some far land, a
kindred voice sing out, "Oh, why left I my
hame?" and it seems at once as if no beauty under the kind
heavens, and no society of the wise and good, can repay me
for my
absence from my country. And though I think I would
rather die
elsewhere, yet in my heart of hearts I long to be
buried among good Scots clods. I will say it fairly, it
grows on me with every year: there are no stars so lovely as
Edinburgh street-lamps. When I forget thee, auld Reekie, may
my right hand forget its cunning!
The happiest lot on earth is to be born a Scotchman. You
must pay for it in many ways, as for all other advantages on
earth. You have to learn the paraphrases and the shorter
catechism; you generally take to drink; your youth, as far as
I can find out, is a time of louder war against society, of
more
outcry and tears and
turmoil, than if you had been born,
for
instance, in England. But somehow life is warmer and
closer; the
hearth burns more redly; the lights of home shine
softer on the rainy street; the very names, endeared in verse
and music, cling nearer round our hearts. An Englishman may
meet an Englishman to-morrow, upon Chimborazo, and neither of
them care; but when the Scotch wine-grower told me of Mons
Meg, it was like magic.
"From the dim shieling on the misty island
Mountains divide us, and a world of seas;
Yet still our hearts are true, our hearts are Highland,
And we, in dreams, behold the Hebrides."
And, Highland and Lowland, all our hearts are Scotch.
Only a few days after I had seen M'Eckron, a message reached
me in my
cottage. It was a Scotchman who had come down a
long way from the hills to market. He had heard there was a
countryman in Calistoga, and came round to the hotel to see
him. We said a few words to each other; we had not much to
say - should never have seen each other had we stayed at
home, separated alike in space and in society; and then we
shook hands, and he went his way again to his ranche among
the hills, and that was all.
Another Scotchman there was, a
resident, who for the more
love of the common country, douce, serious, religious man,
drove me all about the
valley, and took as much interest in
me as if I had been his son: more, perhaps; for the son has
faults too
keenly felt, while the
abstractcountryman is
perfect - like a whiff of peats.
And there was yet another. Upon him I came suddenly, as he
was
calmly entering my
cottage, his mind quite
evidently bent
on
plunder: a man of about fifty,
filthy,
ragged, roguish,
with a chimney-pot hat and a tail coat, and a pursing of his
mouth that might have been envied by an elder of the kirk.
He had just such a face as I have seen a dozen times behind
the plate.
"Hullo, sir!" I cried. "Where are you going?"
He turned round without a quiver.
"You're a Scotchman, sir?" he said
gravely. "So am I; I come
from Aberdeen. This is my card," presenting me with a piece
of pasteboard which he had raked out of some
gutter in the
period of the rains. "I was just exa
mining this palm," he
continued, indicating the misbegotten plant before our door,
"which is the largest spAcimen I have yet observed in
Califoarnia."
There were four or five larger within sight. But where was
the use of
argument? He produced a tape-line, made me help
him to
measure the tree at the level of the ground, and
entered the figures in a large and
filthy pocket-book, all
with the
gravity of Solomon. He then thanked me profusely,
remarking that such little services were due between
countrymen; shook hands with me, "for add lang syne," as he
said; and took himself
solemnly away, radiating dirt and
humbug as he went.
A month or two after this
encounter of mine, there came a
Scot to Sacramento - perhaps from Aberdeen. Anyway, there
never was any one more Scotch in this wide world. He could
sing and dance, and drink, I
presume; and he played the pipes
with
vigour and success. All the Scotch in Sacramento became
infatuated with him, and spent their spare time and money,
driving him about in an open cab, between drinks, while he
blew himself
scarlet at the pipes. This is a very sad story.
After he had borrowed money from every one, he and his pipes
suddenly disappeared from Sacramento, and when I last heard,
the police were looking for him.
I cannot say how this story amused me, when I felt myself so
thoroughly ripe on both sides to be duped in the same way.
It is at least a curious thing, to conclude, that the races
which
wander widest, Jews and Scotch, should be the most
clannish in the world. But perhaps these two are cause and
effect: "For ye were strangers in the land of Egypt."
PART II - WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL
CHAPTER I. - TO INTRODUCE MR. KELMAR
ONE thing in this new country very particularly strikes a
stranger, and that is the number of antiquities. Already
there have been many cycles of population succeeding each
other, and passing away and leaving behind them relics.
These,
standing on into changed times, strike the imagination
as
forcibly as any pyramid or
feudal tower. The towns, like
the vineyards, are experimentally founded: they grow great
and
prosper by passing occasions; and when the lode comes to
an end, and the miners move
elsewhere, the town remains
behind them, like Palmyra in the desert. I suppose there
are, in no country in the world, so many deserted towns as
here in California.
The whole neighbourhood of Mount Saint Helena, now so quiet
and sylvan, was once alive with
mining camps and villages.
Here there would be two thousand souls under
canvas; there
one thousand or fifteen hundred ensconced, as if for ever, in
a town of comfortable houses. But the luck had failed, the
mines petered out; and the army of miners had
departed, and
left this quarter of the world to the rattlesnakes and deer
and grizzlies, and to the slower but steadier advance of
husbandry.
It was with an eye on one of these deserted places, Pine
Flat, on the Geysers road, that we had come first to
Calistoga. There is something singularly enticing in the
idea of going, rent-free, into a ready-made house. And to
the British merchant, sitting at home at ease, it may appear
that, with such a roof over your head and a spring of clear
water hard by, the whole problem of the squatter's existence
would be solved. Food, however, has yet to be considered, I
will go as far as most people on tinned meats; some of the
brightest moments of my life were passed over tinned mulli-
gatawney in the cabin of a sixteen-ton
schooner, storm-stayed
in Portree Bay; but after
suitable experiments, I pronounce
authoritatively that man cannot live by tins alone. Fresh
meat must be had on an occasion. It is true that the great
Foss, driving by along the Geysers road, wooden-faced, but
glorified with legend, might have been induced to bring us
meat, but the great Foss could hardly bring us milk. To take
a cow would have involved
taking a field of grass and a
milkmaid; after which it would have been hardly worth while
to pause, and we might have added to our colony a flock of
sheep and an
experienced butcher.
It is really very disheartening how we depend on other people
in this life. "Mihi est propositum," as you may see by the
motto, "id quod regibus;" and behold it cannot be carried
out, unless I find a neighbour rolling in cattle.
Now, my
principaladviser in this matter was one whom I will
call Kelmar. That was not what he called himself, but as
soon as I set eyes on him, I knew it was or ought to be his
name; I am sure it will be his name among the angels. Kelmar
was the store-keeper, a Russian Jew,
good-natured, in a very
thriving way of business, and, on equal terms, one of the
most serviceable of men. He also had something of the
expression of a Scotch country elder, who, by some
peculiarity, should chance to be a Hebrew. He had a
projecting under lip, with which he
continually smiled, or
rather smirked. Mrs. Kelmar was a singularly kind woman; and
the oldest son had quite a dark and
romanticbearing, and
might be heard on summer evenings playing
sentimental airs on
the violin.
I had no idea, at the time I made his
acquaintance, what an
important person Kelmar was. But the Jew store-keepers of
California, profiting at once by the needs and habits of the
people, have made themselves in too many cases the tyrants of
the rural population. Credit is offered, is pressed on the
new
customer, and when once he is beyond his depth, the tune
changes, and he is from thenceforth a white slave. I
believe, even from the little I saw, that Kelmar, if he
choose to put on the screw, could send half the settlers
packing in a
radius of seven or eight miles round Calistoga.
These are
continually paying him, but are never suffered to
get out of debt. He palms dull goods upon them, for they
dare not refuse to buy; he goes and dines with them when he
is on an outing, and no man is loudlier welcomed; he is their
family friend, the
director of their business, and, to a
degree
elsewhere unknown in modern days, their king.
For some reason, Kelmar always shook his head at the mention
of Pine Flat, and for some days I thought he disapproved of
the whole
scheme and was proportionately sad. One fine
morning, however, he met me, wreathed in smiles. He had
found the very place for me - Silverado, another old
miningtown, right up the mountain. Rufe Hanson, the
hunter, could
take care of us - fine people the Hansons; we should be close
to the Toll House, where the Lakeport stage called daily; it
was the best place for my health, besides. Rufe had been
consumptive, and was now quite a strong man, ain't it? In
short, the place and all its accompaniments seemed made for
us on purpose.
He took me to his back door,
whence, as from every point of
Calistoga, Mount Saint Helena could be seen
towering in the
air. There, in the nick, just where the eastern foothills
joined the mountain, and she herself began to rise above the
zone of forest - there was Silverado. The name had already
pleased me; the high station pleased me still more. I began
to inquire with some
eagerness. It was but a little while
ago that Silverado was a great place. The mine - a silver
mine, of course - had promised great things. There was quite
a
lively population, with several hotels and boarding-houses;
and Kelmar himself had opened a branch store, and done
extremely well - "Ain't it?" he said, appealing to his wife.
And she said, "Yes;
extremely well." Now there was no one
living in the town but Rufe the
hunter; and once more I heard
Rufe's praises by the yard, and this time sung in chorus.
I could not help perceiving at the time that there was
something
underneath; that no unmixed desire to have us
comfortably settled had inspired the Kelmars with this flow
of words. But I was
impatient to be gone, to be about my
kingly
project; and when we were offered seats in Kelmar's
waggon, I accepted on the spot. The plan of their next
Sunday's outing took them, by good fortune, over the border
into Lake County. They would carry us so far, drop us at the
Toll House, present us to the Hansons, and call for us again
on Monday morning early.
CHAPTER II - FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF SILVERADO
WE were to leave by six
precisely; that was
solemnly pledged