A shrine for that large heart;
It understood thee not, the Northern mind,
But coldly shrunk apart,
When those pale lips—from whence, an hour agone,
Flew out, like rifted light,
Winged words of wit—murmured their wailed "Alone"
To the pitying midnight.
And I have read thy life, its mournful story
Of loneliness and blight;
But o'er its close there shines a solemn glory,
A setting star's trailed light.
Margaret! white-robed, thy hair unbound, thy veil,
Most like a bride wert thou
When Ocean clasped thee, and, with lips all pale
And icy, kissed thy brow.
And lovely as a white unfolded blossom
Lay the child Angelo,
Hushed to his dreamless flower-sleep on that bosom
Which would not let him go.
Husband, and wife, and child together flutter
Up to the great white throne,
Where nevermore may Margaret Fuller utter
That piteous "Alone!"
The Contents
| The Printer's Foreword to this Edition | page v |
| Dame Shirley | page xxvii |
Being a Paper prepared by Mrs. Mary Viola Tingley Lawrence to be read before a San Francisco literary society.
| Letter theFirst Part One | page 1 |
THE JOURNEY TO RICH BAR
A thousand people and but one physician. The author's husband seeks health and business. Journey through deep snow, in midsummer, to reach Rich Bar. The revivifying effect of mountain atmosphere. Arrival of twenty-nine physicians in less than three weeks. The author's purpose to leave San Francisco and join her husband at the mines. Direful predictions and disapprobation of friends. Indelicacy of her position among an almost exclusively male population. Indians, ennui, cold. Leaves for Marysville. Scanty fare on way. Meets husband. Falls from mule. An exhausting ride. A midnight petit souper at Marysville. Dr. C. leaves on muleback for Bidwell's Bar. The author follows in springless wagon. Beautiful scenery. Marysville Buttes. Sierra Nevada. Indian women, their near-nudity, beautiful limbs and lithe forms, picturesqueness. Flower-seed gathering. Indian bread. Marvelous handiwork of basketry. A dangerous precipice. A disclaimer of bravery. Table Mountain. Arrival at Bidwell's Bar. Rejoins husband. Uninviting quarters. Proceed to Berry Creek.
| Letter the First Part Two | page 15 |
THE JOURNEY TO RICH BAR
A moonlit midsummer-night's ride on muleback. Joyous beginning. The Indian trail lost. Camping out for the night. Attempts in morning to find the trail. A trying ride in the fierce heat of midday. The trail found. A digression of thirty miles. Lack of food, and seven more miles to ride. To rest impossible. Mad joy when within sight of Berry Creek Rancho. Congratulations upon escape from Indians on the trail. Frenchman and wife murdered. The journey resumed. Arrival at the "Wild Yankee's". A breakfast with fresh butter and cream. Indian bucks, squaws, and papooses. Their curiosity. Pride of an Indian on his ability to repeat one line of a song. Indian women. Extreme beauty of their limbs; slender ankles and statuesque feet; haggardness of expression and ugliness of features. Girl of sixteen, a "wildwood Cleopatra," an exception to the general hideousness. The California Indian not the Indian of the Leatherstocking tales. A stop at the Buckeye Rancho. Start for Pleasant Valley Rancho. The trail again lost. Camping out for the night. Growling bears. Arrive at Pleasant Valley Rancho. Flea-haunted shanty. Beauty of the wilderness. Quail and deer. The chaparrals, and their difficulty of penetration by the mules. Escape from a rattlesnake. Descending precipitous hill on muleback. Saddle-girth breaks. Harmless fall from the saddle. Triumphant entry into Rich Bar. Tribute to mulekind. The Empire Hotel. "A huge shingle palace."
| Letter the Second | page 33 |
RICH BAR—ITS HOTELS AND PIONEER FAMILIES
The Empire Hotel, the hotel of Rich Bar. The author safely ensconced therein. California might be called the "Hotel State," from the plenitude of its taverns, etc. The Empire the only two-story building in Rich Bar, and the only one there having glass windows. Built by gamblers for immoral purposes. The speculation a failure, its occupants being treated with contempt or pity. Building sold for a few hundred dollars. The new landlord of the Empire. The landlady, an example of the wear and tear of crossing the plains. Left behind her two children and an eight-months-old baby. Cooking for six people, her two-weeks-old baby kicking and screaming in champagne-basket cradle. "The sublime martyrdom of maternity". Left alone immediately after infant's birth. Husband dangerously ill, and cannot help. A kindly miner. Three other women at the Bar. The "Indiana girl". "Girl" a misnomer. "A gigantic piece of humanity". "Dainty" habits and herculean feats. A log-cabin family. Pretty and interesting children. "The Miners' Home". Its petite landlady tends bar. "Splendid material for social parties this winter."
| Letter the Third | page 43 |
LIFE AND FORTUNE AT THE BAR-DIGGINGS
Flashy shops and showy houses of San Francisco. Rich Bar charmingly fresh and original. A diminutive valley. Río de las Plumas, or Feather River. Rich Bar, the Barra Rica of the Spaniards. An acknowledgment of "a most humiliating consciousness of geological deficiencies". Palatial splendor of the Empire Hotel. Round tents, square tents, plank hovels, log cabins, etc. "Local habitations" formed of pine boughs, and covered with old calico shirts. The "office" of Dr. C. excites the risibilities of the author. One of the "finders" of Rich Bar. Had not spoken to a woman for two years. Honors the occasion by an "investment" in champagne. The author assists in drinking to the honor of her arrival at the Bar. Nothing done in California without the sanctifying influence of the "spirit". History of the discovery of gold at Rich Bar. Thirty-three pounds of gold in eight hours. Fifteen hundred dollars from a panful of "dirt". Five hundred miners arrive at Rich Bar in about a week. Smith Bar, Indian Bar, Missouri Bar, and other bars. Miners extremely fortunate. Absolute wealth in a few weeks. Drunken gamblers in less than a year. Suffering for necessaries of life. A mild winter. A stormy spring. Impassable trails. No pack-mule trains arrive. Miners pack flour on their backs for over forty miles. Flour sells at over three dollars a pound. Subsistence on feed-barley. A voracious miner. An abundance placed in storage.
| Letter the Fourth | page 55 |
ACCIDENTS—SURGERY—DEATH—FESTIVITY
Frightful