\t\t\t\tEASTWARD BY RAIL.<\/p>\n
[FROM AN OCCASIONAL CORRESPONDENT OF THE ALTA.]
\n[NO. 1.]
\nTravellers’ Tricks of Sleeping\u2014 Rations on the
\nRoad\u2014 Scenery Around Salt Lake\u2014 Fall-
\ning into the Hands of the Enemy\u2014 A
\nHail Storm in the Mountains\u2014 Crossing
\nthe “Bad Place”\u2014 Echo Canon\u2014 Trials
\nand Tribulations\u2014 in Smooth Water
\nOnce More.<\/p>\n
Omaha, May 2d.1869.
\nEditors Alta: I avail myself of this first oppor-
\ntunity to fulfil my promise of giving you a few
\njottings of our overland trip via Central and Union
\nPacific Railroad. Although you may have all the
\nparticulars by this time from other sources, still
\nthere is always somebody contemplating the over-
\nland trip, and who would like to know all the de-
\ntails, as I did myself.<\/p>\n
How People Travel Under Difficulties.<\/p>\n
The party, consisting of General and Mrs. Fry,
\nGeneral and Mrs. Crittondon, D. B. Shorb and fam-
\nily, Mrs. General Crook, Mr. Van Vorhies and
\nfamily, General McCullough, Benj. Holladay, Jr.,
\nA. P. Crittenden, and the undersigned, left San
\nFrancisco on Monday, May 17th. Sacramento next
\nmorning, the 18th, and without change of cars went
\nthrough to Promontory Point, arriving at 1 o’clock
\nthe next evening. This far the trip was perfectly
\ndelightful. There were no sleeping cars, but we
\nhad one of the new cars just received, which for
\ncomfort cannot be surpassed. It requires some
\ningenuity to make such a disposition of the human
\nform divine to the limits of a seat of a railroad
\ncar so as to ensure comfort and rest, but short
\npeople can manage to do it by a system of doubling
\nup like a jack-knife, only placing a shawl or pillow
\nagainst the window and facing the centre of the
\ncar, a sort of “sit up.” Again, by facing two seats,
\ntaking out the cushions and laying them “fore and
\naft,” which operation however leaves the feet to
\nhang down unsupported. Most of us tried all the
\nknown experiments, and many before unknown –
\nspeaking for myself. I commenced at A, and by a
\nrigorous course of experiment put myself
\nthrough a course of alphabetical illustration
\nthat would hare done honor to the perform-
\nances of the India-rubber Man. I reefed in my
\nfeet, I stretched them out and upset the Conductor,
\nbrakeman and other nocturnal attach\u00e9s\u00a0 who
\nrush frantically through the car all night. They
\nswore a good deal, and I took sufficient interest in
\nthe proceedings and the welfare of my continua-
\ntions to contribute little to my chances of not
\nmeeting many good people when I leave these gay
\nand festive scenes. I got a “crick” in the neck
\noccasionally, and often my continuations got asleep
\nsooner than I did; but to stretch them and keep
\nmy mind occupied, I occasionally got up and tickled
\nwith a piece of twisted paper some chap’s nose who
\nwas enjoying himself too much and blowing too
\nstrong a trumpet. The ladies and children being
\nshorter, got along first-rate, and turned out in the
\nmorning bright and with excellent appetites. Even
\na blessed little baby that we had along crowed its
\nperfect satisfaction. We had ample supplies, and
\na colored individual who had campaigned through
\nmany a worse field, accompanying us, soon pro-
\nduced a substantial cold breakfast, and filling the
\ncoffee pot at the wayside station, we fared sump-
\ntuously. Meantime we were speeding on at 25
\nmiles the hour over the alkali desert of the Hum-
\nboldt, without a particle of dust to annoy us, and
\nall went merrily. The cars rolled so steadily that
\nthere was no difficulty in reading, and even writing
\nlegibly, and the opportunity was improved by one
\nof our party, who seemed to have a sweetheart for
\nevery station, and despatched bulletins every few
\nhours, and I hereby take occasion to assert that he
\nis a gay deceiver. The time patted pleasantly be-
\ntween reading and passing the baby around\u2014 the
\ngentleman alluded to being sentenced to trot it in
\nregular turn by way of compensating for past
\nneglect in that line. The coal scuttle, doing tem-
\nporary duty as a gong, was sounded for lunch, and
\np\u00e2t\u00e9 de fois gras,sandwiches, rolls, etc, again served
\nout\u2014the gentlemen becoming the ladies’ disobe-
\ndient servants fur the nonce, and again at evening,
\naccompanied by a cup of tea made over a spirit
\nlamp.<\/p>\n
Scenery by the Roadside.<\/p>\n
Passing through the Humboldt Desert and sage-
\nbrush we approached the dominions of Brigham
\nYoung, and a turn in the road suddenly brought
\nus in full view of\u00a0 Salt Lake, along the shores of
\nwhich we spent admiring its beautiful waters, just
\nruffled by a pleasant little breeze that bore a most
\nrefreshing odor of green grass and flowers though
\nthe open car windows from its verdure clad shore.
\nNumerous little villages and thrifty farms spread
\nthemselves along the slope from the snow clad
\nhills, all wearing an air of cheerfulness and con-
\ntentment that produced a favorable impression of
\nthe industry and success of married muchness;
\nthe natural idea being that it would take most of
\na man’s time to settle little family jars and that
\nthere would be none left to devote to territorial ob-
\njects; that a harp of so many feminine strings
\ncould be kept in tune so long! But probably Chi-
\nnese tactics were brought into use, as an old Chi-
\nnese merchant explained ot me once in Canton
\nwhen I asked him how he managed to preserve
\norder in his household-he having six wives. He
\nsays: “Oh, easy enough; spouse kick up bobbery
\ngive em bamboo all around” — a striking proof of
\nsound judgment, insuring justice to the right one
\nand a little warning to the others. The Mormons
\nmay have a wife or two more than our views would
\nsanction, but why should we seek to meddle with
\nthese peculiar institutions? Leave it out to a jury
\nof married men and the verdict would be that the
\nluxury brought its own punishment in this world,
\nand if life was too short,give them the same lot in
\nthe next\u2014 poor souls! At any rate, the picture of
\nMormon life from a car window is pleasant
\nenough\u2014 the neat farm-houses and buildings, the
\ntown fences, the flowers, fruit trees and shrubbery
\nconvey an idea of peace and contentment any-
\nhow, whether it really exists or not; and, more-
\nover, of a “well-to-do” population. Their farms
\nare watered by gurgling streams that come rushing
\ndown from the snow -clad peaks and through the
\ngardens and shrubbery, refreshing to vegetation
\nand the eye.<\/p>\n
An Irruption of Barbarians.<\/p>\n
We arrived at the present terminus of the Cen-
\ntral Pacific Road, Promontory Point, at 11 P.M.
\nWednesday, and here a change came over the pro-
\nceedings. About 150 discharged laborers forced an
\nentrance into the cars in spite of the efforts of the
\nrailroad employ\u00e9s to prevent it, taking possession
\nof seats and turning out through passengers. The
\ncontractors and agent, were powerless\u00a0 to prevent
\nit, and the gentlemen Democrats informed them
\nthat if they attempted to switch them off or play
\nany tricks they (the Democrats aforesaid,) would
\nnot only pitch the train off the track but would
\nblow off the top of the contractor’s head\u2014 and their
\nlawless looks, wild manners, and free exhibition of
\nloaded revolvers, gave strong evidence of their
\nwillingness to do it. Of course we were driven out,
\nand even if we had not been, did not care to spend
\nthe night, in such high-toned society. So, after
\nmuch negotiation, succeeded in securing a caboose
\ncar, as it is called\u2014 being a sort of baggage car at-
\ntached to the engine for the use of the employ\u00e9s.
\nIt had side seats and cushions, and although some-
\nwhat rough, was decidedly preferable to the rear
\ncars, with its rough customers. By keeping the
\ndoors locked, and standing guard, we managed
\nto hold possession, which we could not have done ex-
\ncept for the presence of the ladies and children, for
\nwhom, fortunately, the roughs had more respect
\nthan for us. We finally got off at 4 in the morning,
\nafter tedious delay, and very thankful that a row
\ndid not ensue. With the blankets and shawls we
\nmanaged to keep the ladies and children passably
\ncomfortable, the gentlemen taking the floor.<\/p>\n
Another Detention<\/p>\n
At Ogden we were again detained four hours
\nwhy or wherefore nobody knew\u2014 and arriving at
\nWeber Canon, had the pleasure of learning that
\nthe bridge had been seriously damaged by the
\nfreshet, and the train came to a halt. On investi-
\ngation we learned that a large force were at work
\nstrengthening it, and that we might be able to cross
\nduring the day; so we had recourse to the private
\nstores, and Uncle Tom passed around the contents
\nof the baskets, serving out rations in a primitive
\nmanner\u2014 the two tin plates, three tin caps, solitary
\nmug and vacant oyster can being assigned to the
\nladies, while the gentlemen\u00a0 improvised jack-knives
\nand fingers, and we had a jolly lunch, the ladies
\nseemingly blessed with appetites that would ruin
\nany hotel they boarded at. The spirit lamp did
\nduty again as the baby’s cook stove and it (the
\nbaby) crowed and laughed, evidently enjoying the
\njoke of being a baby, and having thereby the best
\nof us. We all got out and viewed the magnificent
\nscenery of the canon, its lofty palisades towering
\nup hundreds of feet, threatening to fall on our heads
\nand crush us to powder; the river, foaming and
\nseething alongside of the train, dashing over the
\nrocks, almost drowning our voices in its roar; but
\nwe did not like the idea of passing; a night in such
\nclose proximity.<\/p>\n
A Thrilling Scene.<\/p>\n
The party, with the exception of the subscriber,
\nwho took that occasion to catch a nap, all crossed
\nthe bridge, preferring that course to risking the\u00a0 ex-
\nperiment in the car, as did most of the passengers,
\nas word was given out that the attempt would be
\nmade. Just it was about ready a thunder and
\nhail storm suddenly burst upon their devoted
\nheads, so unexpectedly that there was no time to
\nreturn to the cars or obtain shelter\u2014 in fact there
\nwas none. The starting of the train awoke your
\nintelligent correspondent, who, putting his head
\nout of the window, looked down upon a foaming
\ncauldron that would have crushed cars and con-
\ntents like egg-shells had they gone down. Slowly
\nthe engine moved onward, the passengers watch-
\ning its progress with breathless interest as it moved
\nat a snail-like pace. It reached the middle of the
\nbridge, and about half the train was upon it when
\nthe very waters seemed to hush their roaring;
\nthe structure trembled, the joints cracked
\nand creaked. On, on, the train crept, spanning en-
\ntirely across its length, and at that instant, bearing
\nits entire weight upon the bridge, the thunder
\nreverberated through the canon, the clouds of inky
\nblackness lowered their frowning brows over, us,
\nthe engine reached the opposite shore and was on
\nsolid ground; the engineer clapped on steam, she
\n“snorted” and bounded ahead, and we were over.
\nA shout went up from five hundred throats; then a
\ncheer; the whistle screeched its triumphant note,
\nwhich echoed up and down the canon; the Rubicon
\nwas passed; the subscriber, not having any one to
\naid him, took a solitary drink of soda water. Then
\ncame the scramble to get aboard again. You have
\nseen chickens in a thunder storm drooping and be-
\ndraggled-chickens were nowhere to our party. The
\nrain had caused the colors to run from gay ribbons
\nand the faces of the ladies were streaked and rain-
\nbow hued, and as that poor little baby was passed
\nup a big drop from the heavens poised at the end of
\nits little nose- a wee wet little waif but crowing
\nand chuckling; a veritable little Mark Tapley,
\nand enjoying the fun hugely. (Mem.-The best lit-
\ntle baby as ever was.) All aboard-a screech-a
\njerk-and we were off but slowly and carefully, for
\nthe road hereabout was not quite as safe as Mont-
\ngomery street; around jutting crags, along the bank
\nof the foaming torrents we wound for several
\nmiles, but at last emerged into a large country.
\nAn hour or two later we entered
\nEcho Canon,<\/p>\n
One of the most remarkable geological curiosities
\nin any country. The scenery was grand; great,
\nhigh, perpendicular, red sandstone rocks towered
\nhundreds of feet above our heads, standing forth
\nat the edge of the table lands, alone, like grim
\ngiant sentinels, frowning upon us who thus dared
\nto invade their strongholds. It requires an abler
\npen than mine to do justice to the grand and awe-
\ninspiring scenery we passed through for the next
\nfive miles. Bierstadt should portray it on canvas,
\nand then throw down his brush and palette, and
\npaint no more. All he has ever done would seem
\ntame and spiritless by comparison. The black
\nclouds again walled up, dense and dark, and pour-
\ned down upon our devoted beads a sheet of hail
\nwhich rattled against the windows and upon the
\nroof of our car with such force\u00a0 that our voices were
\ndrowned in its roar. The next important station we
\nreached was Wasatch, where another vexatious
\ndelay occurred, and we lay there all night, the con-
\nductor kindly permitting the ladies to remain in
\nthe caboose, two gents with them; the balance
\nsought lodgings in a stationary sleeping car, on a
\nside track some distance off, to which we floundered
\nthrough the mud, stumbling over all sorts of ob-
\nsticals to reach it.
\nPerils by the Way.
\nAt 5:30 next morning we started again. The road
\nwas very rough and we ran slow , but still we rolled
\nabout like a ship in\u00a0 heavy sea. Our coarse lay
\nover a bleak, rolling country, and the rain and hail
\ndrove against the car windows, the wind howled,
\nand desolation reigned generally outside; but with
\nUncle Tom’s never-failing lunch, and an improvis-
\ned glee club, we managed\u00a0 to kill time very pleas-
\nantly. Occasionally we passed a solitary hut, depots
\nfor provisions and snow-shoes, provided for snow-
\nbound trains, and to afford shelter when the trains
\nindulge in their favorite amusement along there,
\ni e., turning bottom up, or what in railroad par-
\nlance is called “ditching them.” A more desolate
\nregion never had its gloomy silence disturbed by
\nman. But on we rolled, and at 12 reached Green
\nRiver, a turbid and rapid stream, where we met
\nwith the agreeable intelligence that the bridge
\nwas impassable for cars. The passengers must cross
\non foot, and a few hand-cars would takeover the mails
\nand trunks, but not the females. Again we had to
\ntumble out, and again tote the numerous satchels,
\nbundles, baskets, blankets, coats, cloaks, and odds
\nand ends, and for the fiftieth time I mentally en-
\ndangered my chances for better things. We had
\ntoted and lugged that infernal lot of luggage until
\nall were sick and tired of the sight of it; for mind
\nyou, everybody looks after their own, and if you
\ndon’t, good-bye to it. Our ladies had got to be very
\nexpert at it, and, laying aside all ideas of being
\nwaited upon, seized carpet-sacks and lunch-baskets
\nwith a vigorous grasp that they never believed
\nthemselves capable of. There was no time for oer-
\nemony; everybody seized something, and a long
\npull of nearly a mile started the perspiration at
\nevery pore\u2014 for the sun had come out hot, and
\njeered us at our work. It was a remarkable fact
\nthat the train was never in a hurry,
\nexcept when we had that infernal lot of
\ntraps\u00a0 to “tote,” and then that fiendish whistle
\nwould screech, the engine snort, everybody would
\nyell ” hurry up, hurry up!” and, of course, add to
\nthe confusion. Somebody would drop something,
\nOld Tom would go down under his staggering load
\nof lunch baskets, and even the blessed baby was
\noccasionally dropped; but it never whimpered. I
\nbare bandied my traps until I hate the sight of my
\nsatchel, blanket and even lunch-basket, and I have
\nwished the whole lot in\u2014 well, San Francisco –
\nabout five hundred times. Baggage on this route
\nis a perfect nuisance; I mean small packages; you
\ncan get nobody to carry them for you, and the
\ntrains never stop long enough for you to get them
\nout, but backs down on a side track, and you must
\nrun after it, stumble over rubbish, get a jet of
\nsteam in your ear, and your head nearly taken off
\nby the screaming and snorting, to say nothing of
\ngetting into soft spots and mud up to your knees,
\nfor it is very soft in a new country that has just
\nbeen stirred up by ten thousand good Democrats,
\nwho have not carried off quite ail of it on their per-
\nsons.
\nAfter getting across Green River Bridge and, by
\ngood luck, getting another caboose car, we stored
\naway baggage and brought forth the creature com-
\nforts. A good supper from our own resources put
\nus in good humor again. An hoar and a half later
\nwe got off and had a good run to tho next station,
\nwhere we succeeded in getting into a sleeping-car,
\nabout 11 P. M.. and all turned in for a square sleep.
\nFrom this point, the load being good, we fairly
\nflew for a stretch of a hundred miles or more at the
\nrate of 40 miles an hour.<\/p>\n
Podqers.<\/p>\n
http:\/\/cdnc.ucr.edu\/cgi-bin\/cdnc?a=d&d=DAC18690601.2.14&e=——-en–20–1–txt-txIN——-\t\t<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
EASTWARD BY RAIL. [FROM AN OCCASIONAL CORRESPONDENT OF THE ALTA.] [NO. 1.] Travellers’ Tricks of Sleeping\u2014 Rations on the Road\u2014 Scenery Around Salt Lake\u2014 Fall- ing into the Hands of the Enemy\u2014 A Hail Storm in the Mountains\u2014 Crossing the “Bad Place”\u2014 Echo Canon\u2014 Trials and Tribulations\u2014 in Smooth Water Once More. Omaha, May 2d.1869. … [Read more…]<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[386,1240,1410,1411,1471,1488,1773],"class_list":{"0":"entry","1":"post","2":"publish","3":"author-sergneri","4":"has-excerpt","5":"post-122","7":"format-standard","8":"category-california-newspaper-archive","9":"post_tag-central-railroad","10":"post_tag-omaha","11":"post_tag-rail-travel","12":"post_tag-railroad","13":"post_tag-sacramento","14":"post_tag-san-francisco","15":"post_tag-union-pacific-railroad"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sergneri.net\/wordpress\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/122","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sergneri.net\/wordpress\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sergneri.net\/wordpress\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sergneri.net\/wordpress\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sergneri.net\/wordpress\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=122"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.sergneri.net\/wordpress\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/122\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sergneri.net\/wordpress\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=122"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sergneri.net\/wordpress\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=122"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sergneri.net\/wordpress\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=122"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}