The land of gold; or, Three years in California — John Shaqi
The land of gold; or, Three years in CaliforniaColton, Walter
History
The land of gold; or, Three years in California
Colton, Walter
California -- Gold discoveries; California -- History -- 1846-1850
FRIDAY, SEPT. 18. A bearer of dispatches from Commodore Stockton to our
government is to leave to-morrow morning in the Erie, and we are all
busy in writing letters home by him. The Erie is to take the
dispatch-bearer to Panama, and then proceed to the Sandwich Islands. We
have not received any letters from home since we sailed from Callao; the
year has rolled from the buds of spring into the sear leaf of autumn
since any intelligence has reached us from those we love. Death may have
stricken them into the grave, but the sad tidings is yet a melancholy
secret. We ought to have a regular mail between the United States and
California. We seem remarkably eager to possess ourselves of foreign
territory, and then leave the wild geese to convey all intelligence. If
the land is only ours, and those at home can hear from it once in fifty
or a hundred years, that will do; a more frequent communication would be
quite superfluous. Had we possessed Egypt in the days of Cheops, all
information would still be considered seasonable which should come when
his pyramid had crumbled.
SATURDAY, SEPT. 19. I encountered to-day a company of Californians on
horseback, bound to a pic-nic, each with his lady love on the saddle
before him. He, as in duty bound, rides behind, throws his feet forward
into the stirrups, his left hand holds the reins, his right encircles
and sustains her, and there she rides safe as a robin in its nest;
sprigs of evergreen, with wild-flowers, wave in her little hat, and
larger clusters in his; both are gayly attired, and smiles of light and
love kindle in their dark expressive eyes. Away they gallop over hill
and valley, waking the wild echoes of the wood. One of my hunting dogs
glanced at them for a while, and seemed so tickled, he had to plunge
into the bushes to get rid of his mirth.
SUNDAY, SEPT. 20. At the invitation of Captain Richardson, I preached
this afternoon on board the Brooklyn. The crew assembled in the cabin,
which the captain had converted for the occasion into a chapel. None
attended by compulsion, but all were present of their free will. The
good order and respectful attention which prevailed showed the spirit
which pervaded the ship, and conveyed a testimony of the wise and
Christian conduct of the captain which none could mistake. I have never
met with a ship where a greater degree of harmony and alacrity in duty
were observable; all this, too, without any resort to physical force;
such is the result of moral influence when brought into full play. Give
us more of this in the navy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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