History of the State of California. Frost John
a vegetable diet, which I procured by paying three dollars per pound for potatoes, in a very short time I recovered."
Thus life in the gold region is made up of variety and contrast. Sometimes the diggers and washers pass weeks busily engaged at their toilsome occupation, without the monotony of the time and scene being disturbed. Again, adventures and exciting incidents will be plentiful and various. At one time, pleasant weather and fandangos offer easy enjoyment; at another, extremes of weather, hard work, and bad food render the life of the miner almost intolerable. Frequently, the gold-seeker chances to meet spots that yield ample reward for his toil; and often he works beneath the fierce rays of a broiling sun, while his legs are in chilly water, and his day's toil scarce yields more than enough to pay for his living. The trading-posts, situated at and near the mines, do a far more certain and an equally profitable business. They are generally the establishments of shrewd, speculating Yankees, who know what sort of labor is requisite to make a gold-seeker successful, and prefer to trust to the profits of bargaining in provisions and mining necessaries for gold.
That the country is pregnant with an enormous quantity of the precious metal is unquestionable. But that severe and weakening labor, together with tough constitutions, are indispensable requisites for procuring it, scarcely admits of a doubt. Very few spend any considerable time in working at the "diggings," who do not suffer from exposure, and lose a portion of their constitutional stability. So far, all attempts at the construction of machines for washing the gold from the sand, have been of little avail. Machines have been invented and carried out to the gold region by some of the numerous companies, which, upon trial, have soon been abandoned for the "cradle," and common wash pan; but still, the field for invention is open, and the labor now necessary for procuring the gold is susceptible of considerable diminution. Of course, the means of transporting provisions and other necessaries to the mines are constantly improving, as the country is becoming settled; and thus, one great source of privation and disease is rapidly diminishing.
CHAPTER VIII
At the time of the discovery of the existence of gold in the region of the Sacramento, San Francisco was a very inconsiderable town. As soon as the news of the discovery was spread among its inhabitants, it became almost deserted. Indeed, at one time, there was only seven male inhabitants left in the town. The site of the present city of San Francisco was not then occupied by more than fifty houses in all. These were occupied by a few foreign merchants and some native Californians. The houses were rudely constructed, the principal materials being adobés, or unburnt bricks. They were generally one story high, and most of them were erected near the beach; while at the rear of the "town," was a sandy plain terminated by a range of hills. But as soon as the news of the gold discovery reached the United States, and other countries, companies for mining purposes were immediately formed, and emigrants soon crowded every route to the "Land of Promise." Then San Francisco began to be the great receptacle of the emigrants and the merchandise of various kinds necessary for their maintenance. The following is a very complete picture of the city after the spreading of the gold news, and the flood of emigration had commenced.
"Numberless vessels, mostly from the United States, filled the bay, in front of San Francisco, many of them being deserted by their crews, and unable to procure others to take their places. On landing, I had to clamber up a steep hill, on the top of which, and opposite to where I stood, was a large wooden house, two stories high, and scarcely half finished. In the rear of this, rose another and a steeper hill, whose slopes were covered with a multiplicity of tents. To my right, ran a sort of steep, or precipice, defended by sundry pieces of cannon, which commanded the entrance to the harbor. I next came to the 'Point,' and, crossing it, found myself within the town.
"The first objects that attracted my notice were several canvas houses, measuring from ten to forty feet square, some being grog-shops, others eating establishments, and the larger set apart as warehouses, or places of storage. The proprietors of the latter were making enormous sums by the accommodation their tents afforded to the hundreds of travellers who were arriving every day from different parts, and who, being extremely embarrassed as to what they should do with their luggage, were heartily glad to find any safe place to store it in, and content to pay for the convenience.
"The spectacle which the beach presented from a convenient opening, whence I could comprise the whole at a glance, was singularly interesting and curious. A crowd of individuals, in motley garb, and of every variety of race, might be seen pressing eagerly upward towards the town, jostling and pushing one another, in their anxiety to be first, yet looking eagerly about them, as if to familiarize themselves at once with the country of their adoption. Here were dandies from the United States and from France, picking their steps mincingly, as they strove to keep pace with the sturdy fellows who carried their luggage; their beaver hats, fashionable frock-coats, irreproachable and well-strapped pantaloons, exciting the derisive remarks of the spectators, the majority of them 'old Californians,' whose rough labor at the 'diggins' had taught them to estimate such niaiseries at their proper value. By their side stalked the stately and dignified Spaniard, covered with his broad-brimmed, low-crowned sombrero, and gracefully enveloped in his ample serapa, set off by a bright scarlet sash. He turns neither to the right nor to the left, nor heeds the crowd about him, but keeps on the even tenor of his way – though even he has occasionally to jump for it – presenting, in his demeanor and costume, a striking contrast to the more bustling activity of the Yankees, who are elbowing every one, in their anxiety to go a-head. A lot of shopboys, too – mere lads, as spruce and neatly attired as though they had just stepped out of some fashionable emporium, mingle with the rest, and, as they enter the town, strike up the popular parody —
'Oh, California. That's the land for me!
I'm bound for the Sacramento, with
The wash-bowl on my knee.'
And presently, their brother-adventurers, excited by hopes of the wildest kind, join vociferously in chorus, in the exuberance of their joy.
"A group of Englishmen, muscular in form, and honest in feature, are chaffering with the keen-witted Yankee porters for the carriage of their luggage. There is an air of dogged resolution about them, that plainly indicates they will not submit to what they evidently consider an imposition. Such a sum for so slender a service! Well, then, they can carry their baggage themselves: so they will; and, quickly shouldering it, some depart in the track of the rest, whilst two or three remain behind, to watch what is left, until their friends return. They are manifestly well known to one another, and seem to be almost intimate; the voyage has made them friends.
"Here come a number of Chilians and Peruvians, and a goodly number of natives from the Sandwich Islands. A couple of Irishmen, too! I know them by their vivacity, and by the odd trick they have of getting into every body's way; to say nothing of their broad, merry faces. Their property is in common, it seems; for they have only one small pack between them.
"Here come ten or a dozen plainly but comfortably dressed mechanics; hard-working men they seem, and just the sort of persons to make their way in a country where the artisan occupies his proper position, and where honest toil – and dishonest, too, sometimes – is almost certain to reap a harvest. Far differently will you fare, and far preferable, too, will be your lot, in regions where privation is the rule, to that of many amongst your numerous fellow-travellers, unaccustomed as they are to laborious occupations – with frames uninured to fatigue, and constitutions unhabituated to scanty fare, to exposure to heat and cold, and wet and sudden changes! Whilst you are succeeding in your object, they will grow wearied, disappointed, and home-sick, and long to be back again on the theatre of their former struggles.
"The human stream ceases not to flow from the vessels in the harbor; no sooner is one boat-load disposed of than another arrives, and so on, until the town is gorged with new-comers, who, after a few days' sojourn, to recruit their strength, after the fatigues of a long and irksome voyage, depart, and are seen no more for months; many, perhaps, never to return. Very few of this vast multitude deserve the epithet of poor. To get here at all requires money; and to maintain one's self after getting here, the emigrant must have some little means.
"The majority of the emigrants are men occupying a respectable