Memoirs of General William T. Sherman — Complete
their behavior that it amounted to defiance. They had deliberately
slung their knapsacks and started for the gold-mines. Dr. Murray
and I were the only ones present who were familiar with the
country, and I explained how easy they could all be taken by a
party going out at once to Salinas Plain, where the country was so
open and level that a rabbit could not cross without being seen;
that the deserters could not go to the mines without crossing that
plain, and could not reach it before daylight. All agreed that the
whole regiment would desert if these men were not brought back.
Several officers volunteered on the spot to go after them; and, as
the soldiers could not be trusted, it was useless to send any but
officers in pursuit. Some one went to report the affair to the
adjutant-general, Canby, and he to General Riley. I waited some
time, and, as the thing grew cold, I thought it was given up, and
went to my room and to bed.
About midnight I was called up and informed that there were seven
officers willing to go, but the difficulty was to get horses and
saddles. I went down to Larkin's house and got General Smith to
consent that we might take the horses I had bought for our trip.
It was nearly three o'clock A.M. before we were all mounted and
ready. I had a musket which I used for hunting. With this I led
off at a canter, followed by the others. About six miles out, by
the faint moon, I saw ahead of us in the sandy road some blue
coats, and, fearing lest they might resist or escape into the dense
bushes which lined the road, I halted and found with me Paymaster
Hill, Captain N. H. Davis, and Lieutenant John Hamilton. We waited
some time for the others, viz., Canby, Murray, Gibbs, and Sully, to
come up, but as they were not in sight we made a dash up the road
and captured six of the deserters, who were Germans, with heavy
knapsacks on, trudging along the deep, sandy road. They had not
expected pursuit, had not heard our horses, and were accordingly
easily taken. Finding myself the senior officer present, I ordered
Lieutenant Hamilton to search the men and then to march them back
to Monterey, suspecting, as was the fact, that the rest of our
party had taken a road that branched off a couple of miles back.
Daylight broke as we reached the Saunas River, twelve miles out,
and there the trail was broad and fresh leading directly out on the
Saunas Plain. This plain is about five miles wide, and then the
ground becomes somewhat broken. The trail continued very plain,
and I rode on at a gallop to where there was an old adobe-ranch on
the left of the road, with the head of a lagoon, or pond, close by.
I saw one or two of the soldiers getting water at the pond, and
others up near the house. I had the best horse and was
considerably ahead, but on looking back could see Hill and Davis
coming up behind at a gallop. I motioned to them to hurry forward,
and turned my horse across the head of the pond, knowing the ground
well, as it was a favorite place for shooting geese and ducks.
Approaching the house, I ordered the men who were outside to go in.
They did not know me personally, and exchanged glances, but I had
my musket cocked, and, as the two had seen Davis and Hill coming up
pretty fast, they obeyed. Dismounting, I found the house full of
deserters, and there was no escape for them. They naturally
supposed that I had a strong party with me, and when I ordered them
to "fall in" they obeyed from habit. By the time Hill and Davis
came up I had them formed in two ranks, the front rank facing
about, and I was taking away their bayonets, pistols, etc. We
disarmed them, destroying a musket and several pistols, and, on
counting them, we found that we three had taken eighteen, which,
added to the six first captured, made twenty-four. We made them
sling their knapsacks and begin their homeward march. It was near
night when we got back, so that these deserters had traveled nearly
forty miles since "tattoo" of the night before. The other party
had captured three, so that only one man had escaped. I doubt not
this prevented the desertion of the bulk of the Second Infantry
that spring, for at that time so demoralizing was the effect of the
gold-mines that everybody not in the military service justified
desertion, because a soldier, if free, could earn more money in a
day than he received per month. Not only did soldiers and sailors
desert, but captains and masters of ships actually abandoned their
vessels and cargoes to try their luck at the mines. Preachers
and professors forgot their creeds and took to trade, and
even to keeping gambling-houses. I remember that one of our
regular soldiers, named Reese, in deserting stole a favorite
double-barreled gun of mine, and when the orderly-sergeant of the
company, Carson, was going on furlough, I asked him when he came
across Reese to try and get my gun back. When he returned he told
me that he had found Reese and offered him a hundred dollars for my
gun, but Reese sent me word that he liked the gun, and would not
take a hundred dollars for it. Soldiers or sailors who could reach
the mines were universally shielded by the miners, so that it was
next to useless to attempt their recapture. In due season General
Persifer Smith, Gibbs, and I, with some hired packers, started back
for San Francisco, and soon after we transferred our headquarters to
Sonoma. About this time Major Joseph Hooker arrived from the East
--the regular adjutant-general of the division--relieved me, and I
became thereafter one of General Smith's regular aides-de-camp.
As there was very little to do, General Smith encouraged us to go
into any business that would enable us to make money. R. P.
Hammond, James Blair, and I, made a contract to survey for Colonel
J. D. Stevenson his newly-projected city of "New York of the
Pacific," situated at the month of the San Joaquin River. The
contract embraced, also, the making of soundings and the marking
out of a channel through Suisun Bay. We hired, in San Francisco, a
small metallic boat, with a sail, laid in some stores, and
proceeded to the United States ship Ohio, anchored at Saucelito,
where we borrowed a sailor-boy and lead-lines with which to sound
the channel. We sailed up to Benicia, and, at General Smith's
request, we surveyed and marked the line dividing the city of
Benicia from the government reserve. We then sounded the bay back
and forth, and staked out the best channel up Suisun Bay, from
which Blair made out sailing directions. We then made the
preliminary surveys of the city of "New York of the Pacific," all
of which were duly plotted; and for this work we each received from
Stevenson five hundred dollars and ten or fifteen lots. I sold
enough lots to make up another five hundred dollars, and let the
balance go; for the city of "New York of the Pacific" never came to
any thing. Indeed, cities at the time were being projected by
speculators all round the bay and all over the country.
While we were surveying at "New York of the Pacific," occurred one
of those little events that showed the force of the gold-fever. We
had a sailor-boy with us, about seventeen years old, who cooked our
meals and helped work the boat. Onshore, we had the sail spread so
as to shelter us against the wind and dew. One morning I awoke
about daylight, and looked out to see if our sailor-boy was at work
getting breakfast; but he was not at the fire at all. Getting up,
I discovered that he had converted a tule-bolsa into a sail boat,
and was sailing for the gold-mines. He was astride this bolsa,
with a small parcel of bread and meat done up in a piece of
cloth; another piece of cloth, such as we used for making our
signal-stations, he had fixed into a sail; and with a paddle he was
directing his precarious craft right out into the broad bay, to
follow the general direction of the schooners and boats that he
knew were ascending the Sacramento River. He was about a hundred
yards from the shore. I jerked up my gun, and hailed him to come
back. After a moment's hesitation, he let go his sheet and began
to paddle back. This bolsa was nothing but a bundle of tule, or
bullrush, bound together with grass-ropes in the shape of a cigar,
about ten feet long and about two feet through the butt. With
these the California Indiana cross streams of considerable size.
When he came ashore, I gave him a good overhauling for attempting
to desert, and put him to work getting breakfast. In due time we
returned him to his ship, the Ohio. Subsequently, I made a bargain
with Mr. Hartnell to survey his ranch at Cosnmnes River, Sacramento
Valley. Ord and a young citizen, named Seton, were associated with
me in this. I bought of Rodman M. Price a surveyor's compass,
chain, etc., and, in San Francisco, a small wagon and harness.
Availing ourselves of a schooner, chartered to carry Major Miller
and two companies of the Second Infantry from San Francisco to
Stockton, we got up to our destination at little cost. I recall an
occurrence that happened when the schooner was anchored in
Carquinez Straits, opposite the soldiers' camp on shore. We were
waiting for daylight and a fair wind; the schooner lay anchored at
an ebb-tide, and about daylight Ord and I had gone ashore for
something. Just as we were pulling off from shore, we heard the
loud shouts of the men, and saw them all running down toward the
water. Our attention thus drawn, we saw something swimming in the
water, and pulled toward it, thinking it a coyote; but we soon
recognized a large grizzly bear, swimming directly across the
channel. Not having any weapon, we hurriedly pulled for the
schooner, calling out, as we neared it, "A bear! a bear!" It so
happened that Major Miller was on deck, washing his face and hands.
He ran rapidly to the bow of the vessel, took the musket from the
hands of the sentinel, and fired at the bear, as he passed but a
short distance ahead of the schooner. The bear rose, made a growl
or howl, but continued his course. As we scrambled up the
port-aide to get our guns, the mate, with a crew, happened to have
a boat on the starboard-aide, and, armed only with a hatchet, they
pulled up alongside the bear, and the mate struck him in the head
with the hatchet. The bear turned, tried to get into the boat, but
the mate struck his claws with repeated blows, and made him let go.
After several passes with him, the mate actually killed the bear,
got a rope round him, and towed him alongside the schooner, where
he was hoisted on deck. The carcass weighed over six hundred
pounds. It was found that Major Miller's shot had struck the bear
in the lower jaw, and thus disabled him. Had it not been for this,
the bear would certainly have upset the boat and drowned all in it.
As it was, however, his meat served us a good turn in our trip up
to Stockton. At Stockton we disembarked our wagon, provisions, and
instruments. There I bought two fine mules at three hundred
dollars each, and we hitched up and started for the Coaumnes River.
About twelve miles off was the Mokelumne, a wide, bold stream, with
a canoe as a ferry-boat. We took our wagon to pieces, and ferried
it and its contents across, and then drove our mules into the
water. In crossing, one mule became entangled in the rope of the
other, and for a time we thought he was a gone mule; but at last he
revived and we hitched up. The mules were both pack-animals;
neither had ever before seen a wagon. Young Seton also was about
as green, and had never handled a mule. We put on the harness, and
began to hitch them in, when one of the mules turned his head, saw
the wagon, and started. We held on tight, but the beast did not
stop until he had shivered the tongue-pole into a dozen fragments.