[Robert Wilson, From Carson Valley, Alta California, September 29, 1850]

 

From Carson Valley.

            We received yesterday, the following very interesting letter from our esteemed friend and entertaining correspondent, Mr. Robert Wilson, with whose letters our readers have for many months been familiar.  It will be remembered that in his last from Weberville, he announced his intention of visiting the interesting region of the Carson Valley, and we have anxiously looked for subsequent advices from him.  Mr. Wilson is a shrewd and close observer, of an enquiring disposition, and never destroys of impairs any information by any exaggeration.   What he writes may be always depended upon.  We commend the subjoined letter to the perusal of our readers:--

[Correspondence of the Alta California]

Carson Valley, Sept. 6, 1850.[1]

            Messrs. Editors—I wrote you on the 29^th ult., from Weberville. From that time down to the present moment, I have been traveling on the immigrant road. For four days after we left Weberville, the ascent was gradual, over a succession of high mountains. On the 1st inst., clouds hung overhead, and the weather became sensibly colder, particularly at night. Patches of snow might be seen on the shady side of the mountains, and in the valleys were streams of cool and refreshing water. The road was very rugged and dusty, and immigrants found great difficulty in pasturing their animals. On the 2^nd inst., in a thunder storm, accompanied by hail and rain, we crossed the highest point of the Sierra Nevada, and commenced the descent on this side, and a more difficult task, even with pack mules, cannot well be imagined.—The snow, in some places, was several feet deep, and the mountain was so steep and rocky that a train of wagons, extending at least half a mile, was detained at the base of the mountain until those above could make the ascent, which was rendered doubly difficult by the melting snow and the jaded condition of the animals. The scene was truly exciting and singular. The sky was darkened, and a cold, piercing wind rushed through the mountain pines ; the hail clattered, and the water from the melting snow roared down the mountain side ; a vivid flash of lightning was followed by a tremendous peal of thunder, which shook the mountain, and rattled like the discharge of a park of artillery. So much for the elements. In the midst of all this arose deafening cries of gee and wo from one hundred lusty voices, with an occasional oath and a loud cracking of whips. Every shoulder was to a wheel, and every nerve was strained to urge the team up the mountain steep, Next day we passed down two more such mountains, and on the 4^th we traveled down a steep and very ragged road through a cañon, crossing a river three times. Yesterday morning we arrived in Carson Valley, and traveled down it some twenty miles. To day we rest our pack mules and send out men to "prospect." Along the road we heard many contradictory reports about gold, but we believe none of them; we must see for ourselves. We met two parties of miners returning, who had been disappointed in the search of gold.

            As everything concerning the immigrants must be interesting to your readers, I will say a little more on the subject. No man would believe that the number of people pouring into California was as great as it actually is, unless he traveled the emigrant road. Our calculation was on the first four days after we left Weberville, that we passed from 100 to 300 wagons per day. On the fifth day I counted the wagons, and the number we passed was one hundred and sixty-five. Nearly all were drawn by oxen. One hundred and fifty wagons per day, for two months, would make nine thousand wagons on this route. Yesterday I counted the number of women, and it was thirty-two. We passed fully that number every day since we left Weberville. Counting twenty-five women per day, for two months, the number would be fifteen hundred. We passed, at the lowest calculation, five hundred men per day. Four hundred per day, for two months, would make twenty-four thousand. Add to these the number who travel by other routes. Nearly all of those we passed were sturdy looking Western workingmen. Most of them were afoot, having lost their animals on the desert—and scattered along, with care worn and dejected countenances, dusty, and in many cases tattered habiliments, with pots, pans, bags, blankets and rifles strapped over their shoulders— they looked more like straggling volunteers, on a forced march, than independent citizens bound for the land of gold. The women were generally young, good looking and well-dressed.   Many of then were plump, fresh looking farmers' daughters, and several of the handsomest I welcomed with bouquets of beautiful California flowers, gathered in the valleys on the other side of the Snowy Mountains. Some of the women handled the whip and reins—some were well-mounted on horseback— some rode in the wagons, and others strolled on afoot. Many of the men were in distress, and they asked us for bread. Their misfortunes were chiefly owing to the loss of animals on the desert for want of food and water. I am told that the road through the desert is literally strewed with dead horses and oxen, and that one thousand wagons were left on the desert. The road from Weberville to this place is strewed with broken wagons, wheels, harness, trunks, dead oxen, &c., &c. The loss of property on the route has been immense. Everything except provisions is strewed along road. At every camping ground the question is—"Don't you want to buy this? "—"a splendid rifle"— "a superfine coat"— "a fine pair of boots"—"a good feather bed?" Any of these articles can be bought in the Valley for $5. Flour and other articles of provision have been sold at 1.50 to 2.00 per pound. There are traders now all along the route to the desert, and prices are falling. Flour is down to 75 cts., and abundant.

            Carson Valley is some fifteen miles wide, and is covered with a luxuriant growth of grass. Snow remains still on the mountains on each side. A stream of ice water runs through our camp, and a mile distant there is a stream of water boiling hot. In the morning the steam from it is like a volume of smoke. Wild ducks and prairie hens are abundant.

            I have met several acquaintances here from the Southern mines. They found gold, but not in sufficient quantities to induce them to remain. Rich discoveries will be made on this side of the mountains, but whether we will be the lucky ones remains to be seen. To-morrow we start for the Truckey River.

            I will write you again if anything worthy of note occurs.

                        Yours truly,

R. Wilson.

____________________

[Robert Wilson, From the Immigrant Train, Alta California, October 6, 1850]

 

From the Immigrant Train.

            Below we give one more highly interesting descriptive letters [sic] from our correspondent, Mr. Wilson ; one from " Salmon Trout River," and the other from Carson Valley.   It will well repay a perusal.

[Correspondence of the Alta California.]

Salmon Trout River, Sept. 13, 1850.

            Messrs. Editors.—My last letter was written from Carson Valley.   We are now camped on Salmon Trout River, and have been employed, most of the time since we left Carson Valley, in prospecting.  There is gold in some of the gulches running into this river, but not enough to induce us to remain.  The first gulch to the left, after crossing the twelve mile desert, yielded two bits to the pan.  We traveled up six or seven miles before we came to water. For a distance of half a mile below the water the bed of the stream has been worked. This gold is not in scales ; it is in very fine, rough, grains, unlike any I have seen.  On my return, I will send you a sample.  I have no doubt but that one to two ounces to the man could be made in this gulch, per day, during the winter.  At present, it might yield $8 to $12.  But winter is close upon us, in this quarter.  There is every indication of its approach.  To winter here, a large company would be required ; they should build log houses, and lay in winter supplies.   As the ground would be covered with snow, it would be difficult to pasture animals.  The Indians are numerous and might be troublesome.  We would not risk all this, unless it were for much richer diggings.  We see no better prospect in this quarter, and intend to move to-morrow to Carson Valley.  There are indications of gold in that region, and we expect to spend some time in prospecting.  If we find a very rich spot, we will employ immigrants, and settle for the winter.  But we fear it is now too late in the season to do much.  We should have been out six weeks sooner.  In three or four weeks the Sierra Nevada will be covered with Snow.

            Within the last six weeks two companies of miners have arrived here ; one of sixty from the Northern mines, and one of fifty from the Southern.  The two persons who brought them out were to receive twenty-five dollars from each man, provided they found gold on this side of the mountains.  Most of them have returned, disappointed.  Some have remained to "prospect," and we are in hopes that rich diggings will yet be found.

            A few mornings since, we missed two horses and three mules.  We tracked Indians, and suspected them.  During the morning one of our horses came into camp, with an arrow wound in the side, and quite stiff in the limbs.  Next morning five of us, well armed, took the Indian trail, and after following it over high mountains and deep ravines, about eighteen miles, we found two of the mules in possession of six or eight Indians, who ran off as we approached.  We made signs to them, but they would not return.  We took possession of the mules, and as it was getting late, some of our company were for returning.  It was determined, however, that we should continue the search.  On reaching the next hollow, we heard Indians yells from all the mountain tops around us.  "Let us go back," said one, "we will be surrounded by a thousand."  "No," said another. "I'll die first -- stand your ground."   We then held up a white handkerchief, and beckoned for them to come down.  One or two, after some hesitation, came forward, exclaiming "How d'ye do?"  In two seconds, as if my magic, we were surrounded by nearly one hundred, all anxious to shake hands with us.  Most of them were painted – some entirely naked, and all armed with bows and arrows.  None of them spoke English or Spanish.  All they could say was "How d'ye do."  We now found that we did wrong in allowing such numbers to surround us closely, and we endeavored to get clear of the crowd.  But the yell was answered in the distance, and still they flocked into the valley, and a wilder set of creatures I have never seen.  Our mules became frightened, and one of them very impolitely knocked down an Indian with his heels, and ran off.   In the endeavor to recover him, we escaped from the crowd.  This, we thought, was a good opportunity to take our leave ; so we gave them all the bread and meat we had for our dinner, and pointing to the sun and towards our camp, bid them good bye, and cantered off.

              Immigrants still pass in great numbers, and many of them are apparently in distress, being compelled to walk and carry their blankets, cooking utensils and provisions.  Much sickness prevails about sixty miles back, this side of the forty mile desert, and many are dying of a disease something like cholera, brought on by living on fresh beef alone, and bad water, in crossing the desert.  This desert, it appears, is the hardest part of the route.  Before reaching the desert, grass had to be carried thirty miles – forty miles more makes the distance traveled without pasture, seventy miles.  The water for this distance is worse than none at all.  Here the animals begin to give out, and the immigrants begin to throw sheet iron stoves, shovels, picks, pans, clothing &c., from their wagons.  Few, if any, have died of starvation, and it is reduced to a certainty that none will die for want of food.  They all get plenty of beef.  Hundreds who have taken bowel complaints, are dying for want of proper nursing and medical attendance.  Were it not for the traders who have flocked to the desert with supplies, many more would have died.  With fresh teams, the traders are taking grass and water into the desert, and gathering up the animals and wagons they find deserted.  It is supposed that most of the immigrants have arrived.  The women stand the hardship well.  Many are on the road afoot, and but few have died.  A man who came through late, with pack mules, counted fifteen hundred graves along the road.

            Six or eight weeks ago, flour sold at the desert at $2 per pound.  When we arrived it was 75c. to $1.  It is now 40c. to 50c., and abundant.  At Carson Valley the price is down to 10c. and 15c.! and there is more on the road than will be consumed this year on this side of the mountains.  Speculators now on the way from Sacramento and Stockton, who are paying 20c. per pound freight, will be badly bitten.  Several lots of provisions have already been sent back.  A relief train, with 135 sacks of flour, from Sacramento, is on the road.

            Since we arrived on this mountain, our appetites have increased amazingly.  For the last week we have been feasting on sage chicken and wild ducks.  These sage chicken are about the size and shape of guinea hens.  All other kinds of game are scarce.  We have seen some flocks of mountain sheep and antelope.  We have killed several rattle-snakes, tarantulas, and scorpions, on this side of the mountains.            

            This morning I saw a lady, from Pennsylvania, on the road, nearly sixty years old.  She said she had grand children in the States, and was opposed to leaving them ; but her old man would always have his own way.  "Indeed," said she, "I had no peace or quietness at home, until I would consent to come.  We had a good team, and I thought we traveled over prairie all the way ; but it's been nothing but thump, thump, thump for the last five months ; and I'm heartily sick and tired of it.  But the old man would not take my advice, and now he's sorry for it, and as cross as the mischief."  Many of those arriving, I find, had no correct idea of the distance or of the difficulties to be encountered on so long a journey.  Few of them made proper calculations.

            I shall write again from Carson Valley.

                        Yours truly,

R. Wilson.    

____________________

[Robert Wilson, Correspondence of the Alta California, Alta California, October 7, 1850]

[Correspondence of the Alta California]

Carson Valley, Sept. 21, 1850.

            Messrs. Editors:-- My last letter was dated from "Salmon Trout River."  I may have been mistaken in the name of the river.  I am now at the Mormon Station, Carson Valley.  That letter was written about 35 miles East of this place.  Since our arrival here, we have been prospecting on the East side of the valley, but so far, we have met with no success, although there are reports here (among the traders) of rich diggings in that quarter.  I believe there are rich diggings in the mountains around this valley, and also on Truckey River ; but they are hard to find, and I and another member of the party having business to attend to in Stockton, expect to leave to-morrow.  The balance of the party will remain a few days longer.  It is now pretty cold, and raining hard.  Winter, in the mountains, is close at hand.

            Three days ago, reports here were, that most of the immigrants, in consequence of a rumor of cholera on this side of the forty mile desert, had taken the route by Truckey River, from the Sink.  This route leads to the extreme Northern mines.—To-day, reports are that the Truckey route is so rugged that many had returned to the Sink, and the tide was turning this way again.  It is certain that many have taken the Truckey route.

            Times, on the Carson Valley route, are hard with the traders.  The market is overstocked with everything (particularly flour) except meat.  Beef, in order to kill, is scarce, and Pork sells at 75c.

            We are now camped at the Mormon Station, about half way down Carson Valley.  Last summer, about twenty Mormons, from Salt Lake, on their way to California, found gold on this side of the mountains, and built in Carson Valley two immense log houses, intending to winter here.  Changing their minds, they sold out to a trader named More, from Stockton.  Some have gone to the settlements in California, and others have returned to Salt Lake with stock, purchased from the immigrants.  Mr. More has learned from the Indians that snow is never more than a foot deep in Carson Valley, although the mountains are covered with it to a great depth ; and he intends to winter here if he can get up a party strong enough, in case of need, for defence against the Indians.  Gold will undoubtedly be found in quantities on this side of the mountains ; but setting aside this consideration, the Agricultural resources of this Valley will be sufficient to induce our people to settle it, and before many years it will support a large and thriving population.  The Indians of this region are not a very warlike race, and are not to be dreaded.  Fifty men, well armed, and living in log houses, would be safe.  The winter, I think, is not as severe as in many of our Northern States.  The Valley is about thirty miles long and from ten to fifteen miles wide.  The mountains are covered with pine timber, and every hundred yards along the whole extent of the Valley, a stream of pure, ice-cool water rushes from the mountain side, irrigating the bottom land, which produces a most luxuriant growth of grass.  On many of those streams there are excellent mill sites.  Mr. More, of the Mormon Station, has the construction of a saw and grist mill already in contemplation.  The soil is a rich alluvial, with a mixture of granite sand, washed from the mountains.  Here, then, is everything necessary for the support of an agricultural population.  Climate, soil, timberage, pasture and water.

            I may write again from Weberville or Placerville.

                        Yours truly,

R. Wilson.   

___________________

 

[Robert Wilson, Mr. Wilson's Correspondence, Alta California, October 9, 1850]

 

Mr. Wilson's Correspondence.

            Below we give another most interesting letter from our popular correspondent, written at Placerville upon his return from Carson Valley.

(Correspondence of the Alta California.)

Rain in the Mountains –– Suffering Among the Immigrant[s] –– Mortality in Placerville –– Water Cure.

Placerville, Sept. 30, 1850.

            Messrs. Editors : –– I arrived here to-day, having left Carson Valley on the 22d inst.  On the morning of the 21st it rained in Carson Valley, and showered all day and night.  On the evening of the 22d it rained again.  On the 23d it rained all day.  Towards night it blew hard and became intensely cold.  In a torrent of rain we cooked our supper, disposed of it hastily, and retired beneath a wagon cover, which we used for a tent, but it was soon carried off by the storm, which pelted pitilessly upon us all night.  Wet and cold we arose next morning, and started off without making a fire.  It rained until ten or eleven o'clock, but as we descended from the region of perpetual snow, the weather became gradually milder.  On the 23d it rained heavily, for a time, in this place.  The streams in the mountains appeared swolen [sic], and I should not be surprised to hear on a sudden rise in the rivers below.  During those three days of rain, there was much suffering in the mountains.  On the night of the 23d two men and a number of horses and oxen perished.

            This place is called Hangtown, from the fact that several persons were hung here last year for murder and robbery.  It is known by that name among the immigrants for five hundred miles back.  The constant inquiry along the road is, "how far is it to Hangtown?"  The Legislature has very properly changed the name to Placerville.  The buildings are mostly of pine timber, which is abundant in the surrounding mountains.  Many of these buildings are merely temporary constructions for winter.  They are strung along a creek, already pretty well exhausted of gold, for a distance of a mile.  There are probably some three or four thousand inhabitants in this place ; nearly all of whom are immigrants and arrived this season.–– This frontier town is two or three miles north of Weberville, and fifty miles east of Sacramento city.  The surrounding country is an auriferous region of hills and gulches, the yield of which does not, however, average over $2 to $3 dollars per day to the man.  It is a pity that the immigrants, instead of locating here, do not push on for the river bottom farming lands or for better diggings.  This is a poor region for farming.  There is much sickness in this place at present among the newly arrived immigrants.  The diseases are mostly dysentery, diarrhoea and fever ague.  Five or six die per day.  I noticed a hill completely covered with newly made graves.  It was a melancholy sight.  Fresh as the sod was, but few names were marked upon the boards above the graves.

            About a mile west of Placerville, a new town called Independence has been built within the last week or two.  At Mud Springs there is also quite a village.  A large portion of the immigrants it appears, intend to winter at Weberville, Diamond Springs, Placerville, Independence, Mud Springs and Georgetown.  I must mention a circumstance which occurred on the road between Carson Valley and this place.  A man with whom we traveled was taken with a severe attack of fever.–– Towards evening we arrived at Johnson's ranch, and at that time his fever was at its highest stage.  In great haste he got a tub of cold water, into which he dropped a cotton wagon cover.  He then stripped off, and (in a high state of fever, with a violent headache) he wrapped the wet wagon cover around his body, and lay perfectly quite [sic] for three quarters of an hour.  This way of treating fever was new to me, and I watched the symptoms.  Some cold water was poured on his head.  When he first got into the "wet sheet," his eyes were red and swolen, and his skin was dry as ashes.  In a short time a perspiration began to moisten his skin, and he told me he began to feel comfortable.  He was soon bathed in sweat, which streamed from every pore––his fever was subdued, and his headache ceased.  When he threw off the "wet sheet," he washed in cold water, rubbed his skin dry, dressed and appeared perfectly cured.–– He slept well that night, and was in perfect health next day.  This is the first evidence I have had of the advantage of the Water Cure.  The case was evidently one in which an allopathic doctor would have bled, and leeched and purged, and shaved the head, and blistered––a case to last a month or six weeks.  How simple and rational the Water Cure appears in this case ?  The science of medicine is of too much importance to humanity, to remain much longer in a state of uncertainty.–– The barbarisms and fallacies of a darker age, can no longer be forced upon the public as facts of modern science.

R. Wilson.

____________________

[Carson Valley Gold, Alta California, October 14, 1850]

            CARSON VALLEY GOLD.—We have received from our friend Mr. Wilson, who has just returned to Stockton, from the Carson Valley, a specimen of the gold found about thirty miles to the eastward of the valley. It is fine, but differs in appearance from the dust found on this side of the Nevada, being somewhat roughed. Mr. Wilson's party found no diggings on the other side of the Sierra, that would yield much more than $8 to $12 per day per man. The impression of Mr. Wilson appears to be that there are very rich diggings on the other side, but none so extensive as those upon this side, because there are no streams which can compare in extent with the Sacramento, and San Joaquin, and their tributaries. Wherever gold was found on the other side water was very scarce.