November 8, 1848
Will and I have raised a beautiful daughter, she is walking now talks to her father and they play games. Will has found the time to be with us yet the prospect of gold, of other men having gold, produces more of that insanity, that drives men out of all-reality. I am devoted to the care of my daughter and husband but the obstacles we face shall no longer require us to go-through hardship William has much-time to his mining and in a year’s time he has received 20-ounces of bunion. He says, this will cover Sarah’s needs and he and I will be able to work-free of that burden…
I have saved $300, to use in-case of emergency God forbid that something should happen to either-of-us. Will is becoming more self-assured, confident and less-hungry for the ore. I would not feel impetus yet in these times the fate-of-seekers; have lead to failures or even to murder while the others go, on longing for the metal. While in cities, no-one shows pity or remorse while the proprietors, speculators and gold-buyers charge and hold when the wealthy and impoverished play match-wits over elusive riches. The small pittance of public interests have little-sway as those in-charge have by-passed laws, of duty…
Every week people arrive unknowing the ‘system’ made to way-lay relent and stall, this predicative-justice acts to neatly, sever… I have tried to request of the standing-government officials yet they can not act unless the other members cooperate which many think is an advancing ‘ideological’-principle. The presence of wealth either earned or owned, promoted-progress. They say this aids everyone. Many truly, devoted individuals must subside to greater-issue of willingness, worthiness and worthwhile. Across the region, prosperity is numbered in docents, indulgence and veracity. That makes it virtually, impossible to advance, venture or vantage, for priority-to-challenge, umbrage-issues.
Me and some of the women of the town actually vocalized-forth to vigil, versify and give vital-support to the vintage in making their-lives and community more accountable; our husbands, children and livelihood are at-stake. With money, mandate and municipality being invaded and inverted; the dimension, diminutive and utter ennui, in dispensation; the oracle-hindering our movement will have to face, us. In every move, will have to be faced. In the safety of those wanting-justice, a judgment has to be faced and decided…
…Stephany Calvin, a wife of the local-baker has definite intentions to change things. An imminently courageous, willing and intelligent-woman… She has been taught at a women’s college and wants to invests time and energy to establishing schools, government and make an election-committee to give power to the masses. She is very diligent, insightful and learns fast. Many of the women look-up to her opinions. Yet she has opponents, in-men, who think less of the female persuasion… But her head-strong thinking along with the fact her husband adores her, puts them directly, at odds. She puts many men to shame. She is a women to be idolized. I envy her tenacity of her long-suffrage, strength. Her mind is quite, fascinating. We sit on Sundays in the front-yard of her house listening to hear, insight about our concerns and gives us direction on what to do. Many bring their children to Sunday-school where she teaches lessons on God and life. Her husband wants her to open her own school. It is well, clear she would be capable.
Dear Diary,
My mother is ill and is in bed-rest in a small villa outside Lyons. My 3-sisters are praying for her. My Daddy stays working at the tailor shop; he can not leave as he is responsible-alone. His daughters have begged him to retire as he is growing to old to keep pace. All of my sister are married and must take care of their family, Daddy has tried to ease my Mama’s discomfort but his long-hours puts his time elsewhere. During her coming-on of convalescence she was with high-fever and could not speak or talk. Her peril was not apparent until she fell into her condition. This made the urgency even, greater. Three-doctors who were specialist put her in the infirmary. It was not known, until two-days later. My sisters stayed with her and helped him cope… The vigilance put a strain, on my whole-family.
My sisters marriages were beginning to be distraught by the situation… Though, their patronage, remained devoted-under the trial and tribulation. After her condition didn’t change, they and their family joined to help. I cannot do anything but offer prayers for them-all. I realize I may never see them again. I have written them, and sent money to help in anyway, possible. I have promised myself that one day when I am free from family duties. I shall voyage back, before I die.
Important though my life has been with Sarah, Will and my new home I will never be the same. My dear Papa a diligent, adamant and enterprising man; his third-generation, hard-work and obedience has been rewarded, respected and beneficial… Yet things are changing. In every new day the ways of things blossoms in new things and tomorrow uncaringly, leaves behind. My father who cared for me and Mama who birthed and nourished me to give me life, a wonderful childhood and an independent livelihood. This impartial, embellishment has left me to live as I like and given impetus to chose my own-way. I can only say I thank them and cherished them and understand how important parenthood, providing and how precious life, is to be held…
December 31, 1851
Dear Diary,
The year ends in promise for tomorrow. In the years to come I resolve in the wisdom of Christ Jesus Our Lord and Savior in His Wisdom and Benevolence as in Him shall we progress in His Bounty. Tomorrow shall rest in His Abundant-Arms. As this, my plea the things I hold dear; the life, place and providing owed to my family and those around me. I shall commit to take heed to the duties, understanding and worthiness in insight, value and purpose. As such, I shall provide for my family, use skills God has given me and be thankful for His Riches, bestowed. My dearest-husband, my dear and anointed child and life; which allows me to ably, atone and blessedly, overcome…
Will and Sarah; my treasures in my life I will provide for and devotedly, learn and grow, with. Sarah is a 6-years old, and Will is always in-sight. Will says his daughter is worth more than any amount of gold… He works more as a surveyor yet he believes it won’t be long before he strikes a vein, he laughs. I am head-seamstress, as the former-one, has married and moved-fast. The fever is becoming old. Yet never is site without a digger. Many rich and hungry men offers to buy even the unprofitable land in hopes of being richer. Will has begun to think the land may have wealth without gold on it. He has helped zone land for building and less for gold-plots. The surveyors have been asked more to site construction than oversee claims as in past-years… The diggers these days are unenlightened, easily persuaded and outwitted. Some end-up broke and impoverished lost, to being duped. I have seen perfectly competent men with children, good workmen and talent; invest in thin-air and promised, everything.
The established poor-house has taken many people whose craziness settled their tale. Many of the wives bring meals to them who’d other-wise be running constructive-business… It, the decree our new women’s association, our leader the baker’s wife Stephany Calvin has begun programs to get the men back on their feet. Bringing more town’s folk back to sum, sufficiency and self-responsibility. Our first precepts function to establish an open stop-gap to those met by difficult, desperation and disparate times… We together have given, sense to the seamlessly, helpless aspect today. The California territory is vastly, becoming a proctor of men wanting-order, organization and opportunity; to those who’d proved worthy, citizens; if un-oppressed by the dealings of gold-fever. We worship at the new-church built by the atone-fully, wealthy… Invited by the association’s husbands we worshipped and retired to one of the wealthy-people’s mansion where we quickly, discuss our future. Mrs. Calvin was expected to speak competently and examine the burning-issues we have less assertion… It has been my endeavors to involve myself in needs, fairness and assistance of others, I have seen; given, the blessing of living, thriving and prosperity to-do, the work others can-not; so through my actions, I provide as an Arm of the Lord, in; this I of His Wil
l.
The fabric-of-humanity in vitality; calls for the effort-vibrancy, of everyone… My mentor, Mrs. Stephany Calvin, demonstrates to me the inter-session of minion, all in the Presence of His Caring. As I look into the warmth of beauty, bounty and benefaction; extolled-in this wonderful-country and people… I duly wish to share utterance, embrace and bestowal, I won’t let a moment, waste. My Will whom, I devote and love has shown me love, joy and affection as our love, Sarah Patrice gives us not a moment of un-pleasantness. I am totally, contented to achieve the goals which our lives, better.
William’s oldest brother Patrick has written him telling of his success back East. He has four-children and a wife who loves him. There was a pneumonia outbreak and his youngest brother died of it. They buried him at a Boston cemetery. His other two brothers have fared well… One has decided to return to Ireland. They have earned money and now the famine, has subsided. They have employment in Irish-shipyards. The East, is developing fast. The area has grown populous and industry, building and public-affairs is now advanced in the community. There is even an orchestra, beer pubs, open-markets and public-institutes have arisen to support the need…
They had spent Christmas in the Maryland plantation countryside. His three-boys and one girl. Their mother takes care of them yet the boys require discipline. Horace Mc Masters had established himself as a businessman with pubs and stock in a store and restaurant. Horace had wanted to come see his brother yet Will wasn’t sure if he’d accept Will’s unproductive life-style. He’d thought it would seem impractical and unrealistic. He’d went West to become rich. William, can not match his eldest-brother’s success…
Yet William being close to Patrick, asked if he could come in his stead to let Horace stay and look after his-work. I know Will is a prideful man. I shall gently, guide him to allow Horace to come. There is no-sense in holding pride, as a barrier. Sarah needs to, at least, see her relatives in-any form. I am a Frenchman there are fellow ex-patriots here who I have shown to her. I’ve taught her a few French-words. William’s ‘brawg’ is cherished by his daughter whose diphthong, is apparent. She will be seven, in two-weeks. Will has planned a surprise-party, for which he has bought her a rocking-toy and new-clothes; from my seamstress shop. I have asked him to not buy from our expensive shop but he says nothing is worth as much as his daughter. I have secretly, bought them at discount and paid the difference; putting his money into goods and items I will surprise him with it on his birthday…
If ever Sarah grows to know her dear father she will understand men are projects at-work; and women must redirect, guide them and supply them with wisdom as their muscles complicate other aspects… Will is improving his enterprising skills. He’s beginning to realize paid-work and not endearing-dreams will provide for life’s realistic-atonement. I watch as his undivided, attention conceptualizes dutiful, responsibility and irons-out the small errands a man overtakes, as his faithful determination takes on the lacking once, held premise of gold-seeking… He is a man who makes mistakes as any. He is solemnly, finding out those hidden, premises once-blinded by gold. The gold-fever is weakening and life is returning-to normal…
January 26, 1852:
The fever has caused a war between claim-stakers and speculators. Men have died mysteriously, over gold… Men have arrived-at the tenders with gold and disappear; property has changed hands without notice. Shoot-outs over claim-jumpers and land-holders; have joined forces-hiring wardens and speculators, have hired-enforcers each losing and gaining-ground to find there riches only to fight-off local robbery… And it is a distinct-possibility that the battle, is reaching a head. Some of the citizens tired-of it have begun a vigilante society, to keep from the bloodshed. Will was decided-to volunteer. He says ‘volunteer‘… He says there is more to lose than gold. Will believes the land-grab is too, much. Gold has taken untold-lives because too, few have been responsible.
I pray for him, and all who are brave, sincere and rational-enough to overcome that grievous-fever.
End
Three
Dear Diary,
It is Spring, the warm-weather has given me energy and all the living-things have been renewed and God’s Infinite Wonder has splendor in the land… Although I spend time seeing after work, raising our daughter and housekeeping, we find time to enjoy-life. The Winter was harsh in the way of our community’s strife caused by gold-fever, to that end many have fallen, I and my lady-friends have been fighting this constraining-state… I am finding more that those of us unmoved by riches, reward and wealth are best suited to-beat the ‘bridle’ of least-benefit; ordered, owned and empowered…
Gold makes men mindless to lose everything; sacrifice, security and assail; than sold for ‘a spat’ of the sparkling, metal. A certain-transformation turns men’s heart to soap, spirit into slavery and solace, subordination… We fight what engulfs the simple, surmise and sedate; to run an army of lost-souls, imperiled by endless-hunger, loss and destruction. …We form a brigade of simple, caring and feeling-patrons not caught in the ropes-of-greed. As the Winter has lost its grip, some casualties have been saved while a few have perished, done-in by the imminent-dangers, of despair. Many of us, in the devoted-division of defiance, owed respect-of; against, the entities so enjoined, to this invoked-enterprise…
Some of us are embattled-in our private-war; entailed by dispute, dishonor and dissolution. I hope, as this Spring gives way to calmer and benevolent times, my efforts will be with family and not with lucrative, lewd or lament, involvements…
Will is now, more centered-on his personal-duties, at hand… Though-with work, befallen of the hunt-for-gold. It is taking-less of his time-interest that would better be spent, with his family… Sarah Patrice is growing-fast. She talks and her reddish-brown hair and her green-eyes, are strong and courageous. She enjoys her Daddy’s time they have a best-relationship… Will is beginning to recognize there is more to life, he doesn’t admit to me yet I know he’s more satisfied with something, other than riches. A seeming, doom has entrapped those owing-to be wealthy; making them meet-to the endowed-power to seize themselves, from the ‘few’ and forbidden that lead-to a spirit of vileness, despair and fatalism. My husband, to not wittingly, honor ‘the way’; does-in, admit and releases control of its effect… I believe he, only wants the best yet the appeal to be wealthy deferring, defines mine and a lot of people’s life. The great-vision of America as land-of-opportunity has been undermined by the diffident-sounds of glorious-riches. I have no need for being opulent. The entity of being supremely, rich is in many terms a nightmare-of-omission. Yet in this, perhaps in impact so much is an embodiment, has made the sly-rich, the un-scrupulous-powerful and the strident-slaves. In 1848, America and its territory of California-province, are wholly free to inundate; with subversives, and the power of stolen-money; feeds on the derelict like hunter, and prey. The careless deer-blindly, walking into a forest of wolves. Yet these woods hide them; on-basis of bracing, and forbearance…
Yet ‘the call’ once a grand-scheme, hailing the un-daunting-mind so transfixed on artificial-ideal perfectively, in-framed in an embellished, impress… The power of men yet capable of goodwill can if allowed, impute, great destruction in the name-of-prosperity.
My dream, is to the entitle my family, friends and free-will to encompass duty, devotion and dedication… The value of the deeming of peace, providence and prosperity. Perhaps, in unique-order the grounds of that many have belief. Truly, dreams are made of these hopes, beliefs and faith for which no other can destroy. But fantasies never come-true and waste-time. My dearest, Will must decide which it is going-to be, for I am getting lonely awaiting his pursuit of something that may not be; our Sarah is growing-up and she will need a proper-upbringing that requires support, safety and guidance. If Will, will not take responsibility, I must confront-him. I have no-recourse. The safety of my daughter and myself must, come before frivolous-ponderings and unpro
ven-designs.
May 18, 1852
Dear Diary,
I am pregnant with our-second child, he will be named Baumgartner Garcon Mc Masters, if a boy, which Will believes it will be. Will is more determined than ever to make his strike. Adamant though he is, I keep my resign to myself, my children need a father. Will has proven himself a worthy, father. He spends several-hours a day with me and our-daughter who is very loving toward him. I am not superstitious nor proffering. I will-support, and yet, I will express my resolve to recover my relationship and that I adore him. He will not allow our son to be born that way or exist, to that end… Will’s gold is fast-becoming an ‘omen’ of audacity not obliging, but over-shadowing understanding.
~~~
Dear Diary,
Will is growing, tiresome of his effort to his wish for obtaining-gold. He has plans, schemes and hunches. As our two-children have appeared as gifts in our life, he is hindered by those clouds and stars-of-conviction. The company he has worked for has gone-under; thought to have been bought-out by area investment-barons… They want to hold all-the-ropes to embark on a ‘property-commission’ which would control business and lower single-owner disputes. The women’s group is making a charter to protect those who would be adversely, affected… Will has began slowly, to realize the circumstances are permanent. I am beginning to realize, Will and the world are going to come face-to-face.
Rush Page 3