“THERE SHE COMES, BOYS!”
town for which it never as yet has received due credit or mention. It was nothing more nor less than the organization of a temperance society, and the first in the mining regions, at least, if not in the State. Money was contributed, and a canvas house was erected with a seating capacity for two hundred persons. Mr. Quereau, a prominent lawyer, was chosen as the President, and Mr. A. W. Bee as Vice-President. The Executive Committee consisted of G. Wheeler, F. A. Bee and three others. Meetings were held two evenings a week, upon which occasions old veterans in the business would enlighten the audience upon the evils of intemperance in general, as well as the horrors and dangers which would result from frequent use of the vile compounds sold in the mining regions for pure liquor. But all things have an ending, and temperance societies are no exception to the general rule. In the autumn of ’50, the greater portion of the active members of the society had departed for other mining camps, and it was finally abandoned for want of patronage.
For the first six months after our arrival in the mines it was hardly possible to get a letter from our friends at home, the only chance being to send to San Francisco by some person who was going down on business or for pleasure. At such times the cost of a letter ranged all the way from $1 to $2, and even in some cases as high as $3 each, for the reason that the one who was willing to do the favor was oftentimes obliged to buy a convenient position near the post-office window in San Francisco rather than take his place in line, and be compelled to remain in the city longer than was necessary. But upon the establishment of regular mail facilities into the mines, in the spring of ’50, there was a change—we received our mails regularly, and within four days after the arrival of the steamer at ’Frisco. Upon the day of the arrival of the mail, eager crowds of miners would gather in front of the office, and watch for the appearance of the stage as it came into view over the top of Hangtown Hill, and “there she comes!” would be the cry from a hundred throats, as it first made its appearance. As the boys received their letters from Molly, Polly and “Sary Anne,” they would take a seat upon some convenient old box or barrel, and eagerly devour the contents, and the nature of the news, whether good or bad, could be easily seen in their countenances.
“There,” said Bob Hewitt, as he drew his coat sleeve acrosshis eyes, after having read his letter while sitting upon a stump in the street, “that’s just my infernal luck!”
“Why, what’s the matter now, Bob?” his friends inquired.
“Matter! why I have just got the news that I have lost a fortune down in old Kentuck.”
“How is that?” they inquired.
“Well boys, don’t you remember that little red-headed cuss who worked with me over in the big canon last winter?”
“Oh yes.”
“Well, he went home on a visit and I sent a lot of specimens and presents by him to my gal, and I’ll be doll garned if he didn’t tell her that I was dead and married her himself, the little cuss, and she had a fortune too. Oh!”
AN UNGRATEFUL PARD.
A regular post-office was soon established with T. Nugent as our first postmaster, and, if I am not mistaken. I think it was Mr. Nugent who first gave to the camp the name of Placerville sometime during the spring of ’51, although it continued to be known and called Hangtown for three or four years afterwards, by the mining community.
At this early day, there was but very little coin, either of goldor silver, in use in the mining regions, and gold dust was invariably used for all business purposes. It was customary in all business places, stores, hotels, and bar-rooms, as well as in the barber shops, to have upon the counter, or other convenient place, a pair of gold scales for weighing the gold dust, with the proper weights for weighing any desired amount, from the price of a drink of whiskey to a sack of flour, the value of gold dust being estimated at $16.00 per ounce, or $.80 to the penny-weight, as its standard value for the purchase of all commodities. In the use of fine gold dust in this manner much was scattered and lost; but in some of the saloons the ingenious barkeepers would take the precaution to cover the floor below the scales with cloth or zinc, and by this means increase their regular salary to some extent. Of one in particular it was said that in handling sacks of gold dust, although he was generally very careful, yet at such a time it was often observed that his hand had a remarkable way of trembling violently. The consequence was that the cloth upon the floor below the scales panned out monthly an average of about $100, which would have been entirely lost but for the wise forethought of the bartender. One of the barkeepers in a prominent saloon remarked that by the judicious handling of the buckskin sack, and with a tight floor behind the counter it was an easy job to realize $300 per month, and, furthermore, that he could even improve upon that, when he felt real well.
The price of drinks at the bar in the mining regions, at this time and during the winter of ’49 and ’50, were 3/4 pennyweight or about $.50 for a single, and one pennyweight (heavy) for two drinks; but it was not until the fall of ’50 that drinks fell to the regulation price of $.25 (fancy drinks extra), which price was maintained for several years. At this early day, nothing could be purchased for a less sum of gold dust, or coin, than $.25, and it was not until ’54 that the little innocent but insignificant dime came into circulation, which was followed a few years later by the diminutive 5-cent piece and the nickel, which will in their turn, no doubt, be accompanied by the 1-cent coin, as our civilization advances to higher conditions of development. Much has been stated in regard to the habits of the early miners, of their intemperance and manner of spending their money; but this is all a mistake, for they were as a general rule industrious and temperate in their habits, and in fact more so in my opinion, than any other subsequent emigration. The first
THE SYDNEY DUCKS TAKE WATER.
temperance organization in our State was organized by these same forty-niners.
It must not be supposed that a residence in California on the part of the natives of the Eastern States, would cause them to forget the habits of their fathers, and pass over in silence or without recognizing, the day upon which all Americans give full expression to their patriotism. Among us were very many who were born and raised under the shadow of old Bunker Hill; consequently, it was absolutely necessary that we do honer to the day by celebrating it in the usual manner, a knowledge of which we had acquired in early boyhood. Stumps and old logs were charged with the powder; guns and pistols were brought into service, and upon the morning of the 4th they told the tale, belching forth the glad news, echoing through the hills that liberty and freedom had perched upon our banner, and that the 4th of July had arrived in California, and was going to remain with us. A military company was formed, commanded by “Squire Bob” (Ed. Otis, of Boston), and with colors flying, marched to the tune of “Yankee Doodle” and other appropriate military airs, performed upon drum and fife around through the town, and when, late in the evening, we retired to our cabins, we felt that we had done our share in the celebration of the day, and although so far from our homes, in a strange land, yet we had not lost nor sacrificed, in our desire for gold, one jot of our respect for the old flag or love for our country. I should have mentioned that at 10A.M., exercises were held in the large tent used for a temperance hall, which consisted in singing the patriotic songs “Red, White and Blue,” “The Star Spangled Banner,” and others of a similar nature, followed by an oration delivered by Mr. Quereau.
It is probably well known that the news of the gold discovery in California reached the Australian Colonies early in ’49, and the consequence was that large numbers of the colonists made their way here immediately, and among them were a great many ex-convicts. This class went into the mines, and in ’49 and ’50 there were a large number of them around Hangtown and in the immediate vicinity. When these Sydney ducks (as they were entitled) were informed that a 4th of July oration was to be delivered in Hangtown, they protested against it, and made certain threats that in case any allusion should be made to England that was at all disrespectful, the orator should suffer the consequences. Mr. Quereau,however, nothing daunted, mounted the platform, and, taking a large horse-pistol from under his coat, he laid it upon the table before him, and delivered his oration in grand style, taking very good care not to forget old England, and he was not very particular in the choice of his language in relation to the events which occurred during our struggle for Independence. But there was no interruption from the Sydney ducks, and it was well for them that they kept good order during its delivery, for notwithstanding a disagreement among the residents of the extreme Eastern and Western portions of the Union, each one held an individual, undivided interest in 4th of July, and any attempt on the part of these Sydney ducks to prevent or to interfere in any manner with the regulation 4th of July oration would have been fatal to them.
CURIOSITY SATISFIED.
During the continuation of the celebration upon the evening of the 4th, a slight accident occurred, although not of a very serious nature, yet very unsatisfactory to an inquisitive mind. Dr. Ruddock found amongst a pile of rubbish a keg, in the bottom of which was a quantity of wet powder. The Doctor was curious to know whether it would explode, and the only way to find out was to try it, and hedid. Placing the keg upon the ground in a suitable position, he stepped back a few paces from it, and with a shot-gun fired a charge into the keg, and his curiosity was satisfied. He concluded the celebration of the day in a very heroic manner, but remarked when his friends, Luke Richardson, Hale Moore and Dr. Marshall were painting and oiling his badly scorched countenance, that he thought he had finished up the festivities of the day very creditably. Said he:
“I had no idea that the darned old keg would kick back in that way; but anyhow my experiment was a complete success, and that’s some satisfaction.”
Fresh beef was now very plentiful and cheap in all the mining districts, and droves of wild Spanish cattle could be seen wending their way over the hills and among cañons, destined for the various settlements. It required, usually, quite a large number of Mexican cattle men, or Vaqueros, to drive a small drove of these wild cattle from Lower California to the mining regions, to prevent their stampeding, which they will often do when becoming frightened. Some curious scenes and narrow escapes of the miners among the ravines were often witnessed, one in particular more comical than serious, however. Upon the arrival into the lower part of the town of a small drove of this species of beeves, they became frightened, and the usual stampede and scattering among ravines and gulches in all directions was the result. A miner was seated upon his stool, washing with his cradle. On the other side of him was the pit from which he was digging his pay dirt. This pit was about twelve feet square and about six feet in depth. Hearing a noise in the rear he turned his head, and saw very near him a wild steer, with the long regulation horns and with blood in its eye. He had no time to run, but leaped over his cradle and into the bottom of his pit. The steer, not to be foiled, followed in his track over the cradle and into the pit with the miner. They faced each other for a moment, and it was difficult to tell which was the most frightened, the steer or the miner. The latter scrambled out as soon as possible, and the steer was secured. This was the only instance ever known of a miner’s claim being jumped by a wild steer.
About this time a storekeeper in town found among a load of provisions hauled from Sacramento City, a barrel of provisions of some kind, which from all appearances and smell was so badly damaged as to be unfit for use. It was therefore consigned to the
BULLING THE MINE.
rubbish heap in the rear of the store, where it was soon covered up with empty barrels and boxes. The proprietor noticed that certain emigrants from the Fatherland would be seen occasionally prowling around the back yard, apparently having lost something. But little attention, however, was paid to them, and one day a burly Dutchman came into the store, tired, covered with dust, and said:
“I vants me some von dot, for I vas walked more as den miles.”
The storekeeper remarked that he couldn’t tell what “dot” was.
“Vell, den, I shows you vat I want. You shust come mit me.”
The storekeeper followed him to the rear of the store, and the Dutchman, pointing to the rubbish heap, remarked that “some of dot in dere vas vat he wanted.”
The boxes and barrels being removed, the barrel of rotten meats was exposed to view, and he was informed that the contents were unfit to eat.
“Ach, mein Gott! I knows better as dot. You shust bust em in, und I shows you.”
The storekeeper, to satisfy him, with an axe “busted em in,” and found to his astonishment that instead of its being a barrel of rotten hams, it was, in fact, a barrel of good, old-fashioned sauerkraut of mature age made in Holland having been brought around Cape Horn in some ship. When the storekeeper inquired of the man how in the world he knew what was in that barrel, with a toss of his shaggy head and with a vigorous sniff he replied:
“Vell, den, I shust nose it!”
This sauerkraut sold readily at a fabulous price, $1 per pound being considered very reasonable. The odor of it had been wafted by the winds though the various ravines and gulches among the hills, and soon was scented by the Dutch miners from afar, who came from all directions to indulge in the odoriferous compound brought from the Fatherland.
Up to this time, quietness and peace had reigned and but few quarrels had occurred among the residents of the country, and, as far as I know, no one had been shot. Neither had there been any robberies committed, for there was no necessity of it since all had the opportunity of engaging in, what was at that period in the history of the country, a very profitable business. Locks upon doors were unnecessary, and articles of value, as well as the gold dust in the cradle, could be left upon the claim in perfect safety. It was from
“I SHOST NOSE IT VEN.”
this fact that originated the old, worn-out term of “honest miner.”
Many strange characters crossed the plains at this season; but a very few, however, came with the intention of mining or of making a living by manual labor at all, the great majority of them being bar-room loafers and gamblers. They all succeeded, however, in making a living by the use of their capital, which consisted principally of their wits.
“Old Pike” was a character common in the gold regions, and specimens of this genus could be found in every mining camp. They were generally advanced in years, good natured, and afforded no little amusement to the miners.
The back-woods fiddler, usually from Arkansas, was also a character seen in every mining town, and his chief business was to seat himself upon an old box or barrel by the saloon door, and give to the miners who congregated in the town after the work of the day was over a specimen of Arkansas music, such as the real genuine “Arkansas Traveler,” with all its variations. By this means he was enabled, at any rate, to sample the various liquors at the bar, which answered also for victuals and clothing.
Another singular character in the mines was the genus generally designated as “Dutch Charley.” They were Hollanders by birth, and sailors by occupation, and singularly enough they were almost invariably the most fortunate miners in the camps in early times. Their claims were rich, and they enjoyed their affluence to the highest degree, for it was no uncommon sight to see one of these “Dutch Charlies” parading in town, on a Sunday, with a huge gold watch in each vest pocket and with an immense chain suspended around his neck and waist, with the ends reaching near to his knees. These chains were made from gold nuggets, which were fastened together with copper wire. But the career of this genus was short, and as the rich ravines were worked out many of them became very poor and hardly able to make a living, the majority finally returning again to the sea.
The circus must not be forgotten, for in any quarter of the globe where an audience can be scraped together will be found the circus. The first to make its appearance in this part of the mining regions was Costello’s. It was, I think, in the Autumn of ’50. He had the usual complement of horses and riders, with the clown as a chief feature, without which the circus would be a verytame affair. The tent was usually crowded of an evening with men and women principally, for the small boy who crawls in under the canvas had not as yet put in an appearance in the mining regions, being a later production, and only coming upon the scene as population increased and society was elevated to higher conditions.
DUTCH CHARLEY.
In the first settlement of the mining regions, game of all kinds was very plentiful, but as the country became more thickly populated, the deer and other game remained higher up in the mountains. Quail and jack rabbits are even at this late day very plentiful. Lions, as well as lynx and wild cat, are often encountered by the prospector, but are generally great cowards, and therefore harmless. The grizzly bears, the king of beasts of this region, which were often seen by the miners, have emigrated to new pastures. It was unsafe to encounter one of these animals unless well armed. Good runners and good climbers they were no respecters of persons, and would attack a lawyer, doctor, or even a minister of the gospel as readily as a common miner, and enjoy it just as much. The tarantulas also, were very numerous at this time, and a dangerous insect to frolic with unless there was a mutual understanding at thestart. Many were bitten by them, and in a few cases the bites proved fatal. Upon camping out amongst the tall grass, it was found to be a very wise precaution to first turn your boots wrong side out before putting them on in the morning.
TURN YOUR BOOTS.
The grizzly is of all animals the hardest to kill, and for this reason many hunters were very seriously injured and killed by them. A miner, who was at work near town, came running in one morning with the news that he had just seen a big grizzly in the brush behind his cabin. It took but a short time for the old Kentucky hunting sport, Dan Boone, a descendant of the original Daniel, to collect together other lovers of bear hunting, who, armed with the long barrelled Kentucky rifles, were soon on their way in search of his silver-tipped majesty. They found his trail, and followed it
TOO MUCH FOR THE BEAR.
for some distance down the big cañon, until they finally lost it among the brush and rocks. They then went to the summit of a low hill to await future developments, but they didn’t have long to wait, for the bear in the meantime had struck their trail, and was looking for them. The animal was soon seen near the foot of the hill, forcing its way through the thick underbrush towards them. Boone was in command for the occasion, and arranged his men in line ready for the word of command, and in a few minutes the great animal came into full view out of the brush and distant from them about 50 yards. Then came the order to fire, and the report of nine rifles echoed among the ravines and cañons. The bear stopped, looked up towards the hunters, shook his head with a savage growl, and continued to move upward toward their works. Boone ordered them to load hastily, and at the word every man to fire and then everyone for himself. When the bear had come within twenty yards of the line, the order was given to fire; but running was unnecessary, for the bear rolled over from the weight of lead. When skinned, eleven rifle balls were found in its body. A miner in ShastaCounty towards the spring of ’50, while out prospecting, was met upon a narrow trail by a fine healthy specimen of a grizzly, and it seemed determined to salute the astonished miner with an affectionate and loving embrace; the latter resisted vigorously the loving advances of the brute, and by a great display of courage and activity did succeed in saving his life, but not without receiving serious injury, his face being badly torn and one of his eyes entirely destroyed. As the country became more thickly settled, the rattlesnake, the scorpion, and the tarantula, as well as all other dangerous and venomous animals, followed in the trail of the coyote, wild cat, deer, and the grizzly, for new pastures far away from the haunts of men, the range of six-shooters, patent breech loaders, long range 42 calibre, whiskey, and the influence of civilization, generally.
THE PROSPECTOR AND THE BEAR.
Climatic Changes—Appearance of Familiar Herbs—Rats—The True Theory—Fall Emigration—The Johnson Cut Off—The Target—The First Young Lady—A Spartan Mother—The Boys Up a Tree.
IT was often maintained by older heads, even at this time as well as subsequently, that climatic changes followed emigration to any or all parts of the world, and that various plants also would follow in their trail; but why was this? Whatever the theory may be, we found the fact one of verity in our experience in California. Can we ever forget the old-fashioned herb bag of our boyhood days suspended from the rafters in the garret, which we used to take delight in pelting with corn cobs and other convenient missiles, and which contained the precious herbs and medical plants that our grandmothers had carefully collected, dried and stowed away for future use? We surely can never forget our unpleasant familiarity with a portion of the contents of these same bags, when suffering from those same complaints with which “grandma” so assiduously and successfully coped! Now, had the grandmothers who crossed the plains to make their homes upon this side of the continent brought with them the ancient herb bag? More than likely was it, that from this bag, suspended from the hoops that formed the covering of the wagons, the seeds were scattered along the highways and byways; for here in this far-distant land where never before were they seen or known, could the familiar plants be discerned, sprouting into life among the ravines and gulleys. For instance, here was the horehound, the motherwort, the spearmint and the entire family of mints, including of course the mint julep, and following later, the U. S. Mint. The wild parsnip, the wild turnip and the catnip (including also in the list a great variety of other nips found at the bar), were additional evidences of the influence of civilization, upon the Fauna, Flora and herbaceous productions of new settlements. The old fashioned mullein stalk, with which we were all familiar in our boyhood days, delayed its appearance in California, at least in the mining regions, until about the year ’58, at which late date it came in the following authentic manner:
A Mrs. Coates, a resident of Reservoir Hill, Eldorado County, requested a friend in the State of Wisconsin to send her a package of the cherry tomato seeds. The friend complied, and the seeds were received in due time and planted. They thrived exceedingly, attaining immense proportions far above the diminutive turnip and radish plants around them; but it was found, alas, as they raised their heads above the garden fence that the cherry tomato was only a mullein stalk. They were allowed to mature from curiosity, and the seeds being blown into the water ditch near at hand the plants became profusely scattered throughout this portion of the mining regions. In referring again to the appearance of the plants before mentioned seeming to follow upon the trail of emigration, it is proper to mention here a mysterious phenomenon which was observed afterwards in the appearance of new varieties and species of plants, found in the mining regions wherever the surface soil had been disturbed, or where the dirt and gravel from below had been thrown upon the surface and exposed to the action of the sun and atmosphere. On these piles of dirt, sand or gravel, new species of plants would be often found that had not previously been seen in the locality. This phenomenon has for many years been reasoned upon, by not only the mining class, but by many able scientific men as well, in relation to the new species or plants, that spring forth from the soil and gravel that have been drawn up from great depths below the earth’s surface. Many theories have been advanced in explanation of the phenomena, and by many scientific men it is maintained that the seeds of such plants have been lying in a dormant state for centuries, perhaps, below the surface; but could not germinate until exposed to the sun or atmosphere. We find upon visiting again the mining regions where we worked in early days, that the hills and ravines in many places where originally there stood here and there an oak, are now covered by a thrifty growth of pine trees, many of them now nearly 40 years of age and of great size. The question, therefore, arises as to what caused these young pines to start from the ground after the miner had commenced his labor of extracting the gold.
Why had they not started previous to the discovery of gold; if mining among the ravines and hills changed the conditions which were necessary to make the coming of the young pine possible, what then were the conditions, and what was the nature and cause of the change? In the investigation of this phenomenon, I found one fact well demonstrated, and that is that these young pines spring into life from the ground only in those localities where oak trees had been standing, and which had been cut and removed from the ground. It was upon this now vacant ground that the young pines came forth in such numbers, and so thickly, as though the pine nuts had been sown in the same manner as grain would have been. From this fact, it is evident that the removing of the oak is the condition or the change required to bring them forth; but yet the question still remains unanswered. I found many localities now covered with this thick growth of pines that formerly but a few only of the oaks had occupied (and in some cases they were at least 150 feet apart), so it could not have been, as has been maintained, that it was owing to their shading the ground that the young pines had not before sprung up. Some scientists who have written upon this subject maintain that the seeds of the pine are scattered just beneath the surface of the ground; but, owing to the shade of the oak, they cannot germinate, and lie there dormant for hundreds of years, perhaps, until the conditions become favorable for their growth. My interpretation of this phenomenon is, that this soil is natural to the pine, or in other words the proper elements which bring into existence this species of vegetation, as the pine tree, are indigenous to the soil, for the reason, no doubt, that all of these barren places were in some pre-historic age, covered with pines: but in consequence of unusual dry season or by fire had become destroyed. Then again the question arises, that since the oaks are not natural to the soil in these locations, how then came they there? This can be explained by the fact that the natives who inhabit these regions subsist upon the acorns to some extent, and by them are scattered among the hills throughout the country; they become imbedded in a short time beneath the surface, germinate, and grow into great oaks. An accidental production, therefore, not natural to the soil, but which extract from it certain important elements necessary for the growth of the pine, and the latter, as a consequence, cannot spring into life until theformer are removed. In other words, it may be stated that since the existence of any form of life, whether vegetable or animal, can only be possible when the conditions are favorable for such an existence, it is therefore very evident that the growth of the oak tree upon this soil changes, in some peculiar manner, those conditions which are necessary for the growth of the pine; consequently, the latter cannot have an existence until the conditions are rendered favorable by the removal of the former. That such is the true theory has been well demonstrated, in my opinion, in a few instances here in California in the case of the wild oats, when a field of wheat has been transformed or changed into the former. Wild oats being indigenous to the soil, or, in other words, the proper elements being contained within the soil necessary to produce this variety of cereal will under certain conditions, for instance, such as plowing, cultivation, or in stirring of the loose soil, spring forth spontaneously without the necessity of previously sowing the seed, and thus preventing the germination of the wheat. This singular phenomenon has occurred upon three separate occasions here to my knowledge, and is, as far as my knowledge extends, a phenomenon that has never been known to occur in any other country except upon a much smaller scale.
But the question might very properly be asked, Since these pines are indigenous to the soil, and await the time when all proper conditions are favorable for their growth, why do they not come forth and cover the ground previous to the growth of the oak, as well as after the latter has been removed?
The only explanation of this in my opinion is, so far as it is possible to understand the phenomenon, that the presence of the oak growing upon the heretofore barren sod, makes the conditions in some peculiar manner favorable for the germination of the pine, by transferring such elements from the atmosphere to the soil as are favorable for it, or otherwise extracting from the soil certain elements which are obnoxious to its growth, and for such reasons, therefore, upon the removal of the oak the young pines make their appearance; at any rate the phenomenon exists, whether the above explanation is the true one or not.
There also was soon seen the old faithful family house-dog, who had followed patiently and wearily through sandy deserts and over mountains the train of his master to find a new and a more pleasant
THE FIRST RAT IN THE MINES.
home upon the Pacific slope; but up to the spring of ’50 not a single cat, or “Kitty,” was seen in this part of the mining regions. Many started with the trains but died before reaching here. In the fall of ’50 many were occasionally seen, having been brought from Oregon and the lower part of California. Domestic animals will, like the herb, and for similar reasons (if any one can explain what they are), follow in the trail of advancing civilization, for here now, at this early day, when we have only scarcely arrived, and havehardly had time to get squared around and get located, or to look about us, we find among us the familiar plants, the faithful house-dog, the occupant of the hearth corner—the cat, and now but one thing, or but one more animal, is wanting to complete the complement needed to give all the appearance of an Eastern home which we have deserted, perhaps forever, and that is the affectionate and the docile rat. Oh, where is the rat! why has he so long delayed!
“He is here! here he is! hello, boys, boys, quick! he has come at last!”
A rush and a commotion in the street outside gave evidence of some tragic event which had occurred, or was about to take place. Men were running from all directions; some with guns, pistols and weapons of various descriptions and calibre, from a bean blower to a mountain howitzer, and all appeared to be concentrating their forces toward a certain grocery store, in front of which were a number of men who were hopping, stamping, and jumping around upon a pile of straw. All were evidently in the last stages of “jimjams,” for they all swore that they had seen a big rat, while others again, who seemed more quiet and composed, maintained that, although they hadn’t seen him, yet they were positive that they smelled him. Yes, it was true, for soon its body was found in the straw, horribly mangled, so much so that its countenance was unrecognizable, but its tail was, and that told the tale of its species. It had sponged its way up from San Francisco in the straw of a crockery crate, and thus ended the career of the first rat that arrived in Hangtown, on or about March 1, 1850.
The arrival of every ship into San Francisco brought its full complement of rats from various parts of the world. The consequence was that, by the fall of ’50, the chief towns near and convenient to San Francisco were overrun with this species of animal. During a walk through the principal street in Sacramento in the evening, after the business of the day was over, they could be seen in swarms, and in some localities it was even difficult to walk along without stepping upon the innocent creatures. On one sidewalk in particular, in J street, I think, upon which were piled sacks of grain and produce of various kinds, could be seen rats by the thousands, of all sizes and nationalities, crawling in among, through, and over these sacks in every direction; through tunnels, down shafts and drifts, in true miner’s style, and from their sleek, healthy
RATS.
appearance they had evidently struck it. They were different in nationality, which was evident from their choice in the selection of food; for instance, in among a pile of sacks containing cabbages, were the Dutch species of rats, brought over in some ship from Holland. There was no mistaking their birthplace, for scraps of Bologna sausage were scattered about, and the scent of Limberger cheese was perceptible. Upon a pile of sacks containing corn, was seen a number of very healthy corpulent chaps who appeared to be engaged in debating some important question. They were probably of English stock, and were holding a debate upon the corn laws. Upon a pile of sacks which were filled with wheat, was seen a large number of rats of all sizes and descriptions: some with long tails, some with short, and some with no tails at all. They appeared to be engaged in a fierce warfare over some very important question, and were scratching, biting, pulling and hauling each other around in a most vicious manner. A closer observation evidenced the fact that these were the true American species, and were wheat brokers “on ’change.” There was no mistaking the nationality of those rats prospecting among the stack of potato sacks beyond, for standing erect upon the top of it, in a very striking attitude, with its paws up in Yankee Sullivan style, was a huge rat, its long tail carelessly thrown over an immense potato in front of it, and in imagination we heard it remark to its companions around it:
“Now, me lads, bring on the b’ys who’d be afther jest treading on me foine tail, thin!”
A pile of mats containing rice was honored by the presence of a lot of Chinese rats. The style of eating, and the manner of handling the chop-sticks was an evidence of this fact.
The time was now near at hand when the semi-civilized conditions under which the earlier emigrants had been living, were to be changed; for there was quite a large emigration on its way from Missouri, Texas and other States west of the Mississippi, and among them were some of the most desperate characters of the frontier. The first arrivals of the emigrants created no little degree of excitement among the younger portion of the community, especially from the fact that it was learned that a number of young ladies were on their way to the mining regions, and would probably pass through the town. About this time, which I think was in August, ’50, quite a large number of miners were at work in and near the creek, along
THE FIRST YOUNG LADY.
the margin of which was the regular emigrant road, following the course of the creek for nearly two miles.
It was late in the afternoon of one pleasant day that the news was passed along down the creek, from the miners above to others below, that a train was coming in which a very pretty young lady was the chief attraction. A dust cloud was soon seen away above, showing that the train was near at hand, and the miners left their work and arranged themselves near the road. As the train approached, the young lady was seen in advance riding the old family gray mare, and apparently unconscious of the sensation which she was the innocent cause of producing among that crowd of unwashed, uncombed and unshaven miners.
She was, as all would swear to, a very pretty girl from the State of Kentucky; the daughter of a colonel who was a veteran of the Mexican war. Of course, it would never answer for ladies who had been traveling over mountains and sandy deserts for three or four months, to appear again in a civilized community in traveling costume, so a halt had been made previous to their entry, a few miles above, and toilets properly arranged. The young lady was dressed plainly but neatly in a common blue calico dress, with a yoke attachment at the top, heavy flounces around the bottom cut bias style, but no paniers to speak of. She wore a broad-brimmed Leghorn, milk-maid style of a straw hat, and a broad, black velvet ribbon around her neck.
The other members of the family had not been so particular and looked just like all other emigrants. The wagon contained, of course, the aged parents, with the usual complement of tow-heads found among all emigrant trains.
The remarks made by the various miners as the young lady passed along upon the old gray mare were very amusing. One youth remarked that, “Them eyes of her’n are jest exactly like my Mary Jane’s,” and another one says, “Now that nose and chin and her hair, too, is exactly like my Marthy’s down in Kennebunk.” “But ain’t she lovely, though?” asked another, and so on, each one remarking how much she resembled and reminded him of some one often thought of away across the continent.
One young man had the audacity to remark, in the hearing of them all, that “That young Kentucky gal wern’t half so good looking as his Matilda Jane down in Jersey,” and they gave the youthto understand that they would have a settlement with him for expressing such an opinion. But the next morning, on coming out to work, they found two stakes driven upon this young man’s claim, and on one was an old sun-bonnet, while on the other was fastened a young lady’s slipper. He had evidently purloined these from the wagon during the silent watches of the night, knowing them to be the property of the young lady from Kentucky. Under such circumstances it was evident that he had repented of his rashness, and he was freely forgiven upon the condition that he would make a division of the plunder, which he did.
The train went into camp near town, and after the day’s work was done, many of the younger boys lounged around in the vicinity of the strangers’ camp to get a sight of the pretty Kentucky girl.
While she was engaged in frying pancakes for the evening meal, a young, sandy-haired miner proposed to purchase one of them from her. She said that they were not for sale, but that she would give him one with pleasure, which she did by dropping it hot from the pan into his hand, and he returned the compliment by dropping into her hand a very pretty gold specimen, which she refused to accept. Upon a little persuasion from the modest youth she changed her mind, however, and slipped it into her pocket.
The emigrants continued straggling in, some on foot and alone, and others in trains drawn by horses, mules or oxen. The variety of vehicles was legion, as some had two wheels and others four; while one man, a tall, sandy-haired Scotchman, rolled along over the dusty road, over mountains, through rocky cañons and across the barren desert from St. Jo, in a carriage with but one wheel, to wit, only a common wheel-barrow.
The emigrants of this year suffered terribly in consequence of the scarcity of grass for animals, for which reason many cattle died, and the emigrants were compelled to finish their journey for hundreds of miles on foot. There were numerous deaths from exhaustion, starvation and disease. After their arrival in town, however, many died from over-eating, and in some cases it was necessary to restrain them by main force from gorging themselves while at the dinner table.
Four young men in town procured horses, and, loading them with provisions cooked ready for use, started out to feed the starving emigrants. A few miles from town they encountered an ox teamwhich was standing in the road. The driver, a large, powerful man, was seated in the road in the dirt and dust in front of them gnawing, or rather sucking, a small piece of pork rind, and in the covered wagon was found the wife and mother, with two or three children, engaged in a similar on occupation. It was the last of their supplies, and upon which they had subsisted for the previous two days. The young men, therefore, furnished them with the necessary supplies at once.
EMIGRATION OF ’50.
A few miles further on they saw ahead of them, in the road, a man covered with dust and dirt and hatless, running at full speed towards them. They discovered that he was an emigrant, and that starvation had, doubtless, made him partially insane. He was pursued and caught, and after being fed he recovered sufficiently to be able to give his name. He stated that a few miles back upon theroad he had passed a woman, with her husband, who was sick in the wagon, and with three or four young children.
“The woman,” he said, “was frying over the fire a few little cakes, and I asked if she would give me one as I was starving. She said that she would to save my life, but that those four little cakes were the last that she had to divide among six of them. I told her that if that was the case I would not rob her.”
And from that time he stated that he seemed to lose all consciousness.