William D. Davies Visits the Welsh in Utah in 1891

William D. Davies Visits the Welsh in Utah in 1891

EDITED AND TRANSLATED BY PHILLIPS G. DAVIES

MATERIAL ABOUT THE EARLY WELSH SETTLERS, DOth Mormon and not, in Utah is fairly limited. Frederick S. Buchanan's chapter on the British in The Peoples of Utah provides some interesting information about the Welsh, but there is not very much of it. Further material about the Utah Welsh in the early days can be found in chapters 26 and 27 of William D. Davies's America, a Gwledigaethau Bywyd [America, and the politics of life], published in Welsh in Merthyr Tydfil, Wales, in 1897. Davies spent several days in Spanish Fork, Provo, Salt Lake City, and Ogden in early March of 1891. His account first appeared in the Welsh-language newspaper for which he worked, Y Drych [The mirror], which was published in Utica, New York. This material seems not to have been translated heretofore.

The highlights of Davies's brief travel journal appear to be quite detailed accounts about the well-known Welsh musician Evan Stephens, director of the Tabernacle Choir, and the Welsh poet John Jones Davies. Of more general interest is the surprisingly favorable impression Davies gained of the Latter-day Saints. Although many Welsh had been converted to the Mormon religion by this time, other Welshmen seldom viewed them with the tolerance and even praise bestowed by Davies.

Davies was born in Carmarthenshire, South W'ales, on June 15, 1838, and received little formal education. Although he seriously considered entering the ministry of one of the Welsh denominations, he instead came to the United States in 1868 and lived in Pennsylvania until his death in 1900.

In October 1881 he embarked on a trip of nearly a year and a half through the Welsh settlements collecting funds for the Welsh chapel at Hyde Park, Pennsylvania. Later, he became employed by Y Drych as a traveling supervisor. As such, he visited the various settlements again in the late 1880s and early 1890s to call upon local correspondents and to gain new subscribers for the newspaper. Accounts of his travels along with poems, essays, and autobiographical material are found in America and the earlier Llwybrau Bywyd [The paths of life], published in 1889.

The translation of Davies's travel account is quite literal and follows his practices in the use of abbreviations and numbers. Apart from Drych, words in italics were in English in the original text.

FROM DENVER TO UTAH

Denver is continuing to grow, and it has in it many excellent buildings which have been constructed since I was here four years ago. They are as majestic as the chief buildings of the large cities of the East such as New York and Chicago. Its population is 110,000. It is located on or between two rivers, 5,195 feet above sea level, and it is considered to be one of the healthiest and most beautiful cities in the world. It is likely that only a few would be able to compare to it in growth, riches, and beauty. There are many Welsh in it, and some have built a beautiful chapel since I was here the time before, and the number of church members has doubled in four years. Their old minister, the Rev. William Charles, has gone to his rest, and a young man from Wales by the name of the Rev. David Edwards has taken his place. The singing is good under the leadership of Charles Davies, the representative of the Welsh coal company of Erie in Denver. The Baptists have also started a Sunday School recentiy, and that has made a gap in the church of the Calvinistic Methodists. But I did not feel like canvassing Denver this time because it was a dead time for business, and many of the Welsh are idle as a consequence. The town contains many young people from various parts of the States, including several from Utica, the home of the Drych. Among them is Miss Ellen Watkins, the sister of Mrs. R. E. Roberts. Denver is agreeing with her well.

On the morning of February 25, I departed from Denver at nine o'clock on the Denver & Rio Grande R. R. on the border of the Rocky Mountains for 120 miles and reached Pueblo at about one o'clock after passing many romantic sights including Colarado [sic] Springs, a resort for many seekers of health and pleasure. The population of the town is 10,000 and it is located 72 miles from Denver. Its height is 5,982 feet, and from it one can see white headed Pike's Peak kissing the clouds at a height of 14,147 feet; that is, the crest of the top of mountainous Colorado, some eight miles to the west of the town.

Pueblo is a manufacturing town which is called "The Pittsburg [sic] of the West." But it is still only a baby in comparison to the Pittsburg of the East, at least. Its population is 25,000 and its elevation is 4,667 feet. There are scores of Welsh in the town and most of them are working in the steel works. I do not know of any Welshman in business except the Hughes Brothers who sell wood and some who buy hen coops in Denver, Trinidad, and Pueblo. I received lodging from their sister, Mrs. M. A. Roberts, 114, East 9th Street, the widow of Robert M. Roberts, formerly of Milwaukee, Wis. An old lodging house for traveling Congregational ministers was their former place when I visited Milwaukee, for Mr. Roberts had been a respected deacon until the end of his life. Mrs. Roberts wished me to remember her to Dr. Gwesyn Jones and others of her old acquaintances.

Next I went on the carriages of the Denver and Rio Grande R. R. for 32 miles in a westerly direction to Florence, a town which had been built because of the oil wells in the district and which has a population of 1,000. Its elevation is 5,199.

Next I visited at Coal Creek, Rockvale, and Williamsburg, villages near each other some five miles from Florence [on the] Atchison & Santa, Fee [sic] R. R. There are coal workings in the latter two, but there are not as many Welsh in them as there were four years ago because the administration of the workshops has changed. John M. Davies, the agent for the Drych in Rockvale, has gone to Canon City to work. Things have run down at Coal Creek so that many of the houses and the businesses are idle, and the large Welsh chapel and the church is without a single minister. But they have given a call to the Rev. D. E. Evans (Trelech) of Red Oak, Iowa, to come and serve them. He has not answered the call as of yet. I believe that Coal Creek would be a suitable field for a good minister to work in and to do good at. The large chapel was full the Sunday night when I was there listening to a sermon in English. It is said that the population of Coal Creek is about 1,500 and the god Bacchus has eight of his temples there. Thus it can be seen that the god of drunkenness is much more popular in Coal Creek than the God of the chapels!

Canon City is a small and beautiful town, famous as a place to stay to seek a little recreation of body and spirit. It contains the penitentiary of the State of Colorado. I saw my old friend John M. Davies, formerly of Bellevue, Pa. there, and it was a pleasure for him and me to get to shake hands as free men outside of the disciplinary authority of the prison. With cheerfulness in his brow, he wished me to remember him to all his friends, even those in the Penitentiary. I saw him watching the malefactors with a gun in his hand.

FROM COLORADO TO UTAH

The Grand Canon [of the Arkansas, i.e., Royal Gorge] is one of the wonders of the world. I went into the cleft at quarter after three in the afternoon. The cliffs on every side are 2,627 feet high and six miles long. I will give up trying to describe this romantic sight.

At 5:35 I was at Salida, the population of which is 3,000. It is located 217 miles from Denver at an elevation of 7,049. There the Denver and Rio Grande R. R. divides — one branch going to the north to Leadville and the other branch going to the south to Gunnison, Crested Butte, Black Canon, and Montrose, and meets with the new branch at Grand Junction, 425 miles from Denver.

1 chose to go on the broad gauge, and the first place I arrived at after leaving Salida was Leadville in the region of the clouds. They are all covered with white snow. When I reached it I did not see much sign of growth since I had been there four years ago. [Material on Leadville is all but identical with material in chapter 29 of the earlier Llywbrau and has been deleted here.]

Behold me now being carried in the carriages of the Denver and Rio Grande R. R. for about 400 miles further to the West, between, across, and through the rocks and the mountains of Colorado and Utah. And it is proper for me to say that the land is an empty deserted one, horrible, without many human inhabitants in it, nor, truly, many tame creatures and birds. I saw one bird ascending to the heavens from the valley of the Grand River, as if to say that the earth was too cold and unsociable for it, and that it was taking its wings away from the civilized earth to attempt to be comfortable. In noticing all the romantic and vast variety of the views, the greatness of the panorama which I was going so swiftly through, the saying of Evan Ty Clai, in his history of Siencyn Penhydd, came to my mind forcefully. When he came to the top of one of the Welsh hills and saw more of the land than he had ever seen before, and looking at the extensiveness of the land, he raised his hands in amazement and said, "Well! Well! this extensiveness is the world." And so it was that I felt. Behold me having set forth on this trip over a year ago from Scranton, Pa., to the direction of the far West, and despite the fact that I went hundreds of miles on some days, and to my amazement, in the center of the ledge of the rocky bone of the continent where I am yet; that is, the unmatched hiding place of the Mormons, without knowing that I would be able to reach the side of the western bed of the never ceasing American civilization, because there was nearly a thousand miles yet between me and the wet and salty wall; that is, the Pacific.

Some eighteen miles to the south of Pleasant Valley there is a coal mine and some Welsh working in it. But although I meant to visit some of those at the Junction, I was compelled to go away on the road because the work is slowing down and I decided that it was unwise to go there.

Spanish Fork, on the extensive plain of good land, is 662 miles from Denver and 54 from Salt Lake City, and was the next place that I went to. The valley is watered by snow water which comes and which runs in the summer through artificial ditches. But it is four miles to the station of the town which is in a fork in the shadow of the rock (in appearance) according to its name, and the houses are fairly scattered out and they are fairly poor on the whole. The population of the place is between three and four thousand. The Welsh are the main element in the town and are fairly numerous, but many of them are unable to read Welsh. Of course, it is a Mormon town, but they are so similar to other people that I was not able to tell or to be angered by the Welsh that belong to that sect, and I found them to be loving and cheerful. Misters Thomas Charles Martell and D. T. Davies went with me willingly to see the readers of Welsh in the town. One particular thing that I noted there was that the farmers live in the town in earth houses, nearly all of them, with an acre or two of garden belonging to each house. It was established in this manner for advantages of defense in the times of the Indians. Also the people have their cooperative stores (cooperatives) to buy their goods in, and in this way they can participate in the profits. I understand that our compatriots are generally in good circumstances. One religious service in Welsh is held every week.

Provo City is the county seat of Utah county. The distance from Denver is 689 miles; the population is about 7,000; its height is 4,517 feet. Provo is considered to be one of the most beautiful towns which belong to the Mormon population in the territory. The streets are wide, and water is running on all sides, and there are also some trees to shade it. To the south of the town is a lake of fresh water which is 30 miles across and eight broad. To the north-east are the Wasatck [sic] Mountains which are covered by snow which melts in the summer and provides the town with an abundance of pure water through the bed of the Timpanogas [sic] river. Provo is seen as the Garden of Utah, and doubtless it will be fulfilling its name in the summer. The majority of the population in the town are Mormons, but the gentiles are quickly growing in numbers there. The Mormons have five chapels and one large and beautiful Tabernacle to hold their meetings in. The other religious groups have four chapels, and there are about eleven temples to the god Bacchus. The Mormons say that the customs of the gentiles have come with their several contaminated temples to the town, although the discipline of their church prohibits its members from dealing in intoxicating drinks. There are not many who speak Welsh in Provo. The first of those I went to see was John Jones Davies (Ieuan Ddu) who has been familiar to the readers of the Drych for years as a correspondent, poet, and literary man of a good sort. He is recognized as such in Wales by the literary world because of his literary efforts in various areas. He was born at Alltwen, Pontardawe, Glamorganshire, South Wales — in the same house in which Ednyfed was born. One of the last literary feats of Ieuan Ddu was his fictional tale about "Llewelyn, Our Last Ruler," and he intends to publish it in a book quickly. I had not made a personal acquaintance with Ieuan Ddu before; but to my pleasure, I found him a welcoming and social gentleman, patriotic and interested in literature. And although Provo is an English-speaking town, Mr. Davies uses Welsh with his family and thus his children are readers of Welsh, and one of them has said that the Drych is the best newspaper in the world! If it would be convenient for some of the preachers or literary persons of Wales to call at Provo, Utah, they would be able to be certain to be welcomed by the family of Ieuan Ddu. Although they have been living in the land of the Mormons for years, Mrs. Davies and her oldest son remain Methodists nevertheless. The calling of Mr. Davies is the selling of books, and he has filled some honorable offices in the Mormon society. He went with me to see several of his brothers: John G. Jones, Evan Wride, and the Rev. David John, who is an Archbishop in the Mormon church although he had been a minister with the Baptists in Castellnewydd Emlyn. He is a cheerful and zealous Welshman and a literary person and scholar to a high degree. In defense of the moral reputation of his compatriots, he and Ieuan Ddu assured me that there was not a single Welsh woman in Provo who has conformed with plural marriage in the population of 7,000. And he said that only a few of the Mormons are practicing plural marriage these days despite the fact that the teaching is scriptural. But because I intended to get to Salt Lake City and to remain there a few days, it is likely that I will have a chance to speak the next time about Mormonism some more.

FROM SALT LAKE CITY TO SAN FRANCISCOSPENDING SUNDAY IN SALT LAKE CITY, THE SEION OF THE MORMONS

On March 8th, I was in Salt Lake City. According to the old saying, "Be a Roman when you are in Rome," and, in part from inquisitive curiosity, I went this morning to the Sunday School in one of the Mormon chapels. It happened to go forward in a way which showed me much culture in the various educational and religious branches. But as for the Sacramental division, there were three or four hundred members, from the white-haired old people down to the babies of two or three years old partaking of the bread and water in order to remember that the life and death of the Prince of Life is suitable to the moral needs of people of all ages, uniting the education of the Jewish church and the fact that the Bible proves that the Christian Church is more generous in its blessings than the Church of the Jews is.

At two o'clock I went to the great Tabernacle which is long and round in its form, with its top outside and inside in the form of a boat with its ceiling descending. It is said that it is the largest building in the world without columns to hold its ceiling and that 12,000 [an exaggeration] people are able to sit inside it and hear the speaker as clearly in the distance as one would be able to in many chapels that are 40 feet long. On the one side of the pulpit is one of the largest organs in the world. And also the singing choir numbers about 350, and it is being led by a Welshman from Pencader, Carmarthenshire, South Wales, by the name of E. Stephens. And I can assure you that the singing is good, and that it is intended that they should go to compete in the Eisteddfod in Chicago in 1893. (This choir has gained the second prize of 1,000 dol. in the Eisteddfod just mentioned.) At seven in the evening again, I went to a Mormon meeting. There was nothing different in this meeting in comparison to preaching meetings in general except that the preacher made the circuit of the unbelieving gentiles more extensively than ordinary preachers. The Mormons have 22 places of worship in Salt Lake City where they hold their general services on Sunday and during the week, much like other denominations; but only on Sunday afternoons do they worship in the Tabernacle.

The gentiles also have several chapels in the town, but the Welsh do not have one of these. But our compatriots have started a Sunday School and have formed a Welsh Saint David's Society. Also they have begun to speak of a church and chapel. I hope that this comes to be a blessed happening, because there are thousands of Welsh in the city, and I believe that Salt Lake City is only in its infancy yet. Besides the fact that it has succeeded so strangely as the earthly Seion of the Mormons, it has advantageous connections for it to become a recreational and health-giving resort on account of its geographical variety and its exceflent climate. These are all likely to secure a famous future for it. Also, its central position in regard to the mineral riches of Utah and the Rocky Mountains promises it a bright future. On July 24th, 1847, the city was founded by Brigham Young and 142 of the Mormon followers; but now its population is 50,000. It covers 10,000 acres of land which is nearly all desert; and, as a consequence, its streets are straight ?nd regular and are 132 feet broad with an abundance of crystal clear water from the mountains to supply the city and the land surrounding it. Between the trees which are on the sides of the streets and the running water on every side, I believe that it would be beautiful and charming in the summer. But, of course, there are not many signs of great wealth in it including the buildings on the streets, for one must have time to bring such things about.

Nevertheless, by looking at the grandness of the buildings which belong to the Mormon Church, one is not but able with a considerable and unprejudiced look to admire their success in the face of great difficulties. I look at all this as a suggestion to the Christian world how it has succeeded and what ought to be done in order to get system into the world; and I believe that the time will not be long before the good example of the Mormons will cause the Christian world to look on the followers of Joseph Smith as one of the orthodox denominations when they have been completely cleansed from the disgrace of multiple marriages. Doubtless their excellent temple will be a memorial to ages to come of the godliness and faithfulness of this special church in the first half century of its existence in their new Jerusalem, on the top of the mountains, like the old Temple, having been surrounded .by the mountains of Palestine. This temple has been built of large pieces of marble. Its height is 186 feet and 6 inches, its width is 99 feet; and it has seven towers, the largest one of which is 200 feet high. The inscription on its principal side is the following: "Holiness to the Lord. The House of the Lord, built by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Commenced April 6th, 1853; Completed ." It is said that "Uncle Sam" wishes to take this temple from the Mormons, but this would be more of a disgrace to the Government tiian general despoiling of a sacred place.

Among the thousands of Welsh who are in the neighborhood of Salt Lake City, there are many men of genius; but I did not get to find but one of them this time despite considerable carefulness; that is, Proff. Evan Stephens, the leader of the congregational singing choir of 350 in the Tabernacle. He opened his eyes on the world in Alltfechan, Pencader, Carmarthenshire on June 28th, 1854. He was the tenth child of David and Jane Stephens who made an effort to keep him in the village school until he had learned to read and write and do a little mathematics. His mother was careful to teach him to read Welsh. He came to America when he was 12 years old in the company of his parents who set off from the banks of the Missouri river and crossed the mountains in a wagon with two oxen until they reached Utah, the promised land. That year he gained a chair at Willard, a small town in Box Elder County. While shepherding sheep on the slopes of the hills, he learned to read music, first of all through working on the pieces of the "Welsh Harp" and the "Musician's Compardon" when his musical heart was flowing out to entertain the sheep and the birds on the inaccessible and deserted slopes of that far land. It was true genius, like the life-giving and running water, cutting its way through the rocks of the desert until it comes to the cultivated plains to provide water to, and to revive the creation of God. And according to the old saying, "Practice makes master" when our hero was 17 years of age, he was chosen as the leader of a choir, and three of his own compositions were rendered by several choirs in a concert; that is, those of his own hand; two choruses and a duet. At the same time he continued to work on the farm. When he was 25 years old, he went to Logan to consecrate all his time to music, to instruct others, and to cultivate himself and to work ten hours a day to teach others. In this period he composed three dramas which were rendered by himself and his students in order to entertain the public; and in the meantime he educated 200 children. After two years of hard work in Logan City, he made his way to Salt Lake City and succeeded to such a degree that by the end of the year he had over 900 people receiving musical instruction in various classes. The following year he was hired to be Professor of Music at the University of Deseret, Salt Lake City, where the chief talents of the city received musical instruction at his hands. As the fruit of his labor several fine concerts were held in the large Tabernacle of the Mormons in the presence of 12,000 people. He had taught some of his students to sing pieces of music from those various countries which made up the Mormon Church, and as a conclusion he himself sang "Hen Wlad fy Nhadau" [The old land of my fathers], with a thousand children singing the chorus in Welsh and pronouncing the words as clearly as if they had been Welsh themselves.

In the year 1885, Mr. Stephens, with the assistance of G. W. Chadwick and Geo. E. Whitney, decided to go to Boston to perfect himself. Upon his return he and 500 of his students gave a concert in the Tabernacle before 12,000 people, and all the pieces which were sung had been composed by Mr. Stephens himself. Thus you see that I have not taken up columns of the Drych to show forth a common character, but that of one of the most successful and talented musicians on the American continent. It took him only ten months to go through the courses in Boston, after which time he returned to the field of his labor in Salt Lake City. And when P. S. Gilmore was in the city, Stephens's choir of 500 adult voices and of 1,000 children took part in a concert. Also he incorporated the Choral Society, which numbers 350 voices, to teach sacred and other kinds of music. And it is likely that the choir of the Tabernacle is the best church choir in the world. If I was correct in saying the above, one will see that the Eisteddfods are not making all people great and useful on the whole, because Proff. Stephens has not been hardly at any Eisteddfods at any time, nor has he gained a prize at one, although he was second to Gwilym Gwent. He has not competed for six years. Smith and Brainard have published several of his compositions, all of which number five or six hundred, and which include songs, duetts, trios, quartettes, glees, anthems, choruses, dramas, cantatas, etc. In the face of this it is likely tiiat some musicians will smile in doubt and ask with ridicule, "Who is speaking? And perhaps are there no true roots being evolved in the Seion of the Mormons between the rocky wilderness of far Utah?" To those I would say, come and see without the glasses of prejudice on your eyes.

I am not able to tell of the variety of scenery in Salt Lake City such as Fort Douglass, the graves of Brigham Young and his wife, etc. The city contains some rich and successful Welsh businessmen such as Elias Morris, John S. Lewis, Wm. N. Williams, John W. Jones, D. L. Davies, and H. F. Evans. Also there are Morris and Eynon, cleaners of carpets from Fish Creek, Wis., and they are successful. Mr. Morris begs me to send his wishes to D. Morris and the Jameses and the Rev. Pugh and all his old friends in Fish Creek. Other successful Welshmen include John and Wm. Griffiths, of Arvonia, Kansas, and before that of Cwm Tawe, Glamorganshire, South W r ales, who keep some teams to carry goods in the town. Of course I got their names for the Drych. There are many other Welsh in positions and honorable circumstances both in and outside of the Mormon Church, but I must stop for this time and forsake the city and the summery weather and its various charms in order to set my face to the West again.

FROM UTAH TO THE BANKS OF THE PACIFIC

I departed from Salt Lake City and went past the banks of the great Salt Lake which covers 2,500 square miles. Its average depth is 20 feet, and it is 120 miles in one direction and 45 in the other. The Denver & Rio Grande R. R. and I went through the narrow plain, between the great lake and the carved mountains, in a northerly direction until we reached Ogden, the westerly terminus of the Denver & Rio Grande R. R., and where some seven railroads meet.

Ogden is a beautiful and growing town in a low valley although it is 4,286 feet above sea level. It is surrounded by white capped mountains. Its population is about 15,000 and it is 771 miles from Denver. The great majority of the population of Ogden is also Mormon, and I tried to make all of the readers of Welsh receive the Drych; that is, Griffith Williams, late of Cydweli, Carmarthenshire, South Wales; John Thomas, formerly of Mountain Ash, Glamorganshire, South Wales; H. H. Thomas, a successful artist in the town who has been on a missionary trip lately under the auspices of the Mormon Church; and John Mathews, formerly of Cwm Tawe, Glamorganshire, South Wales.

I went away from there then through the variegated immensity for 300 miles to Palisade Junction [Nevada] where I intended to take the train to go to Eureka [Nevada] where there are some Welsh. But, watch out! it would have been necessary for me to pay 16 dol. for traveling 90 miles! After understanding this, I decided to get the next train in the direction of the West.

The thing that came most strongly to my attention during the nine hours when I was in Palisade was noticing a slave of alcoholic drink who was truly serving his oppressive lord by going to the bar in the hotel ever}- ten minutes during the day to get fuel for his fire. Many times I would hear him saying to the bartender, "The ten minutes are up!" and claiming his swallow. This is terrible slavery, is it not? He spoke reasonably and gentlemanly about things in general, but it was evident that he was nearly out of money; and still, truly (from the standpoint of every appearance), he was giving the value of five cents or more to the burning element in his bowels every ten minutes!

I set out for the West in the middle of a snow storm, and as I went along, the variety of the scenery interested me. But one of the most interesting things to me was the darkness which was revealed in the extensivenss of the sights about me. For example, when I was about five or six miles to the west of Palisade, we were going through a piece of wilderness which was flat as a table. It seemed to my eyes like a very large farm which was being encircled by stony embankments with the top of the wall having been whitewashed. But, O heavens! although we were on a fast train we were between two and three hours crossing the area which was about 60 miles in extent.

There was a deceitful field at the station at Battle Mountain and several Indian cabins around it. And I noticed that when the carriages were coming into this station that the Indians and their wives were sitting on the steps of one of the carriages and that they had been there for hours. How they came to be there I do not know. That was the place where they had been musing until night came — at least until the time when they went to sleep on the wheels.

I awoke in Colfax, 689 miles from Ogden, and from there I went once again through the deserted parts of California and quickly sloped down the Sacramento Valley, and by daybreak came to the verdure of the spring and the various flowers of the summer which cheered me. Strange are the changes of the world, are they not! On the afternoon of Wednesday I was in a storm of winterlike snow in the mountains and two days later I was enjoying the summery scenery at the banks of the Pacific.

Instead of going on the shortest route from Sacramento, which is 90 miles, I went through Stockton, Lathrop, and Tracy; that is, 140 miles through beautiful, fruitful, and flowery land. About the first half of the trip was over excellent plains and about 50 miles through hilly land which was cultivated from the top to the bottom. And if there is not a name for this hilly land, I feel that it ought to be called The Land of the Summer Hills or the Hills of Paradise. The carriages went with me across much of the ocean as if I had decided to go across the whole Pacific Ocean to far China. But there was a stop near the deep waters, after being about 14 months in crossing the broad and varied continent. To the great Governor of the elements be the thanks for the fact that no harm occurred to me in all my tortuous movements in crossing the great continent. And I am asserting that I did not do any harm to anyone on the long trip. When we had placed our feet on the platform of the station, and looked at the railroad lines and myself along with a host of steamboats, I was tempted to go along some thousands of miles across the waters of the Pacific. But instead of going on to Asia, I went to the beautiful town of Oakland and to the shores of the great city of the Pacific, San Francisco. And it is likely that the readers of the Drych will expect me to say something about it.

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