ladies had the state-room
all to themselves. At every meal the steward would come to me, and
say, "Captain Sherman, will you bring your ladies to the table?"
and we had the best seats in the ship.

This continued throughout the voyage, and I assert that "my ladies"
were of the most modest and best-behaved in the ship; but some time
after we had reached San Francisco one of our fellow-passengers
came to me and inquired if I personally knew Mrs. D---, with flaxen
tresses, who sang so sweetly for us, and who had come out under my
especial escort. I replied I did not, more than the chance
acquaintance of the voyage, and what she herself had told me, viz.,
that she expected to meet her husband, who lived about Mokelumne
Hill. He then informed me that she was a woman of the town.
Society in California was then decidedly mixed. In due season the
steamship Lewis got under weigh. She was a wooden ship, long and
narrow, bark-rigged, and a propeller; very slow, moving not over
eight miles an hour. We stopped at Acapulco, and, in eighteen
days, passed in sight of Point Pinoa at Monterey, and at the speed
we were traveling expected to reach San Francisco at 4 A. M. the
next day. The cabin passengers, as was usual, bought of the
steward some champagne and cigars, and we had a sort of ovation for
the captain, purser, and surgeon of the ship, who were all very
clever fellows, though they had a slow and poor ship. Late at
night all the passengers went to bed, expecting to enter the port
at daylight. I did not undress, as I thought the captain could and
would run in at night, and I lay down with my clothes on. About 4
A. M. I was awakened by a bump and sort of grating of the vessel,
which I thought was our arrival at the wharf in San Francisco; but
instantly the ship struck heavily; the engines stopped, and the
running to and fro on deck showed that something was wrong. In a
moment I was out of my state-room, at the bulwark, holding fast to
a stanchion, and looking over the side at the white and seething
water caused by her sudden and violent stoppage. The sea was
comparatively smooth, the night pitch-dark, and the fog deep and
impenetrable; the ship would rise with the swell, and come down
with a bump and quiver that was decidedly unpleasant. Soon the
passengers were out of their rooms, undressed, calling for help,
and praying as though the ship were going to sink immediately. Of
course she could not sink, being already