Book: The Forty Niners

S >> Stewart Edward White >> The Forty Niners



THE FORTY-NINERS

A CHRONICLE OF THE CALIFORNIA TRAIL AND EL DORADO

BY STEWART EDWARD WHITE

1918



CONTENTS

I. SPANISH DAYS
II. THE AMERICAN OCCUPATION
III. LAW--MILITARY AND CIVIL
IV. GOLD
V. ACROSS THE PLAINS
VI. THE MORMONS
VII. THE WAY BY PANAMA
VIII. THE DIGGINGS
IX. THE URBAN FORTY-NINER
X. ORDEAL BY FIRE
XI. THE VIGILANTES OF '51
XII. SAN FRANCISCO IN TRANSITION
XIII. THE STORM GATHERS
XIV. THE STORM BREAKS
XV. THE VIGILANTES OF '56
XVI. THE TRIUMPH OF THE VIGILANTES
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
INDEX






THE FORTY-NINERS





CHAPTER I

SPANISH DAYS


The dominant people of California have been successively aborigines,
_conquistadores_, monks, the dreamy, romantic, unenergetic peoples of
Spain, the roaring melange of Forty-nine, and finally the modern
citizens, who are so distinctive that they bid fair to become a
subspecies of their own. This modern society has, in its evolution,
something unique. To be sure, other countries also have passed through
these same phases. But while the processes have consumed a leisurely
five hundred years or so elsewhere, here they have been subjected to
forced growth.

The tourist traveler is inclined to look upon the crumbling yet
beautiful remains of the old missions, those venerable relics in a
bustling modern land, as he looks upon the enduring remains of old
Rome. Yet there are today many unconsidered New England farmhouses older
than the oldest western mission, and there are men now living who
witnessed the passing of Spanish California.

Though the existence of California had been known for centuries, and the
dates of her first visitors are many hundreds of years old, nevertheless
Spain attempted no actual occupation until she was forced to it by
political necessity. Until that time she had little use for the country.
After early investigations had exploded her dream of more treasure
cities similar to those looted by Cortes and Pizarro, her interest
promptly died.

But in the latter part of the eighteenth century Spain began to awake to
the importance of action. Fortunately ready to her hand was a tried and
tempered weapon. Just as the modern statesmen turn to commercial
penetration, so Spain turned, as always, to religious occupation. She
made use of the missionary spirit and she sent forth her expeditions
ostensibly for the purpose of converting the heathen. The result was the
so-called Sacred Expedition under the leadership of Junipero Serra and
Portola. In the face of incredible hardships and discouragements, these
devoted, if narrow and simple, men succeeded in establishing a string
of missions from San Diego to Sonoma. The energy, self-sacrifice, and
persistence of the members of this expedition furnish inspiring reading
today and show clearly of what the Spanish character at its best is
capable.

For the next thirty years after the founding of the first mission in
1769, the grasp of Spain on California was assured. Men who could do,
suffer, and endure occupied the land. They made their mistakes in
judgment and in methods, but the strong fiber of the pioneer was there.
The original _padres_ were almost without exception zealous, devoted to
poverty, uplifted by a fanatic desire to further their cause. The
original Spanish temporal leaders were in general able, energetic,
courageous, and not afraid of work or fearful of disaster.

At the end of that period, however, things began to suffer a change. The
time of pioneering came to an end, and the new age of material
prosperity began. Evils of various sorts crept in. The pioneer priests
were in some instances replaced by men who thought more of the flesh-pot
than of the altar, and whose treatment of the Indians left very much to
be desired. Squabbles arose between the civil and the religious powers.
Envy of the missions' immense holdings undoubtedly had its influence.
The final result of the struggle could not be avoided, and in the end
the complete secularization of the missions took place, and with this
inevitable change the real influence of these religious outposts came to
an end.

Thus before the advent in California of the American as an American, and
not as a traveler or a naturalized citizen, the mission had disappeared
from the land, and the land was inhabited by a race calling itself the
_gente de razon_, in presumed contradistinction to human beasts with no
reasoning powers. Of this period the lay reader finds such conflicting
accounts that he either is bewildered or else boldly indulges his
prejudices. According to one school of writers--mainly those of modern
fiction--California before the advent of the _gringo_ was a sort of
Arcadian paradise, populated by a people who were polite, generous,
pleasure-loving, high-minded, chivalrous, aristocratic, and above all
things romantic. Only with the coming of the loosely sordid, commercial,
and despicable American did this Arcadia fade to the strains of dying
and pathetic music. According to another school of writers--mainly
authors of personal reminiscences at a time when growing antagonism was
accentuating the difference in ideals--the "greaser" was a dirty, idle,
shiftless, treacherous, tawdry vagabond, dwelling in a disgracefully
primitive house, and backward in every aspect of civilization.

The truth, of course, lies somewhere between the two extremes, but its
exact location is difficult though not impossible to determine. The
influence of environment is sometimes strong, but human nature does not
differ much from age to age. Racial characteristics remain approximately
the same. The Californians were of several distinct classes. The upper
class, which consisted of a very few families, generally included those
who had held office, and whose pride led them to intermarry. Pure blood
was exceedingly rare. Of even the best the majority had Indian blood;
but the slightest mixture of Spanish was a sufficient claim to
gentility. Outside of these "first families," the bulk of the population
came from three sources: the original military adjuncts to the missions,
those brought in as settlers, and convicts imported to support one side
or another in the innumerable political squabbles. These diverse
elements shared one sentiment only--an aversion to work. The feeling
had grown up that in order to maintain the prestige of the soldier in
the eyes of the natives it was highly improper that he should ever do
any labor. The settlers, of whom there were few, had themselves been
induced to immigrate by rather extravagant promises of an easy life. The
convicts were only what was to be expected.

If limitations of space and subject permitted, it would be pleasant to
portray the romantic life of those pastoral days. Arcadian conditions
were then more nearly attained than perhaps at any other time in the
world's history. The picturesque, easy, idle, pleasant, fiery,
aristocratic life has been elsewhere so well depicted that it has taken
on the quality of rosy legend. Nobody did any more work than it pleased
him to do; everybody was well-fed and happy; the women were beautiful
and chaste; the men were bold, fiery, spirited, gracefully idle; life
was a succession of picturesque merrymakings, lovemakings, intrigues,
visits, lavish hospitalities, harmless politics, and revolutions. To be
sure, there were but few signs of progressive spirit. People traveled on
horseback because roads did not exist. They wore silks and diamonds,
lace and satin, but their houses were crude, and conveniences were
simple or entirely lacking. Their very vehicles, with wooden axles and
wheels made of the cross-section of a tree, were such as an East African
savage would be ashamed of. But who cared? And since no one wished
improvements, why worry about them?

Certainly, judged by the standards of a truly progressive race, the
Spanish occupation had many shortcomings. Agriculture was so little
known that at times the country nearly starved. Contemporary travelers
mention this fact with wonder. "There is," says Ryan, "very little land
under cultivation in the vicinity of Monterey. That which strikes the
foreigner most is the utter neglect in which the soil is left and the
indifference with which the most charming sites are regarded. In the
hands of the English and Americans, Monterey would be a beautiful town
adorned with gardens and orchards and surrounded with picturesque walks
and drives. The natives are, unfortunately, too ignorant to appreciate
and too indolent even to attempt such improvement." And Captain Charles
Wilkes asserts that "notwithstanding the immense number of domestic
animals in the country, the Californians were too lazy to make butter or
cheese, and even milk was rare. If there was a little good soap and
leather occasionally found, the people were too indolent to make them in
any quantity. The earth was simply scratched a few inches by a mean and
ill-contrived plow. When the ground had been turned up by repeated
scratching, it was hoed down and the clods broken by dragging over it
huge branches of trees. Threshing was performed by spreading the cut
grain on a spot of hard ground, treading it with cattle, and after
taking off the straw throwing the remainder up in the breeze, much was
lost and what was saved was foul."

General shiftlessness and inertia extended also to those branches
wherein the Californian was supposed to excel. Even in the matter of
cattle and sheep, the stock was very inferior to that brought into the
country by the Americans, and such a thing as crossing stock or
improving the breed of either cattle or horses was never thought of. The
cattle were long-horned, rough-skinned animals, and the beef was tough
and coarse. The sheep, while of Spanish stock, were very far from being
Spanish merino. Their wool was of the poorest quality, entirely unfit
for exportation, and their meat was not a favorite food.

There were practically no manufactures on the whole coast. The
inhabitants depended for all luxuries and necessities on foreign trade,
and in exchange gave hide and tallow from the semi-wild cattle that
roamed the hills. Even this trade was discouraged by heavy import duties
which amounted at times to one hundred per cent of the value. Such
conditions naturally led to extensive smuggling which was connived at by
most officials, high and low, and even by the monks of the missions
themselves.

Although the chief reason for Spanish occupancy was to hold the country,
the provisions for defense were not only inadequate but careless. Thomes
says, in _Land and Sea_, that the fort at Monterey was "armed with four
long brass nine-pounders, the handsomest guns that I ever saw all
covered with scroll work and figures. They were mounted on ruined and
decayed carriages. Two of them were pointed toward the planet Venus, and
the other two were depressed so that had they been loaded or fired the
balls would have startled the people on the other side of the
hemisphere." This condition was typical of those throughout the
so-called armed forts of California.

The picture thus presented is unjustly shaded, of course, for Spanish
California had its ideal, noble, and romantic side. In a final estimate
no one could say where the balance would be struck; but our purpose is
not to strike a final balance. We are here endeavoring to analyze the
reasons why the task of the American conquerors was so easy, and to
explain the facility with which the original population was thrust
aside.

It is a sometimes rather annoying anomaly of human nature that the races
and individuals about whom are woven the most indestructible mantles of
romance are generally those who, from the standpoint of economic
stability or solid moral quality, are the most variable. We staid and
sober citizens are inclined to throw an aura of picturesqueness about
such creatures as the Stuarts, the dissipated Virginian cavaliers, the
happy-go-lucky barren artists of the Latin Quarter, the fiery touchiness
of that so-called chivalry which was one of the least important features
of Southern life, and so on. We staid and sober citizens generally
object strenuously to living in actual contact with the unpunctuality,
unreliability, unreasonableness, shiftlessness, and general
irresponsibility that are the invariable concomitants of this
picturesqueness. At a safe distance we prove less critical. We even go
so far as to regard this unfamiliar life as a mental anodyne or
antidote to the rigid responsibility of our own everyday existence. We
use these historical accounts for moral relaxation, much as some
financiers or statisticians are said to read cheap detective stories for
complete mental relaxation.

But, the Californian's undoubtedly admirable qualities of generosity,
kindheartedness (whenever narrow prejudice or very lofty pride was not
touched), hospitality, and all the rest, proved, in the eyes of a
practical people confronted with a large and practical job, of little
value in view of his predominantly negative qualities. A man with all
the time in the world rarely gets on with a man who has no time at all.
The newcomer had his house to put in order; and it was a very big house.
The American wanted to get things done at once; the Californian could
see no especial reason for doing them at all. Even when his short-lived
enthusiasm happened to be aroused, it was for action tomorrow rather
than today.

For all his amiable qualities, the mainspring of the Californian's
conduct was at bottom the impression he could make upon others. The
magnificence of his apparel and his accoutrement indicated no feeling
for luxury but rather a fondness for display. His pride and
quick-tempered honor were rooted in a desire to stand well in the eyes
of his equals, not in a desire to stand well with himself. In
consequence he had not the builder's fundamental instinct. He made no
effort to supply himself with anything that did not satisfy this amiable
desire. The contradictions of his conduct, therefore, become
comprehensible. We begin to see why he wore silks and satins and why he
neglected what to us are necessities. We see why he could display such
admirable carriage in rough-riding and lassoing grizzlies, and yet
seemed to possess such feeble military efficiency. We comprehend his
generous hospitality coupled with his often narrow and suspicious
cruelty. In fact, all the contrasts of his character and action begin to
be clear. His displacement was natural when confronted by a people who,
whatever their serious faults, had wants and desires that came from
within, who possessed the instinct to create and to hold the things that
would gratify those desires, and who, in the final analysis, began to
care for other men's opinions only after they had satisfied their own
needs and desires.





CHAPTER II

THE AMERICAN OCCUPATION


From the earliest period Spain had discouraged foreign immigration into
California. Her object was neither to attract settlers nor to develop
the country, but to retain political control of it, and to make of it a
possible asylum for her own people. Fifty years after the founding of
the first mission at San Diego, California had only thirteen inhabitants
of foreign birth. Most of these had become naturalized citizens, and so
were in name Spanish. Of these but three were American!

Subsequent to 1822, however, the number of foreign residents rapidly
increased. These people were mainly of substantial character, possessing
a real interest in the country and an intention of permanent settlement.
Most of them became naturalized, married Spanish women, acquired
property, and became trusted citizens. In marked contrast to their
neighbors, they invariably displayed the greatest energy and
enterprise. They were generally liked by the natives, and such men as
Hartnell, Richardson, David Spence, Nicholas Den, and many others, lived
lives and left reputations to be envied.

Between 1830 and 1840, however, Americans of a different type began to
present themselves. Southwest of the Missouri River the ancient town of
Santa Fe attracted trappers and traders of all nations and from all
parts of the great West. There they met to exchange their wares and to
organize new expeditions into the remote territories. Some of them
naturally found their way across the western mountains into California.
One of the most notable was James Pattie, whose personal narrative is
well worth reading. These men were bold, hardy, rough, energetic, with
little patience for the refinements of life--in fact, diametrically
opposed in character to the easy-going inhabitants of California.
Contempt on the one side and distrust on the other were inevitable. The
trappers and traders, together with the deserters from whalers and other
ships, banded together in small communities of the rough type familiar
to any observer of our frontier communities. They looked down upon and
despised the "greasers," who in turn did everything in their power to
harass them by political and other means.

At first isolated parties, such as those of Jedediah Smith, the Patties,
and some others, had been imprisoned or banished eastward over the
Rockies. The pressure of increasing numbers, combined with the rather
idle carelessness into which all California-Spanish regulations seemed
at length to fall, later nullified this drastic policy. Notorious among
these men was one Isaac Graham, an American trapper, who had become
weary of wandering and had settled near Natividad. There he established
a small distillery, and in consequence drew about him all the rough and
idle characters of the country. Some were trappers, some sailors; a few
were Mexicans and renegade Indians. Over all of these Graham obtained an
absolute control. They were most of them of a belligerent nature and
expert shots, accustomed to taking care of themselves in the wilds. This
little band, though it consisted of only thirty-nine members, was
therefore considered formidable.

A rumor that these people were plotting an uprising for the purpose of
overturning the government aroused Governor Alvarado to action. It is
probable that the rumors in question were merely the reports of
boastful drunken vaporings and would better have been ignored. However,
at this time Alvarado, recently arisen to power through the usual
revolutionary tactics, felt himself not entirely secure in his new
position. He needed some distraction, and he therefore seized upon the
rumor of Graham's uprising as a means of solidifying his influence--an
expedient not unknown to modern rulers. He therefore ordered the prefect
Castro to arrest the party. This was done by surprise. Graham and his
companions were taken from their beds, placed upon a ship at Monterey,
and exiled to San Blas, to be eventually delivered to the Mexican
authorities. There they were held in prison for some months, but being
at last released through the efforts of an American lawyer, most of them
returned to California rather better off than before their arrest. It is
typical of the vacillating Californian policy of the day that, on their
return, Graham and his riflemen were at once made use of by one of the
revolutionary parties as a reinforcement to their military power!

By 1840 the foreign population had by these rather desultory methods
been increased to a few over four hundred souls. The majority could not
be described as welcome guests. They had rarely come into the country
with the deliberate intention of settling but rather as a traveler's
chance. In November, 1841, however, two parties of quite a different
character arrived. They were the first true immigrants into California,
and their advent is significant as marking the beginning of the end of
the old order. One of these parties entered by the Salt Lake Trail, and
was the forerunner of the many pioneers over that great central route.
The other came by Santa Fe, over the trail that had by now become so
well marked that they hardly suffered even inconvenience on their
journey. The first party arrived at Monte Diablo in the north, the other
at San Gabriel Mission in the south. Many brought their families with
them, and they came with the evident intention of settling in
California.

The arrival of these two parties presented to the Mexican Government a
problem that required immediate solution. Already in anticipation of
such an event it had been provided that nobody who had not obtained a
legal passport should be permitted to remain in the country; and that
even old settlers, unless naturalized, should be required to depart
unless they procured official permission to remain. Naturally none of
the new arrivals had received notice of this law, and they were in
consequence unprovided with the proper passports. Legally they should
have been forced at once to turn about and return by the way they came.
Actually it would have been inhuman, if not impossible, to have forced
them at that season of the year to attempt the mountains. General
Vallejo, always broad-minded in his policies, used discretion in the
matter and provided those in his district with temporary permits to
remain. He required only a bond signed by other Americans who had been
longer in the country.

Alvarado and Vallejo at once notified the Mexican Government of the
arrival of these strangers, and both expressed fear that other and
larger parties would follow. These fears were very soon realized.
Succeeding expeditions settled in the State with the evident intention
of remaining. No serious effort was made by the California authorities
to keep them out. From time to time, to be sure, formal objection was
raised and regulations were passed. However, as a matter of plain
practicability, it was manifestly impossible to prevent parties from
starting across the plains, or to inform the people living in the
Eastern States of the regulations adopted by California. It must be
remembered that communication at that time was extraordinarily slow and
broken. It would have been cruel and unwarranted to drive away those who
had already arrived. And even were such a course to be contemplated, a
garrison would have been necessary at every mountain pass on the East
and North, and at every crossing of the Colorado River, as well as at
every port along the coast. The government in California had not men
sufficient to handle its own few antique guns in its few coastwise
forts, let alone a surplus for the purpose just described. And to cap
all, provided the garrisons had been available and could have been
placed, it would have been physically impossible to have supplied them
with provisions for even a single month.

Truth to tell, the newcomers of this last class were not personally
objectionable to the Californians. The Spanish considered them no
different from those of their own blood. Had it not been for an
uneasiness lest the enterprise of the American settlers should in time
overcome Californian interests, had it not been for repeated orders from
Mexico itself, and had it not been for reports that ten thousand Mormons
had recently left Illinois for California, it is doubtful if much
attention would have been paid to the first immigrants.

Westward migration at this time was given an added impetus by the Oregon
question. The status of Oregon had long been in doubt. Both England and
the United States were inclined to claim priority of occupation. The
boundary between Canada and the United States had not yet been decided
upon between the two countries. Though they had agreed upon the
compromise of joint occupation of the disputed land, this arrangement
did not meet with public approval. The land-hungry took a particular
interest in the question and joined their voices with those of men
actuated by more patriotic motives. In public meetings which were held
throughout the country this joint occupation convention was explained
and discussed, and its abrogation was demanded. These meetings helped to
form the patriotic desire. Senator Tappan once said that thirty thousand
settlers with their thirty thousand rifles in the valley of the Columbia
would quickly settle all questions of title to the country. This saying
was adopted as the slogan for a campaign in the West. It had the same
inspiring effect as the later famous "54-40 or fight." People were
aroused as in the olden times they had been aroused to the crusades. It
became a form of mental contagion to talk of, and finally to accomplish,
the journey to the Northwest. Though no accurate records were kept, it
is estimated that in 1843 over 800 people crossed to Willamette Valley.
By 1845 this immigration had increased to fully 3000 within the year.

Because of these conditions the Oregon Trail had become a national
highway. Starting at Independence, which is a suburb of the present
Kansas City, it set out over the rolling prairie. At that time the wide
plains were bright with wild flowers and teeming with game. Elk,
antelope, wild turkeys, buffalo, deer, and a great variety of smaller
creatures supplied sport and food in plenty. Wood and water were in
every ravine; the abundant grass was sufficient to maintain the swarming
hordes of wild animals and to give rich pasture to horses and oxen. The
journey across these prairies, while long and hard, could rarely have
been tedious. Tremendous thunderstorms succeeded the sultry heat of the
West, an occasional cyclone added excitement; the cattle were apt to
stampede senselessly; and, while the Indian had not yet developed the
hostility that later made a journey across the plains so dangerous,
nevertheless the possibilities of theft were always near enough at hand
to keep the traveler alert and interested. Then there was the sandy
country of the Platte River with its buffalo--buffalo by the hundreds of
thousands, as far as the eye could reach--a marvelous sight: and beyond
that again the Rockies, by way of Fort Laramie and South Pass.

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.