Gold Rush by Sea [Reprint 2016 ed.] 9781512804195

Table of contents :
Contents
EDITOR’S NOTE
I. Down the Atlantic
II. The Terrible Cape
III. Up the Pacific
IV. California
V. Postscript

Citation preview

GOLD RUSH BY SEA

FROM THE J O U R N A L

OF

GARRETT W. LOW

Gold Rush by Sea Edited by KENNETH HANEY

UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA PRESS Philadelphia 1941

Copyright 1941 UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA PRESS Manufactured

in the United

States

of

London Humphrey Milford Oxford University Press

America

Contents Chapter I

II

DOWN T H E A T L A N T I C

T H E TERRIBLE CAPE

Page I

82

III

U P T H E PACIFIC

113

IV

CALIFORNIA

157

Ν

POSTSCRIPT

185

.Illustrations by Edward Shenton

EDITOR'S NOTE MY grandfather, Garrett W . Low, was born in Pembroke, Genesee County, N e w York, in 1820. His brother Joel was five years his junior. During their boyhood the family moved to Erie, Pennsylvania. In the journal from which this account of his travels is drawn, Garrett Low speaks of the ship on which he and Joel sailed from New York as the Bassett. Evidently this was done to shield some of the persons involved, for in a later reminiscence he refers to it as "the old packet ship Washington Irvingand since the records of the port of N e w York show that the Washington Irving, Captain Plumer, cleared for San Francisco December 8, 1850, this name has been used in the account which follows. The ship John Bertram, which carried the Lows from Valparaiso to San Francisco, was a famous clipper which made a number of fast voyages from N e w York to California under Captain Frederick Lendholm. She later entered the China trade, and was abandoned at sea in 1883. I have attempted to identify Garrett Low's fellow passengers, but without success. Perhaps their names are fictitious. Κ. H. Downers Grove, March 31, 1941

Illinois

vi

I

Down the Atlantic November u, i8jo I AM now on board the steamboat Belle on Lake Erie starting the first leg of a trip to the gold fields of California via Buffalo, New York City, and around Cape Horn to San Francisco. With me is my brother, J. B. Low, Bob Miller, and Tad Church. We are all from Erie, Pennsylvania. I still think of the past, of all the friends that have taken me by the hand—and just taken me. I am too soft-hearted or too soft-headed, I don't know which, perhaps both. Loans to friends, yet unrepaid, would fill a rain barrel. But truly I will miss my good Father and Mother. They never borrow and give their loving kindness free of charge. I may be shipwrecked or find a fortune in bright yellow gold, but I pray to God the ship don't sink as I can't swim a stroke and catch cold very easily. One hour later Just came back from the deck where Tad had called me to meet a girl. Tad is highly impressionable and in this case found himself momentarily stopped short by a little yellowhaired thing no more than fourteen or fifteen. She had a childlike wistful expression that had tremendous pulling power. So much so, in fact, that it liked to have pulled I

GOLD RUSH BY SEA

2

T a d overboard when she lost her handkerchief in the lake. Had I not held him firmly by the sleeve he would have jumped over the side, I am sure. Tad is not bad It's the girl, not the lad. Her mother should have taught her Not to throw things in the water. Something really should be said about this boat, the Belle. It's my idea of a shipbuilder's nightmare. Undoubtedly it was someone's intention to build a craft that would safely navigate Lake Erie and I still think it's a good idea. But somewhere along the line things became sadly mixed. T h e two men working on the hull—it's a two man job throughout—suddenly decided to build a barn or perhaps a woodshed. This they did until about to put on the hinges f o r the door, they remembered the plan called for a ship. Hastily they nailed the sides together in the shape of a prow, slapped on a heavy coat of gray paint and the good ship Belle was born. And it rides no better than a halfsubmerged outhouse. Buffalo,

Neiv

York. November

12,

1850

W e are all in a bad humor. T h e trip on the Belle did us little good. She stopped at every port and it took us until nine tonight to jingle to this place. When Tad's pretty Miss got off the boat he fell into a state of suspended animation until I found him a drink and restored him to life. W e put up at the Huff Hotel, told the manager w e were from Erie and California bound. W e found him a friendly

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3

sort and the Huff a fine-looking house. W e had supper and were loafing around when we made a discovery. The Huff had Puffs! Smartly dressed young women very anxious to please. You Huff! Those Puffs Will pull your house down! W e were all falling into bad company in a light conversational sort of way when a little sawed-off man of sixty as bald as a tomato and about as red, rushed up to the demure little Puff J.B. held in conversation and began flinging curses in her teeth. "Where's my wallet?" he shouted excitedly, shaking his fists. The young lady did not reply but raised her skirts and rushed out of the hotel with the little man with the ripe tomato complexion in swift pursuit. He followed as fast as his short legs could take him, shouting more or less unflattering terms as he shot out after her into the street. Finding that the cars for Albany did not leave until twelve we took a stroll down to the steamboat Niagara where we found our friends Phil and Seth Clark. They gave us a word of parting advice, well mixed with a little sweetened Cognac to take off the wire edge. Tad had his likeness taken to send home and he says if it looks like he feels it will create a family panic. Our time being up we bid goodbye to the boys and left in the cars for Albany.

4

GOLD RUSH BY SEA

Albany, New York. November

13,

1850

Right here I'll stop and let go some home-grown poetry: The iron horse with magic speed Went pulling o'er the plain, And everywhere the horsey went There also went the train. N o w I feel better. When I feel a verse or two festering in my system there's nothing to do but stop and get it out. Some folks are bothered with blackheads. M y trouble is poetry. Brother and I arrived in this town today at one o'clock, Tad and Miller getting left in Amsterdam where they stopped to get something to eat. The boys being a little slow in making change, the cars started. They gave chase for a while and tried to run the old fellow down but it was no go; they blew off steam and waited for the next train, which arrived at three. W e soon found our cousins, who were very glad to see us, showing us every attention in their power and urging us to stay longer in their town, but our baggage was conveyed on the Rip Van Winkle, which was to leave for New York City at eight p. m. They went with us to the boat, introduced us to Captain Tanner, gave us a last farewell and we were off. New York City. November

14, 1850

Today I saw thousands of N e w Yorkers gather in and around City Hall Park to catch an ox that had broken loose from its master. The crowd would run after the mad bull, as they called him, as long as he would run. Enough to frighten

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5

the very Devil himself. When the ox made a rush they ran back in a hurry. At last, a brave man on a horse rode near enough to throw a rope over the bull's horns and he was rescued with no lives lost. During the excitement J.B.'s pockets were picked. Brother was even madder than the bull. He swore he'd kill the man who did it. When I said it might well have been a woman, he calmed down. J.B. would never harm a female. New York City. November 18, 1850 Today our party numbers one less. The news from California not being as favorable as one might wish, Tad said he would not go and left us to take care of ourselves. Well, I can't forget how he looked when that pretty Miss on the Belle got off. He was a sick man. I wouldn't wonder if he spends a little time trying to look her up. Good luck, Tad. I hope you find her. New York City. November 19, 1850 Today we secured our tickets for a first cabin passage in the ship Washington Irving, around Cape Horn to California. She is to sail December first. Winsted, Connecticut. Saturday, November 23, 1850 This morning at eight, friend Miller and I, to kill time, jumped aboard the cars on the Nautuck road and arrived here at two p. m. I regret to say that this is the worst-looking town I have ever seen. The men look as hard as nails and the few women that I have seen try to start something, I am not sure what. The town is dirty and is a wreck.

6

GOLD RUSH BY SEA

Sunday, November

24, 1850

I heard an old Methodist preacher deliver a sermon from the words: "The harvest is passed, the summer is ended and we are not saved." Monday, November

25, i8$o

I have been to all the manufactories in town. The way they rattle out scythes is not slow. The workmen do justice to their profession. I went to the nut factory and saw the old wheel that knocked the cap off friend Harmon's elbow. They have excellent water power here, and that is about all you can say for the town. W e stayed in Winsted until the twenty-eighth, when we returned to N e w York by way of Hartford. W e arrived in this place the twenty-ninth. Sunday, December 8, 1850 All things being ready we went on board the ship Washington Irving, commanded by Samuel Plumer, a short, chubby individual with cold blue eyes and a slit of a mouth. The ship was hitched on to by two small steamers, but finding them not equal to the task of taking us out, we came to anchor off Staten Island. I now have a chance to look about the ship that will be my home for many days. On the main deck is half a dozen extra masts and yards to use in case ours are carried away by storm. The ship carries four small boats in case we spring a leak or are wrecked. Our trunks and baggage, in fact everything else, is lashed fast to keep them from tumbling about the ship. There are fifty-three persons on board, all told. Ten first-

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7

cabin passengers. I met two of them, a Mr. and Mrs. Whippet from Boston. T h e y are bound for Frisco. Mr. Whippet is a tall, raw-boned man I judge to be about sixty, and his wife a peach-and-cream complected young woman of not over thirty. Mrs. Whippet is the most "bubbly" young woman I have ever met. I hadn't known her two minutes before she was bubbling over with information, about herself, her husband, her love of adventure, her excitement, her mixed feelings at leaving her friends. It took Mr. Whippet fully ten minutes to stop her bubbling before she told his age, how much money he was worth, and that he had a glass eye. Mr. Whippet kindly introduced me to two other firstcabin passengers, a Professor Dodd and Rev'd Thome. Both men made apt remarks concerning two young women seen walking about the deck arm in arm. Rev'd Thorne observed that they did not look like churchgoing people. All Dodd had to say was that they were goodlooking animals of the genus homo species with apparently very little living matter in the upper half of the interior of the skull. Their jaw muscles, he added, seemed to be well developed. There are fourteen second-class passengers, and the rest are officers, sailors, stewards, and cooks. Mrs. Whippet's "bubble" about Captain Plumer is that he looks like Napoleon Bonaparte, enough to be Nappy himself.

8

GOLD RUSH BY SEA

Monday, December ¡1, ¡850. Latitude 39 degrees, 20 minutes, North. Longitude 65 degrees 48 minutes, West W e weighed anchor today at nine a. m. There being a gentle breeze we hoisted our sails and were soon rising and falling on the deep swell of the open sea. As we roll along, white sails bellying in the wind, I am touched for the first time with homesickness and the blues. A poem of Longfellow's comes to mind. It begins something like this: Filled is Life's goblet to the brim; And though my eyes with tears are dim, I see its sparkling bubbles swim, And chant a melancholy hymn . . . I can't chant or even sing worth a nickel but I feel that perhaps I am looking on my native shore for the last time. And this land now fast vanishing from my view holds all that is dear to me in life. Who can tell when he sets out to wander where he may be driven? Later Our ship has now assumed a motion somewhere between the swing cradle and baby-jumper; and I begin to have a very foul stomach. When I returned to my cabin I began to feel sick, as everything I had eaten seemed to have lost its gravitation. Frostrate upon the cabin floor The traveler lies with stomach sore And utters many groans pathetic While undergoing his emetic.

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9

His head is swimming, eyesight obscure, More of this he carìt endure. He, like one drunk beneath the table, Tries to rise but is not able. The ship now rolling, now she's jumping His liver against his heart is thumping. The carpet gets the empty cargo, He must discharge, spite of embargo. His mind is full of fancies drear, Shipwreck he sees. Death hovering near, But still by fear he's not oppressed, He looks on death expecting rest. And faintly opens his glassy eye, And prays to God that he may die. Saturday, December 14, A.D. 1850 I have been sick for five days and know very little that has been going on. When I did climb on deck about ten o'clock this morning I heard someone cry out: "Sail ho!" "Where away?" "On our bow, sir!" W e made all the sail our ship would carry, and gave chase. W e soon came near enough to see what she was. W e found her to be a ship of equal size and strength of our own, and probably bound for the same port. On seeing us after her, she crowded on sail and kept out of our way. All were excited on board. Mrs. Whippet was all but carried away by her own bubbles, Mr. Whippet looked frightened in spite of his rugged appearance. Rev'd Thorne

IO

GOLD RUSH BY SEA

came over to where I was holding to the edge of a lifeboat and said: "Brother Low, what do you think of this racing business? " " I don't like it," I said, quickly. " M y stomach's revolving like a pinwheel. Captain Plumer should have better sense." Rev'd Thorne nodded. "I'm afraid we can't expect much from a person of his composition. Just look at the way he's laughing with those two girls, and the ship nearly—" The foamy tip of a wave filled his mouth and cut short his speech, but I had already seen the captain and the girls. He seemed to have taken a great fancy to them and settled down to race in dead earnest. W e kept in sight all day, neither gaining or losing. Captain Plumer seemed determined to either win or drown us all. Sunday, December 15, 1850. Latitude 33 degrees, min. North. Longitude 48 degrees 25 min. West. Air 70, water 70 Today we have a head wind which throws us two points off our course. W e are making about five knots an hour. Sunday all amusements are laid aside and we have nothing to do but read and reflect and listen to a sermon. Rev'd Thorne, wearing a black tailored coat, preached from the text: "Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin."—James iv. 17. I found out the name of "the two girls." They are sisters, Miss Lilly and Fay Barkley. Both are very good to look at. Lilly is the older of the two, about twenty I should judge, and Fay not over eighteen. They are traveling alone from Peekskill, New York, to Frisco where their father is waiting for them.

DOWN THE ATLANTIC

Monday, December 16, i8$o Wind and weather the same as yesterday. Making five knots, two points off our course. A brig passed us, but could not make out her name. Professor Dodd does not like Rev'd. Thome. He says Thome has the mind of a sea-squirt. He will never listen to another of his sermons. The human race, Dodd went on to explain, is made up of just three kinds of humans; the seasquirt type (Thome), the oyster type (Mr. Whippet), and the flatfish or flounder type (Captain Plumer and Fay Barkley). After thus summing up the human race, Dodd retired to his cabin. I wonder if he classes me as a sea-squirt?

Tuesday, December 17, ¡850 W e have almost a calm today. What little wind we have is ahead. I understand our First Mate, Mr. Riggs, is quite taken up with Miss Fay Barkley. He has been showing her about the ship, explaining how she sails, the names of the sails and rigging. J.B. and I are playing a game of Round the Horn Cribbage. The game will end when we dock in San Francisco. Brother Joel is a very good player and is now ahead by a few points.

Wednesday, December 17, 1850. Latitude degrees, 29 minutes North. Longitude degrees, 10 minutes West The wind was in our teeth until noon, when it hauled to the south and we moved along swiftly. Today our pastry for

12

GOLD RUSH BY SEA

dinner consisted of Kobabola, being something new to me I noticed it. It is made in this fashion: Roll a crust thin, spread a thick coat of apple sauce, roll up, close both ends, put in a bag and boil like a pudding. It is quite good when eaten with sweetened sauce. Today we saw a whale spout or blow for the first time. I find that my idea of whale spouting is something in error. Instead of filling his mouth with sea water and belching it up through a hole in the top of his head, it seems that the animal only blows out its natural breath, which forms a spray looking very much like water. Well, that's one on me. Three hours later Rev'd Thorne and Professor Dodd have been having it hot and heavy about whales. It all started when I remarked that Jonah must have been very uncomfortable riding on the whale's soft palate with all that draft back of his neck every time the animal spouted. Professor Dodd said that it depended on what kind of whale Jonah had booked passage; if the beaked or ziphioid species he would have been very fortunate to have lived if he got by the bristles around his mouth when the whale gobbled him up, if the spiked or goose-beaked whale, Jonah would have been dead in two minutes. Anyway, the idea of a man living in the belly or mouth of a whale was fantastic. Rev'd Thome's face became red and he demanded to know whether the Professor admitted the existence of miracles. Dodd said that depended on what you called a miracle. I did all I could to undo the mischief I had started, but the

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13

argument continued some time before J.B. managed to get T h o m e interested in a book he had purchased in N e w York about California. I held my breath for fear the annoyed Professor would call Thorne a sea-squirt to his face, but that didn't happen. On deck, Dodd and I saw Fay Barkley and Captain Plumer laughing and talking together. Thursday, December 19, ¡850 What wind we had today was an ill wind, but it did not trouble us long as it has died down and left us a calm. Captain Plumer is put out about the lack of wind and I think he has been drinking. He is a peculiar man, everyone admits, pleasant and talkative one minute and gruff and surly the next. H e spends much of his time in his cabin, which is the largest on the ship, while Mr. Riggs, the First Mate, takes command. Miss Fay Barkley is Captain Plumer's favorite and Rev'd Thorne thinks she should be warned. A beautiful young creature like her, he said, unaccompanied by a guardian, will be a great temptation, a very great temptation indeed to every man on board not possessing the highest moral character. When I suggested that her sister Lilly seemed to be with her most of the time, he said this was not enough. She needs a male protector, a chaperon. It would be terrible if she were seduced. Something in his voice made me glance at his face. It was red as a turkey gobbler's, flushed to his white collar, and the look in his eyes was hot and burning.

GOLD RUSH BY SEA

14

Friday, December 20, 1850. Lat. 32 deg. 19 min. North. Long. 40 deg. 20 ηήη. West A wind from the east throws us off our course again. W e are braced up sharp and run within six points of the wind. W e saw t w o more whales today but had no arguments, thank goodness. Mrs. Whippet, in a confidential bubble, told J . B . that she thought F a y was " f a s t . " L i l l y , however, was all right.

Saturday, December 21, 1850 W i n d still ahead. Weather fine. W e had a little excitement on board today. A passenger f r o m the second cabin, k n o w n here as Massachusetts, went aloft to see what he could see. W h e n a f e w of the Jacks followed him up with their spunyarn, f o u r made him fast. Fortunately f o r him, however, he had a quantity of maple sugar on board with which he purchased his liberty, maple sugar being the finest kind of candy. W e saw today one whale and some flying fish. J . B . told me this morning he heard someone come in the Barkley girls' cabin last night. It is next to ours, and he said Lilly was giving the Devil to F a y in so loud a voice he could hear about all she said, which was plenty. But actually just what happened remains a mystery. T h e r e is no doubt but that F a y is something of a coquette, but I don't think she would allow anyone to take liberties with her.

Sunday, December 22, 1850. Latitude 32 Degrees. 48 min. North. Longitude 39 Degrees 60 min. West Weather is fine, with occasional squalls f o r variety.

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ij

Rev'd. Thome delivered a lengthy sermon from the text: "Speak, Lord; for Thy servant heareth."—I SAM., iii, 9. Professor Dodd was not among those present. Captain Plumer was also absent. Rev'd Thorne came to our cabin and talked seriously to J.B. and I about morals. In the mood brother Joel and I were in, any other topic would have been infinitely preferable. We shut him off after ten or fifteen minutes and got him talking about poetry. "That," said Thorne, "is my forte, Longfellow I know almost by heart. He's wonderful." I know a bit of Longfellow myself and challenged him to name the poems from the first lines I recited. He accepted. I gave J.B. my Longfellow book to act as judge and I began: 1 heard the trailing garments of the night Sweep through her marble halls. Rev'd. Thorne called out: "Hymn T o The Night." "Correct," said Joel. And it was correct all the way until, after naming " A Psalm of Life," "The Reaper and the Flowers," "The Wreck of the Hesperus," and "The Village Blacksmith," he tripped up on the following lines: Maiden! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Like the dusk in evening skies! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one, As the braided streamlets run!

16

GOLD RUSH BY SEA

Yes, he tripped up, and when, after a prolonged pause, Joel announced the title to be "Maidenhood," he blushed for the second time and grew as red as a turkey gobbler. Monday, December 25, 1850. Latitude. No Long. 38 deg. 10 min. West

observation.

Becalmed this morning. Our ship is rolling and tumbling over the swell caused by the squalls of yesterday, without any regard for the man at the wheel. While we were becalmed here, a whale came swimming under and around our ship, giving us a good chance to view his huge form. I asked Professor Dodd, who was standing by my side, whether it was a zip-a-hoy or a goose-beaked type. He only laughed. "Mr. Low," he said later, "you are the oyster type of man. You snap shut on everything that falls within your grasp. If you find gold in California, it certainly won't get away from you." Well, at least, I'm not a sea-squirt! By three o'clock a light breeze had sprung up from the south and we were again on our way. I didn't see Fay or Lilly all day. Tuesday, December 24,

i8jo

Wind steady all day with occasional showers. Rev. Thorne dropped in to have a chat this afternoon. W e began talking about Christmas, and Thorne gave us a great spiel about the origin of the Christmas carol. He said that in the early days it was the custom of bishops on Christmas to sing carols among their clergy. The first pious song of

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this type, he told us, was the "Gloria in Excelsis." After Thorne had left, J.B. screwed up his face into a wry smile and said that I should not be alarmed if shortly after midnight I was awakened by someone singing a Christmas carol. Just before he left our cabin, Thorne confided that Mrs. Whippet had told him that Captain Plumer had the brass to ask Fay Barkley to hang her stockings up in his cabin! This I take to be a damn lie.

Christmas Day, 1850 Christmas is here—without a carol—and finds me alive and well, 2,500 miles from N e w York City and 3,000 miles from home. One year ago today I was fighting a strong headwind taking J.B. down to Mooreheadville. W e stopped at Wm. Bealey's and enjoyed a good dance that night, after which I returned home, quite sober. For some strange reason this ship seems completely devoid of any kind of cheerful spirit. It is as though some dark and horrible fate awaits us all in the near future. As though we were quietly sailing to our deaths. I would to God Rev'd Thorne would sing a carol. It might break the spell and cheer us all up. Even the sailors are glum. As for Fay Barkley, she can hang her stockings in my cabin any night, not just Christmas. I'm going to bed.

December 26, 1850. hat. 25 deg. 33 min. North. Long. 30 deg. 44 min. West Wind steady from the south and we are moving along at a brisk clip. A French brig crossed our track today,

18

GOLD RUSH BY SEA

bound for the West Indies. We shook our Stars and Stripes at her and she hoisted her Blue, White, and Red. Our cabin has become something of a clubroom. Almost every night we have one or more guests, usually it's Rev'd Thome, Professor Dodd, or Mr. Whippet. Capt'n Plumer stuck his head in the door, once J.B. was there alone. Looking for Fay Barkley, no doubt, but in the wrong place, positively. Tonight Professor Dodd dropped in for a chat. Talked about how nice a girl Fay really was, then switched the subject to his favorite topic—pirates. It was on this very day of the month, he told us, in the year 1680, that a pirate named John Coxon and his crew set about dividing five hundred pounds of silver and gold stolen from the city of La Serena. The place where the division was made was the Island of Juan Fernandez. The Professor grew very enthusiastic, claiming that pirate gold was as good and as valuable as any found in California. T o this both J.B. and I readily agreed. The trouble was to find it. Professor Dodd smiled. At the door he paused and said, "Fay Barkley would look might pretty with a solid gold necklace studded with diamonds about her neck!" Then he closed the door and was gone, leaving us struck dumb with amazement. Friday, December 27, /tfjo A foul trick was played on a member of our company today.

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Mr. Whippet complained to Captain Plumer that w e had had no Christmas dinner worth mentioning and wished to know if the holidays were to be passed with no fitting observance whatsoever. A t first the Captain was vexed and swore that he was master of the ship and would act as he saw fit. A f t e r a moment's reflection, however, he agreed to allow the passengers and crew to play a game known as " K i n g . " W e were to assemble on the fore deck at two o'clock. A t the appointed time the deck was thronged with passengers, crowding around a crude throne formed of boards covered with canvas. On each side of the throne sat two sailors. Captain Plumer announced that each one should call out his choice f o r King and Mr. Riggs would keep tally. I received 9 votes, brother J.B. 4, Professor Dodd 14, Rev'd Thorne 22, and Mr. Whippet 29. T h e Captain and officers and crew not being eligible [for office] though they voted. A f t e r Captain Plumer and Mr. Riggs had announced the results of the vote, four sailors, forming a guard of honor, escorted Mr. Whippet to his throne. Mrs. Whippet was frantic with joy. She danced up and down like a schoolgirl, clapping her hands and "bubbling" f o r all she was worth. Fay Barkley, glowing and breathless with excitement, kept close to her sister's side. With his back now to the throne, flanked on either side b y two sailors standing at attention, Mr. Whippet faced Captain Plumer as he listened to Mr. Riggs make a speech.

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GOLD RUSH BY SEA

T h e passengers and crew, said Mr. Riggs, could not have picked a more fitting man for King. A t this remark, Mr. Whippet's scrawny features became sharpened with pride. T h e green paper crown Captain Plumer placed on his head gave him a hawkish, regal look not entirely unbecoming. A f t e r Mr. Riggs concluded his speech, Captain Plumer stepped forward and raised his hand. " T h e King may be seated!" he said. A n d Mr. Whippet sat down. H e sat down between the sailors on his canvas-covered throne and instantly sank up to his waist in water! T h e canvas merely covered a tub and Mr. Whippet, amid roars of laughter from Captain Plumer and the crew, splashed about and finally struggled to his feet, wringing wet. Mrs. Whippet rushed to his side and hurried him aft, a trail of water marking his departure. A s they disappeared down the companionway I turned and looked at Fay Barkley. She was gazing at Captain Plumer with an expression of concentrated hate I have never before seen in a woman's eyes. What will come of this foul trick I do not know. Rev'd T h o m e ' s reaction was one of shocked amazement. Professor Dodd said it was to be expected from a man of the flatfish or flounder type. H e also indulged in a little vote-juggling with Mr. Riggs, the First Mate, as the total votes cast showed 78 while there are only 53 persons on board, all told! J.B. reminds me that today is Friday, always an unlucky

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day, and that a rat has been gnawing his clothes in his locker, which is a certain sign of death. Saturday, December 28, 1850 Trouble seems to have already overtaken us. About three p. m. the sky began to darken and our barometer indicated a nasty blow. All hands were called and she was put about before the wind struck her. It came soon, however, with a roar and a rush and we ran before it at a fearful rate. The sailors were all in the rigging taking in sail. The lightning played about the masts, the thunder was deafening loud. In a short time we were running 9 knots under bare poles. This evening, after the storm had somewhat subsided, Rev'd Thome came to our cabin bearing bad news. He had been to see Mr. Whippet and had found him ill in his bunk and his good wife in tears. Her husband, she had told him, never had been strong. In fact they were going to California to consult Dr. Barnes. N o w he was seriously ill, due to Captain Plumer's joke. The ducking had been too much. She knew he was going to die. It was terrible, she blubbered. Rev'd Thome pointed out that when our time comes we all have to go and that we should make the best of it. The plunge into the tub full of water notwithstanding. The Lord's ways were mysterious ways. He would, he told Mrs. Whippet, try and find the Captain and talk to him about her husband's condition. She thanked him and he went on deck though it was blowing a gale. He was unable to find the Captain, but spoke to the

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GOLD RUSH BY SEA

First Mate, Mr. Riggs. Riggs, with bitter sarcasm in his voice, had told him to go below and mind his business. Neither he nor the Captain had time to listen to gossip. A man that was so weak that he became sick after falling in a tub of water ought to die. Such men were not fit to live. Rev'd T h o m e then went on to relate that the First Mate had used abusive language and made insinuating remarks concerning he and Fay Barkley to the effect that Fay was playing him for a fool and that if he didn't stop talking to her Captain Plumer was going to string him up from the yard arm. At this point, T h o m e arose and bidding us good night, left our cabin. I earnestly hope our deposed " K i n g " does not die, at least for another twenty years. Tuesday, December

1850. Latitude 16 deg. 70 min.

T w o serious things occurred today. About four p. M. a sudden squall carried our fore topgallant mast away and a young sailor was lost overboard. One of the men threw him a coil of rope but he seemed unable to reach it and was borne away. He shouted twice but was not heard or seen again. A boat was lowered and cruised about for half an hour but the crew were unable to find him. T h e y were recalled by Captain Plumer and we continued on our course. Mr. Whippet is now seriously ill. H e moans and tosses in his bunk, raving like a madman, at times speaking as though he were a king addressing his subjects and then,

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breaking off, curses himself for a fool. His poor wife is frantic. Rev'd Thome's prayers for the poor man's recovery remain unanswered. Captain Plumer and Professor Dodd are the only two men on board that have any knowledge of medicine and poor Whippet will not allow either of them in his cabin, Captain Plumer because he is the cause of all his troubles and the Professor because he once made a slighting remark about his ungainly appearance. Mr. Riggs and the Second Alate, Mr. Lester, now run the ship. N o one knows what to expect next as the Captain has locked himself in his cabin and will admit no one.

Wednesday, January ι, ι8$ι This morning I wished all my friends a Happy N e w Year though I fear I may never live to see this one out. W e have been put on allowances of water caused by the failure of a machine the proprietors put on board for distilling fresh water from salt water. Our Captain has no soul. He has a complete repair kit for this machine locked up in his cabin but will not allow anyone to touch it. Our quarter deck is 75 feet long. On this deck we walk, sit, and lie. There are thirty to forty people on it all day. It is the Captain's duty to provide water f o r his passengers and crew. This evening it rained lightly and w e caught the water in pans and drank it.

January 6, 1851. Latitude 2 deg. 36 min. Ν. Longitude deg. 5 min. W. It is very warm. T h e tar is oozing from every rope. T h e deck is hot enough to bake pancakes. W e caught a little

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more water this morning but we are gradually dying of thirst. Three of us went to speak to the Captain. Professor Dodd, Rev'd Thorne, and myself. H e let us in. H e held a cup of water in his hand, it looked clear and fresh. H e asked us what we wanted. W e told him the conditions, that everyone was suffering terribly and that if he had new parts for the machine we could replace them. Could we have the parts? No. W e asked the reason he refused us. He said he had many reasons. H e drank from the cup and then ordered us out. W e went without a word. This evening a slight breeze sprang up to tantalize our parched throats. N o one can understand Captain Plumer's strange action. W e spend hours trying to discover a way to make him give us the parts. W e play cards almost continually now. T h e women stay below deck. Mrs. Whippet doesn't say a word but sits beside her husband staring at his emaciated face. I fear she has lost her reason. Professor Dodd went forward to talk to Mr. Riggs and found him in great spirits but unwilling to talk about our position. Somehow the officers and crew seem to be getting water. Even the second-class passengers seem to be much better off. One does not realize the need of water until deprived of it. I am thankful now that Bob Miller and Tad Church are not with us. It is 81 in both air and water but feels to be about a hundred. The Second Mate, Mr. Lester, joined us in a game of

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cards. H e is a poor player but we let him win repeatedly to put him in good spirits. After a time he began to talk and joke and carry on at a great rate. H e said it was too bad that one person should cause so many innocent people to suffer. J.B. asked him who he meant. H e said Miss Barkley. Fay Barkley? Yes. What had she to do with it? He smiled but refused to talk any more about it. A f t e r another hand around he withdrew, bade us all good night and went on deck. A f t e r talking the matter over we decided that one of us should approach Fay and ask for an explanation. I drew the lowest card and arose and went to her cabin. Lilly opened the door. She told me Fay was helping Mrs. Whippet care for her sick husband. I returned to our cabin feeling that I had done m y share, but all others thought otherwise. W e all drew cards again, however, and for the second time I was low man. I found Fay with Mrs. Whippet. A f t e r talking about the sick man's condition for a few minutes I came out frankly and told her what our Second Mate had said. I asked her if there was any truth in what he had said. T o this she did not reply directly but said Mr. Lester had spoken to her and that she had nothing to say. I returned to our cabin where, after discussing the matter for some time, Professor Dodd and Rev'd Thorne withdrew and J.B. and I went to bed.

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January 7, 1851 Almost a dead calm. The weather is hot. I saw several blackfish today at a distance. They are about 14 feet long. W e tried to catch a shark with a hook. He followed us for hours and didn't have to go a great way either. Shortly after noon while we were on deck dividing our allowance of water, Mr. Lester came aft and spoke to Fay Barkley. The Captain, he told her, wanted to see her in his cabin. Would she go at once? No. She would not go at all. At this remark Mr. Lester in his anger kicked over the cask that contained all our precious supply of water. Professor Dodd flew at him and Lester knocked him senseless with his fists. J.B. and I carried him to our cabin. Later I have just returned from the Barkley cabin. I talked to Lilly, as Fay refused to speak. Lilly remarked that Mr. Lester acted as messenger for Captain Plumer. There was no use talking, nothing could be done. Fay was quite right in refusing to see the Captain. I told them that we now had no more water and that unless Mr. Whippet received at least a mouthful tonight he would be dead before morning. A t this Fay's eyes filled with tears and she fell on her sister's shoulder crying pitifully. It was a heart-rending sight to see such a lovely creature racked with anguish. It was then that Lilly told me to tell Rev'd Thorne they wished to speak to him.

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The clergyman seemed astonished. H e had me repeat everything that had occurred in their cabin from the time I entered to the moment I left. "I dare not go," he said in a trembling voice. "Captain Plumer has threatened to have me hung from the nearest yard arm if I so much as speak to Fay." "Talk to Lilly, then," I suggested. "There is no order against that." He thought for a moment in silence. At last, with considerable uncertainty and fear he went to the Barkley cabin. W e had arranged that when he had discovered what was wished of him he should return to our cabin where we might discuss the matter at length. He was gone nearly an hour and when he returned he closed and locked the door. When he turned around I saw that his face was as red as a cock's comb. "Well," Professor Dodd demanded in a voice agitated with pain, "what did you find out? Speak up, don't stand there like a sea-squirt!" Rev'd T h o m e was too excited to notice the insult. H e blurted out the cause of our terrible predicament in hesitant syllables. Lilly, her face burning with shame, had told him that Captain Plumer wished to lie with Fay and would not release the parts to repair the distilling machine until he did! Since his first request for her to come to his cabin, he has sent our Second Mate, Mr. Lester, to discover if she had changed her mind. She had not and would not. Now that her friends were about to die for lack of water what should she do? As a Christian man and a minister of the

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gospel she was appealing to him for guidance and advice. Rev'd Thorne gave her no direct answer but said he would think the matter over and return later. In the mean time she should spend her time in meditation and prayer. Now, standing before us, his face flushed and in a faltering voice he asked our serious opinions. What, to our way of thinking, should be done? According to the scriptures he could not allow, much less assist a woman to become a whore. Such conduct was utterly unthinkable. The Lord had severely punished the daughters of Moab for their wanton conduct, and Moses told the judges of Israel to slay every one of the men joined unto Baal-peor. Professor Dodd remarked that Moses was not at the moment a passenger on board the Irving and if he were, Captain Plumer reserved the right to do all the slaying. This was, he explained, not a problem in biblical morality. It was rather the case of an adipose and somewhat dropsical male inflamed by the daily sight of and association with a young and unusually well-proportioned animal of the opposite sex. "It might be remarked," he added, "that since the Captain has under lock and key all the firearms, there is little to be gained by trying to use force or violence to crush his desire to ravish Miss Barkley." "In your opinion, then," Rev'd Thorne said, "she should be sacrificed for the common good." "I see no other way at the moment." At this point J.B. had a happy thought. "Why not first unite Captain Plumer and Fay Barkley in marriage?" he said. "Reverend Thorne, you can perform the ceremony."

DOWN THE ATLANTIC Nothing better came to light, so Thorne returned to talk to Fay. He came back, his face glum and a look of defeat in his eyes. She would have nothing to do with Captain Plumer. He was an obnoxious, hateful, repulsive brute. She would not go as a lamb to the slaughter for the public or common good. W h y hadn't he taken a fancy to someone else? There was no use talking, she had made up her mind. As there seemed nothing more could be said, Thorne had withdrawn and returned to our cabin. This is the situation now, as we have all decided to go to bed thirsty as it is past midnight. January 8,

i8ji

Coming on deck this morning we found a large cask of fresh water from which we all drank greedily. Halfcovered with a piece of old sail were the parts to repair the distilling machine. At first, seeing Fay Barkley as calm and collected as usual, I could not understand what had occurred. Had Captain Plumer suddenly come to his senses? I went below, taking a cup of water, to talk to Professor Dodd. T h e Professor knew no more than I. When I told him of seeing Fay Barkley on deck and how perfectly poised and beautiful she looked, he remarked that it was quite possible for a young woman to engage in a night-long tourney of love and appear quite composed and attractive the next morning. From Miss Barkley's personal appearance one could conclude absolutely nothing. Though she had told Rev'd Thorne she considered Cap-

3

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tain Plumer an obnoxious brute, it was perfectly possible for her to have capitulated upon a later demand and surrendered. At any rate we had water to drink, Mr. Whippet's life was no doubt saved, and a like condition would not again arise as we had the necessary parts to repair the machine for purifying sea water. N o t a word should be said about the matter by anyone. It would not only be in very bad taste, but Fay's temperament seemed to be such that she would not hesitate to have those offensive to her put ashore on a deserted isle or shot in cold blood on the quarter deck by Captain Plumer himself. Fay Barkley, he cautioned, like the Captain, was of the flatfish or flounder type. N o t knowing whether to take the Professor's remarks seriously or not, I returned to my cabin and talked to J.B. It was not until late in the afternoon that we missed Fay's sister, Lilly Barkley. Rev'd Thorne and I were about to spread the alarm when the true answer dawned upon us. It was Lilly, not Fay, that made the sacrifice. Slowly, bit by bit, the word got around. By sundown everyone knew, even the second-cabin passengers and the sailors. Lilly Barkley had become Captain Plumer's mistress. And as the news spread, so a feeling of bitter resentment passed from mouth to mouth. H e was a blackguard, an insolent, unprincipled beast. T h e ship should be put about immediately and headed for Rio de Janeiro where he should be locked in prison and the ship reprovisioned. T h e situation was entirely of his own creation. Hadn't

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he deliberately withheld repairs, driving by thirst and burning heat an innocent young girl into his arms? But with all the talk nothing was done. Beautiful purple fish followed in our easy wake as we held to our course hour after hour. January 9, 1851. Latitude 00.