Personal Reminiscences of Early Days in California with Other Sketches | Page 3

seeing its most interesting cities,
and returned to the United States in 1849, arriving at New York on the
1st of October of that year.
There was already at that early period a steamer leaving that city once
or twice every month for Chagres. It went crowded every trip. The
impulse which had been started in me by my brother in 1846,
strengthened by the message of President Polk, had now become
irresistible. I joined the throng, and on November 13th, 1849, took
passage on the "Crescent City;" and in about a week's time, in company
with many others, I found myself at the little old Spanish-American
town of Chagres, on the Isthmus of Panama. There we took small boats
and were poled up the river by Indians to Cruces, at which place we
mounted mules and rode over the mountain to Panama. There I found a
crowd of persons in every degree of excitement, waiting for passage to
California. There were thousands of them. Those who came on the
"Crescent City" had engaged passage on the Pacific side also; but such
was the demand among the multitude at Panama for the means of
transportation, that some of the steerage passengers sold their tickets
from that place to San Francisco for $750 apiece and took their chances
of getting on cheaper. These sales, notwithstanding they appeared at the

time to be great bargains, proved, in most cases, to be very unfortunate
transactions; for the poor fellows who thus sold their tickets, besides
losing their time, exposed themselves to the malaria of an unhealthy
coast. There was in fact a good deal of sickness already among those on
the Isthmus, and many deaths afterwards occurred; and among those
who survived there was much suffering before they could get away.
The vessel that conveyed us, and by "us" I mean the passengers of the
"Crescent City," and as many others as could by any possibility procure
passage from Panama to San Francisco was the old steamer
"California." She was about one thousand tons burden; but probably no
ship of two thousand ever carried a greater number of passengers on a
long voyage. When we came to get under way, there did not seem to be
any spare space from stem to stern. There were over twelve hundred
persons on board, as I was informed.[2] Unfortunately many of them
carried with them the seeds of disease. The infection contracted under a
tropical sun, being aggravated by hardships, insufficient food, and the
crowded condition of the steamer, developed as the voyage proceeded.
Panama fever in its worst form broke out; and it was not long before
the main deck was literally covered with the sick. There was a
physician attached to the ship; but unfortunately he was also prostrated.
The condition of things was very sad and painful.
Among the passengers taken sick were two by the name of Gregory
Yale and Stephen Smith; and I turned myself into a nurse and took care
of them. Mr. Yale, a gentleman of high attainments, and who
afterwards occupied a prominent place at the bar of the State, was for a
portion of the time dangerously ill, and I believe that but for my
attentions he would have died. He himself was of this opinion, and
afterwards expressed his appreciation of my attention in every way he
could. In the many years I knew him he never failed to do me a
kindness whenever an opportunity presented. Finally, on the evening of
December 28, 1849, after a passage of twenty-two days from Panama,
we reached San Francisco, and landed between eight and nine o'clock
that night.
[1] The first article was entitled "The Oregon Question," and the
second "The Edinburgh and Foreign Quarterly on the Oregon
Question."
[2] NOTE.--The number of passengers reported to the journals of San

Francisco on the arrival of the steamer was much less than this,
probably to avoid drawing attention to the violation of the statute which
restricted the number.

FIRST EXPERIENCES IN SAN FRANCISCO.
Upon landing from the steamer, my baggage consisted of two trunks,
and I had only the sum of ten dollars in my pocket. I might, perhaps,
have carried one trunk, but I could not manage two; so I was compelled
to pay out seven of my ten dollars to have them taken to a room in an
old adobe building on the west side of what is now known as
Portsmouth Square. This room was about ten feet long by eight feet
wide, and had a bed in it. For its occupation the sum of $35 a week was
charged. Two of my fellow-passengers and myself engaged it. They
took the bed, and I took the floor. I do not think they had much the
advantage on