(1)

Sacramento May 9,1854
 
My dearest Mother

By last week's Atlantic mail, I received your excellent letter of March 11th. Though it appears 
to have been promptly mailed yet through some strange cause of delay, it was 7 1/2 weeks 
on the way, --when 4 weeks is the ordinary time. Your letter gave me more pleasure than any 
I have received for a long time from any of my correspondents, - though indeed your letters 
always take the preference over all others. There is nothing so gratifying to me as the 
assurance that though I have been separated from home so far and for so many years, yet it 
has not sufficed to destroy the remembrance of my existence, nor weaken that affection which 
is one of its sweetest delights. Without the belief that there are many hearts that would be 
quickened by a joyous throb at my return home, I should be robbed of one of the sweetest 
anticipations of my present life; and I should never indulge the wish to revisit a land where 
all old faces were estranged, however numerous, powerful and attractive might be the 
associations connected with it.

I regret very [much] to hear by your letter of your having 

(2)

suffered so long and severely with sickness during the winter. It was the first intimation I had had 
of it, though having received nothing from you for a long time, I was inclined to fear your silence 
might be caused by bad health. But I hope from the tone of your own letter, and from what Mr 
Anderson wrote that you are by this time entirely well again. He said he thought as soon as the 
pleasant spring weather set in, that it would prove very beneficial to you. I hope you have had a 
more genial spring than ours this year; for unusual as it is for me to bring complaints against this 
climate, I am bound to confess for once that our weather has been for the past two months, 
unpleasant and backward.

I am glad to hear that father has enjoyed so good health this winter, that his business is so good, 
and that he had Joe's assistance in the more laborious parts of his duties. I would suppose that 
unless he has his eye fixed upon some other employment at present, he could do a very large 
portion of father's Agency Business. By the way, what does Jo. think of doing? Is he going to 
remain in Palmyra or will he go back to Jacksonville? You mentioned that he intended to write me 
soon and would tell me more news. I wonder if I have any idea of what some of his news may consist 
of; I suppose however that I have not. I hope to get his letter soon for he handles a pen with so much 
ease and freedom, that it certainly can be no trouble to him to write a letter of 8 or 10 pages, and 
they are always interesting. I sometimes wish for my own selfish gratification that he would come to

(3)

California, for I feel somewhat alone in the world, having no relations of my own blood within 2000 
miles; but I think again that he can be of great assistance to father, and that you both have a better 
claim upon his society than I have, and I yield without a murmur. Speaking of relations however 
reminds me that I have discovered several branches of the Griswold family in this city, one at least, 
of which claims a host of relations of that name in Weathersfield Conn. - and I am going to write to 
Joe to obtain from father, a statement of our relationship with that family, and to trace it back as far 
and as fully as he can, for I have forgotten nearly everything about our Griswold connections, except 
that "Uncle Kiah" once transported my youthful heart with delight by promising me a "yoke of steers" 
if I would go and live with him three months "over the mountain". Perhaps I can scare up a 49th cousin 
among those in this city.
 
You say that there is a strong probability that I will hear from Fanny soon. I am very glad to hear it, for 
it is such a doleful long time since I received any thing from her that I have almost come to think of her 
as a very distant and dignified sort of personage, that admits of no familiarity; though I am perfectly 
conscious at the same time that she is the same kind, devoted and generous sister that she always 
used to be. I have been waiting with a great deal of patience and more impatience for the last two 
years, for daguerreotypes, 

(4)

but your mentioning that Fanny would go to the Daguerrian Rooms as soon as she could get leisure,
encourages me to hope that my faith will ere long be rewarded. And I want every one that can be
obtained, without too much trouble and expense. The 'three Fannies' I must have at all events, and
then all the rest that I can get. By the way, if this reaches you before they are sent, let me suggest a
place by which they will come perfectly safe. If there are more than two, do not trust them to the mail.
Have them securely done up in one package, and address it thus.

{Daguerreotypes. Per Wells & Fargo's Express}	
E.C. Winchell
South side of 0 Street, between 7th & 8th streets
Sacramento, Cal.

Let some friend take it to St. Louis, and give to the clerk at Wells & Fargo's Express Office, and it will 
be brought safe and sound, to my very parlor door.

I regret now very much that I did not send ours to Sam. Glover, or some other Palmyrene in St Louis, 
who could then have sent it safely to you. In California, the Express Companies do three fourths of the 
inland letter & newspaper carrying. The public have far more confidence in them than in the U.S. mail; 
they are more speedy prompt and certain, and deliver our letters to us at our residences.

I fear our daguerreotype must have been 

(5)

pretty thoroughly ruined. I should think the breaking of the glass must have almost completely obliterated 
the picture. Did the plate also become bent? Was the case fractured? Did any moisture penetrate the 
envelopes? The artist who took it is now here, and has in his office a similar picture taken at the same time 
on another plate. If I knew the extent of the injury sustained by the other I would get this plate and send it to 
you. It would fit the same case. At any rate, if the picture is materially injured, trade off the plate to your artist 
& I will send another. Let Jos. write me about this immediately.

Before I close I must give you a sketch of a trip to the mountains which Laura and myself took about 10 days 
ago. Since her confinement and the loss of her infants, her health had been delicate, and her spirits at times 
depressed; and I was inclined to agree with her physician, that a jaunt into the wilderness and a few days 
among the pine forest in the pure air of the mountains, would be beneficial. Being furnished an easy covered 
buggy, and a strong horse - equipped with a little extra clothing, and some provisions in case of emergency, - 
duly provided with fire arms and munitions of war, we set out in nearly an easterly direction for the foot-hills of 
the Sierra. We found an excellent road through the flowery plain, - crossed the Cosumnes River at noon on a 
wire-bridge, and at 6 stopped for the night at the Buckeye House, in a

(6)

pleasant valley 28 miles from the city. Good accommodations. The next day we were fairly among the foot hills 
and very gradually beginning to ascend. By noon we had reached the lower skirts of the pines, which began to 
dispossess the sturdy oak. Reaching a lovely spot called Ione Valley, we found ourselves at once in a 
community of miners. On either hand near the road the claims were staked off, and groups of men engaged 
with all their paraphernalia of ditches, sluices, hose, long toms, cradles, pans, picks and shovels, in the life 
long, eternal search for gold. From this point, on all our journey we did not cross a clear stream of water, big or 
little. All were thick with the red mud thrown out by the miners, who are to be found wherever water runs. Passing 
through Jackson, and Mokelumne Hill, both large towns in the midst of a wild and almost desolate looking 
country, we reached just at dusk the Bay State Ranch, kept by a Jerseyman. Among the members of his family, 
were two ladies, who though reared in luxury, were evidently delighted with their home in the wilderness. The 
country was now extremely hilly, though the road was excellent, and we made good progress. We preferred to 
stop at noon under the forest trees, and take our lunch and rest our pony. Laura bore the fatigue admirably, 
and evidently improved each day. But I neglect to mention that we were constantly passing over rich mining 
tracts, when rough looking men with

(7)

uncouth habiliments, sun burnt faces and grizzled beards, were constantly at work, - sometimes knee deep 
in mud and water. Their appearance would never had you to suppose they were more than half civilized, but 
there is no class of hard working men in the world equal in points of intellect, education and energy, to the 
miners. Very seldom we met with one that was not more than ordinarily intelligent, -- barring the Spanish, 
Chilians, and Chinese, of whose attainments we could not so easily judge. The third day the only towns we 
passed through were San Andreas, (pronounced San Andrace) and Angel's Camp. Stopping at the last 
place an hour or two, we pushed on through a rugged hilly country abounding with miners, mines and dirty 
brooks, to a locality, once favored for the richness of its gold deposits, - Murphy's Diggings. One of the Wells 
& Fargo's clerks told me that it was once not unusual for them to buy 700 ounces of gold-dust at this place 
by 10 o'clock on Sunday mornings - the traders' principal day in the mines. But at present the yield was much 
smaller, and like all mining towns, under such circumstances, "Murphy's" was beginning to languish with the 
decrease of its life blood. But it was lively nevertheless, - and the group of men going to work in the morning, 
the sluices & ditches running through the town in every direction and the extensive preparations made for 
heavy operations, showed that the gold was not entirely exhausted. 

(8)

The landlord had an interesting family, including two young ladies, and our accommodations were excellent. 
We had now reached the altitude of 2000 feet, above the Bay of San Francisco, - but we were soon to enter 
upon the task of climbing the side of the Sierra, in right good earnest. We were to leave the stage road here, 
- which we had kept from Sacramento, - and pursue a track cut through the ravines and gorges by individual 
enterprise. The "Union Water Company" at an expense of $200,000 had cut a ditch from a point a thousand 
feet higher up, and brought the waters of a mountain stream 12 miles to the village, (Murphy's) and then by 
means of smaller ditches distributed it all over the surrounding diggings, - suplying [sic] thousands of miners 
with water to wash their gold, -- and then conducted it on to other camps and villages for 30 or 40 miles. They 
built a saw-mill at the head to furnish their lumber for fluming, or making aqueducts to convey their water across 
the glens and valleys; and on the mill road, at the mouth of a gorge, between two hills, high, rocky and abrupt, 
we found ourselves, soon after breakfast the next morning, commencing the slow ascent. Passing an Indian 
Village, and advancing farther on, we found the gorge a wild and rugged glen, down which a mountain stream 
whose sparkling purity showed that no miners troubled its upper waters, dashed and roared most furiously. 
The road which had been

(9)

cut along the steep side of the ravine, with immense labor, (considering that it was an individual enterprise) 
was so narrow as barely to afford a safe passage for a single vehicle. Had we met a wagon, we should have 
been in an awkward position, from which we could have escaped only by unharnessing, turning around & going 
back to the bottom, or by finding some spot where we could roll our carriage over the edge, against some log 
or tree, that would have kept it from dashing in hot haste down to the waters of the angry little creek, until the 
wagon had passed, and then dragging it up to the road again. But fortunately the only team we met was on a 
level spot where we passed easily, and after a long and tedious pull our pony brought us to the top. We had 
now reached the upper limit of the oaks which had been growing smaller and more insignificant from the time 
we struck the foothills, and have yielded their title of "Monarch" to the loft and graceful pines that seemed almost 
to sweep the heavens with their tops. A short span of level road brought us to the foot of another steep ascent, 
which in time was followed by another, so that we were most of the time continually climbing a steep acclivity. 
Now and then we passed the log hut of some wood chopper, but the forest was mostly sleeping in its primeval 
solitude and silence. But for the enterprise of the "Union Water Company" (whose great aqueduct we crossed 
over and over, and again we found stretching across a deep valley far above our heads,)

(10)

these forests would probably have remained undisturbed until now. At length we were gladdened by the sight 
of the saw mill, and found that we had progressed 10 miles in 4 1/2 hours, -- it being now one o'clock. Here 
we were at the end of the road, -- or at least it was not worked any further. One of the men however, pointed 
out the track and we plodded on, though our pony was tired and we had to go slow. The forest increased in 
grandeur and beauty at every step, and though our progress was toilsome, we could but be interested. 
Upward and onwards, slowly and wearily six miles further until reaching at length the brow of a long ascent at 
3 o'c, we looked down into a wild valley beyond with deep interest. Surrounded by Alpine hills, and wholly 
occupied by a magnificent forest of pines, cedars, balsams, firs, yew, arbor vitae & other evergreens it was 
as romantic and solitary a spot as a hermit or a grizzly could desire for his abode. Pausing a moment, far 
down in its depths rang the measured stroke of an axe, and gladdened by its familiar sound we pushed 
onwards. A few steps and we fell upon a glittering white mass among the top of a fallen tree, -- which upon 
handling and tasting, and moulding it into a ball, I found to be genuine, veritable snow. When we left 
Sacramento the sun had danced the mercury up to 90 [degrees] and flowers had been covering the valley for weeks. 
This was an awful change, -- from May to December in 3 days. But the sky was clear and the air delightful.

We reached the bottom and found a small chaos 

(11)

of prostrate logs, dismantled boughs, and unsightly stumps produced by the attempt to clear away about 
10 acres of the forest. At the edge was a large and comfortable, though somewhat rude house made of 
pine clapboards. We stopped at the door, alighted, gave our horse to the landlord walked into the house, 
had a snug little room assigned us by the landlady and were at our journey's end!

"Where were you", you ask.
 
On the South fork of the San Antonio river, in Lat. 38 [degrees] N. Long. 120 [degrees] 10' west, 5000 feet above the Bay of 
San Francisco 105 miles from Sacramento.

The only name the spot has at present is Mammoth Tree Valley, and its chief attraction it gigantic trees. 
You have read of one of them which was cut down & the bark stripped off for 50 feet, and sent to New York 
for exhibition. I have no hope of giving you any correct idea of their magnitude but I will give their dimensions.
 After resting an hour the landlord took us out & showed us the trees. The one that was cut, is near the door, 
in the midst of the chaos of fallen trees, like a leviathan among herrings. We mounted the stump, which is 
leveled off, and promenaded around on it for some time. It
measured before the bark was taken off, 29 1/2 feet across the stump. The bark was 15 inches thick on
each side. I walked around on the outer edge of the stump and took 33 ordinary steps in going around.
The tree was bored down by 5 men with pump-log augers. It took them 23 days to fell it. The height of
it was about 375 feet. The prostrate body if leveled off would make a road for a six horse team. We
climbed on it, and found ourselves almost at a dizzy height from the ground.

(12)

Then with a young lad at the house we were taken into the tangled depths of the forest to see the
others. There are almost 80 large ones, and 35 smaller ones of this species, on a tract of about 50 acres,
and these are alone on the earth. Nothing of the kind has ever been known to botanists. And a
presumptuous Londoner who examined it, has given the species the lofty title of "Wellingtonia
Gigantia". The one that was cut, was estimated from the number of its yearly rings, to be 3000 years
old, and from my own observation I do not doubt it. But I can only give you the briefest inventory of the others.

The "Pioneer's Cabin" is 300 feet high and 90 feet in circumference.

The "Three Sisters" measure together 92 feet in circumference; 300 feet high; 200 feet to the first limb.

"Uncle Tom's Cabin", 150 feet high; top broken off; the cabin is large enough to accommodate 25
persons.

The "Hermit" 320 feet high - 75 feet in cir.

"Hercules" is 350 feet high -107 "" "" "" The largest tree standing. Would make 175,000 feet of inch
lumber.

"Husband & wife" 250 feet high - 60 feet in cir.

The "Royal Family" - a group of 26. The largest is dead & fallen. Circumference 110 feet. Supposed
height when standing 450 feet. It looks as though it might have fallen hundreds of years ago. It is
hollow for 250 feet & contained water enough to paddle a canoe with all ease. At some seasons it
contains a living spring.

(13)

Luxuriant wild gooseberry bushes grow on top of the log. It is the skeleton, the wreck of a monster, 
whose immense proportions, even now, astound the beholder. Ages upon ages have passed away since 
it first sprang forth, and on viewing it the mind almost unconsciously reaches far back into the past to grasp 
some incident coeval with its birth. How little does man with all his boasted wisdom know of the march of the 
ages that have gone before. The history of one of those trees would comprise the greater portion of what we 
know of the history of the earth. Then, man's littleness. How insignificant a thing he is by the side of one of 
these monsters. His proudest works, his grandest edifices, how puerile, how like children's paste board 
houses, compared with the majestic columns and evergreen dome of this most magnificent of forests. I 
couldn't help thinking of Bryant's reflections, constantly.
 
"The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned
To hew the shaft and lay the architrave
And spread the roof above them, ere he framed
The lofty vault, to gather, and roll back 
The sound of anthems, - in the darkling wood 
Amidst the cool and silence he knelt down 
And offered to the Mightiest, solemn thanks
And supplications	
Father! Thy hand
Hath reared these venerable columns; thou 
Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down 
Upon the naked earth, and forthwith rose 

(14)

"All these fair ranks of trees. Thy in thy sun 
Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze 
And shot towards Heaven. The century[?] living crow 
Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died 
Among their branches; till at last they stood 
As now they stand, massy, and tall and dark -
Fit shrine, for humble worshipper to hold
Communion with his Maker.	
This mighty fir
By whose immovable stem I stand, and seem 
Almost annihilated, - not a prince 
In all the proud old world beyond the deep, 
Ere wore his crown, as loftily as he 
Wears the green coronal of leaves with which 
Thy hand hath graced him."

But I fear you will be tired with any further description. As we came back to the house we passed many 
other trees of similar size and higher. A singular feature is the mound of earth piled around the foot of 
each, - 8 or 10 feet higher than the level of the forest, and composed as I conjecture of the mass of 
leaves and cones that have fallen each year through so many ages. The seed of these trees is very 
similar to parsnip seed, - equally small and light.

Reaching the house an excellent supper awaited us. Our landlord was very sociable and told us his plans. 
He had taken up 320 acres of land

(15)

and was clearing off and breaking up a portion. A tract of 50 Acres, including all the large trees was to be 
trimmed out, fenced and stocked with deer. A round house 30 feet in diameter was to be built upon the 
stump of the fallen tree; and upon the prostrate body leveled off he intended to build a bowling alley. 
Preparations were to be made to accommodate a large number of visitors this summer for the spot is 
beginning to attract many from all quarters. 

"The hour for retiring" came soon, for we were fatigued with our mountain scramble, and we were to 
get off for home as early as practical the next day. At dark it had clouded over and was raining some, 
but as they said it was not unusual to have showers at night, we did not sleep the less soundly. 

On waking in the morning the rain had ceased, but a novel light gleamed through the light
window curtains & I sprang to draw it aside. Pres-to! what a scene. The bright green verdure of the
trees, half smothered with snow, the ground 3 inches out of sight, and the air filled with clouds of great
white flakes that came wheeling down with tremendous vigor unceasingly. I assure you, though it did
not promise very fair for our speedy exit from the valley, yet it was a sight that brought spontaneously a
thousand pleasant recollections and feelings. With a very little aid from the imagination, I was at "home
again" and "a boy again". The last snow I had seen to fall was while we were encamped on the bank of a
dirty

(16)

little creek, in the edge of Chariton Co. - when we were 3 or 4 days out from Paris in April 1850, 
- more than 4 years before. But I must hasten.

After breakfast Laura and myself, taking a hoe, made our way into the thickets, and raking off the snow, 
dug up about 150 wild strawberry roots, (of which there are, literally, millions) and a large supply of wild 
gooseberries, currents and raspberries, which we packed safely into a small tea chest to bring home. 
At 9 o'clock the sun burst through the clouds and tree tops, & the aspect of things began to change. The 
broad white flakes stopped coming down, and those that were down, took to water and ingloriously ran, 
as though affrighted at the great King of Day. By good fortune our landlord had to send a two horse 
wagon down to Murphy's, and we waited for it to pilot the way and break the track. At one o'clock, we left 
with regret, for the mountain scenery was so enchanting to us dwellers in the dusty noisy city, that we would 
have spent a week very pleasantly. We found "coming down" vastly easier than "going up" and reached 
Murphy's at 5 o'clock - in 4 hours instead of 6 1/2. The next day we reached Mokelumne Hill, a busy mining 
town. Good accommodations. The next we reached a little Paradise, Ione Valley, and staid all night with a 
farmer and his wife, old friend's of Laura's people. The 8th day at 6 o'c P.M. we reached home safe and 
sound; Laura's health & spirits greatly improved. 

(17)

Well, now I think I had better finish in as decent haste as possible. A word or two of items & I am done.

By the papers I sent, you have probably seen that I am "City Assessor" for the present year. I got into the 
office almost accidentally, and without much wish or intention to do so, -- for it looks as though I had given 
up my profession which is not the case. It will take about 4 months to do my work, and the salary is $2000 
cash, with office rent free for the year. As soon as I have done I shall go into practice and stick to it. Laura 
is anxious to have something to do, and her health not permitting her to teach, she is bent on taking some 
school children to board. Her mother is with us, and preparations are now in progress. I hope with health & 
the blessing of God, to be able to do enough this year, to cancel my debts, and place myself on independent 
ground with a fair footing. My health is excellent, and although ever since I came to California, my progress 
has been one continual struggle against many obstacles, I do not feel like murmuring or yielding in despair. 
Hope on, hope ever.

Mother, some day when Joe has nothing to do, will you ask him to hunt up the old papers containing my first 
and last attempt at writing romances, and envelope them securely in one package, and send them to me. 
I don't know what I may do with them, but I don't think they will set our wooden cities on fire.

And tell him to write me a good long letter about himself etc etc. 

(18)

May 15. Items. The steamer leaves to day. The Legislature is to adjourn this afternoon but it is expected 
they will pass a final bill fixing forever the location of the capital at Sacramento. The past session has done 
the state but little honor, or good. The Sabbath schools of the Presbyterian and Methodist churches had a 
grand exhibition a few nights since. It was a magnificent affair. Schools of all kinds are springing up very 
rapidly in the city, with the very best of teachers. We have had two free schools, all this year, and other are 
soon to be put in operation. Next winter it is expected a State University will be established by the 
Legislature, and located in the beautiful valley of San Jose, -- at the southern end of the bay of San Francisco.

The Baptists are building a new church; the Methodist Church South gives a supper on Tuesday night next, in 
their own behalf. A railroad is about being commenced from here to Mormon Island, a mining town, 20 miles 
up the American. The cars will be running by fall.

We are all in excellent health now; Laura and her mother send you much love. Laura will write
you, as soon as she finds leisure time. Give my love to all, and write me as often as your strength will allow.

Very affectionately, Your son
Elisha