city marshall and doctor come to remove me—taken to a deserted house, which had been used as a sheepfold—bedded in sheep manure—an indian nurse who becomes frightened—spanish nurse sent to me—in a boat with patient job—my fever increases—attacked by robbers—relieved by city marshal with posse—marshal takes the money i have in my care, for safe keeping—spanish nurse scared off—queer sailor nurse—he drinks whisky, sings and dances—his thoughtful care of me—visited by my cousin—kindness of san bernardino saints—recovering from my illness—my clothing burned—heavy expense bill against me—tell the city marshal of my arrival in california as a united states soldier in the mexican war—kindness of the marshal—los angeles assumes the bill for medical attention given me—start for san bernardino—exhausted on the journey—almost die of thirst—relieved by a party of spanish ladies—kindness of spanish families—arrive at san bernardino and meet friends and relatives.
early next morning, the marshal and doctor were there with suitable refreshments, and when the patient had made a feint at eating they told him they had secured a room if he could put up with it. sheep had been kept in it, and it was smoked very black, but they assured him that the conditions were favorable to recovery from the disease. then they took him by his arms and assisted him into an old cart that they had standing at the door; they had an indian to lead the horse.
the patient could not see a particle only as he held his eyes open with his fingers. he told them of his trunk, which had been left all this time where the freighter had dumped it when the writer came into town. the trunk was brought, and the indian led out, the marshal and doctor bringing up the rear.
when we passed the suburbs, we turned to the right, to an old deserted adobe house of two rooms. the front yard had been used as a sheepfold. the doors had been broken down, and the sheep had had free access to the rooms, until the sheep manure was some five or six inches deep on the dirt floor. the rooms were very poorly lighted at best; and to add to the darkness, the sheepherders had camped in them till the whole of the inside of the rooms was smoked as black as a stove. the doctor said it was the best they could do, adding: "it is too d—d bad to put you in such a place, but if you will put up with it, it will be the very best thing for you in the end. the sheepy smell, and the darkness, with some ointment that i will give you, will prevent your being marked; whereas, if you were kept in a light, clean room, you have got the disease so bad that you would be marked all over. then again you have been so badly exposed that you must put up with the treatment in order to recover properly, lest something else follows."
i told him that my condition was such that i was compelled to submit to any treatment they saw fit to give. then they got some tools, removed the dry, hard packed manure, and placed my mattress down on the dirt floor, so that when the covering was spread ready for me it was just level with the manure on the front, the foot, head and back being against the walls.
having turned in, i opened my eyes with my fingers, and found myself in twilight, with an indian man for a nurse. the marshal and doctor left, saying that i should be cared for. then the nurse went off, and soon returned with a custard in a coffee basin; this he said was worth fifty cents. he brought it, and an iron spoon to eat the custard, but when i opened my eyes in such an unnatural way, they appeared so badly bloodshot that the nurse took fright and ran away, leaving me to my fate until 5 or 6 o'clock p.m. then an old spaniard, who was very badly pox-marked, came and said he had been engaged as a nurse, as the indian was so frightened at the disease that he would not return. the spaniard seemed to comprehend the conditions. he got a spanish roll of bread and a pint of milk for fifty cents, then straightened up the bed and left for the night. next morning he was on hand to attend to my wants.
this was on february 6, 1853. the smallpox began to appear in pustules, or rather boils; for it so resembled the latter that i began to think of patient old job. i was sore from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and yet it was only blisters that day, comparatively speaking.
the spanish nurse seemed to understand his business, for as i would roll and toss, the old gentleman would tuck the bedclothes about me, saying, "must not let the air to you. must keep warm, and have warm drink, and have the bowels moderately easy." then he would apply the ointment, and be as cheerful as possible, doing all that he could to divert my mind from my sufferings.
night came on and the blisters enlarged; i became very sick at the stomach, and the kind old nurse stayed by me till daylight on the 7th. the fever still raged fiercely. night again came, and the nurse got alarmed at seeing some six or seven rough men, armed, approaching the house. he hastily gathered his arms full of cobblestones, ran in and piled them on the edge of the bed, and cried out, "can you fight? the robbers are coming. murder! murder!" at that i raised in bed, opened my eyes in the new way, and took up a cobble rock, the nurse standing by the bed shouting "murder!"
the next moment three ruffians appeared at the partition door, in the house, while another presented himself at the window, near the head of the bed. so far as i could see, they were armed with revolvers and bowie knives. there must have been two or three men at the outside door.
the shock came so suddenly that i had no time to get thoroughly scared until i heard men running around the northwest corner of the house. the latter noise was by the marshal and a posse which he had summoned hastily, for a party had been in the saloon and had heard the ruffians say, "let's go and rob that man who has got the smallpox, for he has got money." it must be that some of the party had been the ones who had ripped the belt off of me while on shipboard, where they had been disturbed before they had time to slip it away. thus they had learned about the money, and when they got to drinking and gambling, they probably had decided on robbing the smallpox man to make a raise, but had talked too loud for the success of their plan. the marshal acted so promptly that they were foiled in their plot, for when they heard him and his posse coming, and the nurse shouting "murder!" they fled to the southeast and passed over into a dark, deep, brushy ravine, out of sight, just as the marshal and party gained the south side of the building. the officer said he saw them, but had not time to shoot before they disappeared in the brush and darkness.
the marshal came into the house and informed me of the plot and how he came to hear of it. he said, "now, if you have any money or valuable papers, you had better send for some trusty friend to come and take care of them. i will send for anyone that you will name." i told him i did not know of a better friend than the one who had come to my relief, and if he, the marshal, would take care of the valuables, i would be much obliged. he said he would take charge of them and have them deposited for safekeeping till i wanted them. i then handed out my memorandum book, with the names of the men who sent the money, the amounts, and the names of those to whom it was sent. then, my eyes being propped open, i poured the money on to a handkerchief they had spread over my lap. as the money was mostly in gold ten and twenty dollar pieces, in fifty dollar packages, it was easily and quickly counted, and found to tally with the memoranda. then the drafts and checks were counted, and all put together in the belt—some fifteen hundred dollars—and handed over to the marshal, with dr. jones as witness.
when the gold was being counted out, some of the would-be robbers appeared at the window, and doubtless saw that the marshal was taking charge of the valuables, by which action their plot fell through, and i was not troubled any more. but the experience was enough for the spanish nurse, for the robbers undoubtedly were spaniards or "greasers," and if they could take revenge on him they would do it. some of the marshal's posse stayed till they felt satisfied the danger was all over, then they, with the nurse, left, and next day sent to me an old badly pox-marked sailor for an attendant. he came in with a bottle of whisky that he said was a hundred years old.
the first thing the new nurse said was, "hello, old chum! what are you doing there? come, and have a drink with me." the next breath he said, "no, no, for i know it would not do for you. i will drink for you. so here goes." he then took a liberal draught, and wanted to know what he could do for my comfort. on being told there was nothing i wanted just then, he said, "let me sing you a song," and he sang a very comical ditty. then he said, "i'll dance a jig for you," and at it he went. in the performance he kicked the dry manure pretty nearly all over me and my bed, for he was "three sheets in the wind and the fourth fluttering" (three-fourths drunk, or more.)
when he saw what he had done, he dropped on his knees and begged pardon, making the most humble apology. said he, "never mind, old chum, just lay over to starboard, and i will make it all right." he brushed and brushed away, then said, "now to larboard, and i will fix you all right." so he pounded away, talking all the time in his sailor phrases. finally he partially sobered up, and it would have been hard to find a more thoughtful and attentive nurse. from that time on he stayed with me, told many interesting sea stories, and sang love songs.
on february 10th my cousin, john m. brown, who was passing through that part of the country, came to the door and called. "is that you, james?" at the same time he threw a ten dollar gold piece on the bed; but not having had the smallpox, he dare not come in. we had not met before in eight years. at that date i was suffering intensely, if not the worst that i had done, for i was down so weak that i could not help myself at all.
on the 11th, w. g. sherwood, of san bernardino, came in, saying that the saints had raised some money for me, and had sent him to take care of me until i was able to come out to them. brothers d. clark and j. bailey had told president seeley of my condition. i felt indeed very thankful for the favors shown me.
on the 14th the smallpox had nearly died away, and by the 19th i was considered out of all danger, with prudence. on the 20th, the doctor and marshal came and ordered all of my bedding and a good suit of clothes that i had on when taken down, boots, hat, and all, piled in the yard, and there burned. they said my expenses had been five dollars per day for the house, because of the disease and being close to where the landlord and his family lived. the nurses also had to be paid the same amount per day. i told them i had been out on a long mission at my own expense, and now had so little money that it would cost me every dollar that i had to meet the loss of my clothes and bedding, so it was impossible for me to settle such a bill, one hundred and forty dollars. i had paid for every article i had used except a little medicine the doctor had furnished.
the marshal and doctor said they understood that i had come into the country as a soldier in the time of the mexican war. i told them that i had helped to build the fort that overlooked the town, and that i went to san bernardino canyon and helped get down the first liberty pole that ever bore the stars and stripes on this western coast. at this they asked a number of questions, as if to satisfy themselves whether or not i had told them the truth, and when they became convinced the marshal said: "mr. brown, do not make any trouble, for we will see that you do not have to pay that bill; you are worthy of all the care that you have had, and more too. los angeles will pay that, and you are free to go on your way. we are pleased to have made your acquaintance, and that you have recovered so well; for your case has been a very remarkable one, to have had the disease so badly and after being exposed as you were, to have recovered so soon, with scarce a mark left on you. it has been a most wonderful case, and we congratulate you on your safe recovery, and wish you success on your journey to salt lake." of course i could not feel otherwise than very grateful to those two gentlemen for their kind attention and largeness of soul. then we bade each other good-bye and i am not conscious that we have ever met since that day.
brother sherwood and i stored my trunk, put our other effects on his poor old stallion, went down town and got my money and some provisions and a bottle of old whisky, and were amused to see so many people run from the smallpox, while others stood afar off and gazed. finally, on february 21st, we set out for san bernardino, eighty miles, on foot, one leading and the other punching the old horse, which was so weak that he stumbled wherever the road was a little rough. we only got ten miles that day.
on the 22nd we proceeded on our journey another ten miles, when it was impossible for me to go any further. i was thoroughly exhausted, and had to lie down or drop. we were ten miles from water, and so thirsty that it seemed that i must die on that arid plain. brother sherwood, however, proved equal to the emergency. he got me on to a pair of blankets, led the old horse up so as to cast a shadow over me, then hastened to soak a piece of bread in some old whisky. he gave me the bread, saying it would slake my thirst, and stimulate me. strange as it seemed to me, it did so, and in a short time i was able to rise alone, and sit up.
we had not been there a great while when we saw a party of spanish ladies coming in on another road, that appeared to unite with the one we were on; so by an effort we gained the junction just as they did. they stopped their cart, and asked if we would have some wine. we said we preferred water, and they gave us both. seeing that i was very ill, they invited me to ride with them, making room so that i had a place between the two on the front seat and rested my head and shoulders on the laps of the two on the rear seat, while they bathed my head with water, and urged me to take a little more wine. it did seem that if it had not been for this most unexpected kindness i should have died of thirst and exhaustion before we could have reached any other source of support.
brother sherwood followed in the rear to where the ladies lived, but before he came up i was helped on to a bed in a cool room, and had some refreshments, with a cup of chocolate. oh, how thankful i was to those blessed spanish "senoritas!" when their husbands came in, they shook hands and seemed to be pleased that their wives had dealt so kindly with the strange american. brother sherwood soon arrived, and they unpacked his horse and took care of it, while the women supplied him with water to bathe his hands and face, and with refreshments. then he and i retired early.
next morning, february 23, we were served with chocolate and tortias (pancakes) before we were out of bed. our hosts had only a humble home, but so kind were they in their attentions to us that it aroused suspicions of a large bill to pay, but when we asked them the amount they shrugged their shoulders spanish fashion, and with a pleasant smile said, in spanish, "nothing; friendship; no more." as we bade them good-bye they said they would be pleased for me to allow them to have the little smallpox scab that was on my nose, if we thought it would not leave a mark, so they and brother sherwood removed it, and thought it would not leave any pit; therefore i allowed him to remove it and leave it with them. still it did leave its mark till this day.
we proceeded on to a ranch where we met with a fourth cousin of mine, john garner, who kindly offered me a seat in his wagon. he was loaded and could not start till late, but we could reach his place before midnight, and brother sherwood could push on; for when we started sherwood would not be able to keep up. i accepted his proposition, and we reached his home at 11 o'clock p.m.
on the 24th i went to what they called at that time, i believe, fort san bernardino. there i found many warm-hearted friends, and a number of relatives, among them john m. and alexander brown, my cousins. i made my home with the latter, who, with his wife, was very kind to me. i also visited many old acquaintances. my trunk i sent for by sidney tanner, and he brought it from los angeles free of charge.
