Early days in California : an autobiography written for my grandchildren.

August 15, 1922

Charles R. Stetson

 

Going to California...


The California discovery of gold by Marshall at Coloma --- in 48 started a rush and excitement called the California Gold Fever, and thousands from all lands rushed to the new El Dorado. In 1851 my father decided to try his fortune and closed out his little farming business and started for the new land. In 1852 my oldest brother, James, who had just completed his trade of tinsmith caught the fever and joined our father in the mines. In the fall of 1852, I was left to care for our little farm of from eight to ten acres, and to assist my mother in caring for the family, which then consisted of my brother Riley, a younger brother, John, about five years of age, and two sisters, Sarah and Angeline. Sarah was then about thirteen years of age and Angeline about ten years older.


In 1853 I had thought much of going to California and talked it over with my cousin Julius and we decided if we could in any way raise the means we would also join the gold seekers. Up to this time I had not informed my mother and, as I expected strong opposition from her, I delayed it until I could see a chance to make my way without drawing on our home finances. In the meantime Julius had talked it over with his father and he had reluctantly consented to his going, provided he could have the proper companion, and he, knowing our great friendship, decided if I would go he would consent to Julius going. Then came the earnest and most delicate part, to get my mothers consent. So after arranging with Julius and his father that he would advance me one hundred and fifty dollars on my own note, unsecured, I took up the subject with mother, and after telling her my plan to sell the horse, cow, hay, lease the little farm, and put in a good supply of wood, she, to my surprise, consented, but I could see the tears beginning to flow. She said "promise me one thing, that you will urge your father to return just as soon as he can without great loss. It is hard for me to let you go, but I believe it will result in our all going out there, or all being united here again." So we went to work in earnest, getting things arranged. I gave my personal note for the one hundred and Fifty dollars and we prepared to start on the early steamer from New York, the Star of the West, the historic ship which tried to relieve Fort Sumner at the beginning of the Civil War.


At this time I was seventeen years of age and my cousin was sixteen years old. We had prepared our water proof bags, in which we packed the little necessary articles of underclothes and a cake my mother had baked and sealed in a tin box for the absent ones in California.I remember the morning I left I had to pass up a slight grade, where the road took a turn that obscured the view of my childhood home. So after kissing and saying the usual good byes, I started for the depot, where Julius and I had arranged to meet, and as I got the turn in the road, I turned to take a last look at the old home, and there on the front steps stood mother and sisters waving a last good-bye. I brushed aside a tear and braced myself for whatever the future should have in store. We reached New York the following morning, where we remained three days until the steamer was ready to sail, via Greytown


The voyage down to Graytown was without incident, other than sea sickness, the sight of Eastern Cuba, and flying fish. At Greytown, we boarded small river boats for Castello Rapids, where we were delayed for a few hours, awaiting the arrival of the boat to cross Lake Nicaragua to Virgin Bay. We spent the time visiting the old castle, erected by the early Spanish settlers as a defense. We found the Rapids were artificially made to aid in its defense, and that the castle was held by a few half-naked Nicaragua soldiers, very untidy, and with old discarded flint-lock muskets, which did not impress us as a very formidable defense. Soon the whistle blew and all boarded the steamer San Carlos. We soon entered the lake and commenced to journey across the lake and arrived at Virgin Bay the next morning. We landed from surf boats, it being very rough. After landing, it was all bustle and hurry to get mules to ride the twelve miles that intervened between Virgin Bay and the Pacific or San Juan del Sur. The seven hundred passengers were strung out over the distance of twelve miles and did not all arrive at San Juan until the following day, where we found we must delay for two days, as our steamer The Brother Jonathan had not yet arrived. The steamer Pacific was substituted and it took that time to get in stores and prepare for the voyage. We passed two volcanoes which could be seen from the steamer deck as we crossed the lake. Just before we sailed, the Jonathan arrived loaded with returning miners. They informed us that the mines were practically worked out and advised us to return, as it was foolish to continue on, but I think few, if any, heeded the advice.


After getting under way, it was discovered that a greater part of the water was unfit for drinking purposes, and we were put on a limited amount . The Captain announced he would put into the Port of Acapulco to replenish his supplies, which he did, but gave notice to any going ashore to return at once, upon the blowing of the steamers whistle, as he did not propose to delay any longer than to replenish his stores. We, that is Julius and myself, had seated ourselves by the railing, where we were watching the Mexican boys dive for pennies and small coins, and almost always they would come up with the coin after staying under water an incredible time. We were also interested in seeing the sailors hoist beef cattle on board by a rope attached back of their horns, and then through a pulley attached to the yard arm, as well as hoisting hogsheads of water the same way and drawing the rope through a block attached to the deck, where fifty to one hundred men would take hold of the rope and running back on the deck, the cattle or water would quickly rise and be stored where desired. We had talked the matter over and had decided we would not go ashore, but a sudden thought of the poor fare we had so far endured, led us to decide to go ashore and purchase some oranges and a little Mexican cakes to help out poor rations for the rest of the journey. So, going aft, we hired a boat and immediately pushed off from the stern and just at that instant they were hoisting a hogshead of water which caught under the hurricane deck. The mast and yards broke off at the cross-trees and the barrel crashing down, broke through the deck, where a moment before we were sitting, throwing some of the passengers into the bay, fatally injuring one, and wounding several. We were almost stunned at the suddenness, and we wondered what power prompted us to go ashore just at that moment, for we had up to that time no intention of doing so. There seems to be a power or force that determines our actions and our fate. Some think it is a kind Providence that guides us. I cannot doubt but that it is He, who from the beginning to the end, directs our lives and our fate, and one whom we poor mortals can only wonder about and adore. After a short run to the shore, we made a few purchases of food and returned to the steamer and were soon on our way again, without top mast or yards, depending wholly on steam for our motor power.

At that time, there was great rivalry between Nicaragua Route and the Pacific Mail Route, via Panama, and shortly after leaving Acapulco we sighted the Pacific Mail Steamer John L. Stephens and now came the race to see which would reach San Francisco first. I noticed the smoke stack of our ship was red hot, fully half its length, night after night, until we arrived at our destination. There was only a few hours difference in our arrival. It was a very exciting trip while it lasted. On the passage up, groups of passengers would gather and tell what they expected to do on arriving, and it seems queer to recall what crude ideas were entertained, until experience changed the point of view. I recollect one in particular, an Irishman, who told of a countryman of his, who had written to his home in New York that he was making eight dollars a day in the mines, and he said if he can earn eight dollars a day I can double it, as I could always do twice as much work in a day as he. Another passenger thought that to get large lumps was easier than fine gold and should look for them instead of the finer sort. No doubt both discovered their theories were not sound in practice.


After looking over San Francisco from Broadway to Market Streets and the water front from Davis to Montgomery, we took passage in the steamer Helan Henshlyî for Stockton, which left Broadway wharf at 4 p.m. The streets of San Francisco at that time were in a most wretched condition. Davis Street then was wholly piled and the planks were full of holes and dangerous to travel upon. Montgomery Street was only partially paved and mud was everywhere. The side walks were made of loose planks, resting on old tobacco boxes, and anything that would serve to hold the planks above the mud. Our steamer reached Stockton the following morning and the crowd of stage runners was bedlam broken loose; All aboard for Mariposa, Sonora, Angel's Camp, San Andras, Mokolukne Hill, was enough to scare the wits out of two green New England lads, but we finally, after much pulling and hauling, got our seats and baggage aboard the Sonora stage, and were off on the last lap of our journey to the land of gold. We were much interested in our ride across the plains, in the bands of coyotes and occasional gray wolf. Then we arrived at Knights Ferry at noon where we were permitted to take dinner, but had hardly gotten fairly started, when we head the command, All Aboard. But there was at the table, a man who knew all the tricks of travel, who said Boys keep your seats and finish your dinner; the stage dare not leave us. So acting on his advice, we filled up and in due time boarded our stage and were off for Sonora, where we arrived after dark and took lodging for the night at the United States Hotel on Washington Street. The hotel was a very primitive affair. The beds or bunks were one above the other like bunks on emigrant ships. There were no sheets but rough gray blankets. The following morning we took our baggage on our backs for Shaw's Flat, two miles distant, and by inquiry were directed to my fathers and brothers cabin. It was a Sunday morning and being in ignorance of our coming they had not yet gotten up. So knocking at the door, I heard my fathers voice say who's there? We answered, We're here from home. You may be sure the cabin door soon swung open and the hearty welcome we received was indeed a joy to us.


And now began my life in California, which I shall try to relate, as my memory can recall it after sixty-nine years. It can readily be imagined that the change from a quiet New England town to a bustling mining camp was a transition that few boys of today can fully comprehend. Among the strange sights were miners camping in the open stem log cabins and in tents. Nearly all roofs were canvas. Cooking utensils were very limited, in many cases consisting of a fry pan and tin plate. Wash the face and hands in the fry pan, then fry the bacon in it, then make the coffee in it, and also bake the bread, was actually done in many cases.