Portion of an undated letter. The reference to his brother’s son leads one to believe that the letter is to George, c. May 1857.

 

In the following July I saw Port Townsend and Payed my debts. I laboured two or three weeks on the Island to pay my passage to San Francisco. On the 21st of Feb. I left the Harbor of Victoria and on the 22nd in the shades of evening Cape Flattery at the mouth of the Straits of De Fuco faded away from our sight. On the 8th of March we saw the shores of California, the first land visible after leaving cape flattery and on the evening of the 10th we entered the harbor of San Francisco and saw that far famed City. That City of golden but delusive hopes. The City which has allured so many sons from their parents, so many husbands from their wives, so many lovers from the arms of their mistresses and given them back no more.

O! what will thy doom be Golden city? Great Sepulchre of noble men? Charnel House of ruined Spirits? Souls murdered in excited pursuit of the Ignis Fatuus which thy name has created?

On the 11th I stood on Terra Firma and wandered about in search of employment, a stranger in a strange city. Business was not brisk and a stranger had but a poor chance. I was not yet strong yet besides a seasickness of near three weeks duration had not invigorated me much. I returned on board and assisted in discharging the cargo of the Schooner which was squared timber. I then agreed for cook and steward for the trip back to Puget Sound. I did my duty, got discharged honorably on Vancouvers Island about May 1st., had another turn of ague and fever which shook me dreadfully for an entire week and Victoria’s Island keeps me yet.

It is now the 4th of May. The farmers have their crops in - potatoes are up and peas are up and will soon be in blossom. Our dry season has fairly set in. The days are warm and pleasant, the nights are cool which is the case the entire season. My door faces Uncle Sam’s dominions. I can look from my door or my window and see Uncle Sam’s Mountaintops which with snow in mid summer. The snow never melts on these mountaintops. Those dark lines down their sides are valleys where the mountain firs grow. The firs which love the cold.

I must now close my letter which has been a very long time commenced and which is yet far from being a complete letter. I will endeavour not to be so long over another nor make so long intervals. I will give you credit for being a good correspondent which I cannot claim to myself but I hope to do better in future when I have fewer annoyances. Do in future as you have done in past time, I will not complain.

My love to my brother’s wife and to my brother’s boy. God Bless the boy!

Your Brother

Whit. Chase