Part 3

Thus, after remaining eight days at Merced, where I was fully engaged each day in inspecting the lands for sale and the country around for many miles, and after allowing for stoppages on the return journey over Sundays, and waiting three days at New York for the Cunard steamer "Servia," I reached Liverpool on January 4th, and was back again in my office on Monday, January 5th, being six weeks, one day and 22 hours from the time I rose from my chair in my office to the time I was sitting in it again.

=Across America.=

LONDON TO CHICAGO.

Travelling in generations past was an important event in one's life, but now a journey across an ocean and a continent is a very commonplace affair. Books of travel used to be read with avidity, but now that so many persons travel, and the wires keep us in touch with all the world every day, the history of a journey is a small event, and one which to those not specially interested would scarcely perhaps be read; nevertheless, as some of my readers may have to go over some of the ground I have recently traversed, I have no doubt that a reference to my journey to California and back would be of interest to them, and therefore I will give up some time and space to the subject.

This little record of my journey may perhaps be better received if I state that I am not a novice in travel, and that before I had turned twenty-one years of age I had been to Australia (calling en route at Pernambuco in South America), and that while in Australia I visited Melbourne, Sydney, Geelong, King George's Sound, besides various inland towns and gold fields, including Bendigo, Castlemaine, Tarrangower, Fryer's Creek, Forest Creek, Campbell's Creek, Tarradale, Maryborough, etc., and various other places, and sheep and cattle stations. From Australia I went to Aden (the inland town) and up the Red Sea to Suez, returning to Australia, and thence to England. Since I commenced business in England, in 1859, I went in 1862 to St. Thomas' in the West Indies, thence to Aspinwall, across the Isthmus to Panama, thence to Acapulco in Mexico, on to San Francisco in California, and thence to Vancouver Island, returning by the same route as far as Aspinwall, whence I went to New York. In 1865 I went on business to Russia. Arriving at the ancient city of Pskov, I proceeded across country to the estate of my client, the Count Bogouschefsky, at one time private Secretary to the Emperor Nicholas (grandfather of the present Czar). Some of these travels were attended with a good deal of adventure; but my recent journey from England to California and back, 13,774 miles, in six weeks (including all stoppages), was all work, for my time was occupied continuously in reading up the country, learning from old settlers, and making notes of what I saw, some of which I have found room for in the following pages.

On November 22nd, 1890, I was at work in my office in Lincoln's Inn Fields, whence a cab depositing me at Euston, the 10.10 express train soon ran me down to Liverpool (201 miles), whence a steam "tender" took me from the landing-stage to the Cunard steamship "Etruria," some two miles off, where I was soon comfortably located in my "state room" (No. 42).

It was nearly 5 o'clock before we got away, and the next day found us at Queenstown Harbour, where we lost considerable time in waiting for the mail. At length the mail, which was a heavy one, was safely on board, and off we went, head on to the Atlantic. During that night of the 23rd we experienced a heavy gale; big seas broke over the forecastle, and flooded the decks below, through the ventilators. The A.B.'s declined venturing on the forecastle to unship these great ventilators, and so the engines had to be slowed down, and the ship stopped; the ventilators were then unshipped, and we proceeded. The night was a bad one, and the next morning we had not got through it, and as a consequence the decks were like lagoons; but presently we had run through it, or it had run away from us, or had expended its energy, and we were in comparatively smooth waters, and had a comfortable run to New York. Nothing of particular interest occurred during the passage. I sought and found the old American settlers amongst the passengers, and obtained from them all the information I could of the country, and especially the State to which I was going. I read "General" Booth's "Darkest England," and wrote a review of it, which duly appeared in the "Land Roll."

The "Etruria" is a fine ship. She has a commodious saloon, music and reading room, plenty of deck space for exercise, comfortable cabins, bath rooms, etc.

On the 29th we made Sandy Hook Lighthouse, which is about 20 miles from New York Dock, but we got in too late for the Custom-house officers to look at our baggage, so we lay all night in the harbour, and next morning commenced the tedious process of creeping up, yard by yard, into our berth at the dock. The run from Liverpool was thus:--Liverpool to Queenstown, on the 22nd and 23rd, 240 miles; 24th, at noon, 330 miles; 25th, 454; 26th, 462; 27th, 475; 28th, 480; 29th, 471; distance to Sandy Hook Lighthouse, 130 miles; so that the run totals up to 3,042, and with the 20 miles added, 3,062 miles.

I had been recommended by a passenger to go to the Hotel St. Stephen, 46 to 52, East Eleventh Street, New York, whence I drove in a cab perhaps a mile and a half, for which the cabman wanted 2 dollars (equal to 8s. 4d.); he got 1-1/2, which was half-a-dollar too much. Passengers should drive to their hotel, and then ask the proper fare before paying. New York has many large hotels--this is comparatively a small one. All the waiters are coloured men, and this seems pretty general throughout America.

I stayed over the 30th (Sunday) in New York, by which I secured a quiet day and an opportunity to attend Divine service. In my bedroom was a coil of stout Manilla rope screwed into the floor, near a window, so that an escape might be secured in the event of fire. The towels provided are a kind of compromise between a duster and a pocket handkerchief--rather disappointing to one accustomed to his "tub." New York is great in tram-cars, worked by horses, mules, and electricity, also elevated railways--that is, railways running down the streets on huge tressels or scaffolding--so that the vehicles go underneath them, and the passengers in the train look straight into the first-floor windows of the houses on the other side. There is an immense development of electricity all over America, and in tram-cars, railway-cars, hotels, houses, everything and everywhere, is the electric light prominent. Many of the streets are unevenly paved. Blacking boots is a profession in America--in many hotels a special charge is made for it, or else the visitors are left to their own devices thereon--and boot-blacks have shops and nooks fitted with high, huge easy chairs, elevated like thrones, where their clients can comfortably repose during the operation of polish.

The next morning, December 1st, I was up early, and made enquiries at the various offices representing the railway lines to Chicago, with the result that I took a ticket by the Pennsylvania route, and left New York at 10 o'clock a.m. The train service between New York and Chicago is one of the best, if not the best, in America. The cars are elegantly fitted; they are about the length of the Pullman cars we have in England. The best cars are those fitted with sleeping accommodation, and travellers having tickets for a "sleeper" have the privilege of using the sleeping car during the day. The sleeping cars are divided into squares capable of seating four persons, but the space is accorded to two only, as only two beds or berths can be made up in the space; the lower berth (which is always the favourite) is formed of the two double seats (the space for four seats), filled up in the centre by special fittings and mattresses, hidden during the day inside the seats; the upper berth is pulled down from the sloping roof of the car, and in the receptacle between the slope and the square are contained the bedding and the fittings. A curtain falls down over both the upper and lower berths, and, so far as one can, the dressing has to be done with the curtain hanging round one as one stands within it; and if on both sides of the car passengers happen to stand behind their respective curtains at the same time, they would touch one another and so block the passage-way. The dressing accommodation is so inconvenient that only partial undressing is adopted. The outside of the slope is polished mahogany, and in the daytime bears no indication whatever of what it really is, but looks like a handsome sloping polished mahogany roof. These cars are luxuriously fitted. Another car on the train is a handsome dining saloon, with kitchen attached, where you can order as good a dinner as you could obtain at an hotel. The cars are also fitted liberally with lavatories and water-closets, separate ones for ladies and for gentlemen. On this train is also a bath-room and a barber's shop. There are also one or two small private rooms, which can be hired separately. This train has also a recent addition, being what is called a drawing-room or observation car; this is the last on the train, and the end is fitted with glass, so that in riding along passengers in this car enjoy an uninterrupted view of the country they are leaving behind. On this special train a ladies' maid is provided for the convenience of ladies, and a stenographer, with his type-writing machine, occupies a seat in the vestibule of the drawing-room car to take down any urgent letters which business men may desire to post en route. The observation car is supplied with a library for the use of passengers, and is fitted with plate-glass windows and easy chairs. It has a platform where one can breathe the fresh air outside if desired. There is also a smoking-room car. On this special train the Stock Exchange reports of the New York and Philadelphia Exchanges are received and posted on the bulletin boards three times a day, and the weather reports are also posted. The whole of the train is thoroughly well heated by steam pipes, and lighted by electricity. The person in charge of a "sleeper" car is called the "porter;" he occupies a position, not like a porter on an English railway, but analagous to a steward on board ship.

On leaving New York I noticed that the suburbs contained many very small wooden houses, and the country had the appearance of many Colonial scenes I have witnessed--the land looked like reclaimed prairie, which it probably is; and after passing many homesteads and villages we ran into Philadelphia at 12.20. Philadelphia is the largest city, as to area, in the United States. It is situate on the west bank of the Delaware River. It is 22 miles long, and from 5 to 8 broad, comprising an area of 1,294 square miles. It has over 900 miles of paved streets. Philadelphia was founded by the celebrated William Penn, who went from England to America in 1682 A.D., and purchased the site of this great city from the Indians. William Penn's character was remarkable for his high sense of honour, and if the same principle had obtained throughout the history of the United States with the Indians, we should never have heard of any "Indian Difficulty." Penn presented the city with a charter in 1701. The city, built upon lands honestly and liberally bought from the Indians, prospered greatly, and its population continued to increase until it now reaches something approaching 900,000. Its chief source of wealth is from its manufactures, which embrace locomotives, and all kinds of ironware, ships, carpets, woollen and cotton goods, shoes, umbrellas, and books. It has more buildings than any other city in that country, and, in point of commerce, ranks fourth among the cities of the United States. I noticed that the suburbs of Philadelphia contained many handsome stone and brick residences. I felt much interested in the connection with William Penn, because he is one of the ancestors of the Penn-Gaskells of England, who for many years have been valuable and much-respected clients of mine, and in numerous transactions I have noticed in them that beautiful trait of strict honour which gave William Penn a world-wide character, and has descended from him to them.

Passing by many farm homesteads, villages, and towns, all having a prosperous kind of appearance, and described as "one of the richest agricultural districts in America," we ran into Harrisburg, which is the capital of Pennsylvania, and situate on the east bank of the Susquehanna River. About five miles above Harrisburg we crossed the Susquehanna River on a bridge 3,670 feet long, from the centre of which I am told there is a fine view, but I lost it, as a snowstorm was raging while I was crossing.

We stopped at Altoona, a large city lying at the foot of the Alleghanies, and in ascending the Alleghanies fine scenery and great engineering feats are discernible. From this we ran on to Pittsburg, which claims to be the best lighted city in America, the streets being brilliantly illuminated by arc and incandescent electric lights. Nine bridges cross the Allegheny, and five the Monongahela rivers. Pittsburg has been called the "iron city," and "smoky city"; it has immense glass, steel and iron manufactures, and in these three interests alone employs over 50,000 persons.

Then we proceed till, presently, we catch sight of Lake Michigan, and know that Chicago is not far off. We skirt the shore of this busy water, with its wharves, etc. On arrival (December 2nd) we drive through the city from the Pennsylvania to the North-Western terminus.

Chicago is 912 miles from New York: it is the greatest city in Illinois, and during the past 50 years has grown from a small Indian trading station into a metropolis. Chicago extends some 20 miles along the shores of Lake Michigan, and goes back from the lake to a depth of about four miles, thus embracing about 80 square miles; beyond these confines of the city proper the suburbs extend to some 6 to 10 miles in every direction. It will be remembered that in 1871 Chicago had a great fire, which burned an area of 3-1/8 square miles, destroyed 17,450 buildings, made 98,500 persons homeless, and killed outright about 200 more. The loss of property was estimated at 190,000,000 dollars, of which only 30,000,000 dollars were recovered from insurances, and this bankrupted some of the insurance companies. In 1874 another fire consumed 5,000,000 dollars' worth of property. Chicago is the great central depôt for grain, lumber and live stock. In 1888 there were packed at Chicago 4,500,000 hogs, and about 1,600,000 cattle. Chicago has also extensive iron, steel, wheel, car, flour, furniture, boot and shoe and tannery manufactures. In driving through I noticed one long street, to the right and left of the street I was traversing, thickly occupied with tradesmen's carts, backed on the kerb in the usual fashion, being loaded from the stores (or shops): there must have been a few hundred of them; I never saw so many in one street at one time anywhere in any part of the world. Chicago was cased in frozen snow, and thus was not very attractive; but I noticed many very fine buildings, and was much struck with the cosmopolitan character of the inhabitants. During the interval of waiting for the train on the North-Western to start I was able to see a little of the place, and found that some persons I spoke to could not speak English. They came apparently from all parts of the continent of Europe.

CHICAGO TO SAN FRANCISCO.

The train was due at Chicago (December 2nd) at 9.45 a.m., being exactly a 23 hours and 45 minutes' run from New York. Having crossed Chicago from one terminus to another, I found that three trains left Chicago by which I could travel to San Francisco--two were slow trains, and one a fast train; but, by whichever train I went, it would make no difference as to the time I left Omaha, and consequently no difference to the time I should arrive at San Francisco, so I went on by one of the slow trains, as I wanted to see Council Bluffs. This train was similarly fitted to the other, except that it had no drawing-room car, nor stenographer, etc., nor were the platforms connecting the carriages enclosed; so that, in passing to the dining car, or any other car, the sudden change from a hot car to a shower of snow was not pleasant. The distance from Chicago to Omaha is 492 miles, and the country between the two places formed a part of the great prairie region, which, 50 years ago, had no other inhabitant than the Indian and the trapper, but now is a succession of homesteads, villages, and towns, bearing evidence of prosperity. At Creston, and many other stations, I noticed that there is no protection whatever from the railway; the line is unfenced, and the train runs through the town as openly as a coach would; there is generally a rough board put up here and there with the words, crudely painted on them, "Look out for the cars!" We were due at Council Bluffs the next morning (December 3rd) at 7.23, but we arrived some half-hour late. Council Bluffs Station is four miles from Omaha Station, but the towns adjoin. The former has a population of over 35,000, and the latter of over 110,000. They are divided by the great Missouri River, which is crossed by two bridges, one being 2,750 feet long, and the other 2,920 feet long. Having had breakfast at the station, I went up to the town by the "motor," that is, the electrical tram-car. The motor cars, like the railway cars, are heated. I noticed a large number of detached wooden cottages, "standing in their own grounds," of about one-eighth of an acre, and I learned that these are owned by labourers. Mr. Day, an agent there, told me that the cottage would cost 500 dollars, and the land 400 dollars, i.e., £100 for the house, and £80 for the land. An eighth of an acre for £80 would be £640 per acre, and this quite out in the suburbs; and I was told that good business blocks in the town itself would fetch £32,000 (not dollars, but pounds) per acre. In the large cities, such as New York, Chicago, etc., prices in the principal streets would compare with prices in the City of London. Returning to the station, I joined the express train, and crossing the Missouri River to Omaha, we proceeded west. The river was frozen at its sides, and presented no attractions worth notice. On we go through hundreds of fields of maize, always called "corn" in America; other grain crops, such as wheat, etc., are called by their own names, but the crop known only as "corn" in America is maize. The rich clusters of corn are gathered, and the stalks, something in appearance between a wheat stalk and a sugar cane, are left standing for the cattle to pick over. Forty years ago this part was uninhabited by white men, and was the home of countless buffaloes; now these animals are extirpated, and everywhere we see nothing, for mile upon mile, but corn, corn, corn. One of my fellow travellers was Mr. H.C. Jacobs, of Chicago, whose father-in-law was one of the pioneers, and who gave me much information. The next day (December 4th), we traverse the great rolling prairies of Nebraska, and see many herds of horses and cattle, and here and there ranch homes and cowboys.

Having run through Illinois, Iowa, and Nebraska, we commence the State of Wyoming as we pull up at the City of Cheyenne, where, in the far distance, we see, with its peaks well clothed in snow, the grand range of the Rocky Mountains. Soon after leaving Cheyenne, we commence the ascent of the Rockies--not, of course, the actual summit range itself, but the foot hills and high lands stretching away from, and forming part of it--and as we climb the ascent terminating at Sherman, where we have gained an elevation of 8,247 feet, we pass through very wild, grand scenery. At this altitude we look down upon floating clouds, and see in the distance Long's Peak, 14,000 feet high, towering above them. All along, at intervals, are portable fences, placed to catch the snow as it drifts, to prevent it blocking the line; and also what are called snow sheds, which are rough timber tunnels built up to protect the rails from the great drifts arising out of heavy snowstorms. At the highest point is a pyramid, commemorating a certain Mr. Oakes Ames, which looked 20 feet high and very near the line; it is however, 75 feet high and half-a-mile off. The air is so rarefied that distances are most deceiving.

As our descent proceeds, we catch sight, in the distance, of a herd of wild elk, and where these rolling prairies have better herbage, we see herds of horses with ranch buildings here and there. We pass the ranch of William Cody, who, by virtue of his being a Senator of the State of Nebraska, is called Honourable, but who was known in London, a short time ago, at Mr. Whitley's "Wild West" show as "Buffalo Bill." As we pass Fort Laraime, one of the forts erected by the United States Government as a protection against the Indians, I was told some stories of Cody's exploits against the Indians. In former days, emigrants traversing these great prairies to found a home in this Wild West, were often harassed by Indians, and the soldiers at the fort had to protect them. Buffalo Bill has been in many a skirmish, and, if rumour is true, many redskins have succumbed to him; the Government took counsel with him in all Indian difficulties in that part of the country, and the day before I passed his ranch he had been sent for by the authorities that they might confer with him as to the outbreak which then existed, and which cost "Sitting Bull" his life. We passed a house cut clean in two by the wind, great herds of horses and cattle, beautiful specimens of the bald and other eagles and vultures, some deer, and a very fine grey wolf about the size of a Newfoundland dog. The distant mountain scenery at times is very grand, and everywhere snow-capped. The air is very pure and keen. I much enjoyed the society of two fellow travellers over this part of my journey, Mr. Lee, of General Lee's family, of Virginia, and Mr. Hurley, Solicitor to the Directors of the line we were traversing. We passed the "Divide of the Continent" at an altitude of 7,100 feet, which is the dividing line of the running of water; that running east empties into the North Platte River, thence into the Missouri, thence into the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean; that running west empties into the Green River, thence into the Colorado, thence into the Pacific Ocean.

In the early morning of December 5th we ran into Ogden, which is near Salt Lake, at the base of the Wasatch Mountains, which are snow-capped, and have some very fine peaks. Salt Lake is 126 by 45 miles, and on it is situate the great City of the Mormons. On the more fertile parts of the prairies I gathered, at Humboldt Wells, some of the sage grass which used to be the food of the buffaloes when they existed; at other places I gathered samples of herbage on less favoured soils. As we proceed, we see an encampment of Indians with red paint on their faces, which was put on to show sympathy with, and, if necessary, take part with other tribes of Indians, then commencing a "war" with the United States soldiers. This district was not far, as distances go in America from the scene of action. Presently we commence our run through the great barren alkali plains, emerging from which we get into a more fertile country, and, at Cedar Pass, notice the great ranch of Messrs. Sparks and Tinnin, who are reputed to have 100,000 head of cattle. Mr. Byrne, of Elko, Nevada, also the owner of a large ranch, was on board the cars, and gave me some useful information. He said that cattle raising is very profitable, as they double in number every four years, i.e., a profit of 25 per cent.; thus, if a man start with a 1,000 head of stock cattle, he will have 4,000 head in four years.

If a thousand head of stock cattle were purchased off a ranch, they would be sold just as they run, without any selection whatever--steers, heifers, cows, calves, bulls, yearlings, both sexes and all ages, but calves which still suck their mothers are not counted, and go for nothing. Many head of cattle perish in the winter, when the land is covered with snow, as on many large ranches no food is given them. I urged that it would pay to have stock-yards and give food during the snow time, and Mr. Byrne said that he always did so himself, and that the great ranch men were having their eyes opened to this necessity.

We passed various other encampments of Indians, and far from any encampment or habitation saw an Indian on the track carrying a small light bundle, and following him a long way behind was his squaw, labouring under a very heavy burden.

During this day we ran through ranges of uneven mountains, rising one above another in broken undulations and with ever-varying tops, such as table lands, sharp conical peaks, rounded heads, and broken indentations.

The distant mountains are enveloped in snow, upon which gleams a resplendent setting sun, presenting a prospect which only such a region could produce. From the dazzling whiteness of one range we look upon the dense darkness of another, as being out of the sun's influence. The lights and shades, the gorges, the fissures, the striations in the range upon range, with their intervals of plains and valleys, here and there opening up peeps of great tracts of country, and then again shutting all in to the circumference of their gigantic heads, interspersed with the brilliance of rich gold, tingeing some tops and revealing dark recesses, some ruby tints and fantastic shadows,--all combine to reflect a glory which lifts the mind beyond the great heights of hills to a height, greater still, whence originated all natural grandeur.

We had run through Utah and Nevada, and were now approaching the northern part of California. In the very early morning of December 6th I awoke and found that the train was at a standstill. Thinking that we were at a station I tried to sleep again, but, finding that we continued motionless, I went out on to the platform connecting our car with the next and found all around was deep snow, and that another train on the other metals had broken down, and that our men were apparently helping to get it off. We were then two miles from Truckee, and at an elevation of nearly 6,000 feet. After a long delay we got away and ran into Truckee. The scenery on this day was also of a truly grand character: precipices, declivities, chasms; and in one very romantic spot, of weird and wild mountain sides, graduating to narrow gullies, with pine and other trees, some perfect, others broken by the wind was one great wreck of a forest monster--a tree rudely snapped asunder by wind or lightning, about 40 feet from the ground, and stripped of every branch, so that it looked like a broken column; on its top sat a great vulture in the well-known attitude of its kind, as motionless as rock, and apparently meditating on the incongruity of a noisy, vulgar bit of machinery, with its train of cars, invading such a nook of Nature's solitudes.

As we proceeded we came upon the succession of Placer gold diggings, known as the hydraulic mines, which were then for the most part abandoned, and these brought to my remembrance many similar spots I had seen in Australia. The débris of the mines had stopped up, or diverted, or otherwise interfered with the Sacramento River, the Bear River, and other rivers, to the great detriment of agriculture, horticulture, stock rearing, etc., whereupon the State Legislature of California passed an Act to prohibit all interference with the water, for without water the miners could not wash their dirt, and so had to abandon the diggings. All around this part, ravine followed ravine, with beautiful vistas between, affording a continuous luxury of scenic gratification. Presently we reached what is called by many the grandest scenery on the American Continent, known as Cape Horn; it is where the train winds round a mountain side, on a narrow ledge, and at such a height, that to hold one's hand out of the window would be to hold it over a sheer precipice of 2,500 feet. The train runs along the ledge or narrow roadway cut in the face of the mountain rock, and all around is presented a spectacle of the majesty of Nature, which only such a range of mountains as the Sierra Nevada could produce.