½, and so on. These accounts from particular spots sometimes
find their way into California papers, and from them are copied and
spread far and wide at home. Notwithstanding all this waste of time, and
that nine out of ten who left their homes under erroneous expectations
in reference to the facility with which the gold could be had, have been
cruelly disappointed, yet the extent and number of the ravines
containing gold is such that the _large number_ of diggers have, in the
aggregate, produced a considerable amount of this metal.

“It is impossible to ascertain the amount of labor there has been
required, or, in other words, the average number who have worked at the
diggings, and the number of days’ work of each. * * If we suppose only
ten thousand to have worked steadily during three hundred days out of
about six hundred since the digging began, and suppose each to have
gained an average amount of $3 per day, the aggregate would amount to
$9,000,000, being very much more than the whole amount exported in
_every way_ from California up to the first December last, to all
countries, Oregon inclusive. As the cost of living fully equals $3 per
day, it would appear that gold-digging is not as good as laboring at
home, where the laborer can save something. * *

“Many of our citizens hastened to California during the past year in
consequence of the numerous exaggerated, one-sided stories which were
circulated in reference to the facility with which gold could be
gathered. They had been told of various individuals who had collected
large sums; a _few_ had done so; but the experience of the _many_, who
did not pay expenses by gold-digging alone, from the nature of the case,
is far less likely to be known.

“As with _lotteries_, the _few_ who draw large prizes become subjects of
conversation; but nothing is heard of the _many_ who draw blanks, or
prizes too small to pay the cost of the tickets. * * *

“Divesting the newspaper accounts from California of certain expressions
bordering rather too much upon the hyperbolic order, they amount to the
fact that the outcrops of certain veins”--of gold-bearing quartz--“have
been removed. Such expressions might have materially increased _the
fever_ but for the frequency of similar causes, which at length but
slightly affect the body politic, because, like the body corporate in
certain cases, it is becoming _acclimated_. Some of the expressions
alluded to, and copied from California papers into our own, about
‘_gold-bearing quartz said to be found in inexhaustible masses or
quarries through the whole mountainous region which forms the western
slope of the Sierra Nevada_,’ and ‘_these quartz mountain quarries_, and
divers others, are indicative of a state of aurimania. Accounts are also
given of the yield of gold said to be averages of these great _gold_
‘_quarries_.’ That the specimens from which the gold was extracted
contained the stated proportions is most likely, but that is a very
different affair from the _average_ rate of productions of a vein.”


THE END.

       *       *       *       *       *

LIGHT READING FOR TRAVELERS,

PUBLISHED BY

HARPER & BROTHERS, 82 CLIFF STREET, N. Y.

Harper’s Library of Select Novels.


No.

1. PELHAM. By Bulwer. 25 cents.

2. THE DISOWNED. By Bulwer. 25 cents.

3. DEVEREUX. By Bulwer. 25 cents.

4. PAUL CLIFFORD. By Bulwer. 25 cents.

5. EUGENE ARAM. By Bulwer. 25 cents.

6. THE LAST DAYS OF POMPEII. By Bulwer. 25 cents.

7. THE CZARINA. By Mrs. Hofland. 25 cents.

8. RIENZI. By Bulwer. 25 cents.

9. SELF-DEVOTION. By Miss Campbell. 25 cents.

10. THE NABOB AT HOME. 25 cents.

11. ERNEST MALTRAVERS. By Sir E. Bulwer Lytton. 25 cents.

12. ALICE, OR THE MYSTERIES. By Sir E. Bulwer Lytton. 25 cents.

13. THE LAST OF THE BARONS. By Sir E. Bulwer Lytton. 25 cents.

14. FOREST DAYS. By James. 12½ cents.

15. ADAM BROWN, the Merchant. By Horace Smith. 12½ cents.

16. THE PILGRIMS OF THE RHINE. By Sir E. Bulwer Lytton. 12½ cents.

17. THE HOME. By Miss Bremer. 12½ cents.

18. THE LOST SHIP. By Capt. Neale. 25 cts.

19. THE FALSE HEIR. By James. 12½ cts.

20. THE NEIGHBORS. By Miss Fredrika Bremer. 12½ cents.

21. NINA. By Miss Bremer. 12½ cents.

22. THE PRESIDENT’S DAUGHTERS. By Miss Fredrika Bremer. 12½ cents.

23. THE BANKER’S WIFE. By Mrs. Gore. 12½ cents.

24. THE BIRTHRIGHT. By Mrs. Gore. 12½ cents.

25. NEW SKETCHES OF EVERY-DAY LIFE. By Miss Bremer. 12½ cents.

26. ARABELLA STUART. By G. P. R. James, Esq. 12½ cents.

27. THE GRUMBLER. By Miss Ellen Pickering. 12½ cents.

28. THE UNLOVED ONE. By Mrs. Hofland. 12½ cents.

29. JACK OF THE MILL. By William Howitt. 12½ cents.

30. THE HERETIC. By Lajetchnikoff. 12½ cents.

31. THE JEW. By Spindler. 12½ cents.

32. ARTHUR. 25 cents.

33. CHATSWORTH. By Ward. 12½ cents.

34. THE PRAIRIE BIRD. By Charles A. Murray, Esq. 25 cents.

35. AMY HERBERT. By Miss Sewell. 12½ cents.

36. ROSE D’ALBRET. By James. 12½ cents.

37. TRIUMPHS OF TIME. By Mrs. Marsh. 25 cents.

38. THE H----FAMILY. By Miss Fredrika Bremer. 12½ cents.

39. THE GRANDFATHER. By Miss Ellen Pickering. 12½ cents.

40. ARRAH NEIL. By James. 12½ cents.

41. THE JILT. 12½ cents.

42. TALES FROM THE GERMAN. 12½ cents.

43. ARTHUR ARUNDEL. By Horace Smith. 25 cents.

44. AGINCOURT. By James. 25 cents.

45. THE REGENT’S DAUGHTER. 25 cents.

46. THE MAID OF HONOR. 25 cents.

47. SAFIA. By De Beauvoir. 12½ cents.

48. LOOK TO THE END. By Mrs. Ellis. 12½ cents.

49. THE IMPROVISATORE. By H. C. Andersen. 12½ cents.

50. THE GAMBLER’S WIFE. By Mrs. Grey. 25 cents.

51. VERONICA. By Zchokke. 25 cents.

52. ZOE. By Miss Jewsbury. 25 cents.

53. WYOMING. 25 cents.

54. DE ROHAN. 25 cents.

55. SELF. By the Author of “Cecil.” 25 cents.

56. THE SMUGGLER. By James. 25 cents.

57. THE BREACH OF PROMISE. By the Author of “The Jilt.” 25 cents.

53. THE PARSONAGE OF MORA. By Miss Fredrika Bremer. 12½ cents.

59. A CHANCE MEDLEY OF LIGHT MATTER. By T. C. Grattan. 25 cents.

60. THE WHITE SLAVE. 25 cents.

61. THE BOSOM FRIEND. By Mrs. Gray. 25 cents.

62. AMAURY. 25 cents.

63. THE AUTHOR’S DAUGHTER. By Mary Howitt. 12½ cents.

64. ONLY A FIDDLER! AND O. T. By H. C. Andersen. 25 cents.

65. THE WHITEBOY. By Mrs. Hall. 25 cts.

66. THE FOSTER BROTHER. Edited by Leigh Hunt. 25 cents.

67. LOVE AND MESMERISM. By Horace Smith. 25 cents.

68. ASCANIO. 25 cents.

69. THE LADY OF MILAN. Edited by Mrs. Thomson. 25 cents.

70. THE CITIZEN OF PRAGUE. Translated by Mary Howitt. 25 cents.

71. THE ROYAL FAVORITE. By Mrs. Gore. 25 cents.

72. THE QUEEN OF DENMARK. By Mrs. Gore. 25 cents.

73. THE ELVES, ETC. By Carlyle. 25 cts.

74, 75. THE STEP-MOTHER. By G. P. R. James, Esq. 50 cents.

76. JESSIE’S FLIRTATIONS. 25 cents.

77. CHEVALIER D’HARMENTAL; or, Love and Conspiracy. By Sue. 25 cents.

78. PEERS AND PARVENUS. By Mrs. Gore. 25 cents.

79. THE COMMANDER OF MALTA. By Sue. 25 cents.

80. THE FEMALE MINISTER. 12½ cents.

81. EMILIA WYNDHAM. By Mrs. Marsh. 25 cents.

82. THE BUSH RANGER. By Charles Rowcroft, Esq. 25 cents.

83. THE CHRONICLES OF CLOVERNOOK. By Douglas Jerrold. 12½ cents.

84. THE CONFESSIONS OF A PRETTY WOMAN. By Miss Pardoe. 25 cents.

85. LIVONIAN TALES. 12½ cents.

86. CAPTAIN O’SULLIVAN. By William H. Maxwell. 25 cents.

87. FATHER DARCY. By Mrs. Marsh. 25 cents.

88. LEONTINE. By Mrs. Maberly. 25 cents.

89. HEIDELBERG. By James. 25 cents.

90. LUCRETIA. By Bulwer. 25 cents.

91. BEAUCHAMP. By James. 25 cents.

92, 94. FORTESCUE. By Knowles. 50 cents.

93. DANIEL DENNISON, &c. By Mrs. Hofland. 25 cents.

95. CINQ-MARS. By De Vigny. 25 cents.

96. WOMAN’S TRIALS. By Mrs. S. C. Hall. 25 cents.

97. THE CASTLE OF EHRENSTEIN. By G. P. R. James, Esq. 25 cents.

98. MARRIAGE. By Miss S. Ferrier. 25 cents.

99, 100. THE INHERITANCE. By Miss S. Ferrier. 50 cents.

101. RUSSELL. By G. P. R. James. 25 cents.

102. A SIMPLE STORY. By Mrs. Inchbald. 25 cents.

103. NORMAN’S BRIDGE. By Mrs. Marsh. 25 cents.

104. ALAMANCE. 25 cents.

105. MARGARET GRAHAM. By G. P. R. James, Esq. 6¼ cents.

106. THE WAYSIDE CROSS. By E. H. Milman. 12½ cents.

107. THE CONVICT. By James. 25 cents.

108. MIDSUMMER EVE By Mrs. S. C. Hall. 25 cents.

109. JANE EYRE. By Currer Bell. 25 cents.

110. THE LAST OF THE FAIRIES. By G. P. R. James, Esq. 25 cents.

111. SIR THEODORE BROUGHTON. By G. P. R. James, Esq. 25 cents.

112. SELF-CONTROL. By Mary Brunton. 25 cents.

113, 114. HAROLD. By Bulwer. 50 cents.

115. BROTHERS AND SISTERS. By Miss Fredrika Bremer. 25 cents.

116. GOWRIE. By G. P. R. James. 25 cents.

117. A WHIM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. By G. P. R. James, Esq. 25 cents.

118. THREE SISTERS AND THREE FOR TUNES. By G. H. Lewes, Esq. 25 cents.

119. THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 25 cents.

120. THIRTY YEARS SINCE. By G. P. R. James, Esq. 25 cents.

121. MARY BARTON. By Mrs. Gaskell. 25 cts.

122. THE GREAT HOGGARTY DIAMOND. By W. M. Thackeray, Esq. 25 cents.

123. THE FORGERY. By James. 25 cents.

124. THE MIDNIGHT SUN. By Miss Fredrika Bremer. 12½ cents.

125, 126. THE CAXTONS. By Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 37½ cents.

127. MORDAUNT HALL. By Mrs. Marsh. 25 cents.

128. MY UNCLE THE CURATE. 25 cents.

129. THE WOODMAN. By James. 25 cents.

130. RETRIBUTION. By Mrs. Emma D. E. Nevitt Southworth. 25 cents.

131. SIDONIA THE SORCERESS. By William Meinhold. 50 cents.

132. SHIRLEY. By Currer Bell. 37½ cents.

133. THE OGILVIES. 25 cents.

134. CONSTANCE LYNDSAY; or, the Progress of Error. By C. G. H. 25 cents.

135. SIR EDWARD GRAHAM; or, Railway Speculators. By Miss C. Sinclair.
37½ cents.

136. HANDS NOT HEARTS. By Miss Janet W. Wilkinson. .25 cents.

137. THE WILMINGTONS. By Mrs. Marsh. 25 cents.

138. NED ALLEN. By D. Hannay. 25 cents.

139. NIGHT AND MORNING. By Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. 25 cents.

140. THE MAID OF ORLEANS. By the Author of “Whitefriars.” 37½ cents.

141. ANTONINA; or, the Fall of Rome. By W. Wilkie Collins, Esq. 37½
cents.

142. ZANONI. By Bulwer. 25 cents.

143. REGINALD HASTINGS. By Eliot Warburton, Esq. 25 cents.

144. PRIDE AND IRRESOLUTION: a new Series of the Discipline of Life. 25
cents.

145. THE OLD OAK CHEST. By G. P. R. James, Esq. 37½ cents.

146. JULIA HOWARD. By Mrs. Bell Martin. 25 cents.

147. ADELAIDE LINDSAY. Edited by Mrs. Marsh. 25 cents.

148. PETTICOAT GOVERNMENT. By Mrs. Trollope. 25 cents.

149. THE LUTTRELLS. By F. Williams, Esq. 25 cents.

150. SINGLETON FONTENOY, R.N. By James Hannay. 25 cents.

151. OLIVE. By the Author of “The Ogilvies.” 25 cents.

152. HENRY SMEATON. By G. P. R. James, Esq. 50 cents.

153. TIME, THE AVENGER. By Mrs. Marsh. 25 cents.

154. THE COMMISSIONER. By G. P. R James, Esq. 50 cents.

155. THE WIFE’S SISTER. By Mrs. Hubback. 25 cents.

156. THE GOLD WORSHIPERS; or, The Days we Live in. 25 cents.

Mount Hope; Or, Philip, King of the Wampanoags. An Historical Romance.
By G. H. HOLLISTER. 12mo, Paper, 62½ cents; Muslin, 75 cents.

The Heir of Wast-Wayland. A Tale. By MARY HOWITT. 12mo, Muslin.

The Moorland Cottage. By the Author of “Mary Barton.” 12mo, Paper, 25
cents; Muslin, 37½ cents.

Yeast: A Problem. By the Author of “Alton Locke.” 12mo, Muslin.

Alton Locke, Tailor and Poet. An Autobiography. 12mo, Muslin, 75 cents.

Jane Bouverie; Or, Prosperity and Adversity. By CATHERINE SINCLAIR.
12mo, Paper, 50 cents; Muslin, 62½ cents.

Eastbury. A Tale. By ANNA HARRIET DRURY. 12mo, Muslin.

Maurice Tiernay, The Soldier of Fortune. By CHARLES LEVER. 8vo, Paper.

Roland Cashel. By CHARLES LEVER. With Illustrations by Phiz. 8vo, Paper
75 cents; Muslin, $1 00.

Standish the Puritan; A Tale of the American Revolution. By ELDRED
GRAYSON, Esq. 12mo, Paper, 75 cents; Muslin, $1 00.

The Shoulder-Knot: Or, Sketches of the Three-fold Life of Man. A Story
of the 17th Century. By Rev. B. F. TEFFT. 12mo, Paper, 60 cents; Muslin,
75 cents.

Lavengro: The Gipsy--the Scholar--the Priest. By GEORGE BORROW. 8vo,
Paper, 25 cents.

Home Influence. A Tale for Mothers and Daughters. By GRACE AGUILAR. A
revised Edition, with a Memoir of the Author. 12mo, Paper, 75 cents;
Muslin, $1 00.

The Mother’s Recompense. A Sequel to “Home Influence.” By GRACE AGUILAR.
8vo, Paper, 25 cents.

Godfrey Malvern; Or, the Life of an Author. By THOMAS MILLER. With
numerous Illustrations. 8vo, Paper.

Vanity Fair. A Novel without a Hero. By W. M. THACKERAY. 8vo, Paper, $1
00; Muslin, $1 25.

The History of Pendennis: His Fortunes and Misfortunes, his Friends and
his greatest Enemy. By W. M. THACKERAY. With numerous Illustrations. 2
vols. 8vo, Muslin, $2 00

Raphael; Or, Pages from the Book of Life at Twenty. By ALPHONSE DE
LAMARTINE. 12mo, Paper, 25 cents.

Memoirs of my Youth. By ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE. 8vo, Paper, 25 cents.

Additional Memoirs of my Youth. By ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE. 8vo, Paper,
12½ cents.

Genevieve; Or, the History of a Servant Girl. Translated from the French
of A. DE LAMARTINE, by A. R. SCOBLE. 8vo, Paper, 12½ cents.

Jane Eyre: An Autobiography. Edited by CURRER BELL. Library Edition,
12mo, Muslin, 90 cents.

Shirley. A Tale. By the Author of “Jane Eyre.” Library Edition, 12mo,
Muslin, 90 cents.

The Children of the New Forest. A Novel. By Captain MARRYATT, R.N. 12mo,
Paper, 37½ cents; Muslin, 45 cents.

The Bachelor of the Albany. A Novel. By the Author of the “Falcon
Family.” 12mo, Paper, 37½ cents; Muslin, 45 cents.

Now and Then. A Tale. By Dr. WARREN. 12mo, Paper, 50 cents; Muslin, 60
cents.

Mary Grover; Or, the Trusting Wife. A Domestic Temperance Tale. By
CHARLES BURDETT. 12mo, Paper, 30 cents; Muslin, 40 cents.

Wuthering Heights. A Novel. 12mo, Paper, 50 cents; Muslin, 75 cents.

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. A Novel. 12mo, Paper, 50 cents; Muslin, 75
cents.

The Peasant and his Landlord. A Novel. By the Baroness KNORRING.
Translated by MARY HOWITT. 12mo, Paper, 50 cents; Muslin, 75 cents.

Agnes Morris; Or, the Heroine of Domestic Life. 12mo, Paper, 25 cents.

Angela. By Mrs. MARSH. 12mo, Paper, 75 cents; Muslin, 90 cents.

Lettice Arnold. By Mrs. MARSH. 8vo, Paper, 10 cents.

Edward Vernon: My Cousin’s Story. By EDMUND CHILDE. 12mo, Paper, 50
cents; Muslin, 75 cents.

The Image of his Father. A Tale of a Young Monkey. By HENRY MAYHEW. With
Illustrations. 12mo, Paper, 50 cents; Muslin, 75 cents.

Model Men, Women, and Children. By the Brothers MAYHEW. With
Illustrations. 18mo, Paper, 50 cents; Muslin, 62½ cents.

The Fear of the World; Or, Living for Appearances. By the Brothers
MAYHEW. With Illustrations. 8vo, Paper, 25 cents.

The Green Hand. A “Short” Yarn. 8vo, Paper, 25 cents.

The Professor’s Lady. Translated from the German of Berthold Auerbach,
by MARY HOWITT. With numerous Engravings. 8vo, Paper, 18¾ cents.

Adelaide Lindsay. A Novel. Edited by Mrs. MARSH. 8vo, Paper, 25 cents.

An Easter Offering. By FREDRIKA BREMER. Translated from the Unpublished
Swedish Manuscript, by MARY HOWITT. Contents: The Light House, Life in
the North. 8vo, Paper, 6¼ cents.

Miss Fredrika Bremer’s Novels. Comprising The Neighbors; The Home; The
President’s Daughters; Nina; New Sketches of Every-day Life; The
H----Family; The Parsonage of Mora. One Vol., 8vo, Muslin, $1 50.

Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit. By CHARLES DICKENS. With
numerous Illustrations. 8vo, Paper, 50 cents; Muslin, 75 cents.

Dickens’s Christmas Tales: Comprising The Haunted Man; The Cricket on
the Hearth; A Christmas Carol in Prose; The Chimes; The Battle of Life.
8vo, Muslin, 50 cents.

W. G. Simms’s Works: Comprising Guy Rivers; Martin Faber; Mellichampe;
The Partisan; The Yemasse; Pelayo.

Fielding’s Works: The History of Amelia, with Illustrations by
Cruikshank; The History of Tom Jones, with a Memoir of the Author, by
THOMAS ROSCOE, illustrated by Cruikshank.

Smollett’s Works: Roderic Random, with Illustrations by Cruikshank;
Humphrey Clinker, with a Memoir of the Author by THOMAS ROSCOE, with
Illustrations by Cruikshank; Adventures of Gil Blas, translated from the
French of LE SAGE, with a Memoir of the Author, by T. ROSCOE, with
Illustrations by Cruikshank.

Georgia Scenes. With Original Illustrations. 12mo, Muslin, 90 cents.

Scenes at Washington. A Story of the Last Generation. By a Citizen of
Maryland 12mo, Paper, 37½ cents; Muslin, 50 cents.

The Diary of a Physician. By Dr. WARREN. 3 vols. 18mo, Muslin, $1 35.

The Vicar of Wakefield. By OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 18mo, Muslin, 37½ cents.

Recollections of a Housekeeper. By Mrs. C. GILMAN. 18mo, Muslin, 45
cents.

Recollections of a Southern Matron. By Mrs. C. GILMAN. 12mo, Muslin, 90
cents.

Love’s Progress. By Mrs. C. GILMAN. 12mo, Muslin, 65 cents.

Miss Edgeworth’s Tales and Novels. With Engravings. 10 vols. 12mo,
Muslin, 75 cents per Volume. The Volumes sold separately or in Sets.

VOL. I. Castle Rackrent; Essay on Irish Bulls; Essay on Self
Justification; The Prussian Vase; The Good Aunt.

VOL. II. Angelina; The Good French Governess; Mademoiselle Panache; The
Knapsack; Lame Jervas; The Will; Out of Debt, out of Danger; The
Limerick Gloves; The Lottery; Rosanna.

VOL. III. Murad the Unlucky; The Manufacturers; Ennui; The Contrast; The
Grateful Negro; To-morrow; The Dun.

VOL. IV. Maneuvering; Almeria; Vivian.

VOL. V. The Absentee; Madame de Fleury; Emily de Coulanges; The Modern
Griselda.

VOL. VI. Belinda.

VOL. VII. Leonora; Letters on Female Education; Patronage.

VOL. VIII. Patronage; Comic Dramas.

VOL. IX. Harrington; Thoughts on Bores; Ormond.

VOL. X. Helen.

       *       *       *       *       *

Miscellaneous List of Novels and Romances.

ADVENTURES OF A YOUNGER SON: by Trelawney. 85 cents.

ALLEN PRESCOTT: by Mrs. Sedgwick. $1 25.

ANASTASIUS: by T. Hope. 50 cents.

THE ATLANTIC CLUB-BOOK: by Paulding and others. 50 cents.

BERNARDO DEL CARPIO: by Montgomery. 50 cents.

BLACKBEARD: a Page from the Colonial History of Philadelphia. $1 25.

BURTON: by Ingraham. 75 cents.

THE BOOK OF ST. NICHOLAS: by Paulding. 62½ cents.

THE BUDGET OF THE BUBBLE FAMILY: by Lady Bulwer. 90 cents.

THE CABINET MINISTER: by Mrs. Gore. 85 cents.

CALEB WILLIAMS: by Godwin. 85 cents.

CAPTAIN KYD: by Ingraham. 75 cents.

THE CAVALIERS OF VIRGINIA: by Caruthers. $1 25.

CHEVELEY: by Lady Bulwer. 90 cents.

       *       *       *       *       *

Valuable Standard Publications

ISSUED BY

HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK.


Addison’s complete Works. Including the Spectator entire. With a
Portrait. 3 vols. 8vo, Sheep extra, $5 50.

The Spectator in Miniature. Selections from the Spectator; embracing the
most interesting Papers by Addison and others. 2 vols. 18mo, Muslin, 90
cents.

Arabian Nights’ Entertainments. Or, the Thousand and One Nights.
Translated and arranged for Family Reading, with explanatory Notes, by
E. W. LANE, Esq. With 600 Engravings. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, plain edges,
$3 50, Muslin, gilt edges, $3 75; Turkey Morocco, gilt edges, $6 00.

Bacon and Locke. Essays, Moral, Economical, and Political. And the
Conduct of the Understanding. 18mo, Muslin, 45 cents.

Bucke’s Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature. 18mo, Muslin, 45
cents.

Chesterfield’s Works. Including his Letters to his Son, complete. With a
Memoir. 8vo, Muslin, $1 75.

The Moral, Social, and Professional Duties of Attorneys and Solicitors.
By SAMUEL WARREN, F.R.S. 18mo, Muslin, 75 cents.

The Incarnation; Or, Pictures of the Virgin and her Son. By the Rev.
CHARLES BEECHER. With an introductory Essay, by Mrs. HARRIET B. STOWE.
18mo, Muslin.

Blackstone’s Commentaries on the Laws of England. With the last
Corrections of the Author, and Notes from the Twenty-first London
Edition. With copious Notes explaining the Changes in the Law effected
by Decision or Statute down to 1844. Together with Notes adapting the
Work to the American Student, by J. L. WENDELL, Esq. With a Memoir of
the Author. 4 vols. 8vo, Sheep extra, $7 00.

Burke’s complete Works. With a Memoir. Portrait. 3 vols. 8vo, Sheep
extra, $5 00.

Letters, Conversations, and Recollections of S. T. Coleridge. 12mo,
Muslin, 65 cents.

Specimens of the Table-talk of S. T. Coleridge. Edited by H. N.
COLERIDGE. 12mo, Muslin, 70 cents.

Mardi: and a Voyage Thither. By HERMAN MELVILLE. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin,
$1 75.

Omoo; Or, a Narrative of Adventures in the South Seas. By HERMAN
MELVILLE. 12mo, Muslin, $1 25.

Montgomery’s Lectures on General Literature, Poetry, &c., with a
Retrospect of Literature, and a View of modern English Literature. 18mo,
Muslin, 45 cents.

Boswell’s Life of Dr. Johnson. Including a Journal of a Tour to the
Hebrides. With numerous Additions and Notes, by J. W. CROKER, LL.D. A
new Edition Portraits. 2 vols. 8vo, Muslin, $2 75; Sheep extra, $3 00.

Dr. Samuel Johnson’s complete Works. With an Essay on his Life and
Genius, by A. MURPHY, Esq. Engravings. 2 vols. 8vo, Muslin, $2 75; Sheep
extra, $3 00.

Cicero’s Offices, Orations, &c. The Orations translated by DUNCAN; the
Offices, by COCKMAN; and the Cato and Lælius, by MELMOTH. With a
Portrait. 3 vols. 18mo, Muslin, $1 25.

Paley’s Natural Theology. A new Edition, from large Type, edited by D.
E. BARTLETT. Copiously Illustrated, and a Life and Portrait of the
Author. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $1 50.

Paley’s Natural Theology. With illustrative Notes, &c., by Lord BROUGHAM
and Sir C. BELL, and preliminary Observations and Notes, by ALONZO
POTTER, D.D. With Engravings. 2 vols. 18mo, Muslin, 90 cents.

The Orations of Demosthenes. Translated by Dr. LELAND. 2 vols. 18mo,
Muslin, 85 cents.

Lamb’s Works. Comprising his Letters, Poems, Essays of Elia, Essays upon
Shakespeare, Hogarth, &c., and a Sketch of his Life, by T. N. TALFOURD.
Portrait. 2 vols. royal 12mo, Muslin, $2 00.

Hoes and Way’s Anecdotical Olio. Anecdotes, Literary, Moral, Religious,
and Miscellaneous. 8 vol. Muslin, $1 00.

Dendy’s Philosophy of Mystery. 12mo, Muslin, 50 cents.

Potter’s Hand-book for Readers and Students, Intended to assist private
Individuals, Associations, School Districts, &c., in the Selection of
useful and interesting Works for Reading and Investigation. 18mo,
Muslin, 45 cents.

Amenities of Literature; Consisting of Sketches and Characters of
English Literature, By I. D’Israeli, D.C.L., F.S.A. 2 vols. 12mo,
Muslin, $1 50.

Dryden’s complete Works. With a Memoir. Portrait. 2 vols. 8vo, Sheep
extra, $3 75.

Woman in America; Being an Examination into the Moral and Intellectual
Conditions of American Female Society. By Mrs. A. J. GRAVES. 18mo,
Muslin, 45 cents.

Homes and Haunts of the most eminent British Poets. By WILLIAM HOWITT.
With numerous Illustrations. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $3 00.

Mrs. Jameson’s Visits and Sketches at Home and Abroad. Including the
“Diary of an Ennuyée.” 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

The Sacred Philosophy of the Seasons. Illustrating the Perfections of
God in the Phenomena of the Year. By the Rev. HENRY DUNCAN, D.D. Edited
by F. W. P. GREENWOOD, D.D. 4 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $3 00.

Mackenzie’s Novels and Miscellaneous Works: Comprising The Man of
Feeling, The Man of the World, Julia de Roubigne, &c. With a Memoir of
the Author, by Sir WALTER SCOTT. Royal 12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

How to Observe: Morals and Manners. By Miss HARRIET MARTINEAU. 12mo,
Muslin, 42½ cents.

The Spoon. With upward of 100 Illustrations, Primitive, Egyptian, Roman,
Mediæval, and Modern. By H. O. WESTMAN. 8vo, Muslin, $1 25.

Neele’s Literary Remains. The Literary Remains of Henry Neele. 8vo,
Muslin, $1 00.

A New Spirit of the Age. Edited by R. H. HORNE. 12mo, Paper, 25 cents.

Men, Women, and Books. A Selection of Sketches, Essays, and Critical
Memoirs, from his uncollected Prose Writings. By LEIGH HUNT. 2 vols.
12mo, Muslin, $1 50.

Georgia Scenes. With original Illustrations. 12mo, Muslin, 90 cents.

Hannah More’s complete Works. With Engravings. 1 vol. 8vo, Sheep extra,
$2 50; 2 vols., Sheep extra, $2 75.

Hannah More’s complete Works. Printed from large Type. 7 vols. royal
12mo, Muslin, $6 50.

Blunt’s Ship-master’s Assistant and Commercial Digest: comprising
Information necessary for Merchants, Owners, and Masters of Ships on the
following Subjects: Masters, Mates, Seamen, Owners, Ships, Navigation
Laws, Fisheries, Revenue Cutters, Custom House Laws, Importations,
Clearing and Entering Vessels, Drawbacks, Freight, Insurance, Average,
Salvage, Bottomry and Respondentia, Factors, Bills of Exchange,
Exchange, Currencies, Weights, Measures, Wreck Laws, Quarantine Laws,
Passenger Laws, Pilot Laws, Harbor Regulations, Marine Offenses, Slave
Trade, Navy, Pensions, Consuls, Commercial Regulations of Foreign
Nations. With an Appendix, containing the Tariff of the United States,
and an Explanation of Sea Terms. 8vo, Sheep extra, $4 50.

Miss Edgeworth’s Tales and Novels. With Engravings. 10 vols. 12mo,
Muslin. 75 cents per Volume. Sold separately or in Sets.

Mrs. Sherwood’s Works. With Engravings. 16 vols. 12mo, Muslin. 85 cents
per Volume. Sold separately or in Sets.

Louis the Fourteenth, and the Court of France in the Seventeenth
Century. By Miss PARDOE. With numerous Engravings, Portraits, &c. 2
vols. 12mo, Muslin, $3 50.

The Philosophy of Life and Philosophy of Language, in a Course of
Lectures. By FREDERICK VON SCHLEGEL. Translated from the German, by the
Rev. A. J. W. MORRISON, M.A. 12mo, Muslin, 90 cents.

Prescott’s Biographical and Critical Miscellanies. Containing Notices of
Charles Brockden Brown, the American Novelist.--Asylum for the
Blind.--Irving’s Conquest of Granada.--Cervantes.--Sir Walter
Scott.--Chateaubriand’s English Literature.--Bancroft’s History of the
United States.--Madame Calderon’s Life in Mexico.--Molière.--Italian
Narrative Poetry.--Scottish Song, &c. 8vo, Muslin, $2 00; Sheep extra,
$2 25; half Calf, $2 50.

Pursuit of Knowledge under Difficulties; Its Pleasures and Rewards.
Illustrated by Memoirs of eminent Men. 2 vols. 18mo, Muslin, 90 cents.

Pursuit of Knowledge under Difficulties; Its Pleasures and Rewards.
Illustrated by Memoirs of eminent Men. Edited by Rev. Dr. WAYLAND. With
Portraits. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $1 50.

Letters to Mothers. By Mrs. L. H. SIGOURNEY. 12mo, Muslin, 90 cents;
Muslin, gilt edges, $1 00.

Letters to Young Ladies. By Mrs. L. H. SIGOURNEY. 12mo, Muslin, 90
cents; Muslin, gilt edges, $1 00.

The Doctor, &c. By ROBERT SOUTHEY. 12mo, Muslin, 45 cents.

Percy Anecdotes. To which is added, a Selection of American Anecdotes.
With Portraits. 8vo, Sheep extra, $2 00.

The Writings of Robert C. Sands. With a Memoir. 2 vols. 8vo, Muslin, $3
75.

Sismondi’s Historical View of the Literature of the South of Europe.
Translated, with Notes, by THOMAS ROSCOE. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $1 80.

Hon. J. C. Smith’s Correspondence and Miscellanies. With an Eulogy, by
the Rev. WILLIAM W. ANDREWS. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

England and America: A Comparison of the Social and Political State of
both Nations. By E. G. WAKEFIELD. 8vo, Muslin, $1 25.

Letters of the British Spy. By WILLIAM WIRT. To which is prefixed a
Sketch of the Author’s Life. 12mo, Muslin, 60 cents.

Paulding’s Letters from the South. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $1 25.

Indian Tales and Legends; Or, Algic Researches. Comprising Inquiries
respecting the Mental Characteristics of the North American Indians. By
HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $1 25.

Cassius M. Clay’s Writings; Including Speeches and Addresses. With a
Preface and Memoir, by HORACE GREELEY. Portrait. 8vo, Muslin, $1 50.

Past and Present, Chartism, and Sartor Resartus. By THOMAS CARLYLE.
12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

Mathews’s Miscellaneous Writings: Embracing The Motley Book, Behemoth,
The Politicians, Poems on Man in the Republic, Wakondah, Puffer Hopkins,
Miscellanies, &c. 8vo, Muslin, $1 00.

Verplanck’s Right Moral Influence and Use of Liberal Studies. 12mo,
Muslin, 25 cents.

Raphael; Or, Pages of the Book of Life at Twenty. By A. DE LAMARTINE.
12mo, Paper, 25 cents.

Thankfulness. A Narrative. Comprising Passages from the Diary of the
Rev. Allan Temple. By the Rev. C. B. TAYLER. 12mo, Paper, 37½ cents;
Muslin, 50 cents.

Longfellow’s Poems. A new Edition, enlarged by the Addition of
“Evangeline.” 8vo, Paper, 62½ cents.

Harper’s Illustrated Shakespeare. The complete Dramatic Writings of
William Shakespeare, arranged according to recent approved collations of
the Text; with Notes and other Illustrations, by Hon. GULIAN C.
VERPLANCK. Superbly Embellished by over 1400 exquisite Engravings by
Hewet, after Designs by Meadows, Weir, and other eminent Artists. 3
vols. royal 8vo, Muslin, $18 00; half Calf, $20 00; Turkey Morocco, gilt
edges, $25 00.

Shakespeare’s Dramatic Works. With the Corrections and Illustrations of
Dr. JOHNSON, G. STEEVENS, and others. Revised by ISAAC REED, Esq. With
Engravings. 6 vols. royal 12mo, Muslin, $6 50.

Shakespeare’s Dramatic Works and Poems. With Notes, by SAMUEL WELLER
SINGER, and a Life of the Poet, by CHARLES SYMMONS, D.D. With
Engravings. 8vo, Sheep extra, 1 vol., $2 50; 2 vols., $2 75.

Milton’s Poetical Works. With a Memoir and Critical Remarks on his
Genius and Writings, by JAMES MONTGOMERY. With 120 Engravings. 2 vols.
8vo, Muslin, gilt edges, $3 75; imitation Morocco, gilt edges, $4 25;
Turkey Morocco, gilt edges, $5 00.

Cowper’s Poetical Works. With a Biographical and Critical Introduction,
by the Rev. THOMAS DALE. With 75 Illustrations. 2 vols. 8vo, Muslin,
gilt edges, $3 75; Turkey Morocco, gilt edges, $5 00.

Thomson’s Seasons. With numerous engraved Illustrations. And with the
Life of the Author, by PATRICK MURDOCH, D.D., F.R.S. Edited by BOLTON
CORNEY. Esq. 8vo, Muslin, gilt edges, $2 75; imitation Morocco, gilt
edges, $3 50; Turkey Morocco, gilt edges, $4 00.

Goldsmith’s Poetical Works. Illustrated by numerous Wood Engravings.
With a Biographical Memoir, and Notes on the Poems. Edited by BOLTON
CORNEY, Esq. 8vo, Muslin, gilt edges, $2 50; imitation Morocco, gilt
edges, $3 25; Turkey Morocco, gilt edges, $3 75.

       *       *       *       *       *

CHOICE WORKS FOR LIBRARIES,

JUST PUBLISHED

BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK.


Harper’s New Monthly Magazine. The Magazine will contain all the
continuous Tales of Dickens, Bulwer, Croly, Lever, Warren, and other
distinguished contributors to British periodicals: Critical Notices of
the Publications of the day: Speeches and Addresses of distinguished Men
upon Topics of universal Interest: articles from Punch and other well
known humorous publications, and some of the master-pieces of classical
English literature, illustrated in a style of unequaled elegance and
beauty; notices of Events, in Science, Literature, and Art, in which the
people at large have an interest, &c., &c. Special regard will be had to
such Articles as relate to the Economy of Social Life, or tend to
promote in any way the well-being of those who are engaged in any
department of Productive Activity. A carefully prepared Fashion Plate
and other Pictorial Illustrations will accompany each Number. Every
Number of the Magazine will contain 144 octavo pages, in double columns.
The volumes of a single Year, therefore, will present nearly 2000 Pages
of the choicest of the Miscellaneous Literature of the Age. TERMS.--$3
00 a year, or 25 cents a Number. Bound volumes, comprising the Numbers
for Six Months, Muslin, $2 00.

Strickland’s (Miss) Lives of the Queens of Scotland, and English
Princesses connected with the Regal Succession of Great Britain. 6 vols.
12mo, Muslin, $1 00 per Vol.

Mayhew’s Treatise on Popular Education: For the Use of Parents and
Teachers, and for Young Persons of both Sexes. Prepared and Published in
accordance with a Resolution of the Senate and House of Representatives
of the State of Michigan. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

Hildreth’s History of the United States, From the first Settlement of
the Country to the Organization of Government under the Federal
Constitution. 3 vols. 8vo, Muslin, $6 00; Sheep, $6 75; half Calf, $7
50.

Hildreth’s History of the United States, continued: from the Adoption of
the Federal Constitution to the End of the Sixteenth Congress. 3 vols.
8vo, Muslin, $6 00; Sheep, $6 75; half Calf, $7 50.

Loomis’s Recent Progress of Astronomy, Especially in the United States.
12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

Cheever’s (Rev. H. T.) Island World of the Pacific: being the Personal
Narrative and Results of Travel through the Sandwich or Hawaiian
Islands, and other Parts of Polynesia. With Engravings. 12mo, Muslin, $1
00.

Lossing’s Pictorial Field-Book of the Revolution; or, Illustrations, by
Pen and Pencil, of the History, Scenery, Biography, Relics, and
Traditions of the War for Independence. Embellished with 600 Engravings
on Wood, chiefly from Original Sketches by the Author. In about 20
Numbers, 8vo, Paper, 25 cents each.

Abbott’s Illustrated Histories: Comprising, Xerxes the Great, Cyrus the
Great, Alexander the Great, Darius the Great, Hannibal the Carthaginian,
Julius Cæsar, Cleopatra Queen of Egypt, Constantine, Nero, Romulus,
Alfred the Great, William the Conqueror, Queen Elizabeth, Mary Queen of
Scots, Charles the First, Charles the Second, Queen Anne, King John,
Richard the First, William and Mary, Maria Antoinette, Madame Roland,
Josephine. Illuminated Title-pages, and numerous Engravings. 16mo,
Muslin, 60 cents each; Muslin, gilt edges, 75 cents each.

Abbott’s Kings and Queens; Or, Life in the Palace: consisting of
Historical Sketches of Josephine and Maria Louisa, Louis Philippe,
Ferdinand of Austria, Nicholas, Isabella II., Leopold, and Victoria.
With numerous Illustrations. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00; Muslin, gilt edges, $1
25.

Abbott’s Summer in Scotland. Engravings. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

Southey’s Life and Correspondence. Edited by his Son, Rev. CHARLES
CUTHBERT SOUTHEY, M.A. In 6 Parts, 8vo, Paper, 25 cents each; one
Volume, Muslin, $2 00.

Howitt’s Country Year-Book; Or, the Field, the Forest, and the Fireside.
12mo, Muslin, 87½ cents.

Fowler’s Treatise on the English Language In its Elements and Forms.
With a History of its Origin and Development, and a full Grammar.
Designed for Use in Colleges and Schools. 8vo, Muslin, $1 50; Sheep, $1
75.

Seymour’s Sketches of Minnesota, The New England of the West. With
Incidents of Travel in that Territory during the Summer of 1849. With a
Map. 12mo, Paper, 50 cents; Muslin, 75 cents.

Dr. Johnson’s Religious Life and Death. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

Cumming’s Five Years of a Hunter’s Life In the Far Interior of South
Africa. With Notices of the Native Tribes, and Anecdotes of the Chase of
the Lion, Elephant, Hippopotamus, Giraffe, Rhinoceros, &c. Illustrated
by numerous Engravings. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $1 75.

Thornton’s Oregon and California in 1848: With an Appendix, including
recent and authentic Information on the Subject of the Gold Mines of
California, and other valuable Matter of Interest to the Emigrant, &c.
With Illustrations and a Map. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $1 75.

Southey’s Common-place Book. Edited by his Son-in-Law, JOHN WOOD WARTER,
B.D. 8vo, Paper, $1 00 per Volume; Muslin, $1 25 per Volume.

Gibbon’s History of Rome, With Notes, by Rev. H. H. MILMAN and M.
GUIZOT. Maps and Engravings. 4 vols. 8vo, Sheep extra, $5 00.--A new
Cheap edition, with Notes by Rev. H. H. MILMAN. To which is added a
complete Index of the whole Work and a Portrait of the Author. 6 vols.
12mo (uniform with Hume), Cloth, $2 40; Sheep, $3 00.

Hume’s History of England, From the Invasion of Julius Cæsar to the
Abdication of James II., 1688. A new Edition, with the Author’s last
Corrections and Improvements. To which is prefixed a Short Account of
his Life, written by Himself. With a Portrait of the Author. 6 vols.
12mo, Cloth, $2 40; Sheep, $3 00.

Macaulay’s History of England, From the Accession of James II. With an
original Portrait of the Author. Vols. I. and II. Library Edition, 8vo,
Muslin, 75 cents per Volume; Sheep extra, 87½ cents per Volume; Calf
backs and corners, $1 00 per Volume.--Cheap Edition, 8vo, Paper, 25
cents per Volume.--12mo (uniform with Hume), Cloth, 40 cents per Volume.

Leigh Hunt’s Autobiography, With Reminiscences of Friends and
Contemporaries. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $1 50.

Life and Letters of Thomas Campbell. Edited by WILLIAM BEATTIE, M.D.,
one of his Executors. With an Introductory Letter by WASHINGTON IRVING,
Esq. Portrait. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $2 50.

Dyer’s Life of John Calvin. Compiled from authentic Sources, and
particularly from his Correspondence. Portrait. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

Moore’s Health, Disease, and Remedy, Familiarly and practically
considered, in a few of their Relations to the Blood. 18mo, Muslin, 60
cents.

Humboldt’s Cosmos: A Sketch of a Physical Description of the Universe.
Translated from the German, by E. C. OTTÉ. 2 vols. 12mo, Paper, $1 50;
Muslin, $1 70.

Dr. Lardner’s Railway Economy: A Treatise on the New Art of Transport,
its Management, Prospects, and Relations, Commercial, Financial, and
Social; with an Exposition of the Practical Results of the Railways in
Operation in the United Kingdom, on the Continent, and in America. 12mo,
Paper, 75 cents; Muslin, $1 00.

Urquhart’s Pillars of Hercules; Or, a Narrative of Travels in Spain and
Morocco in 1848. 2 vols. 12mo, Paper, $1 40; Muslin, $1 70.

Sidney Smith’s Moral Philosophy. An Elementary Treatise on Moral
Philosophy, delivered at the Royal Institution in the Years 1804, 1805,
and 1806. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

Tefft’s (Rev. B. F.) The Shoulder-Knot; Or, Sketches of the Three-fold
Life of Man. 12mo, Paper, 60 cents, Muslin, 75 cents.

Bishop Hopkins’s History of the Confessional. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

Greeley’s Hints toward Reforms. In Lectures, Addresses, and other
Writings. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

Chalmers’s Life and Writings. Edited by his Son-in-Law, Rev. WILLIAM
HANNA, LL.D. 3 vols. 12mo, Paper, 75 cents; Muslin, $1 00 per Volume.

Chalmers’s Posthumous Works. Edited by the Rev. WILLIAM HANNA, LL.D.
Complete in Nine Volumes, comprising,

DAILY SCRIPTURE READING. 3 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $3 00.

SABBATH SCRIPTURE READINGS. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $2 00.

SERMONS, from 1798 to 1847. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

INSTITUTES OF THEOLOGY. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, $2 00.

PRELECTIONS on Butler’s Analogy, Paley’s Evidences of Christianity, and
Hill’s Lectures in Divinity. With Two Introductory Lectures, and Four
Addresses delivered in the New College, Edinburgh. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00.

Rev. H. T. Cheever’s The Whale and his Captors; or, the Whaleman’s
Adventures and the Whale’s Biography, as gathered on the Homeward Cruise
of the “Commodore Preble.” With Engravings. 18mo, Muslin, 60 cents.

James’s Dark Scenes of History. 12mo, Muslin, $1 00; Paper, 75 cents.


FOOTNOTES:

[A] We were induced to come to this place by the accounts we received
of the success of two brothers--Jordan--who, in a few weeks, made $3000
here, and are now on their way home.

[B] The following anecdote will illustrate this sentiment. A foreigner
of considerable wealth hastened with the crowd to California. After
spending a few days in San Francisco, he left for home, without making
an investment of his money. He remarked, in a letter to a friend, “As
soon as you reach San Francisco you will think every one is crazy; and
without great caution, you will be crazy yourself.”


Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:

the year 1848, Mr. Suter employed=> the year 1848, Mr. Suter employed
{pg 17}

at whcih they gazed=> at which they gazed {pg 17}

during the rainy reason=> during the rainy season {pg 50}

anxiety and disappoinment=> anxiety and disappointment {pg 71}

those rich deposites=> those rich deposits {pg 77}

BULES OF AN ENCAMPMENT=> RULES OF AN ENCAMPMENT {pg 123}

Do you nct perceive=> Do you not perceive {pg 188}