Clear and beautiful dawned the morning of February 28th, 1849 upon California. The storm of the previous week had given new freshness to the verdure, and the pleasant weather that followed had clothed all the hills of San Francisco with their most beautiful attire. But no one in the town thought of hillside or of waters of the cove spread out calm and unruffled between Clark's and Rincon Points, or of the fleet of twenty or thirty vessels at anchor, although every mast was being dressed in holiday attire of flags and pennons. All thoughts were turned seaward, and on every summit were groups of persons gazing out where a heavy bank of fog shut in the western horizon. A messenger from Monterey had brought tidings that the first steamer of the Pacific Mail Steamship Company having run short of coal, had put into that port to wood up and might be momentarily expected. Many a wild dream has since disturbed our slumbers: but none seemed wilder than the idea, that the slow moving trains, requiring six months to cross the plains, were to be supplanted by a line of steamers, bringing California within one months sail of New York. About ten o'clock the fog lifted, and a few miles outside all beheld a black hull with low masts and a solitary smoke stack from which ascended clouds of black vapor, steadily gliding towards the entrance of the harbor.
"The steamer! The steamer!" shouted the gazers upon the hilltops. Swift horsemen came careering at speed through the little village, shouting at the top of their voices, "the steamer! The steamer!" and throwing the whole community into a fever of excitement. Old ship cannon were hauled out from modest seclusion, and every preparation made to welcome the coming stranger.
Scarcely less excited was the throng on the deck of the California. The vessel was crowded with eager aspirants for fortune. Scarcely a person on board but for weeks had been eagerly looking forward to this day. And now in the soft glad sunlight of the vernal morning there rose to view the graceful slopes of the Golden Land. We enter the harbor. Before us lies the Contra Costa with the wooded plain where now stands a beautiful Oakland with its twenty-five thousand inhabitants. Behind the plain were hills radiant in emerald and sunlight, and one or two crested with redwood forests. Beyond towered the summit of Mount Diablo.
But none took more than an eager glance or two at the fair scenery. A few remarks were made by military officers respecting the points now occupied by the forts, as admirably adapted for purposes of defense; and then almost unbroken silence fell upon the passengers, while the ship steamed slowly against the strong ebb tide, and passed through the Golden Gate. A low brown building enclosed with an adobe wall appears upon our right, and some distance further eastward we see two or three painted cottages. "The Presidio!" exclaim several voices; and Mr. Ward a San Franciscan returning with his fair young wife- alas! Soon to fall into that sleep which knows no waking till the resurrection morn, observed that the houses in sight had been built since he left. The ship passes beyond the bold promontory of Telegraph Hill, and Yerba Buena cove, the anchored fleet, and that far-famed town, the general topic of conversation in every city and hamlet of Christendom, comes full into view.
Close before us lay the great ships of the American fleet; and scarcely were they fully in sight, when the Commodore's vessel began to utter her thunders of welcome. The rest of the fleet followed with their salutes. A Russian ship or two in port joined in the grand harmony. The guns on shore bellowed their loudest to increase the uproar. As with dipping colors we pass the Commodore, a command loud and clear rings upon the air, and up from the decks run masses of sailors into shrouds and out upon the yards, and give voice to their cheers. Scarcely had they ceased when the hundreds crowding the decks of the California return the salutation with results apparent in all by a smile and nod, saying, "We gave as good as we got". So the steamer sailed through the whole fleet every where cheered and welcomed with guns and dipping colors: and at last came to anchor, as nearly as I can judge, off the foot of what is now Market St.
Boats were speedily brought into requisition, and with many a groan over what were deemed monstrous charges the passengers were set ashore.
It has generally been intimated that the object of all who came to our State was gain. Taking the word in its large sense as covering all increase in property, influence or position, no doubt the remark is true. But in the narrow sense of pecuniary profit it was not so. There were ambitious men in our company, who freely spoke to me of their anticipations of position and trust. There were learned men, who hoped to increase both knowledge and influence. There were four ministers of the Gospel: Rev. Mr. Wiley, Vice President of the College of California; Rev. O.C. Wheeler now of Sacramento; Rev. Mr. Douglas, who returned to the old States, and the writer. No remarks were ever made by them in my hearing, that their intention was other than to build up God's Church. For myself, before leaving the ship I was taken aside by the man whose municipal power was greater than of any other person in the place, and advised to conceal my professional character, and was assured that there was an opening by which we might obtain vast wealth. The project was understood to refer to "Alcade grants," of lands, and the offer was declined. Nor amid the poverty and toils of humble ministerial life of twenty years in California has the choice been regretted.
Upon landing in San Francisco we found the place already occupied with religious labor. About three years previously a ship carrying missionaries to Oregon, had put into this port. Sunday elapsing during her stay, one of the ministers came ashore and held religious services. When the time arrived for service- Wm. S. Clark, Esq., is my informant- not a Bible could be found in town; and it was necessary to delay the appointment until a boat could be sent to the ship for a copy. At a later period, Capt. Montgomery's ship, the Portsmouth, lay in port for some months; and being a man of decided piety he held regular religious services in town. His influence was very great, and his name and that of his ship will be handed down to coming generations in our principle street and the Plaza. Often when standing in the magnificent thoroughfare, I think of those massive structures as laid upon the foundation of Christian faith. All those stately edifices have grown up as it were, upon the earnest, effectual prayers of a righteous man.
A few months after the discovery of gold the Rev. Dwight Hunt, an American missionary from the Sandwich Islands, was employed by the municipal authorities as Chaplain, and afterwards organized the First Congregational Church. He was laboring here upon our arrival. A careful estimate led to the belief that at this time the population of the town was between three and five thousand persons, of whom one thousand were supposed to have arrived the last week in February.
Have our expectations been realized? In some respects they have been surpassed, in others not accomplished. We underestimated the difficulties of obtaining permanent emigrants and constructing improvements. We fell into the error of supposing that a gold product is capital; and this only can build cities, establish government, construct railroads. Only the gold that accumulated after all drafts were made was capitol, and it gathered very slowly. We anticipated an overland railroad and a population of a million in ten years. Twice that length of time has been required. But our religious success is greater than we had any reason to anticipate. A vast emigration, a floating population, the "passionate hunger for gold," are not favorable to the progress of the Gospel. We are far away from the religious public sentiment of the world. - But God has wonderfully prospered us. Deep in ten thousand hearts are fastened the strong fibers of divine truth. All our communities abound with the means of grace. Especially our principle cities boldly announce their religious profession by the towers and spires of the churches rising above the roofs of the dwellings. With all the wickedness prevalent among us, still the Gospel is steadily advancing, and public Schools, Sunday Schools, Missions, Orphan Asylums and Houses of Relief, attest the mighty influence of the kingdom of God.
Two thirds of the persons present on that memorable day here described are dead. When another twenty years shall have fled scarce one will remain. But our works live forevermore. California, San Francisco, are to advance in their mighty career of wealth and power. The cause of Christ weeps over the nations, turning them to God. Oh, wonderful future! Pregnant with undying glory! our hearts leap forth rejoicingly foreseeing the prosperity of that dear land for which we live, toil and die. Oh, Cause of God! As we sink into the waters of forgetfulness our last prayer shall ascend for thee! God bless California! God prosper his Gospel which shall fill the earth with salvation and eternal life.
~ Occident.