goldfields

“Wednesday, 3d. We waited till Capt. B. came up, and all started for Marsh’s about noon; arrived at the St. Joaquin and crossed it — distance 13 miles — found an abundance of grass here. The timber was white oak, several kinds of evergreen oaks, and willow — the river about 100 yds. in width.”

With the news from Jones and Kelsey on the 2nd that they had found Dr. Marsh, the Company at last knew that they were definitely in California. All that was left to do now was to cross the San Joaquin River and the Central Valley. “It was an occasion of great joy and gladness. We were not only near our journey’s end, but the men knew just where to go, instead of uncertainty.”  (1877 Dictation)

It is stunning to consider how long they had traveled in uncertainty and doubt. For three months, since they had split off from the party that went to Oregon, they had been blazing a trail through unknown territory. Who today would undertake such a journey?

“Tuesday, 2nd.  Capt. B. with his 7 remained to take care of the meat he had killed — while the rest of the Company went on. We passed some beautiful grapes, sweet and pleasant.  . .  Behold! This morning Jones, who left the camp to hunt on the 23rd ult. came to the camp. They (he and Kelsey) had arrived in the plains several days before us, and found an Indian, who conducted them to Marsh’s house, but he brought bad news; he said there had been no rain in California for 18 months, and the the consequence was, there was little breadstuff in the country. Beef, however, was abundant and of the best quality.”

Thomas Jones and Andrew Kelsey (younger brother of Benjamin Kelsey) had gone on ahead to search for settlements, and came back with the exciting news that they had been lead by an Indian to the ranch of Dr. John Marsh. This was good news indeed, for Marsh was the man who had set the movement in motion. His letters to Missouri, read by Bidwell and many others, had painted a glowing picture of the healthful climate and fertile soil of California. It was Marsh who had enticed them across half a continent to  this new land. Now they were about to meet the man himself.

Bidwell might have been worried though, by that mention of drought. As a farmer, he was looking for a place to raise wheat, livestock, and produce. Without reliable rainfall, how could that happen?

“When morning came the foremost of the party waited for the others to come up. They had found water in a stagnant pond, but what was better, they had killed a fat coyote, and with us it was anything but mule meat.  . . . Being in the rear, I did not reach it in time to get any of the coyote except the lights [lungs] and the windpipe. Longing for fat meat and willing to eat anything but poor mule meat and seeing a little fat on the windpipe, I threw it on the coals to warm it and greedily devoured it.” (1877 Dictation)

That was his breakfast, but dinner would be another thing altogether. From the journal:

“Sunday, 31st. Bore off in a N.W. direction to the nearest timber . . . reached timber, which was white oak and finally the river which we had left in the mts., joyful sight to us poor famished wretches!!! Hundreds of antelope in view! Elk tracks thousands! Killed two antelopes and some wild fowls; the valley of the river was very fertile and the young tender grass covered it like a field of wheat in May.”

Somewhere near the present day town of Oakdale they came out of the foothills and down into the valley along the Stanislaus River, which they had followed off and on all down the western slope. They feasted on deer and antelope, and “ripe and luscious wild grapes.” Their horses feasted on the new grass just springing up from the fire-burnt ground. What a difference from morning to evening!

“Saturday, 30th. We had gone about 3 miles this morning, when lo! to our great delight, we beheld a wide valley! This we had entirely overlooked between us and the high mountains which terminated our view yesterday. Rivers evidently meandered through it, for timber was seen in long extended lines as far as the eye could reach. But we were unable to reach it today, and encamped in the plains. Here grew a few white oaks. Traveled today about 20 miles. Saw many tracks of elks. The valley was wonderfully parched with heat, and had been stripped of its vegetation by fire. Wild geese, fowls, etc. , were flying in multitudes.”

So when did Bidwell and Co. enter the promised land of California? By present day borders they had already been in California for about two weeks, since they had started making their way into the Sierra Nevada in mid-October. Of course they had been in Mexican territory much longer than that, but the land they were traversing was more like the Great Empty Quarter of North America than part of a foreign nation. Although claimed by Mexico, the territory that later became the states of Utah and Nevada was uninhabited by anyone except Native Americans.

For the Mexicans, Alta California was a narrow strip of land along the Pacific coast. There had been little exploration and no settlement in the Central Valley. All the missions and ranchos lay between the Pacific Ocean and the Coastal Range. Bidwell & Co. had not reached the settled part of California yet, but at least they could see ahead of them a land where they would not starve to death.

They were in California at last, but they didn’t know it.  Most of the men were sure that they would not reach California until they crossed another mountain range. How far they still had to go to get to California was hotly debated in the group, with some insisting that they could not get there before winter set in.

But still, if we have to pick a date for their entry into California, October 30 is as good as any. They could see California spread out before them, and it was everything they had been promised: a fertile land teeming with wild game, with a healthy climate and plenty of room for all. California at last!It didn’t really look like this, but Albert Bierstadt’s painting California Spring conveys the delight with which John Bidwell must have looked out upon the California landscape.

Friday, 29th. Last night, the Indians stole a couple of our horses. About noon we passed along by several huts, but they were deserted as soon as we come in sight, the Indians running in great consternation into the woods. At one place the bones of a horse were roasting in a fire; they were undoubtedly the bones of the horses we had lost. Travelled no less than 9 miles today; the night was very cool and had a heavy frost. Although our road was tolerably level today, yet we could see no termination to the mountains–and one much higher than the others terminated our view. Mr. Hopper, our best and most experienced hunter, observed that, “If California lies beyond those mountains we shall never be able to reach it.”

Most of the Company were on foot, in consequence of the horses giving out, and being stolen by Indians, but many were much fatigued and weak for the want of sufficient provision; others, however stood it very well. Some had appetites so craving that they eat the meat of most of the mule raw, as soon as it was killed; some eat it half roasted, dripping with blood.”

Weary and worn to the bone, barely living on the meat of their own pack animals, struggling down rocky canyons, the Company was in a desperate situation. With no map and no guide, they had not a clue where they were, and they could see no end to their journey.

Nancy Kelsey, who had started up into the Sierras riding a horse, with Baby Ann on her lap, was now walking. In her own recollection, taken down by a friend in 1893, she says, “I walked barefoot until my feet were blistered.”

As Bidwell explained in Echoes of the Past, “we were now on the edge of the San Joaquin Valley, but we did not even know that we were in California. We could see a range of mountains lying to the west–the Coast Range, but we could see no valley.” They discussed and debated their situation. Many in the party were convinced that they were not yet within five hundred miles of the Pacific Ocean. The mountains stretched as far as the eye could see, and greatly discouraged, they feared that they would never reach California alive.

“Thursday, 28th. Surely no horses nor mules with less experience than ours could have descended the difficult steeps and defiles which we encountered in this day’s journey. Even as it was, several horses and mules fell from the mountain’s side and rolling like huge stones, landed at the foot of the precipices. The mountains began to grow obtuse, but we could see no prospect of their termination. We eat the last of our beef this evening and killed a mule to finish our supper. Distance 6 miles.”

Yum! old mule meat. How John Bidwell must have longed for a loaf of bread. And those poor animals, done to death at the bottom of a cliff. It’s a wonder there was anyone with a horse left by the time they got out of the mountains.

“Monday, 25th. Went about 6 miles and found it impossible to proceed. Went back about 2 miles and encamped — dug holes in the ground to deposit such things as we could dispense with. Did not do it, discovering the Indians were watching us . . .”

“Tuesday, 26th. Went S. about 3 miles and camped in a deep ravine. It was urged by some that we should kill our horses and mules — dry what meat we could carry and start on foot to find the way out of the mountains.”

Bidwell & Co. were making very slow progress, and it must have felt like no progress at all. They feared they might wander about in the canyons for weeks until the snows caught them and they perished.

While Bidwell was off on his his detour to the grove of sequoias, the rest of the company had hired an old Indian to pilot them out of the mountains. They were sure that he had led them “into the worst place he could find” and then absconded. They suspected the Indians of wanting their horses for food, and they did not trust them.

When Bidwell caught up with his companions late on the 24th, they had abandoned 5 of the horses and mules that could no longer travel, and the Indians had turned them into meat. Now they had to consider whether it was time to kill the rest of the animals and travel on foot as lightly as possible.  They decided, for the time being, to keep their animals alive. If nothing else, they were dinner on the hoof, and at a last resort could be eaten.

Game was amazingly scarce in the Sierra Nevada. They shot a wildcat and a few crows, but never any deer. They ate acorns, but the bitter tannin in the untreated acorns made them sick. Years later Bidwell could still vividly recall how he longed for good food, especially bread.

“I was always so fond of bread that I could not imagine how any one could live without it. How the people in the Rocky Mountains [the trappers] had been able to live on meat alone was to me a mystery.

When our flour began to give out, the idea of doing without bread was painful to me, and by great economy my mess managed to eke out their flour a short time longer than the others. It was bad enough to have poor beef, but when brought to it we longed for fat beef adn though with it we might possibly live without bread. But when poor mule meat stared us in the face, we said if we could only have beef, no matter how poor, we could live.”  (1877 Dictation)