CHAPTER XII.

About seven weeks from the time of our arrival in San Francisco, we found ourselves on board one of the river steamers bound to Marysville. I parted with regret from Mrs. B----. We had lived, and laughed, and suffered together _so_ long, it was hard to separate. We met once afterwards, for she travelled many weary miles to visit me. Little Nelly, too--how I loved that child! I can see her now, in imagination, with her sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks, tugging along a handful of burnt wood for “mother to cook with.” Those were hard days for Nelly and Mrs. B----. Since then, Mr. B---- has amassed a splendid fortune. I wonder if Nelly will ever forget those days in which she was sent out gleaning sticks of wood and pieces of burnt boards, with which to make the kettle boil.

The upper division of the bay of San Francisco is called the Suisun. Situated upon the strait connecting the two divisions, is the town of Benicia, on the north, and the pleasant little hamlet of Martinez, on the south side. How sunny and pleasant looked the valleys bordering on the bay! the luxuriant growth of wild oats therein affording excellent pasturage for the numerous herds of wild cattle roaming over the country. Soon we found ourselves entering the noble Sacramento. The river, at intervals, is fringed with timber, chiefly oak, sycamore, and willows. Grape-vines, and a variety of shrubbery, ornament its banks. The quiet, peaceful stillness which pervades all nature, as you are ascending this stream, has an ineffable charm, a sort of fascination, to the beholder. The boat stopped a short time at Sacramento city. How very low and flat the town appeared, in point of locality, compared with San Francisco,--not a single hill to relieve the eye! It presented one feature peculiar to all California towns at that day--a great deal of canvas pre-eminently conspicuous, in the shape of buildings, with signs attached, competing, in point of size, with the buildings which they graced.

In some places the river is nearly half a mile in width. It makes some very graceful bends. The land bordering on this magnificent stream is very low, and subject to inundations, which is a serious impediment to the advancement of agriculture, to which the soil is admirably adapted. Three years afterwards, when sailing down this majestic stream, I witnessed with delight many spots of this riverside wilderness, made to “blossom as the rose” by the indomitable energy and unconquerable enterprise, in opposition to every discouragement, of the successful pioneers. I often wished, as some spot lovelier than another met the eye, that it had been my lot to have found a home in just such a sunny spot, far away from the noisy strife of the busy, bustling world. But I must not tarry too long on thy bosom, noble Sacramento, but leave thy allurements and beauties to be chronicled by some abler pen than mine, and hasten up stream to the point where Feather River, one of the largest tributaries of the Sacramento, unites her limpid waters with those of her sister river.

With the name of Feather River the early Anglo-Californian associates the commingled sentiments of many a pleasure and pain. The rich tributes of gold which rewarded his toil could not compensate for the saddened yearnings of the heart. All that he loved on earth were far away from him; his condition was hazardous in the extreme; no friend, perhaps, was near with a solace; and, but for the inspiriting unction of a constantly indulged hope, even the _future_ would have been desolate and dreary.

The steamer turns her prow to the right, and is gracefully cutting her way through the waters of Feather River. I kept constantly upon deck to inhale the balmy air, and to look out upon the lively and ever-changing landscape. Sometimes the trees would crowd the bank to the very brink; some gracefully bending to kiss the water; some rearing their stately heads high above, but stretching their wide arms over its margin; all faithfully mirrored far down in its glassy depth, though sometimes the reflections were partially obliterated, and sometimes, for a moment, the _whole_ was shivered into trembling fragments by the transient breeze that swept the surface too roughly, and the widely extended ripple from the wake of the steamer.

There were on board several distinguished persons, who proposed a visit to Capt. Sutter’s ranch. This delightful residence is situated on the left bank of Feather River, as you are proceeding up stream. Visitors of distinction are landed at the foot of his garden. The steamer runs in close proximity to the bank fronting his dwelling. They usually give him a salute after landing visitors. Sometimes an answering salute is given from a mounted cannon standing in the centre of his garden. Near to it is erected a tall flag-staff. The dwelling-house is constructed of adobe brick, representing the Dutch style of architecture. It is completely embowered with shrubbery, and creeping, flowering vines. A more definite description of the grounds adjoining will be given hereafter, when I shall have visited the place, and from personal observation endeavor to interest the reader by delineating the beauties surrounding this lovely retreat of the noble-hearted old general. Captain Sutter, or, rather, General Sutter, as he is now titled, is a native of Switzerland, and was at one time an officer in the French army.

He emigrated to the United States, and was naturalized. From thence, after a series of romantic incidents, he located himself in California, in the midst of numerous and hostile tribes of Indians. With a small party of men, which he originally brought with him, he succeeded in defending himself until he erected his fort. Several times, when besieged by hostile foes, he has subsisted upon grass alone for many days.

The land bordering upon Feather River is more elevated than that bordering upon the Sacramento. Soon, far ahead, is discernible the dividing line in the water, where the muddy waters of the Yuba River mingle with the deep, blue, translucent current of Feather River.

The banks of the Yuba, at its junction with Feather River, are romantic in the extreme. There is a thick growth of trees bestudding the banks, and dipping gracefully into the stream; the branches of the taller uniting overhead, and forming a leafy canopy, almost entirely excluding the rays of the sun from the smoothly gliding current. The beautiful weeping-willows fringing the margin, the creeping vines twining their tendrils around the trunks of the trees, and the variety of shrubbery, give it a decidedly tenebrious appearance, and keep the eye of the traveller, who gazes from the deck of some one of the numerous steamers plying the stream, constantly occupied in tracing the variety of features which this and similar views are constantly presenting.

A short distance above the cove-shaped entrance to the Yuba River, and at the head of steamboat navigation, is situated the town of Marysville. At the time I first saw it, the sun was just gilding the tops of the little canvas stores surrounding the plaza. This little square seemed literally swarming with people, who had gathered around the landing. Some had resorted thither from motives of idle curiosity, to gaze at the people as they stepped ashore, hoping, perhaps, to recognize the form and features of some friend from their far-off homes. Others were drawn to the spot in the hope of acquiring accessions to their already well-filled hotels. The draymen, too, were on the spot, ready to take your baggage anywhere and everywhere. Their importunities were as unceasing as those of our hackmen at city depots and steamboat wharfs. Their style of conveyance was rather more primitive than comfortable. However, I was seated upon my trunk on a dray, ready to be drawn to any one of the first-class houses, which were enumerated as follows: the United States, Oriental, Tremont, St. Charles, etc. My husband decided that we should go the United States, and thither we were accordingly taken.

I was perfectly delighted with the appearance of this little inland city. Every little collection of canvas stores and dwellings in California were denominated cities. Marysville, at that time, boasted of several large frame buildings, among which were the above-mentioned hotels. It was ranked the third city in regard to size and improvements in Upper California.

It is useless to attempt to convey to the minds of any, except those who were pioneers to California, the unique appearance of those little bustling, business localities, in convenient proximity to mining districts. Such trains of pack-mules as were constantly departing (so heavily laden, I pitied the poor beasts from my heart) on their long and tedious journeys to far-distant mining regions. There, too, is seen the swarthy Mexican vaquero, mounted on his fleet Californian steed, galloping through the street, “all booted and spurred;” and oh, what spurs!--enough to make one cringe when they see them driven so mercilessly into the reeking sides of the poor beast. Then the mule and horse auctions at the corners of the streets, drawing together a motley-looking set of fellows, rough and uncouth in appearance, but possessing, nevertheless, noble hearts, ready hands, and, I have no doubt, well-filled purses, with which to assist a fellow-sufferer. I lived long enough in California to learn from experience never to judge a person by his apparel. The coarsest garb often covered the warmest hearts; the most sun-burned, heavily-bearded physiognomy often concealed the most intellectual features; for all classes had flocked indiscriminately to the gold regions of California.

On the night of our arrival, there was a travelling theatre to open for the first time in Marysville; and a mounted horseman was galloping through the streets, announcing, at the top of his voice, the programme of the evening’s performance. After supper, being somewhat fatigued from the journey up river, I retired, but not to sleep. Such a din and confusion as was kept up in the street! A bowling alley and gambling house on the opposite side of the way each contributed their share to the babel-like confusion, that seemed to reign triumphant. Our room was situated in the front part of the building, the only access to which was from the balcony; and the only way of admitting any air into the room was by leaving open the door, which served the double purpose of window and door. Sometime in the night, we were aroused by some person moving about the room. I was terribly frightened, thinking, of course, it was some robber or assassin. My husband accosted the intruder with “Halloa! what do you want here?” The reply was, “I am coming to bed! what business have _you_ in my bed? Come, vamos!” and, in the mean time, he was making preparations to strike a light. Said my husband, “There is a lady here; _we_ occupy this room. Now leave instanter, or I will assist you.” He started to the door, muttering, “I will see the landlord about this; if there was not a lady here, I would see who the room belonged to.” As soon as he left, my husband shut and locked the door, and we were left unmolested, to smother until morning.

It seemed, upon inquiry, that our room had been previously occupied by two brothers. Upon our arrival, the house being crowded, and one of the brothers absent for a few days, the landlord had proposed to the remaining one to resign his double bed for a single one, in order to accommodate us. The absent brother returned late in the night, and the bar-keeper, through negligence or ignorance, omitted to inform him of the change; and thereby I was frightened half out of my wits at this midnight intrusion.

Ladies were very scarce in Marysville; at this time there were not more than half a dozen, at the most, who were deserving of the appellation. Comparatively speaking, there were no children. I had lived there more than a year before the merry voice of childhood gladdened my ears. There were no churches, no school-houses. All were intent upon the one great object that had lured them so far from their native land. There were assembled representatives from every clime and country on the face of the globe. The European, the Asiatic, the African, the Anglo-Saxon, the Sandwich-Islander, all, whose general interests and pursuits were so varied, had here convened for one and the same purpose--to get gold. No law was acknowledged except Lynch law; and the penalty for offences, so summarily enforced by the vigilance committees, served admirably to keep in check the murderous, villanous propensities of too many of the refugees from justice from all parts of the world. Alas! many of them had found a shelter in the almost inaccessible fastnesses of the mountains, remote from the regular settlements, and beyond the reach of organized vigilance committees. In the solitary recesses of the Sierra Nevada were little clusters of men, with nothing but the trees, and perhaps a little canvas tent, for shelter, and _no_ protection but their own strength and vigilance, possessed of large amounts of gold, where there was no eye to see, and no agent to pursue, the guilty. It was not strange, where the temptation was so great, that robbers and assassins were ever ready to pounce upon the unwary.

Board at the United States Hotel at that time was four dollars per diem for the single person; therefore, with our limited means, we could remain here but a short time. The Tremont Hotel had been recently erected, and I learned the proprietors would like to find an American lady to superintend the domestic department. I presented myself, and obtained the situation. I was to receive one hundred and twenty-five dollars per month. In the interim, my husband was looking about, undetermined what business to engage in. We stopped at the Tremont five weeks, at the expiration of which time, my husband rented the Atlantic Hotel, and thither we removed. This was in July. The heat was intense, the thermometer ranging from 90 to 110 deg., not only day after day, but week after week. How I watched in vain for a cloud in the horizon! but not one appeared for months, to mitigate the scorching fervency of the heat.

While stopping at the Tremont, I witnessed what to me was a novel sight; and if, kind reader, you will pardon the digression, I will endeavor to relate, in a manner which I hope will interest, the method of taming a wild horse. The first I saw was an unusual collection of people, and in their midst a horse blindfolded, with a Mexican vaquero in the act of mounting. When once seated on the back of these wild, fleet animals of the plains, it is next to an impossibility to unhorse them. From the nature of their pursuits and amusements, they have brought horsemanship to a degree of perfection challenging admiration, and exciting astonishment. All things being in readiness, the blinder was removed. The horse, for the first time in his life feeling the weight of man upon his back, with distended nostrils, eyes glaring like orbs of fire, and appearing to protrude from their sockets, gave a succession of fierce snorts, performed sundry evolutions which would have puzzled the master of a gymnasium to have imitated, and then dashed off at a furious rate, seemingly determined to free himself from his captor, or die in the attempt. It was an exciting and cruel sport to witness. The reeking sides of the poor beast were covered with foam and blood, which had been drawn by driving those merciless spurs into the flesh. Both horse and rider would disappear for a few moments in some distant part of the town, then reappear again, dashing madly on. Finally, the horse, in passing the Tremont Hotel, which was all thrown open in front to admit air, sprang, quick as a flash, upon the piazza, and dashed madly into the bar-room. In making his ingress so suddenly, the Mexican’s head had been forcibly struck against the top of the door, and he fell stunned to the floor. The inmates of the bar-room, numbering about twenty, fled in every direction. The bar-keeper, a very corpulent person, made his egress through a small back window--_so_ small, that, upon ordinary occasions, he would never have had the presumption to attempt it, as it was actually endangering his life by so suddenly thrusting his portly figure through so small an aperture; but now, out of two evils, he was constrained to choose the least. The horse, finding himself in undisputed possession of the room, stood for an instant surveying himself in an extensive mirror suspended behind the long marble slab. Then, prompted by an irresistible desire to become better acquainted with the image reflected in the glass, or possessing the principles of teetotalism to such an extent that he was bent upon immediate annihilation, he dashed furiously at the bar, upsetting it, and dashing the splendid mirror into a thousand pieces, demolishing the elegant cut-glass decanters, while the contents ran profusely upon the floor. He also dashed to pieces several large arm-chairs, valued at twelve dollars apiece. Then he passed through a side-door into a large saloon, traversed that without doing any material damage; and, when in the act of leaving the house, the Mexican, who had, in the meantime, recovered his senses and his feet also, sprang with surprising agility upon his back, and the race for freedom again commenced; but this time not of long duration. The horse, reduced almost to prostration, yielded to the superior power of man, and was taken, more dead than alive, to a stable, rubbed down, placed in a stall, fed, and petted; and, from the hour in which he unwillingly relinquished a life of freedom, never more to roam with a wild herd over broad plains and flowery vales, he was a gentle, submissive slave. The wild horse is gracefully formed, with flowing tail and mane; but I never saw one very fat--they race their flesh off. The man who owned the horse readily paid the expenses of refitting the bar-room. The amount of property he destroyed was at that time estimated at a thousand dollars.