CALIFORNIA.

FOUR MONTHS AMONG THE GOLD-FINDERS,
BEING THE DIARY OF AN EXPEDITION FROM
SAN FRANCISCO TO THE GOLD DISTRICTS.

By

J. TYRWHITT BROOKS, M.D.

PREFACE.

The accompanying diary—some interesting circumstances connected with which will be found in a letter given at the end of the present volume—was sent home by the Author merely for the entertainment of the members of his own family and a few private friends. It has been submitted to the public in the hope that, as an authentic record of a variety of interesting particulars connected with the original discovery and present condition of the Gold Districts of California, it will not fail to prove acceptable.

London, 1849.

CHAPTER I.

• Clearing the Faranolles
• Making the entrance to the Bay of San Francisco
• The passage through the Strait
• Appearance of the Bay
• Town of San Francisco
• The anchor is let go
• The Author goes on shore
• His bad luck
• Sweeting's Hotel
• The Author and Mr. Malcolm propose visiting the American settlements
• They become acquainted with Captain Fulsom and Mr. Bradley
• Object of the Author's visit to California
• Mr. McPhail leaves for Sonoma
• The Houses of San Francisco, and their inhabitants
• Native California
• Senoritas and cigarettos.

... I felt heartily glad to hear that we were then clearing the Faranolles, and soon hurried up on deck, but we continued beating about for several hours before we made the entrance to the Bay of San Francisco. At length, however, we worked our way in between the two high bluffs, and along a strait a couple of miles wide and nearly five miles long, flanked on either side with bold broken hills—passing on our right hand the ricketty-looking fortifications erected by the Spaniards for the defence of the passage, but over which the Yankee stars and stripes were now floating. On leaving the strait we found ourselves on a broad sheet of rippling water looking like a great inland lake, hemmed in on all sides by lofty hills on which innumerable herds of cattle and horses were grazing, with green islands and clusters of rock rising up here and there, and a little fleet of ships riding at anchor. On our right was the town of San Francisco.

I had suffered so much from the voyage, that when the anchor was let go I felt no inclination to hurry on shore. McPhail and Malcolm, however, went off, but promised to return to the ship that night. I soon after turned into my hammock, and, thanks to the stillness of the water in which we rode, slept soundly till morning.

April 29th.—This morning we all rose early, and went on shore. The little baggage we had we took in the boat. Malcolm told me that he had heard the war was over between the United States and Mexico, and I bitterly congratulated myself on experiencing my usual run of bad luck. We made our way to Sweeting's hotel, which Malcolm and McPhail had visited yesterday, and stated to be the best of the three hotels which have sprung up here since the Americans became masters of the place.

Malcolm intends making an excursion to the interior. He proposes to visit the American settlements, and to satisfy himself as to the reputed advantages which California presents as an agricultural country. I have agreed to accompany him. We have fallen in with two very pleasant American gentlemen at our hotel to-day—one, a Captain Fulsom, holding some appointment under Government here; the other, a young friend of his named Bradley. We had some conversation together on the subject of the Mexican war, in the course of which I learnt that Mr. Bradley has been a resident in California for the last eight years, and that he was one of the officers of the volunteer corps attached to the army of the United States, while military operations were going on in this country. I told him of my desire to enter as a surgeon in the service of the States, and he promised to speak to Captain Fulsom on the subject, and obtain from him a letter to Colonel Mason, the new governor; but he is afraid there is little chance of my meeting with success, as nearly all the volunteer corps have been, or are about to be, disbanded. Both Mr. Bradley and Captain Fulsom speak very favourably of the climate and soil of California, and say that an enterprising agriculturist is sure to make a speedy fortune. Mr. Bradley, who has agreed to accompany us on our trip, strongly advises Malcolm to shift his quarters from Oregon, and settle here, saying that he is sure my friend will do so when he has once seen the farms in the Sacramento valley, whither we are to start early next week. McPhail left us to-day, to make a trip to Sonoma.

San Francisco, although as yet but a poor place, will no doubt become a great emporium of commerce. The population may be about a couple of thousands; of these two-thirds are Americans. The houses, with the exception of some few wooden ones which have been shipped over here by the Americans, are nearly all built of unburnt bricks. The appearance of the native Californian is quite Spanish. The men wear high steeple-like hats, jackets of gaudy colours, and breeches of velvet, generally cotton. They are a handsome swarthy race. The best part in the faces of the women are their eyes, which are black and very lustrous. The Californian belles, I am sorry to say, spoil their teeth by smoking cigarettos.

CHAPTER II.

• Start for Monterey
• Horse equipments in California
• The advantages of them
• Rifles and Ruffians
• Californian Scenery
• Immense herds of cattle
• Mission of Santa Clara
• Pueblo of San José
• A Californian farm-house
• What it is like inside and out
• Prolific crops of wheat
• Saddle-sickness
• The journey is resumed
• Mission of San José
• Arrival at Monterey
• The Author's visit to Colonel Mason
• Surgeons not wanted in California
• Rumours of gold being found on the Sacramento
• Characteristics of Monterey
• Don Luis Palo and his sisters
• What all Californian dinners consist of
• The party return to San Francisco.

Monterey.—May 4th.—Started off early on the morning of the 2nd on our journey to Monterey. We found our horses in readiness in the hotel yard, in charge of a servant (here called a vaquero) of Mr. Bradley's. The latter, having business to transact at Monterey, accompanied us. My horse was equipped after the Spanish fashion, with the usual high-pommelled cumbrous saddle, with a great show of useless trappings, and clumsy wooden stirrups, and for a long time I found the riding sufficiently disagreeable, though, doubtless, far more pleasant than a coast journey would have been, with a repetition of the deadly sea-sickness from which I had already suffered so much. I soon found out, too, the advantages of the Spanish saddle, as enabling one to keep one's seat when travelling over thorough broken country through which our road ran. Bradley had told us to have our rifles in readiness, as no one travels any distance here without that very necessary protection, the mountains near the coast being infested with lawless gangs of ruffians, who lie in wait for solitary travellers.

The first part of our ride lay through a dense thicket of underwood, and afterwards across parched up valleys, and over low sandy hills; then past large grazing grounds—where cattle might be counted by the thousand—and numerous ranchos or farms, the white farm buildings, surrounded by little garden patches, scattered over