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Coming of the Argonauts
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San
Francisco, 1849
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It was on the 28th of February that
this modern Argo steamed past the rugged cliffs of the Golden Gate into
the warm sunshine of a
California
spring, past the green slopes of Marin and the purple heights of Tamalpais,
past the islands of the bay and the Alta Loma, and cast anchor before a
most disreputable collection of adobe houses, wooden shacks, and tents --
the outpost of this new Colchis -- with its background of wind swept
dunes, bleak and desolate. The weary Argonauts were joyfully welcomed. The
ships in the harbor donned their gayest bunting; the guns of the Pacific
squadron boomed while the yards of the war ships were manned with blue
jackets. The rains of winter had driven the miners to cover and the town
was full. Gold dust was plenty and the gambling houses ran day and night.
The people were rough and uncouth but they gave the new comers a hearty
welcome and celebrated with ardor the establishment of steam communication
with the world.
There was nothing lofty in the motive
that brought this band of adventurers to these shores and nothing
particularly remarkable about the men who composed it. They were strong,
courageous, undaunted. They came to make a fortune and return; they
remained to create an empire. It was the part the Argonauts played in
founding and building a great commonwealth on the Pacific coast that gives
significance to their coming. Among this first band were De Witt Clinton
Thompson, who commanded a
California
regiment in the war of the Rebellion, John Bigelow, first mayor of
Sacramento,
Rev. O. C. Wheeler, who erected the first Baptist church, Rev. S. W.
Willey, founder of the State University, Pacificus Ord, judge and member
of constitutional convention, Wm. Van Voorhies, first secretary of State,
Rodman M. Price, member of constitutional convention, later governor of
New Jersey, William Pratt, surveyor general of
California,
Eugene L. Sullivan, collector of the port, Lloyd Brooke, one of the
founders of Portland, Oregon, Alexander Austin, Asa Porter, Samuel F.
Blaisdell, Henry F. Williams, Richard W. Heath, Robert B. Ord, William P.
Walters, Edwin L. Morgan, Malachi Fallon, B. F. Butterfield, A. M. Van
Nostrand, Charles M. Radcliff, Samuel Woodbury, Isaac B. Pine, and Oscar
J. Backus. Alfred Robinson, who had been appointed agent of the Pacific
Mail, also returned on the
California,
and Major General Persifer F. Smith and staff were on board. Hardly had
the ship come to anchor when her crew deserted, only one engineer
remaining faithful to his obligations.
When the California
sailed away from Panama she left behind a multitude of emigrants, all
disappointed, some filled with rage, some with despair. A few sailing
vessels were chartered to carry the adventurers to
California
and it is said that a few tried in log canoes to follow the coast only to
perish or be driven back after futile struggles with winds and currents.
The Oregon, second steamer of the Pacific Mail, arrived at Panama about
the middle of March. The crowd had doubled. The Oregon took on about five
hundred, and reached San
Francisco April 1st. Profiting by the
experience of the
California,
the captain took the precaution to anchor his ship under the guns of a
man-of-war, and placed the most rebellious of his crew under arrest. With
barely enough coal to carry him to San Blas he sailed April 12th, carrying
back the first mail, treasure, and passengers. On the 1st of May, the
California
having obtained a crew sailed for Panama. The Panama, third steamer of the
Pacific Mail, arrived at San
Francisco June 4th, sixteen days from
Panama. The Oregon brought John H. Redington, Dr. McMullan, John McComb,
Stephen Franklin, Ferdinand Vassault, George K. Fitch, A. J. McCabe, S. H.
Brodie, John M. Birdsell, Joseph Tobin, and many others well known in
California,
while on board the Panama were Wm. M. Gwin, first United States senator
from
California,
John B. Weller, boundary commissioner, D. D. Porter, Major W. H. Emory, of
the boundary survey. Lieut. Colonel Joseph Hooker, Major McKinstry, T.
Butler King, agent of the United States to
California,
Hall McAllister, Lieut. George H. Derby ("John Phoenix"), John V. Plume,
P. A. Morse, Lafayette Maynard, H. B. Livingston, Alfred De Witt, Andrew
G. Gray, surveyor of the boundary commission.
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Ships now began to arrive from all
parts of the world, crowded with treasure seekers, and by the middle of
November upwards of six hundred vessels had entered the harbor and the
larger part of these were left swinging at their anchors while their crews
rushed to the gold mines. Colonel Mason advises the adjutant general of
the arrival of a ship at Monterey loaded with ordinance stores and says
that it will cost more to unload the ship than the total freight from New
York to Monterey.
The sufferings of the emigrants who
came by sea, great as they were, were as nothing compared with those who
came by land. Not since the crusades of the Middle Ages, has there been
anything approaching the overland emigration in magnitude, peril, and
endurance. It is estimated that during the year 1849, forty-two thousand
emigrants came overland to
California,
of whom nine thousand were from Mexico. Eight thousand Americans came by
the Santa Fé Route and twenty-five thousand by the South pass and the
Humboldt river. The horrors of the Camino del Diablo have been portrayed
in a previous chapter. Bayard Taylor writes: "The emigrants we took on
board at San Diego were objects of general interest. The stories of
adventures by the way sounded more marvelous than anything I had heard or
read since my boyish acquaintance with Robinson Crusoe, Captain Cook, and
John Ledyard. * * * The emigrants by the Gila route gave a terrible
account of the crossing of the great desert lying west of the Colorado.
They describe this region as scorching and sterile -- a country of burning
salt plains and shifting hills of sand, whose only signs of human
visitation are the bones of animals and men scattered along the trails
that cross it. The corpses of several emigrants, out of companies who
passed before them, lay half buried in sand, and the hot air was made
stifling by the effluvia that rose from the dry carcasses of hundreds of
mules. There, if a man faltered, he was gone; no one could stop to lend
him a hand without a likelihood of sharing his fate."
The rendezvous for overland emigrants was
usually
Independence,
Missouri for both the
Oregon
and
Santa Fe
Trails.
Throughout the eastern states the winter of 1848-49 was one of
preparation. Emigration parties were formed in almost every town, each
member contributing a fixed amount for outfit. These were as elaborate as
the taste of the members suggested or their means permitted. Provisions
for the journey and for one or two years in
California,
with every known implement for digging and washing gold, arms, ammunition,
large supplies of clothing, blankets, etc., and in some cases, goods for
barter or sale, characterized the equipment of the emigration of 1849.
Vehicles of every conceivable kind and quality were seen, from the
ponderous "prairie schooner" drawn by three yoke of oxen, to the light
spring wagon; riding horses and pack mules; together with relays of
animals for heavy hauls. Arriving at the rendezvous the small parties were
joined in a large party together with such individuals and families as
came in singly, a captain was selected and the caravan set out on its two
thousand mile journey. The northern route was by the so-called
Oregon Trail, up the north fork of the Platte to the Sweetwater, up the
Sweetwater, through the South pass, to the Green River, down the Bear to
Soda Springs, to Fort Hall on the Snake River, to the Humboldt, down the
Humboldt to the sink, across the desert to the Truckee River, over the
Sierra Nevada to the head waters of the Bear River, thence down the river
to the
Sacramento
and to
Sutter's Fort.
From the sink of the Humboldt, three routes offered themselves: northerly
to the Pitt River pass; west, across the desert to the Truckee, and
southerly to Carson valley, where grass and water was, and thence over the
sierra to the south fork of the American River. It is estimated that by
the end of April 1849, twenty thousand emigrants were in camp on the
Missouri waiting for the grass on the plains to be high enough to feed.
Many companies had started earlier and by the middle of May the trail from
the Missouri River to Fort
Laramie presented a continuous line of wagons
and pack trains. Through the valley of the Platte the cholera broke out,
claiming many victims and spreading terror through the ranks of the
emigrants. This began to disappear as they approached the Rocky mountains.
At last, after some days of travel through a rugged and broken country
where high bluffs force them from the river to make long detours, Fort
Laramie is reached and the first stage of the journey is completed. For
the next three hundred miles the country is a desert, with little grass
and less water, through the forbidding Black hills, up the Sweetwater,
across the continental divide by the South pass, at an elevation of seven
thousand and eighty-five feet; thence through a somewhat better country,
the Green river valley, to Bear river, which here flows northward, making
a horseshoe around the mountains. Down the Bear they travel for a distance
of about ninety miles to Soda Springs. Here the Bear turns southward and
the emigrants proceed westerly to the Portneuf River down which they
travel to Fort Hall, on the Snake River. The route is now down the Snake
to Raft River, thence over the hills to Goose creek and up Goose creek to
the head waters of the Mary, or Humboldt, as the river now began to be
called. This was the regular route. There were a number of short cuts
which saved the travelers from one to two hundred miles of distance, but
cost them weeks of extra time to get through; short cuts which were all
right for pack-trains, but all wrong for wagons. On reaching the Humboldt
the traveler has two-thirds of the whole distance behind him and is on the
last stage of his journey. And what a journey it has been, and how changed
he is from the one who set out so blithely from Independence three months
ago. How bright the anticipations then! how cozy the snug family retreat
within the great canvas-covered "prairie schooner!" how jolly the
conversation and the stories around the camp fire! the song and music
after the day's toil was over.
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The long weary journey, the dreadful monotony of the endless plains, the
barren desert, the bleak and almost impassable mountains, the heat and
dust, the scorching sun and the drenching rains, the sickness and
suffering, and the deaths that have thinned his party, have long since
dulled his spirits and left in place of the joyous buoyancy of the start,
a sullen, dogged determination to push forward. The faint-hearted
abandoned him at the Platte, at Laramie, and at Salt Lake; the weak died;
and before him now was the greatest trial of the journey, the greatest
test of strength. Many were yet to fail, to die of starvation, of cholera,
of scurvy, and some, who had passed through so much of hardship and
suffering, were to die by their own hands as they approached the fatal
desert and saw in the distance the lofty barrier of the Sierra Nevada.
Continued Next Page
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Albert Bierstadt's
Oregon Trail,
1869, at Joslyn
Art Museum, Omaha,
Nebraska
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