Chapter 5 of 6 · 3973 words · ~20 min read

Part 5

_December 29._--To-day we reached Fort Davis. The officers’ quarters, with good oak wood fires, looked more comfortable than our camping on ground; but, for fear of catching cold by the change, I preferred to continue sleeping out of doors.--(See journal of August 12 for my interview with Col. Sewall.)

_December 30._--Met an extra of ours going up to Birchville--coach, mules, and complete outfit to take their place in the line. Gave orders for the conductor to take the newspaper mail from Fort Davis, which had been left behind by the last up mail in consequence of the snow at Birchville. He would meet another coach and send it forward to El Paso.

_January 3._--We reached Fort Lancaster at 7 a. m., changed our mail, and started again at 11 a. m. It commenced snowing as we left Fort Lancaster, and continued to snow so rapidly that I deemed it prudent to stop about 3 o’clock p. m. We halted in a cañon 9 miles from the fort, on the edge of the Llano Estacado. It was not safe to attempt to cross this bleak plain in the face of a snow storm, with the road obliterated by the snows. We might have lost our way, or our mules might have perished from being chilled through by standing exposed, after heating themselves in the exertion of hauling the coach. I therefore made a halt and camped for the night. We then drove the mules into a cañon, where they would be partially sheltered from the wind and storm by bushes, made a fire, cooked our dinner, set the guard, and then went to bed, with the snow falling at intervals all night long.

_January 4._--A fine morning, with the sun bright and pleasant, the ground covered with snow to the depth of several inches, rendering it almost impossible to roll our coach to-day. The snow would have clung to the hoofs of our mules and to the tire of our coach so as to render our progress very slow. Under these circumstances I deemed it best to send the mail forward on mules in charge of one of the two hired men, accompanied by a passenger equally familiar with the road, who very kindly volunteered to accompany the mail and rider. They each took a riding mule, also a third mule packed with the mail, provisions, and a few small articles. These animals they were to change at Fort Clarke, with yet another change, if possible, at Dharris. (They made the trip to San Antonio in good order and in time, delivering the mail at 6 a. m. the morning of the 9th.) This morning, after the mail was gone, I sent our mules back to Fort Lancaster with directions to have them well fed with grain, returning them to our camp by night with an additional supply of grain and provisions if the snow melted so that we could proceed. In the course of the afternoon, the weather looking threatening, I sent one of my clerks, who volunteered to go on foot, to the quartermaster with a request that he would send out a team of mules and haul us back to the fort; this request he promptly acceded to, and we reached there about 10 o’clock at night. Having despatched the mail, there was now no cause for our immediate haste; I, therefore, determined to recruit my animals at Fort Lancaster before continuing our journey. With this view I remained there for three days.

_January 7._--This morning we left Fort Lancaster the second time. We had for company a party under escort to Fort Hudson. This evening we met the mail coach which left San Antonio December 24. It had been detained several days by high water in the Medina river at Castroville, being afterwards caught in the same snow storm that had delayed our coach; like us they were compelled to lie by and wait a day or two for the snow to disappear. As they had but commenced their journey to Birchville, they could not send their mail forward on pack animals as we did. Again, as the up mail contains newspapers it is much heavier than the down mail.

Nothing of special interest occurred on the road to San Antonio differing from the usual routine which I have sketched from day to day. I staid at Fort Hudson and at Fort Clarke long enough to attend to the business of the line at each of those posts. I did this in the absence of any one to take my place, though I was yet in doubt as to my own position.

_January 17._--Reached San Antonio to-night.

_January 18._--Received to-day a revocation of my authority from Mrs. Birch, the revocation dated the 26th of last October; I ceased at once to act for the line and prepared to come north, giving the new local agent every information the limited time permitted.

_January 19._--I left for Washington.

The question is frequently asked as to whether we have a well defined road all the way from San Antonio to San Diego. To this I answer that it is as plain a road as any stage route over which a mail is carried in coaches for your department. An emigrant would find it as impossible to miss his way when once on our road either going to or returning from California, as he would if traveling in a country where guide posts marked every cross-road.

An examination of my table of distances will show four military posts between San Antonio and Birchville; from Birchville to La Mesilla we have a settled country all the way; from La Mesilla to Tucson, we have not at present any military posts, but I am informed that the War Department contemplates placing two forts in this portion of Arizona, immediately on the completion of the Fort Yuma and El Paso wagon road. In the whole distance of 460 miles from Tucson to San Diego, one hundred and fifteen miles is the longest distance at present between any of our mail stations.

An emigrant passing over our route will meet or be overtaken by a mail party four times every month, while from our mail conductors he can always obtain the reliable information as to road, wood, water, grass, camping places, with directions where to find safe valleys in which to feed his stock for a few weeks, and transmit messages, letters, or any desired intelligence from friends before or behind him. I have received many expressions of satisfaction from emigrants I met on the road, and, also, from others in California, who, last season, on the trip, realized, in a small way, the advantages of the mail, in these respects to overland emigration.

When camping, after a drive of about ten miles, we unharness in the middle of the road, and from one end of our route to the other, from San Antonio to San Diego, the road can almost be measured by the ashes of our camp fires.

From Fort Hudson, in Texas, to Tazotal, on the Gila, a distance of 1,200 miles, nearly the whole of our route is over an elevated, dry country. When but a small amount of labor was requisite at first to make a road suited to staging, only a portion of this has ever had any labor bestowed on it beyond that of passing trains. From San Antonio to El Paso, a distance of 651 miles, the road was opened in the year 1849, by a government train of several hundred wagons, _en route_ to El Paso; since that time, the continual passage of government and freighting trains, as also of the Santa Fé and San Antonio mail coaches, had beaten down an excellent road, before the labors of the El Paso and Fort Yuma wagon road expedition commenced.

That portion of our route situated between El Paso and the Pimos villages has never had even a government train to open it. Col. Leach’s labors will be of great service in straitening it, finding new watering places, enlarging others, and in constructing tanks, if the appropriation will admit of such an expenditure. A consultation of the items of my own journey, where I have put down each day’s advance, will tend to show the excellent condition of our roads, for we used a coach all the way from San Antonio to San Diego, sometimes drawn by six, never by less than four mules.

There are a number of formidable looking ranges of mountains upon all the maps, running across Arizona, north and south, which look to be barriers almost impassable without a great expenditure of time and money. Our road we found to be _through_, rather than _over_, these mountains; although they appeared formidable at a distance, yet, on approaching, they generally proved to be isolated buttes, with our road winding around them by easy grades through the valleys, or else passing over some low span or saddle, no way impeding staging. These passes in the mountains seemed to be formed by nature on purpose for a road. The speed our coaches are making through these mountain ranges is the best evidence of their easy and expeditious passage. By my journal of August 25, it will be noticed that the speed we made from Cook’s spring, through the Sierra Madre mountains to and beyond the Mimbres river, was 21 miles in five hours; through all the other mountain passes we made much the same rate of speed.

Having formed my ideas of mountains and mountain roads from a pretty extensive experience among the Sierra Nevada of California, was very forcibly struck by the fact of not meeting a regular chain of mountains all the way from San Antonio until I reached the coast range of California, eighty miles from San Diego. I wish to call particular attention to the distinction between ranges of mountains like the Alleghanies and Sierra Nevada, and the system of isolated buttes scattered over portions of our line and around which we pass by valley roads well adapted to speed. The mountains south of the Gila, and its immediate neighborhood, do not interfere with our road; they come up close to the river in many places, but leave an ample passage way for our road around the bases. These mountains are mostly what the Mexicans term _Mesas_; high hills, flat on their tops. It appears as if the plain had formerly been level with the tops of the hills, some hundreds of feet higher than it is now. This same appearance of Mesas is found along the Pecos.

On the 15th of November, looking northward from our station at the Maricopa Wells, I could plainly see that the high mountains to the north of the Gila, standing in a bold relief against the sky, were covered at their summits with a cap of snow, glistening in the pleasant sun of the valley, where we were. Abundance of rain had fallen throughout the Gila valley this season, but no cold weather had come as yet; we naturally concluded that the rain of the valley was snow on the tops of the mountains. In the day time we found it so pleasant that bathing was our constant practice, though the nights were cool and damp from heavy dews. I am informed that all or most of these valleys north of the Gila have a rich soil, capable of sustaining a large population. I trust, on some future trip, to be able to explore them, as they are situated within what is likely to become a portion of the new Territory of Arizona, through the whole length of which our line passes. It was among some of the valleys to which I refer, that John R. Bartlett, esq., found evidences of a race of men long since extinct, who must have been superior to the present Indians of the country.

At present we have no good road directly over the coast range of mountains from Lassator’s ranch to Vallecito on the desert, but the enterprise of the people of San Diego will secure us one at an early day. When I came over the mountains on my way east, there was a large working party of Indians, under Mr. Lassator, diligently using the means which had been subscribed in the county for a road over the mountains.

Wood, water, and grass, are the emigrant’s necessities in crossing our continent. Over our route we have enough of these for all purposes of staging or emigration. Through the country over which we pass, though there is enough water for emigration and staging, yet there is but one river not usually fordable; I refer to the Colorado of the West. This is a great deal in its favor as a stage road. If it were a heavy timbered country, it would not be likely to be so well grassed, as it would be sure to have large rivers troublesome to cross, and need an immense labor cutting down timber to open a road. As to grass, it is wonderfully provided all the way to our Maricopa station. Wood is generally scarce on our route. From San Antonio to San Felipe creek, a distance of one hundred and fifty miles, there is an abundance of wooded country; post oaks and mezquit flats are quite numerous. Along Devil’s river, for a distance of twenty miles, there is plenty of wood.

At Forts Lancaster and Davis, oak wood is hauled from a distance of seven miles to supply the military posts. Along the Rio Grande universally the fuel is the root of the mezquit tree, a sort of underground forest; it burns with as hot a fire as hickory wood, and makes superior charcoal. Cotton-wood is used along the Rio Grande valley, being the fuel used in some places. We found wood scarce all the way from the Rio Grande to the Maricopas; from thence to Fort Yuma along the Gila abundant; then it is scarce over the desert; at the watering places, however, enough can be found in spots not remote from the wells; once among the San Diego mountains there is wood enough. Over these portions of our road where we find no wood at the springs or watering holes, and for want of time cannot wander off among the mountain gulches to look for it, we secure enough for all purposes of cooking from the great abundance of roots generally found just cropping out of the ground; these make an excellent fire.

An examination of my table of distances will show no want of water along the route; all my measurements are to and from well known watering places. From San Antonio our road is extremely well watered until we reach the head of the San Pedro or Devil’s river, a distance of 218 miles; going west thence, we have a jornada of forty-four miles; thence another of thirty miles, between permanent roads, on to the Pecos. In the rainy season there are plenty of places in this distance where the water stands in natural tanks in the rocks, or in cañons. This stretch of forty-four miles is the longest we have on the road between permanent water stations; it forms however no great obstacle to staging. We haul water for ourselves in kegs, and the mules, having to go about twelve to sixteen hours without it, do not suffer in consequence. We have no scarcity of water in Arizona for our present purposes.--(See schedule of distances.) Our watering places on the desert west of Fort Yuma are by no means far apart, but the supply is limited at all times. It will be a matter of absolute necessity to enlarge them before the overland emigration of this spring reaches the desert. The improvement of those now used, as well as the digging of others, will be very easily accomplished.

I am of opinion that the chances of procuring water by boring artesian wells on the elevated table lands, over which our road runs, may be considered as very limited. At any rate, as a practical mode of procuring water for us, it will not do. Supposing Captain Pope should demonstrate the feasibility of boring these artesian wells, even then private individuals cannot afford to make them, neither can they wait for government to do so. We should be compelled, in staging across the continent at a rate of speed necessitating the erection of stations, to adopt the old Mexican method of building tanks wherever the natural formation of the country admits of it which it does in numerous places along our road.

As for grass, the country through which our road runs is unequalled as a grazing country, in the opinion of practiced men acquainted with the subject. I have heard farmers pronounce the gramma and mezquit grass nearly equal to clover. There is a peculiarity of the grass of this section which adapts it most admirably to our purpose; when appearing dried up and dead, it contains life and nutriment; an examination will show this on plucking it. When the rains come, instead of our having to wait wholly for new grass to spring up, we find the old dried grass renewing its life, becoming green again, until in a few days the country is covered with an excellent crop of grass, as good as if it had been growing many weeks.

Many of the finest ranches or grazing farms in the State of Sonora were once located in what is now called Arizona; the buildings are at present deserted; the inhabitants have fled from the Apaches, who stole their cattle, as far as possible destroyed the buildings, and murdered or carried into captivity the inhabitants.

The section of the country along the Gila river is commonly pronounced by emigrants the worst portion of the whole southern road across our continent; but even along this river, though it is not superabundantly supplied with grazing lands, no one need let their animals suffer for the want of food. Travellers must take some care in examining to the right and left of the road. To those who have just been passing over the finest grazing lands in the world, where a range of a few hundred yards would suffice for their teams anywhere along the road, the Gila naturally seems a desert. As a fair illustration of the grazing in Arizona, I would state that an overheated horse or mule will actually founder on the rich gramma grass as he would on clover. On nearly all the hills found along the Gila river spots of gramma and quinta or bunch grass are scattered in places. Young willows also grow along the river banks, which are good food for animals. A weed much liked by them and very nutritious is found in many places along the bottoms. Mules are also fond of the fallen leaves of the mezquit tree. By crossing the river and making a little exploration, spots of good grazing can be found on the north side of the Gila. Lastly, there is in the season an abundant supply of excellent food for animals in the mezquit beans which are found on our road along the Gila, from Tezotal to Fort Yuma. These beans fall from the tree as soon as ripe; animals will leave their corn to eat them, as I have proved.

The Indians make a kind of flour from these beans by roasting and then pounding them; they contain a large portion of saccharine matter, so much so that the Pimos manufacture from them a species of syrup. They commence falling in August; we found a great many under the trees in November, after the emigration had passed down the river.

On my return trip from San Diego I brought my mules into our Maricopa station in a much better condition than when I left Fort Yuma with them. My practice was this: while one of my two teams of mules was working in the coaches for a couple of hours at a walk, I would have the other team under charge of an experienced man, either ahead or behind the coaches, eating their fill of grass, beans, or whatever they could find. At the end of two hours we would change teams, giving the other set of mules their chance for loitering behind to eat.

Sometimes emigrants who are going to California pasture their cattle on the bottom lands of the Colorado river for a few weeks before attempting to cross the desert; others again put on at once, in order to reach as soon as possible the excellent grazing on the coast range. We keep a mulada at Fort Yuma for our changes, which we send out every day to feed in the river bottom, under charge of a Mexican herder, bringing them in at night for safety.

In crossing the Colorado desert of ninety-five miles from Fort Yuma to Carissa there is but little for animals to eat. In some few places arroyos make up to the northward, containing mezquit trees full of beans, but these are limited in number, while they are not situated at the watering places.

In the mountains near Carissa, or at Vallecito, good grazing commences again. I am assured by men familiar with this section of country that good hay can be cut on the mountain sides, a few miles south of the present desert, and hauled on to the line of our road at a fair price. Mezquit beans can also be procured sufficiently near the road to be sold to travellers at reasonable rates. One advantage of our road is, that any emigrant who may be _en route_ to California can now leave his stock in Arizona to recruit, while he takes passage for San Diego or along the road to explore for himself the country over which he intends to pass.

The country we stage over is a grazing and mineral country, rather than an agricultural one, though I found no lack of grain along the road. In seasons of rain an abundance of grain is raised all the way from San Antonio to Fort Clarke; from there to Birchville there are no settlements, and the grain has to be hauled from either end to the military posts between these two points; along the Rio Grande the whole country is capable of cultivation. Wheat, corn, beans, pumpkins, and onions of very superior flavor are all raised in great abundance by the Spanish population.

Flour of an excellent quality is made at a mill on the Rio Grande, a couple of miles above El Paso; it is owned and managed by Simeon Hart, esq., who is the contractor for supplying with flour all the forts in that section of the country.

In many places along the Rio Grande our road lies through cornfields miles in length. At Tucson we found no difficulty in purchasing corn and barley for our mules; flour from wheat grown in the Santa Cruz valley, and ground at Tucson by the Mexicans; also beans and onions.

At Maricopa station we bought, of the Indians, flour, beans, peas, green and dried pumpkins, chickens, eggs, corn, and wheat. At Fort Yuma every thing has to be imported. There is a considerable importation there of flour, pinola, pounded parched corn, jerked beef, and sugar, called pinoche, all of which comes on pack animals from Sonora; no doubt a large trade will spring up from this when Colorado City becomes of consequence. Nearly everything is now brought from San Francisco by way of the Gulf of California and steamer up the Colorado river.

Arizona ought to be supplied through Guyamas, a Mexican port on the Gulf of California.