Gold: the marvellous history of General John Augustus Sutter

by Blaise Cendrars

  'Today, California is part of the American Union and the country is in a state of complete transformation. Loyal troops have arrived from Washington, but they have much to do yet before order is restored. Every day, newcomers arrive and there are still mountains of gold. As I have already said, most of the earlier arrivals have disappeared, nobody knows how. The Beast of the Apocalypse is roaming through the countryside now and everyone is very agitated. The Mormons have already departed with their carts laden with gold, and I had no heart to follow them. It is said they have built a city on the shores of Salt Lake, where they live now in debauchery and drunkenness, for they have planted vines, which they learned to do in my vineyards, where many of them worked before the gold was found. In those days, they were good men and responsible workers, but now it seems they too are damned. Am I really to blame for all this? There are moments when, pondering on my misery, I believe that I am. Bands of strolling players are also wandering about the countryside, and many women come here, Italians, Chileans and Frenchwomen, some of them looking for husbands, but they do not all stay. The first men to stake claims to the land are all in litigation with lawyers in New York, who are issuing title-deeds to the new arrivals. Everybody is bringing lawsuits. For myself, I do not know what to do, I don't want to be just like the rest, but what should I do? This is why I am writing to you.

  'This is the position:

  'I am ruined.

  'According to American law, one half of the gold extracted is mine by clear right, and we are talking about hundreds and hundreds of millions of dollars' worth. Moreover, I have suffered an incalculable loss through the discovery of gold on my lands; my property has been overrun, devastated and despoiled, I am therefore entitled to compensation. In the third place, I am the sole proprietor of the terrain on which San Francisco has been built (apart from a narrow strip of land along the ocean-front which belongs to the Franciscan Mission) and of other sites on which towns and villages have been built. I possess all the title-deeds to these lands, which were given to me in the time of the Mexicans by Governors Alvarado and Micheltorena by way of reward for my services and in payment of my expenses at the time of the wars with the Indians on my northern frontier. Fourthly, hordes of new settlers have taken possession of my plantations and exhibit title-deeds which are flagrantly new, whereas I was the one to bring this entire region under cultivation, and I paid the Russians dearly for their small farms when they left. And lastly, the bridges, the canals, the ponds, the locks, the tracks, the roads, the harbour, the landing stages and the mills that I had constructed at my own expense, today serve the public welfare, so the State legislature must pay me for them. There remains also the question of all the gold that will be mined during the next quarter of a century, and over which I have some rights.

  'What should I do?

  'It makes me ill to think of the sum that all this must represent.

  'The trouble is, if I begin, it will be not one but a thousand lawsuits I must bring all at once; I must attack tens of thousands of individuals, hundreds of communities, the legislature of the State of California and the government in Washington. If I begin, it will be not one, but ten, a hundred fortunes that I will have to spend, although it is true that what I am claiming would make it all worth while (even before the discovery of gold, I was on my way to becoming the richest man in the world). If I begin, it will not be one new country I shall have to conquer, as it was when I landed for the first time, all alone, on the sands of the Pacific, but the entire world. They would all be against me, and I should have to fight for years and years, and I am beginning to feel my age, I am already hard of hearing, I fear my strength might let me down, and it is for this reason that I have sent Emile, my eldest son, to the Faculty of Law, for it is on him that all this immense business of the gold will devolve and, being on the inside, so to speak, he will know better how to avoid the traps and pitfalls of the law, and those men of law whom his simpleton of a father greatly fears. Yes, I confess it.

  'As a matter of honour, I cannot lose everything, let it all go, just like that, without a word. It would be a crying shame, an injustice!

  'On the other hand, I often ask myself whether I have the right to intervene, or whether there are not too many human interests at stake which are beyond my understanding, and if God who reigns in Heaven has not some particular design for all these people whom He sends into this country? And I myself feel that I am lost in His hand.

  'What should I do?

  'Gold brings misfortune. If I touch it, if I pursue it, if I claim what is mine by indisputable right, shall I not be damned in my turn, like so many others whose example I have before my very eyes and of whom I have already spoken to you?

  'Tell me, what should I do? I am ready for anything. To disappear. Abdicate. I could, on the other hand, set to work again and give useful support to Victor and Arthur, who are making very good progress. I could squeeze the maximum produce out of my farms, smallholdings and plantations, open up new areas of cultivation, extend the work of my Indians and Kanakas, throw myself into new speculations - in a word, make the necessary money for the lawsuits and press on till my strength is exhausted. But is all this really necessary? I am homesick. I dream of our beautiful little canton of Basle and would like to return there. God, how lucky you are, my dear Herr Martin, to be able to stay in your own home! I could sell the two farms and the Hermitage, liquidate everything, come home and settle the children in Switzerland. Should I do it, or would it be desertion, and have I the right to abandon this country to which I have given life and which, I feel, will rob me of my own? Tell me what I should do, dear Herr Martin Birmann, and I will follow your advice to the letter and obey you in everything, blindly.

  'I am addressing myself to you because Father Gabriel mentioned you when he came to the farm to give my poor Anna decent Christian burial. He told me he knew you in his childhood. I believe he is a native of your village; from what I have heard, his name must be März, but I am not too sure as he is as secretive as the Indians, to whom he is devoted body and soul, and he never speaks about his own people, except that once to tell me that he remembered you very well. In earlier days, when I was fighting on the frontier, he was my worst enemy; he bore me a grudge, resenting the fact that I, a compatriot, was making the Indians work, and bringing in Kanakas as forced labour, but, later on, he understood that I could never have achieved anything without them, and that they, for their part, could not have survived without me, once the Mexicans had abandoned them. As for the Kanakas, I have never been a wicked man, and Father Gabriel has been able to see that for himself. At the moment of my terrible misfortune, when all were deserting me, he was the only one to stand by me and he remained faithful to me from then on. Even now, it is only thanks to him that my children have been able to set up their establishments. He is a saint, may God keep him in His holy care, and may He keep you, too, dear Herr Martin Birmann, and bless you for having been a father to my children for so many years. Today, it is in the name of these same children that their father implores your advice: what should I do?

  'Amen.

  'Your brother in Jesus Christ,

  'John Augustus Sutter, Captain.'

  47

  John Augustus Sutter does not wait for a reply from the worthy old Martin Birmann, a solicitor by calling and voluntary treasurer of the community of John the Baptist in his little village of Botmingen, in Basleland.

  John Augustus Sutter begins a lawsuit.

  His lawsuit.

  A lawsuit that revolutionizes the whole of California and comes near to throwing the very existence of the new State into jeopardy. Everyone is passionately involved. Everyone has a personal interest in the case.

  Above all else, John Augustus Sutter lays claim to exclusive ownership of the territories on which towns like San Francisco, Sacramento, Fairfield and Riovista have been built. He has had these lands valued by a committee of experts and claims 200 million dollars. He issues summonses against 17,221 individuals
who have settled on his plantations, demanding that they vacate their premises and pay him damages with interest. He claims 25 million dollars from the legislature of the State of California for having taken over the roads, tracks, locks, mills, canals and bridges, and the installations in the Bay, and having placed them at the disposal of the public. Also, an indemnity of 50 million dollars from the government in Washington for its failure to maintain public order at the time of the discovery of the goldmines; failure to stem the flood of the gold rush; failure to control their own Federal troops, who were sent into the area and deserted in gangs, thus becoming the principal element in the disorder and amongst the most ruthless looters; failure to take appropriate measures to reimburse both the State and Sutter personally for their share from the output of the mines. He submits, in the first instance, that he has rights to part of the gold extracted up to the present time and asks that a commission of jurists give an immediate ruling on the amount of gold due to him out of that which will be extracted from this day forth. He does not ask for any personal sanctions against anyone at all, neither those people in authority who have failed in their duty of seeing that the law is respected, nor police officers incapable of upholding public order, nor prevaricating officials. He bears no man a grudge, but he demands justice, simple justice, and, in bringing his case to Law, he is putting all his trust in jurisprudence.

  Emile has come back from the University and is devoting himself exclusively to this monstrous affair. He is assisted by the four most eminent legal experts in the Union. In his offices at the corner of Commercial Street and the Plaza Mayor, in the heart of San Francisco, he is surrounded by a flock of solicitors, clerks and scribes.

  The cities put up their defence. San Francisco, Sacramento, Fairfield, Riovista and even the smallest communities appoint barristers for life, solely to concern themselves with this particular case, and to oppose Sutter's claims with all their strength and at all costs. Individuals band together, constitute defence syndicates, place their interests in the hands of the most famous lawyers, whom they bring out from the East at outrageous expense. Jurists are at a premium. Every member of the legal profession, down to the last shyster, is dragged in. In all the vast territories of the United States, one can no longer find a single barrister lacking his brief, nor a single man of law kicking his heels in a bar. Solicitors, notaries, bailiffs, articled clerks, scribblers and pen-pushers rush to California, where they swoop down like locusts amongst the cosmopolitan hordes of gold-seekers, who are still pouring in, for the rush is by no means over. This is a new rush, an unforeseen source of gold, and all these people are hoping to live off Sutter's lawsuit.

  48

  During this time, John Augustus Sutter never once sets foot in the capital. He remains on his property and he has recovered all his old energy and vitality. He draws on all his faculties and uses every weapon in his arsenal.

  For he must have money, money and still more money to pay for all this legal red tape.

  His lawsuit.

  This lawsuit which is unfolding in the heart of San Francisco, the damned city which Sutter has never yet laid eyes on.

  49

  Four years go by, during which time the case follows its course before the tribunals.

  Sutter manages to find the money for his insane legal costs.

  All his enterprises are prospering. His small farms at Burgdorf and Grenzach supply San Francisco. with milk, butter, cheese, eggs, chicken and vegetables. At the Hermitage, he has set up a fruit-preserving industry. His sawmills cut the planks and timber which are used in the building of the countless new villages. He has a nail factory, another for pencils. He sets up a paper-mill. Once more, he begins sowing acres of cotton and dreams of starting a spinning-mill.

  The inhabitants of the country, already deeply indebted to him, watch in terror as he amasses this new fortune and rises to ever more menacing power. Sutter is unpopular. Sutter is hated, but Sutter does not care. They cannot manage without his products and he squeezes the people as hard as he dare. 'Let them cough up, the dirty swine,' he is in the habit of saying when he is setting up some new business venture and anticipating its profits in advance. 'Let them cough up, then it will be they themselves who pay the costs of my case.' Nevertheless, by a strange paradox, this man who has such an insatiable need for money does not pan gold or distil liquor. On the contrary, he is in close contact with the religious sects of Philadelphia and leads an ardent temperance campaign amongst the Indians, the White and the Yellow races (he is dead against brandy, but not wine, of which the enormous quantity consumed in the region comes exclusively from his vineyards). And if any gold-diggers should happen to stray on to his property nowadays, he has them beaten without mercy, for they are the damned. Although he rarely opens it any more, the Book of Revelation is always buried in his pocket for, in spite of his crazy energy, there remains in the depths of his soul a great fear and, before God, he is none too sure of his rights.

  Towards the end of the fourth year, his adversaries strike a first, terrible blow against him. The offices of his son Emile are burned down and all the riff-raff of San Francisco dance round the flames as if it were a celebratory bonfire. The entire country is jubilant when it learns that the principal documents pertaining to the case have been destroyed, notably the original title-deeds to lands granted by Governors Alvarado and Micheltorena. At this news, the new settlers squatting on his lands are ecstatic and the inhabitants of the towns and villages parade the streets shouting: 'We've run the wolves to earth! We've caught the old wolf by the tail!'

  On the face of things, John Augustus Sutter takes this blow without flinching but, although he redoubles his efforts and gives orders for his case to be prosecuted with even greater vigour, he feels, in his innermost being, that his strength is secretly waning, while his fears wax full.

  He has received yet another blow from the Almighty.

  O, God!

  I no longer have the strength to cry out. I will make no protest. Yet I cannot find it in my heart to submit. Do with me what Thou wilt.

  I shall fight on.

  * * *

  TWELFTH CHAPTER

  * * *

  50

  On the 9th of September, 1854, the entire population of California is in a carvival mood.

  They are celebrating the fourth anniversary of California's entry into the Union and the fifth anniversary of the founding of the city of San Francisco.

  Already, throughout the previous fortnight, crowds have been coming in by every route and from every corner of the state. The capital is adorned with garlands and lit with illuminations; the Star-Spangled Banner flutters from windows, from rooftops and on all the surrounding hills. At night, fireworks shoot upward to burst in a luminous, crackling shower; salvoes of musketry and artillery reverberate incessantly. The theatres - the Jenny Lind Theatre, the first building to boast a stone façade, and the Adelphi, where a company of French actors are strutting the boards - are constantly packed out. At every street corner, demagogues harangue immense crowds, inspiring them with prophecies of the prodigious future that awaits this new country and this new city. This entire young nation unites in a single sense of its own strength and power, in a sentiment of burning patriotism for the Union.

  The bars are besieged and the well-known saloons packed to the doors, and it is in these haunts, the Arcades, the Belle Union, the El Dorado, the Polka and the Diana, that popular enthusiasm wells up and spills over into demonstrations in honour of John Augustus Sutter. Committees and delegations are formed; colonists, planters, labourers, gold-diggers, women, children, soldiers, sailors and profiteers betake themselves to the Hermitage en masse, and there, under his very windows, they acclaim Sutter, invite him, take him captive, drag him out by force and carry him in triumph to the city.

  Along the way, the old pioneer is saluted on all sides as 'The Ancestor'. The whole population of San Francisco comes out to meet him. The cannon booms, the bells ring, choirs celebrate his apotheo
sis. Men wave their hats in the air, women wave their handkerchiefs while showers of floral tributes flutter down from the balconies. Clusters of human beings, like bunches of grapes, are hanging out into the void, applauding, cheering and shouting hurrahs.