Both of these tremors were slight, and neither did much mischief. But the one that occurred four days previous to our arrival came very near laying the whole city in ruins. The custom house, churches, stores, and nearly all the principal buildings were cracked so badly that many of them were considered dangerous. The people were engaged in pulling down some entirely, and repairing others as best they could. The ground was terribly rent in many places; and while on a stroll beyond the limits of the city, I saw one crevasse which was about five inches in width, and so long and so deep that I could find neither end nor bottom to it. We remained in Valparaiso till the afternoon of Saturday, but did not feel any other shock. For myself, I was satisfied with what I saw then, and having been since shaken by them two or three times during my sojourn in California, I hope I shall never feel another.

As for the city itself, we saw nothing that was really beautiful about it. The majority of the residences were built of mud and straw, and covered with tiles; and were, I think, upon the whole, rather inferior to the negro huts upon a southern plantation. The immense sterile hills all round, about, and through the city, presented quite a dreary and desolate appearance, and prevented us from seeing more than half the number of its buildings at the same time. One of the merchants, a New Orleans man, informed me that the population was estimated at from 60,000 to 65,000. Speaking of this merchant reminds me of a remarkable instance of stupidity which came under my observation one morning while visiting his store. He had just received fifty barrels of pork, which the drayman had left before his door, and which he wished to have stowed in his cellar. His regular porter being sick, he hired two doltish countrymen to perform the job. It was stipulated that they should receive a certain sum of money for removing the pork from the street into the cellar; and the bargain being fairly understood on both sides, they began to fulfil their part of the contract, by lifting the barrels instead of rolling them. We allowed them to pursue this toilsome system of labor until they had finished about one fifth of their task, when we interposed and explained to them the easier method of accomplishing it. It is a fact, according to their own confession, that they had not sense enough to avail themselves of the rotundity of the barrels.

Valparaiso surpasses San Francisco in the abruptness of its surface and the barrenness of its soil. There is no plant within sight of the town, except here and there in the little vales and hollows. The inhabitants have to bring all their supplies from beyond the coast range, a distance of nine or ten miles; and as the hills are so large and so steep that they cannot be traversed with vehicles, every thing must be transported upon the backs of mules. The interior of Chili is represented to be a very beautiful and productive country; and, to use the language of her historian, “all the fruits of the earth grow there in the greatest abundance.” Towards noon that day, we chartered some donkeys and rode out about two miles, to a garden called the Vale of Paradise, in the upper part of the city. This was one of the most charming spots I ever beheld, and, with the exception of two or three other little places like it, the only level and fertile piece of ground we saw during the whole time we were there. Here, on the 9th of April, we got apples, pears, peaches, pomegranates, pine apples, quinces, oranges, lemons, figs, bananas, mangoes and melons, to our hearts’ content.

On Thursday, having wandered from my comrades, I began to perambulate the streets alone, determined to see and learn as much of the city as practicable. At last I found I had wandered very nearly to its northern outskirts, when I came to a little winding path, which I followed up till it led me to the opened gate of a beautiful, palisaded inclosure. Upon looking in I observed a long, clean, level walk in the midst of the most delectable garden I ever saw. All the way overhead, from one end of the walk to the other, there were large, luscious clusters of grapes, hanging down in the richest profusion; while on either side there seemed to be an actual rivalry in growth and luxuriance between the various fruits and vegetables. About half way up the walk, in a well shaded place, two middle-aged men, dressed in long robes, and with books in their hands, were sitting on a bench, reading. Still I continued to stand at the gate, admiring the fascinating scenery before me, being seen by nobody, and seeing no one myself, except the two gownsmen, whose attention seemed to be wholly absorbed by their books. To go in I feared would not only be an interruption to the quietude and serenity which pervaded those elysian grounds, but also an intrusion upon the privacy of gentlemen whom I had no right to disturb. However, hoping to frame a reasonable excuse by offering to purchase some fruit, I stepped in, and slowly approaching the literary group, inquired, “Do you speak English?” Scarcely had the words fallen from my tongue, when the one who sat farthest from me arose, and having replied in the affirmative, extended his hand towards me in a very cordial manner, and then asked me a long question in Latin, not a word of which I understood except the termination, which was “St. Patrick?” Manifesting by my looks, as well as I could, my ignorance of his ecclesiastical salutation, interrogation, or whatever it was, he immediately dropped his classical lore, and conversed with me freely in English—both of us, in the meantime, promenading up and down the lovely arbor. From him I learned that the adjoining buildings were occupied as a Roman Catholic college, and that this garden was exclusively for the use and benefit of the priests, of whom he was one, as well as a professor in the institution. He informed me that it was the largest and most popular college in Chili, and that they had students from nearly all the republics and provinces of the continent. He himself was a native of Belgium, but had emigrated to South America as a missionary some fifteen years prior to the time I saw him. The book he then held in his hand was a Spanish history of the United States; and as he asked me a great many questions concerning our country, I inferred that he felt a good deal of interest in it. Upon the whole, he appeared to be a very kindhearted and well-disposed man. Just before leaving, he presented me with a mammoth bunch of delicious grapes, and at parting, gave my hand a courteous and sincere shake.

At this place we parted with the wrecked crew we had picked up five weeks before, leaving them in the hands of the Russian consul. But before bidding a final adieu to the captain, we purchased a gold ring and inclosed it in a sympathizing epistle to his wife, condoling with her in her husband’s misfortunes. When we committed the letter and little keepsake to his charge, he seemed to be very much affected, and acknowledged himself under a thousand obligations to us.

Little occurred on our passage from Valparaiso to San Francisco worthy of note, except the myriads of fish of various kinds which we saw between the tropics, the sublime sunrises and sunsets, the enchanting moonlight evenings, and the phosphorescent phenomena of the ocean at night. The Pacific far surpasses the Atlantic in beauty and diversity of ocean scenery. Its gentle gales and placid waves inexpressibly charm the heart of the sailor. Almost every species of fish, from the tiny pilchard to the monstrous whale may be found in its waters; while countless numbers of aquatic birds, from the diminutive petrel to the ponderous albatross, swim lazily upon its bosom.

Six days after leaving Valparaiso we passed within a short distance of the St. Felix Islands, which rise alone out of the world of water. We could see nothing that had life in it about them, nor any thing that was inviting or pleasing to the eye. On the morning of the 5th May, we again crossed the equator, in longitude 114°.

This voyage afforded us an excellent opportunity for reading; but it may well be supposed that, in traveling seventeen thousand miles upon the water, we were sometimes overcome with ennui. As a refuge from this monotony of “life on the ocean wave,” we betook ourselves to games of euchre, whist, chess, backgammon and solitaire. Our ship being very large, perfectly new, beautifully and comfortably finished, and furnished with the very best accommodations, eatables and drinkables, we enjoyed ourselves remarkably well, except while sea-sick, or when dashed and beaten about by ill-bred storms and hurricanes. As there were only six passengers besides myself, we had abundance of room; and being together so long, and secluded from all other society, we became as sociable and familiar as if we had all been members of the same household. A very amiable and estimable young lady, the sister of a passenger, and the only female on board, contributed in an eminent degree to the pleasure of the trip.

We arrived in San Francisco on the 25th of May, having made the passage in one hundred and thirteen days from New York. This was a very quick run, considering the misfortunes we met with off the Bermudas. If we had not been dismasted, we would probably have reached our destination twelve or fifteen days earlier. The Flying Cloud, clipper-modeled, and built almost exactly like the Stag Hound, ran from New York to San Francisco in eighty-nine days, which is the shortest voyage that has yet been made by a sailing vessel between the two ports. Many of the old-fashioned ships crawl along for seven or eight months: and I know one blunt, tub-like carac which consumed three hundred and seventy days in the passage.

CHAPTER XV.

VOYAGE FROM CALIFORNIA VIA NICARAGUA.

About six hundred homeward-bound passengers, myself included, left San Francisco on the 16th of March, in the splendid steamship Cortes, under command of Captain Cropper. It being our intention to reach the Caribbean sea by the Nicaragua route, we bent our course towards San Juan del Sur. Wind and wave both favored our movements, and we made rapid progress. Stray thoughts occupied my mind as my eyes rested for the last time upon the barren hills of California. There I had witnessed many strange sights and incidents. Should I ever see them again? Was it probable that I would stop to renew my acquaintance with them while on my way to Japan and China in 1875, by the great Atlantic and Pacific railway? My mind, however, was occupied but a little while in the consideration of these matters. There was before me a country which engendered a brighter train of thoughts than that which I was leaving behind. I began to think of greeting the good old folks at home; of joining long-parted hands, and of roaming over the glades and glens which first supported my tottering steps.

Our gallant ship continued to glide bravely on towards the place of her destination. Neither accident nor rough weather happened to us, and we should have enjoyed ourselves finely if there had not been so many persons on board. The crowd was too large for a pleasure party at sea. There were too many months to feed, too many berths to adjust, and too many complaints to be heard. Somebody was always in the way of somebody else. We were too much pent up. There was an abundance of room all around us, above and below us; but it was not adapted to our purposes. The Cortez was our only foothold; and it was necessary that we should cling to her as the only means of reaching terra firma.

But I imagine those of us who had state-rooms on the cabin-deck would not have felt any disposition to murmur, if we had known how much better we fared than the other passengers. Only about one hundred and fifty enjoyed this advantage; all the others were huddled together in the steerage. Is it reasonable to suppose that any considerable number of these four hundred and fifty persons would have engaged such uncomfortable and unwholesome passage, if they could have done better? No. They could scarcely have been hired to pass through the torrid zone in the steerage, if they had possessed money enough to pay for a cabin-passage. It is a well-known fact that the steamers bring a much larger number of steerage passengers from California than they take there. The majority of those that go to California take passage in the cabin; but more than two-thirds of those who return occupy the steerage. As a matter of course, there was no communication between the cabin and steerage passengers; at least those in the steerage were not allowed to come abaft the ship; but I do not think our privileges were circumscribed in this respect, for I went forward of the bulkhead several times, as did many others who belonged in the cabin, and the officers said nothing to us.

There was quite a medley of characters in the cabin. Bishop Soule, of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, may be placed at the head. He is a stout, fine-looking old gentleman, about seventy years of age; and I sincerely believe he was the best man aboard the vessel. He had been stirring up the sinners in California for some time, and was now returning to his home in Georgia. Next came the Rev. Dr. Boring and three or four other clergymen, one of whom had formerly been a missionary in Brazil. The Secretary of Utah Territory, a downright jolly fellow, dressed in a suit of buckskin, and who, while on the Isthmus, manifested a most ardent passion for parrots, was also on board. Besides these, there were eight colonels, seven majors, five captains, three professors, six doctors, ten quacks, five lawyers, eight pettifoggers, a score of blacklegs, six or eight ladies, a dozen other adult females, and fifteen or twenty children. We also had the company of a Polish patriot, who was on his way to the East to join the Turkish army.

On the seventh or eighth day after our departure from San Francisco, one of the passengers, while taking spy-glass observations, espied a motionless object at a great distance on the water—the sea at the time being perfectly calm and smooth. The spy-glass passed rapidly from hand to hand, and was kept almost constantly leveled towards the object; but nobody could determine what it was. One man thought it a ship in distress; another inclined to the opinion that it was abandoned altogether; while a third sighingly expressed his conviction that it was the decaying remnant of a melancholy wreck. The captain, more dispassionate, experienced, and capable of forming a correct judgment, now surveyed it carefully; but it was so far off upon the larboard quarter, that he acknowledged himself unable to give any reliable information concerning it. What then was to be done? Should we stifle our curiosity and continue on our course, or should we change and go to the mysterious object? Some favored one proposition, and some the other. Considerable betting had been going on as to the number of days we would be occupied in making the passage, and one half of those who had thus wagered their money were opposed to losing the time which it would require to make the examination. But the motion to go being seconded and sanctioned by a large majority of the passengers, the captain immediately turned the prow of the steamer.

After sailing awhile on this new track, we discovered a large flock of longipennate birds flying around the wreck to which we were then bound. This was an ominous sign. What were these sea buzzards doing about a disabled vessel, if they were not feeding on the dead bodies of seamen? But the rapid movement of the Cortez assured us that our curiosity should soon be allayed. With the aid of the spy-glass we could now view the object distinctly; and on approaching still nearer, we found it was nothing but an old empty scow! and that it was frequented by the fowls of the sea merely because it afforded them a place to rest and to roost. What a sore disappointment it was, not to find the carcasses of a hundred starved sailors! A day or two after this, one of the steerage passengers died, an old sail was wrapped around him, two pieces of pig-iron were fastened to his feet, and he was cast overboard.

Early in the morning of the thirteenth day of our pilgrimage upon the water, we arrived at San Juan del Sur, a miserable, good-for-nothing little town, situated on the western coast of Nicaragua, near the eleventh parallel of north latitude. The harbor was as mean and ugly as the town, being very small, shallow and inconvenient. There were no piers nor wharves, and we had to cast anchor about one hundred and fifty yards from the shore. Large yawls were then prepared for us, and we were conveyed as near terra firma as the depth of the harbor would allow. But when the yawls struck bottom, I think we were still from twenty-five to thirty yards from the water’s edge; and there were no means or facilities of reaching the shore, except by wading, or by straddling the shoulders of the half-breed, quarter-dressed natives, scores of whom, in the hope of making a few shillings, were standing waist-deep in the water all around us, and begging us to take seats on their backs, a request with which, after some deliberation, we complied.

During this novel process of debarkation, I witnessed some most ludicrous scenes. The Nicaraguans, generally speaking, are much more feeble, dwarfed, and effeminate than the people of the United States. On an average, I should think that one able-bodied Kentuckian would be equal to four or five of these hybrid denizens of the torrid zone. It will not, therefore, surprise the reader when I tell him that the small man, while carrying the large one through the water, being top-heavy, would sometimes drop his burden! Nor was this all; the ladies were yet behind, and they had to be brought ashore in the same manner!

Among our passengers were two or three oleaginous men, of Falstaff proportions; one of whom engaged a couple of the stoutest carriers around the yawl to convey him to the shore. Fixing himself upon their shoulders as well as he could, he signified to them that he was ready, and they made for land; but before they had proceeded half a dozen steps, he weighed them down, and all three fell flat on their backs in the water! This little mishap created a great deal of merriment; and several others who had just mounted and started, unable to restrain their laughter, leaned back too far to give it vent, and down they tumbled into the water likewise! It was necessary for the rider, or topmost man, to keep himself in a quiet, perpendicular position; for if he leaned backward, or forward, or sideway, he was sure to throw the carrier off his equilibrium, in which case both of them would fall down together.

The ladies had now arrived from the Cortez, and were ready to disembark. There was but one way for them to get ashore, and that has already been explained. They, too, were compelled to straddle the shoulders of the natives; and when fairly mounted, give the signal of command, and ride ahead boldly, like equestrian amazons in a circus. It may here be remarked that these men were nearly naked, there being no apparel upon them except a kind of bandage or wrapper around their loins. The manner of mounting the carrier, whose head was almost on a level with the rim of the yawl, was to place the right limb over his right shoulder, and the left over his left; and when thus conveyed to the shore, it was a very easy matter to part the limbs from his shoulders, and slide down his back. These, then, were the means and facilities which were afforded for the disembarkation of the ladies; and I have thus dwelt upon the subject for the purpose of informing my fair readers, if I have any, what they may expect upon their arrival at San Juan del Sur.

All the passengers and baggage were now landed, and after a deal of vexation in securing checks and transit tickets, we set forward across the country in the direction of Virgin Bay, a shabby village, situated about fifteen miles distant, on Lake Nicaragua. We traveled this part of the way on donkeys. The roads were in pretty fair condition, and a few of the ladies, being well skilled in horsemanship, rode sideways, but the majority of them having but little knowledge of equestrian exercises, rode like men. This was my first entrance into the dismal glories of a tropical forest. The trees pressed against each other for room, and were clothed with the heaviest and most luxuriant foliage I ever beheld, presenting every tint and shade of green. Coppice and parasites filled up the interstices between them. Myriads of gay-plumaged birds warbled upon their branches. Ten thousand times ten thousand insects chirped beneath their limbs. Nimble monkeys ran up their trunks, and venomous reptiles slept in their shadows.

To give an idea of the weather, I will simply say that, if I intended to become a citizen of Nicaragua, I should advocate the immediate construction of three public works, namely: a government bellows, a state fan, and a great national umbrella! With the aid of these cooling machines, I should think a person might manage to keep passably comfortable; but without them, the heat is almost intolerable. In our own country, the people are apt to complain of the hot days which dawn upon them in July and August, but the caloric of the United States bears no more comparison to that of Nicaragua than a frosty morning in Carolina to a perpetual winter in Greenland.

We rode on, however, in spite of the fiery heat of the sun, and arrived at Virgin Bay in good season for dinner. There were eight or ten dirty little taverns in this despicable little town, and as it was uncertain how long we should have to wait for our baggage, which was still behind, and which was not expected before night, we placed ourselves in charge of the landlords, who were highly pleased to receive such a multitude of guests. About four o’clock in the afternoon, I went down to the lake to bathe, having been previously assured that the alligators did not frequent that side of the bay, except during the night.

The scenery here was grand beyond description. Lake Nicaragua itself may be justly termed an inland sea. It is more than one hundred miles long, and sixty miles in width. Mount Ometepe, a dormant volcano, and by far the most beautiful elevation I ever saw, rises up out of the midst of this lake, in the form of a sugar-loaf, to the height of seven thousand feet. At a rough guess, I should say it was about fifty miles in circumference at the base, or rather at the surface of the water.

A little before sunset, I returned to my hotel, and took supper. I had, however, but little appetite for culinary preparations, for I had fed myself on such a quantity of mangoes, oranges, bananas, and other tropical fruits, that I was quite surfeited. Forty or fifty hammocks were suspended in the loft of the hotel, and these were more attractive than any other part of the entertainment.

We sat up until nearly midnight, waiting for our baggage, but it did not come; and we were then informed that it would not arrive before morning. The sun arose and found us still separated from our effects. Noon came and brought the baggage with it. Thus you see we had suffered an unnecessary delay of twenty-four hours at Virgin Bay. The steamer Ometepe was now ready to receive us, and as we were all anxious to reach home, we lost no time in going aboard. From this place we sailed in a south-easterly direction until breakfast hour next morning, when we arrived at Fort San Carlos, where we entered the San Juan river, which conveys the waters of Lake Nicaragua into the Caribbean Sea. There was nothing to be seen at San Carlos, except the dilapidated fort, and it was not worth looking at. Here we had to leave the Ometepe, and embark on a smaller boat, the river being too shallow to float a vessel of deep draught.

Pursuing the current of the San Juan, we passed the unworthy little village of Castillo, and again changed boats, leaving one of sorry dimensions behind, and taking passage in a meaner one of less size, and now came the peculiar annoyance of the route. Owing to the shoals and sand banks in the river, we had to change ourselves and our baggage several times; and every change we made was from bad to worse. Those of us who had taken passage in the cabin, though we had paid more than double the price of steerage tickets, received no extra accommodation whatever. We were reduced to a level with the steerage passengers at San Juan del Sur, and no manner of distinction was made between us until we reached the opposite coast. For three days and nights we were all crowded together in utter disorder and confusion; men, women and children, white people and negroes, decent men and blackguards—all fared alike. The presence of the ladies did not seem to exercise any restraint upon the tongues of the vulgar. I am sure I had never before been in the company of a set of human beings who were capable of giving utterance to such an incessant volley of scurrilous and obscene language as I heard while crossing the Isthmus.

There was not a mouthful of victuals prepared for us on board of these miserable, rickety little steamers; nor was there any place to sleep, except on deck, among puddles of tobacco juice. Occasionally we had an opportunity of buying fruits and refreshments on the way; and this was the only method we had of procuring any thing to eat. I do not think I slept two hours out of the seventy-two which we occupied in passing the two oceans. Indeed, the Transit Company treated us very shabbily. We had paid them their price, and they had promised us better things. Sometimes, to save the steamer from running aground, we had to debark, and walk on the bank of the river. On one occasion we were compelled to travel more than two miles in this manner, before we could find water deep enough to carry us aboard the boat. As we neared the mouth of the river, we met and overtook a great many adult natives, who were in the same costume in which nature had launched them into the world. They did not seem to be conscious of any impropriety in thus exposing their persons.

Nicaragua can never fulfil its destiny until it introduces negro slavery. Nothing but slave labor can ever subdue its forests or cultivate its untimbered lands. White men may live upon its soil with an umbrella in one hand and a fan in the other; but they can never unfold or develop its resources. May we not safely conclude that negro slavery will be introduced into this country before the lapse of many years? We think so. The tendency of events fully warrants this inference.

The time may come when negro slavery will no longer be profitable in the United States; and it is also possible that the descendants of Ham may finally work their way beyond the present limits of our country. But if these fated people ever do make their exodus from the hands of their present owners, they will find themselves journeying and toiling under the control of new masters, in the fertile wildernesses and savannas nearer the equator. Louisiana and Texas may, at some future time—far in the future—find it to their interest to adopt the white slavery system of the North; but if negro slavery ever ceases to exist in the United States, Mexico, Central America, and the countries still further South, will have to become its outlets and receptacles.

It would be no easy task to find a more feeble and ineffective population than that which now idles away a miserable existence in Nicaragua. Nature is too bountiful to the inhabitants. It supplies them with every necessary of life, and consequently there is no incentive to exertion or emulation. Countless fruits and nuts grow and ripen spontaneously, and they have nothing to do but to eat them. We did not pass a single patch of ground under cultivation; nor did I see any improvement, except the despicable little huts and shanties in which the people lived.

On the morning of the first day of April, we arrived at San Juan del Norte, alias Greytown, which has recently handed its name down to history, in connection with that of commander Hollins, by whom, in compliance with instructions from our government, it was bombarded a few months ago. We did not go on shore, but I saw enough of the place to convince me that it was never worth half the paper which has been spoiled by diplomatic notes concerning it. The Americans call it Greytown, but the original Spanish name is San Juan del Norte, which, when Anglicized, means Saint John of the North. As we have had a good deal to say respecting San Juan del Sur, it may not be amiss to state that the English of it is Saint John of the South. Just before we left the mouth of the river, we saw eight or ten full-grown alligators, basking on an islet, thirty or forty yards from us. They were all lying near each other, and did not seem to be frightened at our appearance. I was well pleased to have such a fair view of these amiable lizards, but regretted my inability to secure one for Barnum! About three hundred of our passengers waved us an adieu at Greytown, and took passage in the steamer Daniel Webster for New Orleans. The rest immediately set sail for New York, in the steamer Star of the West.

We now found ourselves happily situated where we had good order, good accommodations, and good treatment—three good things which many of us had not been accustomed to for three long years. An air of propriety and fitness pervaded the Star of the West fore and aft; and we felt as if we were emerging from a vile and debased community, and entering upon the threshold of refined society. No incident worthy of note occurred during this part of our voyage. We were in hopes the captain would stop at Kingston, Havana, or some other West India port; but he had no occasion to do so. Passing on between Cuba and Yucatan, we rounded the Florida Reefs, and then followed the Gulf stream until we reached the latitude of Cape Hatteras, when we bore nearer the land, and ran into the harbor of New York on Sunday, April 9th, having had a passage of twenty-four days from San Francisco.

CHAPTER XVI.

MY LAST MINING ADVENTURE.

More than satisfied with the experience I had acquired in mining operations in California, I found much difficulty in deciding upon my future course. At one time I made up my mind to try what the fickle jade fortune would do for me in Australia, and even went so far as to engage a passage on board of a ship that would sail for Sydney within a week. An acquaintance and friend, to whom I imparted my intentions, earnestly persuaded me to abandon my projected voyage, and urged me to accompany him to Columbia and take an interest in a very promising mining adventure. My friend said “he felt quite sure that we could make an ounce ($16) a day each with the utmost ease, provided we were favored with sufficient rain. And as the rainy season was close at hand, he was fully satisfied that we should have as plentiful a supply of water as our mining operations would require.” I had heard of these diggings frequently, and that gold was found there in great abundance, but as no stream watered these surface mines, they could only be worked during the rainy season. As my friend’s story was corroborated by my own knowledge of these things, I agreed without much hesitation to abandon my voyage to Australia, and join him in this new mining expedition—mentally resolving, however, that it should be the last of my efforts to become suddenly rich by delving for gold in the mines of California.

We left San Francisco in the latter part of the month of October, ran up the river San Joaquin to Stockton in a stern-wheel steamboat, so crowded with passengers that berths were entirely out of the question, and so we were doomed to get through the night as best we could. And such a night! It is my candid belief that for some unknown reason this particular night lasted as long as thirteen others combined together, and that during its continuance, I visited the infernal regions, upon the pressing invitation of a legion of fiends, all wearing Chinamen’s hats and long tails; moreover, I solemnly assert that almost every winged insect and other creeping thing within a circuit of fifty leagues paid their respects to us on board that miserable little steamboat. I have a faint recollection of invoking the aid of all the saints in the calendar for relief, but they would not hear me, and so I e’en concluded to imitate great Cæsar’s example at the base of Pompey’s statue,—wrap my head in my mantle, and thus resign myself to inexorable fate. As to my friend, I had lost sight of him almost as soon as we entered the boat, and it was no small gratification to think that remorse had caused him to commit suicide, or some such thing. I trusted he had leaped overboard from sheer compunction of conscience for having deluded me into this scrape, and hoped by drowning himself to atone in some measure for his atrocious conduct. Poor fellow! I forgave him, and mentally resolved to get up something pathetic in the shape of an obituary notice, as thus: Departed this life, on the evening of the 25th of October, 1853, by water, one Shad Back, (real name supposed to be Shadrach Bachus,) aged 34, or there-away. The immediate cause of his death was remorse of conscience for having decoyed an unsuspecting and virtuous youth on board of a poor miserable craft crowded with passengers, without berths, without seats, and swarming with vermin of every description, including Chinamen. It is supposed that, in a moment of despair, produced by witnessing the distress of his victim, he jumped into the river and was drowned. His numerous friends cannot but bewail his untimely end, although some are of the opinion that it “sarved him right.” Requiescat in pace.

I thought I would add to this a verse or so from some suitable ditty, but could hit upon nothing that would reach the case better than a portion of Gray’s Elegy, beginning: “Here rests his head upon this lap of earth,” &c. Now as I was not fully convinced that “his head did rest upon this lap of earth,” I deemed it best to change the text slightly to meet the melancholy occasion, and make it read thus:

I confess my inability to state distinctly what is meant by the last line; it seemed to rhyme with “unknown,” and as I never had been guilty of an attempt of this kind before, I thought it would do very well as a first effort in the line of poetry. I may as well here explain also, that as I intended to have the whole thing painted upon a good sized shingle, and that nailed upon some tree near the sea shore, I thought it would be a good idea to have the hand with an extended finger painted conspicuously on the shingle, to serve as a pointer towards the ocean; this would sufficiently explain the meaning of “there rests,” and “briny wave.”

Notwithstanding the bodily torments I underwent during that livelong night, with my head wrapped in a mantle and all the rest of my person fairly given over to the tender mercies of thousands of mosquitos, gnats, sand-flies, ants, ticks, fleas and bed-bugs, I really experienced a strong sensation of relief upon reflecting how very handsomely I had disposed of my friend’s earthly affairs. At the same time I thought it quite possible that my good intentions towards his memory, coupled with the fact of my sufferings, and the pains and penalties I had undergone and was still enduring, would in a measure serve as a sort of atonement for my own sins of omission and commission, beginning far back, at a very early period of my life.

Morning dawned at last, and I was in the very act of gathering the remainder of my person into an upright position, when I heard a voice, proceeding from beneath an immense heap of Chinamen, Irishmen, and niggers, calling me by name, and entreating my assistance to get him upon his legs. I seemed to know the voice very well, but could not recall to mind the owner. Deeming it, however, the duty of a good Christian to help a distressed fellow-creature, I made my way through the crowd to the spot whence the voice issued, and there, to my intense grief and astonishment, I beheld my friend Shad upon his back, actively engaged in repelling, with hands and feet, the united assaults of a strong force, composed of three Irishmen and four Chinese fellows. I became convinced, the moment I saw his position, that if he escaped hanging for his misdemeanors in California, he would become a great general, and an ornament to the military profession. I came to this conclusion because, at the moment I saw him, he was preparing to repel the enemy in a most masterly manner. The allies were en potence, and had already attacked and dispersed Shad’s advanced guard, making prisoners of his outlying pickets (his boots and hat) in a gallant manner. Then with a determination to conquer or die, rushed upon the main body. Here, after a most desperate struggle, during which many great deeds of daring were exhibited, the enemy were repulsed with immense loss. Much as I deprecate war in any shape, yet I could not sufficiently admire the calm and collected appearance of Shad, even when in the heat of the melee. One particular feat performed by one of Shad’s feet, was observed by me with much astonishment, and it seemed to strike an Irishman very forcibly too, as he honored the performance by immediate prostration. The enemy had retired to a distance, and no doubt held a council of war, and from the disposition of his forces shortly after, I judged his intention was to make a demonstration upon Shad’s front, and then attack him with his whole concentrated force in the rear. My conjecture proved correct. I saw in a moment that this manœvre must prove successful, unless Shad could strengthen his flanks, or form himself into a hollow square. And here it soon became apparent how profoundly my friend had studied the art of attack and defence. A pocket edition of Vauban must have been his constant companion, or he never could have assumed such a formidable appearance as that which he now presented. Like an able general, he had divined the enemy’s intentions, and to meet the emergency, had disposed his person in such a manner that he could swing himself around like a teetotum while lying upon his back, much the same as a long eighteen upon a pivot. In this position, or rather with this rotary motion, Shad was invulnerable. He presented a front in every direction, and utterly defeated the enemy’s most strenuous efforts to capture him.

At this stage of the proceedings, I proposed mediating between the high contending parties, which proposal being acceded to, I forthwith decided the matter in difference, (of which I did not understand one word,) by decreeing a forfeiture of Shad’s boots, the restoration of his hat, and the payment by Shad for two gallons of red-eye, to regale the company. This last decision was received with marked respect by all but my poor friend. It was also decreed that the captured boots should belong hereafter to the most devout of the belligerents. Thereupon they were deposited at the feet of a boy from the sod, who, since his prostration, had been seated on deck, curved up in a manner quite curious to behold. He resembled the capital letter G as much as any thing I could think of at the time. Peace having been solemnly proclaimed, I had now an opportunity of better observing my friend Back’s personal appearance. He had never been very remarkable for great personal beauty at any period of his life, and as the late battle had not left him wholly unscathed, it would have proved a great hit indeed to an artist, if he could have taken his likeness just then! When we came on board of this infernal boat, Mr. Shad Back possessed a pair of bright blue eyes, which by some uncommon process had been converted, during the night, into a pair (or rather one and a half) of dismal black ones; his nose, always flat, was now scarcely discernible at all—it had been absolutely beaten into his face; lips as thick and black as those of a Loango negro, and without a tooth in his head to save him from starvation. The fact is, my friend Shad had received as severe a mauling as one man could well stagger under; and although I pitied him truly and sincerely, yet I could not help feeling a sort of disappointment at knowing he was not drowned or dead in some way, and it is a great disappointment to any one, after making extensive preparations to mourn the fate of a man who he hopes will commit suicide. After he has adjusted his face and his garments to represent a decent amount of grief, and above all, after he has composed his epitaph, including therein a scrap of touching poetry, to find that he is not dead nor drowned after all, I say again, is a disappointment and a great shame.

But, supposing “all things are for the best,” I swallowed my chagrin and a cup of (stewed mud) coffee together, resolving to write no man’s epitaph until I had the sexton’s certificate, or officiated in person at the crowner’s or coroner’s inquest.

We landed in Stockton a little before noon of the same day, and thence took passage in a lumber wagon for Columbia, in or near which place the mines were situated. Columbia is in Tuolumne county, near the base of the Sierra Nevada, and contains about 2,000 inhabitants. Its mines are said to be the richest in the State. As we had come here for the express purpose of making a fortune without let or hindrance, and with as little labor as possible, we went to work at once, digging and toiling like men determined to become millionaires within a week at the farthest. In a few days we had collected a large mass of dirt together, and only waited for rain to afford us an opportunity of testing its value. But the rain would not come. Every morning, for at least a month, Shad predicted rain in torrents, and got drunk without delay, in order, as he said, to celebrate an event of so much consequence to our future fortunes. Sure enough, the rain did come at last. It continued to fall somewhat briskly for about an hour, then it ceased for an hour or so. Again it fell for another hour, and thus during the day we had rain and sunshine alternating very systematically indeed, and quite encouragingly.

The amount of water that had fallen barely sufficed to wet the thirsty earth, and it would therefore require just six such rainy days to give us water sufficient to commence our washing operations. Mr. Back’s extensive researches into the science of astronomy enabled him to predict an astonishing amount of wet weather; at least such, he said, was prognoxicated by the starring ferment, that really the stars were looking so very wet and uncomfortable, that he could not but pity their condition, especially jolly old Aaron, with the belt. Shad had drunk a more than ordinary quantity of liquor that day, in commemoration, I suppose, of the beginning of the rainy season.

We were now well into the month of December. The rainy season usually commences about the middle of November, and continues almost without intermission until the latter part of February. The year previous it had rained for three months without cessation; now we had no rain. December passed away, and January had come, still the drought continued. Men and animals drooped, the earth had become baked, not a shrub, not a leaf, no, not even a blade of grass could be seen in any direction. A drier season had never been known in that region. Shad had been sober for several days upon compulsion entirely. He could get no more liquor, not because the fiery draught was scarce, but for want of money to pay for it. My own funds were out, gone to liquidate our daily expenses, so that the prospect before us looked gloomy enough. I think, had it been our good fortune to have water, we should have made a very handsome sum out of our large heap of dirt. Without water, to separate the precious metal from the dirt, we could do nothing. About the 20th of January it rained nearly all the morning. “Hope told a flattering tale.” Alas for us poor devils, the rain ceased at noon; this same half a day’s rain cost Shad the only shirt he had for liquor. He said he felt morally certain the rainy season had set in now, and that he would have a regular jollification upon the strength of it, if it cost him his shirt, and it did cost him his shirt.

The season was now so far advanced that we could no longer hope for continuous rain, if it came at all; so I resolved, though with reluctance and after much deliberation, to abandon our pile of gold and make the best of my way back to San Francisco. It was all well enough that I should make a resolve of this description, but the principal part of the affair would be to carry it into effect. The primum mobile, the sinews of war, the wherewith must first be found before I could budge an inch. It was next to impossible to expect aid or counsel from poor Shad. He, good, susceptible soul, had fallen a willing victim to the artful blandishments of an ancient squaw, not so much on account of her great personal attractions as in consequence of her valuable possessions, which consisted of a dilapidated blanket and a keg of whiskey. I was quite charmed with the appearance of the squaw, she so strongly resembled a kangaroo; indeed it was quite a treat to see the pair together, it being problematical which was the most hideous, or the most beastly. I found it utterly useless to remonstrate with him; in fact, he never was in a fitting condition to understand me: so I made up my mind to leave him. Through the kindness of a friend, which was afterwards reciprocated, I was enabled to pay the few debts I had contracted, and to leave Columbia with a trifle of money, which, with economy, enabled me to reach San Francisco in due time.

Thus terminated my last mining adventure in the gold regions of California.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE VIGILANCE COMMITTEE.

Great mistakes are made in regard to this organization by most writers who have spoken of it. They have committed the very common error of judging of the institutions of one set of people by the standard of another. They have applied to California the same rule which would guide them in their judgment of an Atlantic State. In reality, however, there is no parallel between the two. The latter is inhabited by a population educated to regard the law as the paramount authority. The lawless are in the minority among them. Years of good government have taught the criminal to look upon the public authorities as his bitterest foes, and the honest man to regard them as his friends and protectors.

In California, however, every thing was the reverse of this. No sooner were her doors thrown open and her treasures disclosed, than people from every quarter of the globe thronged to her shores. Men of industrious habits and adventurous spirit went thither of course, as they always hasten to every new field of enterprise. The crowd of newcomers, however, was swelled by others of a far different character. Plunder was of course to be had, and the swindlers and desperadoes, who live by their wits, were quite as eager to visit the new country as were the honest miners who had come to wrench fortune from the flinty bowels of the earth by their brawny arms.

Villains from all parts of the world swarmed upon the new soil. Cunning sharpers from New England, desperate vagabonds from Texas, bogus men from the north-west, and reckless plunderers from the prairies hastened to California like crows to a corn-field. Mexico sent thither her sly robbers, Chili and Peru furnished their secret assassins. The penal colonies of Great Britain vomited their refuse upon this unhappy land, and even savage pirates from the Eastern Archipelago found their way to El Dorado. The territory numbered among her inhabitants accomplished thieves, burglars and cut-throats from every civilized and barbarous country within reach, men who had been familiar with courts and jails, and all punishments short of death.

It may readily be understood what a state of society existed there. The laws of the United States were, by a figure of speech, said to be in force over the new territory. Really, however, they were as impotent as they are in a village of Blackfeet among the Rocky Mountains. The officers of the law were utterly powerless. Rarely did they attempt to assert their authority, and when they did make the effort, they signally failed. The only law recognized there was that of the strongest. The correct aim, the steady hand, the strong arm were the only protectors of a Californian in those days. He might as well lean upon a wilted blade of grass as upon the legal authorities.

This condition of affairs afforded a fine harvest to the amiable gentlemen who had come hither to practice their professions. Robberies and murders became every-day occurrences, of no more importance than an assault and battery on election day. The most daring outrages were every where committed with impunity. Unoffending men were shot down and pillaged in broad daylight; shops were broken open; haciendas were stormed;—in short, the country was in a state of siege, and the blackguards were in the ascendent.

At this critical period, some of the settlers fortunately recollected a similar state of affairs in the country between the Mississippi and the Alleghanies, and the sharp but effective remedy which was then applied. They remembered how organized bands of robbers had infested the states and territories of the Mississippi Valley, how judges and constables and sheriffs had been connected with these infamous associations, how justice was perpetually defrauded of her dues, because juries composed of members of the same villainous fraternity could easily be packed; and how, finally, the honest portion of the community, exasperated beyond endurance by these repeated villainies, took the law in their own hands, and remorselessly hung and shot all the desperadoes who fell into their power, with the ultimate effect of restoring peace and good order.

The same evil demanded the same remedy. The Vigilance Committee was organized. It was composed of the best men in San Francisco, men who would have been the most zealous supporters of the law, had there been any law to support; men of firmness and resolution who were determined to have peace and security at all hazards. It was not exactly a secret society, but some sort of privacy was necessary to be observed. Were its agents generally known, not only would they be marked out for the secret vengeance of the vermin they were hunting down, but their vigilance would be more easily evaded, and the operations of the committee crippled.

The most important question which occurred to the committee, at its very formation, was the disposition to be made of the criminals arrested by its agents. They had no prisons at their command, and had no time to devote to the tedious formalities of law proceedings. Ropes, however, were at their disposal, and even California had trees enough to answer their purposes, except San Francisco, where the pulleys upon hoisting beams which projected from the warehouses afforded a very convenient substitute. Their code, therefore, necessarily resembled Draco’s. For graver crimes they hung their culprits, for minor offences they flogged them, rode them on rails, tarred and feathered them, and ordered them away from a settlement within a given time under penalty of sharper punishment. Their threats were generally punctually executed. Their principle was that of Mr. Carlyle—to get rid of rascality by exterminating the rascals.

The results of the proceedings of this committee were beneficial in the highest degree. Before its establishment, it was dangerous to walk the streets of San Francisco in broad daylight; after it had been in operation for a short time, that city became as safe as any upon the other sea-board. They retained their authority until a State government had been formed, its officers duly appointed, and its sovereignty proclaimed; after which they laid it down. Whatever may be thought of the organization, no one can accuse it of intentional injustice. Hasty they may occasionally have been, but deliberately wrong, never. The best tribute that could be paid to their honesty and efficiency was the general apprehension of the people on the occasion of the charge just alluded to. They dreaded the establishment of a government of law, and generally preferred the irresponsible action of the committee. It is also a well ascertained fact that California has never been so orderly as it was under their rule. Immediately upon their resignation, the rogues began to breathe more freely, and crime to increase.

We have already said that this committee has been harshly judged and unjustly condemned by persons who were imperfectly or not at all acquainted with the facts in the case. These very men, however, recognize the necessity and acknowledge the benefits of the Holy Vehm. They can see plainly enough that the robber barons “who spared not man in their anger nor woman in their lust,” who were a curse and a nuisance to all honest people, needed to be struck suddenly and without remedy by some invisible hand, which they could neither escape by flight, intimidate by threats, nor bribe with money. They cannot understand, however, that the plebeian scoundrels of California required the same sharp and summary punishments which were needed for the rascally noblemen of the dreaded Red Land of Westphalia. It is very easy for people who sit by their comfortable firesides and look out upon well-fed policemen patrolling the streets, conspicuous by their glittering star, to descant upon the beauties of law and order. The man, however, who has just been knocked down and robbed in San Francisco by a vagabond who cannot be brought to justice, has not so clear a perception of the necessity of resorting to a tribunal which is powerless to punish, or of appealing to a constable who is equally unable to protect him from injury. These things have a relative, not an actual value; they are, or, perhaps I ought to say, they were worthless in California. A cockney traveler might as well take a London policeman to Sebastopol to prevent the Cossacks from taking liberties with his sacred person.

The main thing every where to be attained is order, that honest men may do their work in peace and quietness. If law gives them this, well and good. Law must be supported. If law is powerless, then the rifle, or the knife, or the rope must take its place. In so unsettled a state of society, as that which existed in California at the time of which we are speaking, the first thing is to strike terror into the ruffians. That must be done, let the cost be what it may. After the power of the honest man is established on a firm basis, then it is time enough to organize courts of law.

The quiet and honest settlers of California were fully convinced of the necessity of this committee, and zealously supported it. Indeed, the committee rarely acted alone. Almost always the citizens were called in, and had as much to say as the members of this self-constituted tribunal upon the case in hand. They only took the initiative; they saw that the scoundrels did not escape; the public did the rest.

As for the thieves, robbers and rascals of every grade, they entertained a wholesome terror of this energetic organization. When one of them received his orders to quit a certain place, he did not dare to disobey. He knew that unless he did what he was commanded, his punishment was inevitable. The committee was as inexorable as destiny itself.

I have no time to go into the examination of the arguments advanced against such an institution as this. A glance at one or two must suffice. It has been said that the committee was irresponsible, and that it is highly dangerous to entrust the power of life and death to irresponsible hands. In truth, however, the committee was not irresponsible. It sprang from the people, and though not formally elected by them, was nevertheless tacitly acknowledged. All its power resulted from the fact that it was a genuine exponent of public opinion, a faithful executor of the public will. The moment it failed fairly to represent the people, that moment its days were numbered. The members of the committee knew perfectly well that the same fate which they decreed to the culprits who fell into their hands, awaited them, should they ever become dangerous to the people.

Again, they have been accused of haste and cruelty in their operations. We have already said something on this head. Perhaps, however, it may be well to speak more directly to this charge. The necessity of punishment must be granted. There is no other mode of preserving order. Now, it must be remembered that California was then really in a state of anarchy, though nominally under the government of the United States. Every body did that which was right in his own eyes, or rather what his inclination prompted him to attempt. The consequence was, as we have already said, that murders and robberies were every-day occurrences. Life and property were wholly unprotected. In this state of affairs the vigilance committee took the matter up, and determined to regulate affairs. What were they to do with a criminal once caught? To take bail for him, and let him run till a certain course of regular formalities could be gone through with? That would have been an extremely judicious proceeding. The escaped scoundrel would have committed further depredations, and, in all probability, the most conspicuous of the committee would have fallen victims to his vengeance. It was necessary, therefore, to try him at once, or else let him go scot-free. The trial over, and conviction obtained, the sentence, whatever it might be, required to be immediately executed, because they had no place of safe-keeping for him. If exile was decreed, he was forthwith drummed out of the settlement; if he was to be hung, the rope was immediately provided. There was no help for it; unless justice were summary, it was null.

As for the charge of cruelty, it must be acknowledged that the code of the vigilance committee was severe. They hung for many offences which, in the Eastern States, can only deprive a man of his liberty. This also was a matter of necessity. Such severity was requisite to strike terror into the lawless vagabonds who infested the newly settled country. Besides, it was doing no more than was done in civilized, refined, enlightened England less than fifty years ago. Indeed, the vigilance committee were more merciful than the authorities of that realm, who hung a rogue for stealing a hat. It was only when a robbery was attended with circumstances of peculiar atrocity that they resorted to this extreme punishment.

Allowance must also be made for the state of feeling among the people in regard to capital punishment. It did not inflict such a shock upon them as it does on the inhabitants of an old, regularly governed country. Life was held very cheap there; it was taken upon the slightest provocation. Every man went armed, and weapons were resorted to at the commencement of a fray. The dry goods man, who measured out calico behind his counter, waited on his customers with a pair of revolvers stuck in his belt. The customers, wild, savage looking men, leaned upon their rifles or played with their bowie-knives while making their bargain. The purchase completed, the buyer threw down his leathern bag of gold dust, the seller weighed out the proper quantity and returned the rest. Should a dispute arise, few words were interchanged; arms were immediately appealed to, and the question was speedily settled. It is but fair, however, to say that, during these early days, the regular traders had but few difficulties with the miners, arising from attempts to defraud. Clearly, such a state of society cannot be judged by the same rule which applies to a settled and orderly community. A scene which I witnessed at Sacramento will probably give my readers a better idea of the mode of proceeding adopted by the vigilance committee, than any lengthened description of mere generalities.

A man who had recently returned from the mines, and was on his way to his home on the Atlantic coast, arrived in Sacramento one morning, and put up at the Orleans hotel. He had been quite successful in his labors, and brought in a goodly quantity of gold dust, a portion of which only he had deposited; the rest he carried about his person for current expenses. Elated with his good fortune, he could not refrain from boasting of his skill and judgment, and the excellent results he had obtained. He exhibited sundry little leather bags, and picked out nuggets remarkable for size or for oddity of form, which he exhibited freely to all the inmates of the house. He had one irregular mass of gold, which, to his fancy, resembled a race-horse. Another jagged, shapeless lump, he conceived to be a perfect likeness of Mr. Polk, whom he greatly admired, and this he declared his intention of having made into a breast-pin. He talked largely of the great things he would do with his money when he reached home, and, in the excess of his liberality, “treated the crowd” to innumerable cock-tails and smashes.

Two men, who were unknown to the people of the hotel, seemed particularly interested in the history of his exploits, and professed to have acquired a high regard for him personally, during their brief acquaintance. They swore he was a trump, that such a good fellow deserved to make money, and professed to rejoice in his success as greatly as though it had been their own. They too, they said, had just come in from the mines, where they had made a few ounces, though nothing like what our friend had secured. They were so exhilarated by his good fortune that they vowed they would return and try their luck again. They had come down with the intention of going home, but they did not like to be beaten by any one, so they would just “knock around” the city a little, have some fun, and go back to the mines the next day. Our friend was “such a devilish good fellow,” that they were proud to have made his acquaintance, and would enjoy their frolic ten-fold if they could only prevail upon him to accompany them.

Their proposition was accepted. Success and “red-eye” had rendered him more than usually confiding, and the three strolled away, amid the laughter of the crowd, reeling, hiccoughing, and swearing eternal friendship. They rambled off to a back street, engaged in the same interesting conversation. Suddenly one of the companions of our hero disengaged himself from his arm, slipped behind him, and with a billet gave him a tremendous blow upon the head, which knocked him bleeding upon the pavement. He was stunned only for a moment, and the blow seemed to have sobered him. He began to struggle, when his other newly found friend joined in the assault. The two together belabored him severely over the head till he lay senseless and motionless upon the pavement. Thinking they had quieted him for ever, they proceeded to rifle his pockets, and soon stripped him of every thing valuable he had about his person. They then made off with their booty.

Strange as it may sound to my reader, this outrage was perpetrated about three o’clock on a summer afternoon. Some persons in the neighborhood witnessed the whole affair, and immediately gave the alarm. The vigilance committee, ever on the alert, were soon in pursuit, and the scoundrels were captured a short distance from the outskirts of the city. The news spread with great rapidity, and soon a large crowd had collected. When I reached the scene of action, the members of the committee were escorting the culprits to a little grove of stunted oaks which stood upon the outskirts of the town. There was an expression of calm determination on the faces of the committee, of angry excitement on those of the rest of the crowd. Furious cries of “hang them!” burst from the mob, but did not seem to excite or ruffle the chief actors in this terrible drama, who went about their duties with great system and deliberation. As for the criminals themselves, a more villainous pair of faces it was never my fortune to look upon. Low brows, heavy features, and cold steel-gray eyes, gave them the expression with which Cruikshanks has pictured Sykes in his illustrations of Oliver Twist. They were Australian convicts, brutal wretches, whose hands were red with blood.

A jury was immediately empanneled by order of the committee, one of whom acted as judge. “Fellow-citizens,” said he, “these men have been accused of perpetrating an atrocious crime within the limits of this city. We are now ready to give them a fair trial. Those gentlemen who witnessed the outrage will now come forward and give in their testimony!”

The culprits were made to confront the jury, guarded by members of the Vigilance Committee. Several citizens came forward and stated what they had seen, and others from the hotel identified the prisoners as the men who went off with the unlucky miner. They also recognized the bags and the nuggets which were taken from them as the same which had been exhibited at the hotel. As for the wounded man, he was too badly hurt to testify.

The case was fairly made out against them, the jury gave in their verdict, and the judge formally inquired what the convicts had to say why sentence should not be pronounced upon them. They muttered out a few unintelligible words, when with a clear loud voice, he said: “Prisoners, you have been found guilty of a murderous assault and robbery. You have had a fair trial, and the sentence of this court is that you he forthwith hung by the neck till you are dead! One hour will be granted for such religious exercises as you may desire. If there is any one present who is disposed to render these men any religious service, he is requested to come forward.”

A man, who represented himself as a Methodist preacher, now advanced to the miserable men, said a few words to them in a low tone of voice, and then knelt down to pray beside them. During this part of the ceremony, the crowd stood silently by, and many took off their hats.

Presently the preacher rose and mingled with the crowd. A man advanced to the culprits and carefully pinioned their arms with a strong rope. At this stage of the proceedings, they seemed to be fully aroused to a sense of their danger. They looked around and seemed to scrutinize every face in the whole assembled multitude. Never shall I forget that mute, appealing gaze. It was useless; not a face in the whole crowd wore an aspect of mercy; but again arose the angry shout: “Hang them! hang them!” The judge now called out, “Gentlemen! the hour is up!” whereupon they were led to a tree and swung off. A few struggles and all was over. The crowd quietly dispersed; the excitement subsided, and an hour afterwards no one would have suspected that any thing unusual had happened.

Such proceedings as these—the absolute and inevitable certainty of punishment—produced order throughout the State. Indeed, it was the Vigilance Committee alone that ever has enforced obedience to law. The State’s Attorney of San Francisco states that in four years twelve hundred murders had been perpetrated, and only one of the criminals was convicted. What wonder if some people still sigh for the days of the Vigilance Committee?