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LETTER FROM A. S. VOORHIS.
The following letter from Mr. A. S. Voorhis, son of Mr. Daniel Voorhis of this place, will be read with interest by his friends and acquaintances, as well as all those who take an interest in the emigration to California. Mr. V., it will be recollected, left Lebanon early in the spring.
Sacramento City, August 14, 1849
Dear Parents, Sisters and Brother:—Once more in the course of human events I sit down to write you a few lines, hoping they may reach you as soon as possible and ease your minds of any doubt as regards our safe arrival in the mining region. We arrived here this morning, where we design selling our wagon and mules, and then starting for the middle branch of the Sacramento, for the purpose of mining. George Fosdick does not intend mining this summer, but will pursue some other kind of business. Our old friend Tolbot [aka Joseph Tolbert] intends working at his trade (carpentering) for the present. He is offered 16 dollars per day and boarded, but has not yet closed with the offer, thinking that he may do better. Henry Probasco, Ellis Stokes and myself, will each pack a mule with provisions and mining implements, drive them before us, and foot it to the mines, a distance of some forty miles. If we succeed well in mining we will continue at it, if not, we will pursue some other occupation. Everyone can get employment at high wages. No scarcity of money, provisions or clothing, in short of anything that will render an individual comfortable. Provisions are cheap enough, considering the amount of money afloat in this country. Flour at 8 dollars per hundred pounds; bacon 60¢ per pound; beef 25¢ per pound; sugar 20¢. Clothing can be bought as cheap here as in the States.
I have so many things in my mind to write about that I am at a loss in what manner to commence to give you a general account of our trip to this place, and a description of the country as far as my observation extended. I have written home twice on our journey to this place, but whether or not you have received them of course is unknown to me. We started from the State line (Missouri) on the 27th of April, in high spirits, knowing but little of the troubles and vexations incident to such a trip as we were then undertaking. Our progress was slow, owing to the large number which composed our company, and our heavy wagons and loads. We had not been on the route long before we became convinced that it would be for the good of all that a dissolution of the company should take place; however, we traveled together as far as Fort Laramie, a distance of about 670 miles, where we concluded, in view of all the circumstances, to make a division of all common property, and give each one the privilege of traveling as best pleased him. At this point we traded off our heavy wagon for a light one, reduced our loading considerably, and then started in company with four other wagons. We made very good progress by this arrangement, and we continued together as far as Fort Hall, where one of the messes determined to begin packing, thinking that they would make a much quicker trip across the Sierra Nevada mountain with pack mules than with their wagon. Here they remained two days, making the necessary arrangements for packing. And here I would make mention of young Anderson, a nephew of Mr. Joseph Anderson of Lebanon, and a member of this mess. He is here now and in good health. Remember him to his friends.
There were now four wagons of our company remaining; and but four, for we had learned that all of the company which we had left behind had abandoned their wagons and gone to packing. We traveled along together very fast, passing everything on the road except one train. We had but little grass for our animals. After traveling some distance up the Mungo river, otherwise called Humboldt river, and as we approached the sink of St. Mary’s river, we found scarcely enough grass to afford them sustenance, and here too was the time we most needed the strength of our mules, for from the sink across to Carson river, a distance of forty-five miles, there is nothing but one wide stretch of desert—not a
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I will now give you a description of our journey across this desert, and of what we saw upon it. From the sink of St. Mary’s there are two routes, one the old route across the desert to Snicker river, the other a nearer route, laid out by the Mormons, across to Carson river. The latter is considered the more preferable route. This road we traveled, and it is the one traveled by most of the emigrants. We were under the necessity of crossing the desert by night, owing to the intense heat, for if we had attempted it by day the heat would have exhausted our mules long before we could have reached the river. Well, we provided ourselves with grass sufficient for them, and started about four o’clock in the afternoon and traveled until 12 o’clock at night. After feeding our mules we proceeded on until daylight, thinking we were near the outcome. But in this we were mistaken, for we had yet the worst part of the desert to cross. Just at daylight we struck the sand, from ten to eighteen inches deep. We had eight mules to our wagon, and it was with great difficulty we could get along. We traveled on about five miles, and then learned that we were yet ten miles from the river. There were wagons standing all along the road, their animals having gone to the river for the purpose of recruiting and watering, and then returning for their wagons the next evening. It was now 10 o’clock, and the sun was shining very hot, so we concluded to leave our wagon and return for it that night, and in the mean time drive our mules to the river and feed and water them. We did so, and reached the river with our wagon the next morning. It was a dead pull the whole distance, and we were scarcely beyond the stench of dead animals the whole time, the road being almost literally lined with mules left there to die after becoming so tired they could not move. However, we got through safely with all our mules, eleven in number, and the other three messes did so likewise.
We traveled on till we came to the mountains. Here the other three messes were obliged to pack, their mules having become so much reduced that they could not have taken their wagons over the dreaded Sierra Nevada mountain. They stopped to pack and we joined another train and pushed ahead. The boys took out as much loading as they could pack upon their riding mules, and I drove the donkeys; but such roads I never saw before nor ever wish to see again. We were compelled to drive over rocks that you would think it impossible for a wagon to get over. Nevertheless we got over safely, our wagon being the only one in the Cincinnati company that crossed the mountains. We have sold our wagon for $300, and four of the mules with their harness for $600. We have not yet determined whether we will sell the remainder of our animals. To conclude my remarks upon our trip I will only say that I shall remain a long time in California before I return by way of the plains.
And now for a few words about this place. We are now in Sacramento City, a place which has grown to be quite a city in a few weeks. Lots are selling as high as in any of the eastern cities, and there is so little value set upon money that there is scarcely any grumbling about prices. We all like the country very well, though it is not at all suited to agricultural purposes. We are all well, and confidently hope to make something where there is so much money in circulation. As to digging gold, from all we can learn, every one who works can make from one to three ounces per day, just as fortune favors him; but it requires labor. Those who came here expecting to pick it up in lumps of course were disappointed. Many have returned home. But what is the best of all, since we got through our difficult trip, is that we have just met our old acquaintance, John McGinley. He is in business here and doing well. We deposit our surplus things with him. I have been writing at this for two or three days, as I could get time. We shall try and get off to the mines to-night. Henry [Probasco] and Ellis [Stokes] wrote letters, but both lost them. We are all well. The boys send their respects to all. I must close. I shall soon write from the mines. Direct letters to Sacramento City.
Your affectionate son, A. S. Voorhis.