Handbook to the new Gold-fields

Chapter Four

Description of Coasts, Harbours, etcetera

The Pacific coast extends from Panama westward and northward, without any remarkable irregularity in its outline, to the tropic of Cancer, almost immediately under which is the entrance of the great Gulf of California, separating the Peninsula of California from the main continent on the east. From the southern extremity of this peninsula the coast runs generally north-westward to Mount Saint Elias, a lofty volcanic peak, rising from the shore of the ocean under the 60th parallel, beyond which the continent stretches far westward, between the Pacific on the south, and the Arctic Sea on the north, to its termination at Cape Prince of Wales, in Behring’s Straits, the passage separating America from Asia. The part of the coast south of the 49th degree of latitude (the American boundary) presents few indentations, and the islands in its vicinity are neither numerous nor large. North of the 49th degree, on the contrary, the mainland is everywhere penetrated by inlets and bays; and near it are thousands of islands, many of them extensive, lying singly or in groups, separated from each other and from the continent by narrow channels.

From the mouth of the Columbia forty-five miles of unbroken coast reaches Whidbey’s Bay, called by the Americans Bulfinches Harbour, and not unfrequently Gray’s Bay, which, with an entrance of scarce two miles and a-half, spreads seven miles long and nine broad, forming two deep bays like the Columbia. Here there is secure anchorage behind Point Hanson to the south and Point Brown to the north, but the capacity of the bay is lessened to one-third of its size by the sand banks which encroach on it in every direction. Like the Columbia, its mouth is obstructed by a bar which has not more than four fathoms water, and as it stretches some three miles to seaward, with breakers on each side, extending the whole way to the shore, the difficulty of entrance is increased. It lies nearly east and west, and receives from the east the waters of the river Chikelis, having its rise at the base of the mountains, which, stretching from Mount Olympus in the north, divide the coast from Puget’s Sound. From Whidbey’s Bay to Cape Flattery, about eighty miles, but two streams, and those unimportant, break the iron wall of the coast, which rising gradually into lofty mountains is crowned in hoary grandeur by the snow-clad peaks of Mount Olympus. Cape Flattery, called also Cape Classet, is a conspicuous promontory in latitude 48 degrees 27 minutes; beyond it, distant one mile, lies Tatouches Island, a large flat rock, with perpendicular sides, producing a few trees, surrounded by rocky islets: it is one mile in length, joined to the shore by a reef of rocks, and a mile further, leaving a clear passage between them, is a reef named Ducan’s Rock. Here commences, in latitude 48 degrees 30 minutes, that mighty arm of the sea, which has been justly named from its first discoverer, the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and which Captain Cook passed without perceiving. The entrance of this strait is about ten miles in width, and varies from that to twenty with the indentations of its shores, of which the northern, stretching to the north-west and south-east across the entrance, gives an appearance of continuity to its line on the Pacific. Running in a south-easterly direction for upwards of one hundred miles, its further progress is suddenly stopped by a range of snow-clad mountain, at the base of which, spreading abroad its mighty arms to the north and south, it gives to the continent the appearance of a vast archipelago.

Of the Straits of Fuca and surrounding shores, the latest and fullest information we possess is that contained in the letter of the Times’ special correspondent, published on 27th August. He says:—

“We have now rounded Cape Flattery, and are in the Straits of Fuca, running up between two shores of great beauty. On the left is the long-looked-for Island of Vancouver, an irregular aggregation of hills, shewing a sharp angular outline as they become visible in the early dawn, covered with the eternal pines, saving only occasional sunny patches of open greensward, very pretty and picturesque, but the hills not lofty enough to be very striking. The entire island, property speaking, is a forest. On the right we have a long massive chain of lofty mountains covered with snow, called the Olympian range—very grand, quite Alpine in aspect. This is the peninsula, composed of a series of mountains running for many miles in one unbroken line, which divides the Straits of Fuca from Puget Sound. It belongs to America, in the territory of Washington, is uninhabited, and, like its opposite neighbour, has a covering of pines far up towards the summit. The tops of these mountains are seldom free from snow. The height is unknown, perhaps 15,000 feet. We ran up through this scenery early in the morning, biting cold, for about forty miles to Esquimault Harbour—the harbour—which confers upon Vancouver’s Island its pre-eminence.

“From the information of old miners, who pointed out some of the localities on the northern coast of California, and indicated the position of places in Oregon in which they had dug for gold, I had a strong corroboration of an opinion which I stated in one of my late letters—that the Fraser River diggings were a continuation of the great goldfield of California. The same miners had a theory that these northern mines would be richer than any yet discovered, because the more northern portions of California are richer than the central and southern portions.

“The harbour of Esquimault is a circular bay, or rather a basin, hollowed by nature out of the solids rock. We slid in through the narrow entrance between two low, rocky promontories and found ourselves suddenly transported from the open sea and its heavy roll and swell into a Highland lake, placid as the face of a mirror, in the recesses of a pine forest. The transition was startling. From the peculiar shape of the bay and the deep indentations its various coves make into the shore, one sees but a small portion of the harbour at a glance from the point we brought up at. We therefore thought it ridiculously small after our expectations had been so highly wrought in San Francisco.

“The whole scenery is of the Highland character. The rocky shores, the pine trees running down to the edge of the lake, their dark foliage trembling over the glittering surface which reflected them, the surrounding hills, and the death-like silence. I was both delighted and disappointed—delighted with the richness of the scenery, but disappointed at the smallness of the harbour. Can this little loch, imprisoned within natural ramparts of rocks, buried in the solitude of a forest, be the place which I hoped would become so famous, the great destiny of which has been prognosticated by statesmen and publicists, and the possession of which is bitterly envied us by neighbouring nations; this the place where England is to centre a naval force hitherto unknown in the Pacific, whence her fleets are to issue for the protection of her increasing interests in the Western world; this the seaport of the Singapore of the Pacific; the modern Tyre into which the riches of the East are to flow and be distributed to the Western nations; the terminus of railway communication which is to connect the Atlantic with the Pacific?

“Victoria is distant from Esquimault, by land, about three miles round by sea, double the distance. The intervening ground is an irregular promontory, having the waters of the Straits of Fuca on the south, the Bay of Victoria on the east, and the Victoria arm encircling: it on the north. The promontory contains three farms, reclaimed from the forest of pines, oaks, alders, willows, and evergreens. The soil is good, and produces fair crops of the ordinary cereals, oats, barley, and wheat, and good grass, turnips, and potatoes.

“I came the first time to Victoria round by water. The rowing of our boat was much impeded by kelp. The shore is irregular; somewhat bold and rocky—two more facts which confirmed the resemblance of the scenery to that of the western coast of Scotland.

“The bay of Victoria runs in a zigzag shape—two long sharp promontories on the southward hiding the town from view until we get quite close up to it. A long low sand-spit juts out into it, which makes the entrance hazardous for large vessels at some little distance below the town, and higher up the anchorage is shallow. Twice at low tides I saw two or three ugly islands revealed, where ships would have to anchor. In short, Victoria is not a good harbour for a fleet. For small vessels and traders on the coast, it will answer well enough.

“Victoria stands nobly on a fine eminence, a beautiful plateau, on the rocky shore of the bay of the same name. Generations yet to come will pay grateful tribute to the sagacity and good taste of the man who selected it. There is no finer site for a city in the world. The plateau drains itself on every side by the natural depressions which intersect it, and there is space enough to build a Paris on. The views are also good. Across the straits you have the Olympian range washed by the sea; towards the interior, picturesque views of wooded hills; opposite, the fine woodland scenery of the country intervening between it and Esquimault, the Victoria arm, glimpses of which, as seen through the foliage, look like a series of inland lakes; while in front, just at one’s feet, is the bay itself and its tributaries, or arms rather—James’s Bay, etcetera, always beautiful; and behind, towards the south-east end of the island, is a view of great beauty and grandeur—a cluster of small islands, San Juan and others, water in different channels, straits and creeks, and two enormous mountains in the far distance, covered from base to summit with perpetual snow. These are Mounts Baker and Rainier, in Washington territory. Such are a few—and I am quite serious when I say only a few—of the beauties which surround Victoria.

“As to the prospects of Vancouver’s Island as a colony, I would say that if it shall turn out that there is an extensive and rich gold-field on the mainland in British territory, as there is every reason to believe, the island will become a profitable field for all trades, industries, and labour. The population will soon increase from Canada, whence an immigration of many thousands is already spoken of, from Australia, South America, the Atlantic States,—and, no doubt, from Europe also. If this happens, the tradesman and the labourer will find employment, and the farmer will find a ready market, at good prices, for his produce.

“Should the gold suddenly disappear, the island will have benefited by the impulse just given to immigration, for, no doubt, many who came to mine will remain to cultivate the soil and to engage in other pursuits. If this be the termination of the present fever, then to the farmer who is satisfied with a competency—full garners and good larder, who loves retirement, is not ambitious of wealth, is fond of a mild, agreeable, and healthy climate, and a most lovely country to live in—the island offers every attraction. Its resources are, plenty of timber, towards the northern portion producing spars of unequalled quality, which are becoming of great value in England, and will soon be demanded in France, now that the forests of Norway and of Maine are becoming exhausted; limestone in abundance, which burns into good lime for building and for agricultural purposes; coal in plenty, now worked at Nanaimo, on the northern side of the island, by the Hudson’s Bay Company—the quality is quite good, judging from the specimens I saw burning—it answers well for steam purposes, and would have found a ready sale in San Francisco were it not subject to a heavy duty (of 30 per cent, I think) under the American tariff; iron, copper, gold, and potter’s clay. I have no doubt that a gold-field will be discovered on the island as it gets opened up to enterprising explorers. A friend of mine brought down some sand from the sea-beach near Victoria, and assayed it the other day. It produced gold in minute quantity, and I have heard of gold washings on the island. The copper is undeveloped. The potter’s clay has been tested in England, and found to be very good.

“The character of the soil is favourable to agriculture. It is composed of a black vegetable mould of a foot to two feet in depth, overlaying a hard yellow clay. The surface earth is very fine, pulverised, and sandy, quite black, and, no doubt, of good quality; when sharpened with sheep-feeding it produces heavy crops. The fallen trees, which are very numerous, shew that the substratum of clay is too hard to produce anything. The roots of the pine never penetrate it. In some places the spontaneous vegetation testifies to the richness of the soil—such as wild pease or vetches, and wild clover, which I—have seen reach up to my horse’s belly—and a most luxuriant growth of underwood, brambles, fern, etcetera.

“I visited seven farms within short distances of Victoria. The crops were oats, barley, wheat, pease, potatoes, turnips, garden herbs and vegetables, fruits, and flowers; no clover, the natural grass supplying sufficient food for the cattle and sheep. The crops were all healthy, but not heavy. The wheat was not thick on the ground, nor had it a large head. It was such a crop as would be an average only in a rich, well-cultivated district of England or Scotland; far lighter than you would see in the rich counties of England and in the Carse of Gowrie. I was informed that the ground was very badly prepared by Indian labour—merely scratched over the surface. I believe that with efficient labour and skilful treatment, the crops could be nearly doubled. The oats and barley were very good crops, and the potatoes looked quite healthy, and I doubt not will turn out the best crop of all. The peas were decidedly an abundant crop. Vegetables thrive well, and all the ordinary fruits, apples, currants, etcetera, are excessively abundant, some of the currant-bushes breaking down with the weight of their fruit. Flowers of the ordinary sorts do well, but delicate plants don’t thrive, owing to the coldness of the nights.

“Sheep thrive admirably. I saw some very fine pure Southdowns. The rams were selling at 100 dollars each (20 pounds) to California sheep farmers. Other breeds—hybrids of Southdowns, merinos, and other stock—were also in good condition, and fair in size. Black cattle do well also. The breed is a mixture of English and American, which makes very good beef. The horses are little Indian breeds, and some crosses with American stock, all very clean limbed, sound, active, hardy, and full of endurance and high spirit, until they get into livery-stables.

“During my stay, the climate was charming; the weather perfection—warm during the day, but free of glare, and not oppressive; cool in the evenings, with generally a gentle sea breeze. The long days—the protracted daylight eking out the day to nine o’clock at night—the lingering sunset, and the ample ‘gloaming,’ all so different from what I had been accustomed to in more southern latitudes, again reminded me of Scotland in the summer season.

“So far as I wandered—about ten miles round Victoria—the landscape is totted with extensive croppings of rock, which interfere with the labours of the husbandman. Few corn-fields are without a lot of boulders, or a ridge or two of rocks rising up above the surface of the ground. Consequently the cultivated fields are small, and were sneered at by my Californian neighbours, who are accustomed to vast open prairies under crop. I have seen one field of 1000 acres all under wheat in California. But then no other country is so favoured as this is for all the interests of agriculture.

“The scenery of the inland country around Victoria is a mixture of English and Scotch. Where the pine (they are all ‘Douglass’ pines) prevails, you have the good soil broken into patches by the croppings of rock, producing ferns, rye-grass, and some thistles, but very few. This is the Scottish side of the picture. Then you come to the oak region; and here you have clumps, open glades, rows, single trees of umbrageous form, presenting an exact copy of English park scenery. There is no running water, unfortunately, but the meadows and little prairies that lie ensconced within the woods, shew no signs of suffering from lack of water. The nights bring heavy dews, and there are occasional rains, which keep them fresh and green. I am told that in September rains fall which renew the face of nature so suddenly, that it assumes the garb of spring, the flowers even coming out. The winter is a little cold, but never severe. I have heard it complained of as being rather wet and muggy. Frost and snow fall, but do not endure long.

“The climate is usually represented as resembling that of England. In some respects the parallel may hold good; but there is no question that Vancouver has more steady fine weather, is far less changeable, and is on the whole milder. Two marked differences I remarked—the heat was never sweltering, as is sometimes the case in England, and the wind never stings, as it too often does in the mother country. The climate is unquestionably superior in Vancouver.”

To resume our description of the coast, the southern shore of the Strait of Juan de Fuca is described by Vancouver as being composed of sandy cliffs of moderate height, falling perpendicularly into the sea, from the top of which the land takes a further gentle ascent, where it is entirely covered with trees, chiefly of the pine tribe, until the forest reaches a range of high craggy mountains which seem to rise from, the woodland in a very abrupt manner, with a few scattered trees on their sterile sides, and their tops covered with snow. On the north the shore is not so high, the ascent more gradual from thence to the tops of the mountains, which are less covered with snow than those to the south. They have from the strait the appearance of a compact range. Proceeding up the strait about seventy miles, a long low sandy point attracted Vancouver’s attention; from its resemblance to Dungeness, on the coast of Kent, he named it New Dungeness, and found within it good anchorage in from ten to three fathoms; beyond this the coast forms a deep bay about nine miles across; and three miles from its eastern point lies Protection Island, so named from the position it occupies at the entrance of Port Discovery. Vancouver landed on it on the 1st of May 1792, and thus describes its appearance:– “On landing on the west end, and ascending its eminence, which was a nearly perpendicular cliff, our attention was immediately called to a landscape almost as enchantingly beautiful as the most elegantly finished pleasure-grounds in Europe. The summit of this island presented nearly a horizontal surface, interspersed with some inequalities of ground, which produced a beautiful variety on an extensive lawn covered with luxuriant grass and diversified with abundance of flowers. To the north-westward was a coppice of pine trees, and shrubs of various sorts, that seemed as if it had been planted for the purpose of protecting from the north-west winds this delightful meadow, over which were promiscuously scattered a few clumps of trees that would have puzzled the most ingenious designer of pleasure-grounds to have arranged more agreeably. While we stopped to contemplate these several beauties of nature in a prospect no less pleasing than unexpected, we gathered some gooseberries and roses in a state of considerable forwardness.”

From this island, lying at the entrance of Port Discovery, commences the maritime importance of the territory, with, says Vancouver, as fine a harbour as any in the world, though subsequently he awards the palm to its neighbour Port Hudson. Its shores and scenery have been thus described by Vancouver:—

“The delightful serenity of the weather greatly aided the beautiful scenery that was now presented; the surface of the sea was perfectly smooth, and the country before us presented all that bounteous nature could be expected to draw into one point of view. As we had no reason to imagine that this country had ever been indebted for any of its decorations to the hand of man, I could not possibly believe that any uncultivated country had ever been discovered exhibiting so rich a picture. The land which interrupted the horizon below the north-west and north quarters seemed to be much broken, from whence its eastern extent round to south-east was bounded by a ridge of snowy mountains, appearing to lie nearly in a north and south direction, on which Mount Baker rose conspicuously, remarkable for its height and the snowy mountains that stretch from its base to the north and south. Between us and this snowy range, the land, which on the sea-shore terminated like that we had lately passed in low perpendicular cliffs, or on beaches of sand or stone, rose here in a very gentle ascent, and was well covered with a variety of stately forest trees; these, however, did not conceal the whole face of the country in one uninterrupted wilderness, but pleasantly clothed its eminences and chequered the valleys, presenting in many directions extensive spaces that wore the appearance of having been cleared by art, like the beautiful island we had visited the day before. A picture so pleasing could not fail to call to our remembrance certain delightful and beloved situations in Old England.” Both the approaches to this port, round the extremities of Protection Island, are perfectly free from obstruction, and about a league in breadth.

Separated from Port Discovery only by a narrow slip of land from a mile and a-half to two miles broad, which trending to the east protects it from the north and west, is Port Hudson, having its entrance at the extremity of the point on the east side, but little more than one mile broad; from which the harbour extends, in a semicircular form, for about four miles westward, and then trending for about six more, affords excellent shelter and anchorage for vessels in from ten to twenty fathoms, with an even bottom of mud.

In latitude 48 degrees 16 minutes the waters of the strait are divided by a high white sandy cliff, with verdant lawns on each side; this was named by Vancouver Point Partridge. It forms the western extremity of an island, long, low, verdant, and well-wooded, lying close to the coast, and having its south end at the mouth of a river rising in those mountains which here form a barrier to the further progress of the sea. The snow-covered peak of the most lofty of these is visible soon after entering the strait. Vancouver named it Mount Baker, from the officer of his ship by whom it was first seen. This mountain, with Mount Olympus, and another further to the south, named by the same navigator Mount Rainier, form nearly an equilateral triangle, and tower over the rest, the giant wardens of the land. From Point Partridge he southern branch extends about fifteen miles below the island before mentioned; this Vancouver named Admiralty Inlet. Here the tides begin to be sufficiently rapid to afford obstruction to navigation; and hence it parts in two arms, one named Hood’s Canal, taking a south-west course, and the other continuing a south course for forty miles, and then also bending to the west, terminates in a broad sound studded with islands, called by him Puget’s Sound.