RUINED CASTLES OF THE ’49ERS.
Upon that level spot to the right two men from Connecticut made their homes throughout the fall and winter of ’49-’50, with nothing to shelter them from the rain but an old wagon cover. They were industrious, out at work early in the morning, and generally the last to quit work at night. During the time which they workedin the mines, which was a little less than a year, they never struck what was termed a rich pay streak, but only what was termed an average paying claim or wages. Yet Scoville and Davenport, which were their names, took home with them in the fall of ’50 something like $11,000 apiece, as the express agent afterwards stated, thus proving that industry, even in mining, is the main thing in luck.
You observe away up that ravine a level spot now covered with trees. If you take the trouble to walk up that way, you would see a few old logs and the remains of an old chimney, being all that is left now of the once pleasant home of two young men from the city of Baltimore. They arrived here early in ’49, and found that ravine very rich. Starting for their native city in November of the same year, they took with them, as stated at the time, about $20,000 apiece, but in the course of a few weeks they returned to the mines, wiser perhaps, but poorer men, having spent their money, as one of them explained, in the study of natural history at one of the gorgeous and inviting gambling menageries in San Francisco. As I have before mentioned, they resided in that cabin for many years but finally left for other mines.
Just over yonder, on that level spot at the foot of the hill, now the Chinaman’s garden, was the cabin of Dr Wakefield with his wide-awake wife, hailing from the State of Connecticut, and she had the whole field to herself in one respect, at least. She furnished the miners with the regular, old-fashioned mince pies that they had been accustomed to eating in their Eastern homes, and at a price too which no one could cavil at, it being for pies plain $2 each, sugared upper crust 50 cents extra. Whether it was owing to the healthy nature of the pie material, or from the fact that the lady herself never ate any of her own pies, perhaps will never be known. At any rate, she is at the present time in good health, and a resident of the city of Oakland.
In the lower part of Hangtown, and nearly opposite to where the foundry now stands, was the cabin of John Cook, and his wife was the first washerwoman in Hangtown.
Just below them, on the bank of the creek, was the cabin of the two Russell brothers, from the city of New York, who returned home in December of ’49, taking with them about $12,000 each, which they took from Oregon Ravine.
On the opposite side of the creek, upon the side of the hill, could
THE FRISKY FLAPJACK.
be seen for many years the remains of an old cabin that was built and occupied in September, ’49, by a company of pilgrims who came around Cape Horn in the good ship “Mayflower” from New Bedford, Mass.
Up there by the bank, on the opposite side of the creek, was the old log cabin in which lived Uncle Ned Keegen, and he continued to occupy it for many years, at the present time living with his family on the same spot.
Nearly opposite, on the flat, was a more pretentious residence: a costly edifice, and an illustration of the expensive habits of the Forty-niners, being constructed of shakes and pine poles. In this were domiciled A. F. Bee, his brother F. A. Bee, C. C. Batterman and others, who came around Cape Horn in the ship “Elizabeth Ellen,” from New York.
During a walk down Weaver Creek, we saw the remains of the old building used by Darlington as a store in ’49, and upon the flats and points, as we passed along down the creek, we noticed the remains of numerous chimneys, which are the indications of the former existence of cabins that were occupied by the Forty-niners; and a short distance below the village of Weaverville a few years previously could be seen the old decayed logs and chimney of the cabin in which resided Mr. Frank Pixley, now editor of theArgonaut, San Francisco, who engaged in mining on the creek. A short distance below, the remains of an old chimney were seen that belonged to a cabin which was occupied by three or four Nantucket boys, who came around Cape Horn in the good ship “Fanny.”
In following down the creek, the old decayed logs and ruins of ancient chimneys could be seen upon various points and flats that were used as homes by the Forty-niners; while near Cold Springs, there upon the side hill, is plainly visible the remains of a cabin erected in ’49 by W. Salmon & Co.
Over there upon that point, those old logs and fallen chimney is all that is left of a store owned by Sturgess & Hill, which was the first store, I believe, that was started at this camp.
I might continue in describing the present appearances of the pleasant homes of the Forty-niners, located among the ravines of the mining region; but the reader in imagination can see scattered around about, upon every available spot, the ruins of what wasonce the pleasant abode of this now almost extinguished and forgotten race.
But what an interesting book that would be to the Forty-niner, if we could read the history of each and every one of these old Forty-niners, the former occupants of all these now decayed log cabins; to read of the success of a portion of them, as well as of the defeated expectations of the greater number, and of the present condition, where living, and of their final success or failure in life. And although no doubt such a history would show us that but a small proportion of those old-timers who are now living have achieved success, or who are at least at present in the enjoyment of it, yet it cannot be doubted but that the desire or wish would be unanimous to live over again the scenes and incidents of the past, and to experience once more the exciting pleasures and expectations found only among the mountains of the mining region. Oh, yes, one would answer; if we could only know what we have since learned in relation to gold mining; but such knowledge would break the spell and utterly destroy all interest, since the charm not only in seeking for gold, but in all other human affairs, consists more in the anticipation than in the realization.
There is one fact in relation to all of these old cabins, which were built and occupied by the Forty-niners, which may be of some interest to mention. In early mining days the conveniences for storing and taking care of gold dust were very poor. It being plentiful, the miners were very careless in handling when engaged in drying and cleaning it, which was usually done upon an old shovel or an old pan. The consequence was that much of the fine dust was scattered among the ashes or around upon the floor. The small buckskin sacks, also, in which each one usually carried about with him for present use a quantity of fine dust, were of poor quality, and through the seams of them fine dust would work its way out.
The discovery was made by some inquisitive prospector, in the spring of ’53, that the most of these ancient castles would pay to pan out, as well as the ash heaps in front of the door, and one enterprising prospector, previous to the fact being generally known, bought up a number of them, from which he realized quite a sum. From one in particular, that I remember, which was a large cabin and had been occupied by a number of miners who had rich claims, he realized the sum of $600 from the dirt scraped up from underthe floor and the fire place. These old cabins were hunted for among the various cañons and ravines (for it must be remembered, as I have previously explained, that this portion of the mining region around Hangtown, as well as Coloma where the first mining was done, was worked out, and was almost entirely deserted by the spring of ’54), and they all paid well; the amount cleaned from the floor and ash heap, as a general rule, giving some indication of the success of their former occupants.
Many of the old-timers, when starting out for the new discoveries in the spring of ’50, not wishing to be encumbered with their gold, and for fear also of losing it, would in such cases bury it somewhere around the old cabin beneath the floor or stones in the fireplace, or in some other locality, until they returned. Some of these hidden tin cans were afterwards found, and there is no doubt but that many of them are yet remaining securely hidden among the rocks, or beneath the roots of some large tree; for a portion of the miners never returned to the old mining camp, having died perhaps in some other part of the mining region. In other instances as of those who did return, two or three years afterwards, perhaps, they had forgotten where they had buried their gold, and searched for it in vain.
I remember the case of one old miner in particular, who, previous to starting out upon his prospecting expedition, took the greatest pains to bury his can, containing several thousand dollars worth of dust. And he did it in a very scientific manner: measuring so many yards due north from a certain stump; then so many yards due west; then so many to the right, and so many again to the left, etc., burying his can at the last point of measurement. Of course he made a chart of all this in true surveyor’s style; but unfortunately for him he lost the chart, and the old stump was gone also. So, after digging and prospecting around for more than a year to find where that last point of measurement was, he was finally compelled to give it up, and the can yet remains hidden only a few feet below where that last little peg was stuck into the ground.
Meeting of the Old-timers—The Buckeye Tunnel—The Best as it is—Boozer Who got Skunked—The Hydraulic Miner—Mike’s Explanation.
Meeting of the Old-timers—The Buckeye Tunnel—The Best as it is—Boozer Who got Skunked—The Hydraulic Miner—Mike’s Explanation.
TO an old-timer who is socially inclined, and I believe this is a trait of character peculiar to the most of them, there is nothing, at least of a social nature, that can be more agreeable or pleasing to him than to meet with the old-timers with whom he was acquainted, or with an old pard with whom he lived and worked nearly forty years ago.
It was upon a certain occasion, but a short time ago, when, having to pass through an old mining locality, that I met by chance at a miner’s cabin in the now dreary and almost deserted mining camp a company of old miners, and among them found five old-timers whom I had known nearly forty years before in the mining regions, where they were engaged in mining.
For instance, here was old Mike, a rare specimen from the “old sod,” who was one of our company when at work at Kanaka bar upon the South fork of the American River, in the winter of ’50-’51. He was a man overflowing with humor, of rare intelligence and generous to a fault.
Here was Tennessee also, who was a fine specimen of manhood from the State which gave him his sobriquet, a man who was true to his friends and with few enemies, and they were careful to keep out of his way, although he was always ready to forgive an injury.
Another one was Jeff, who was a happy-go-lucky specimen of an old-timer, who delighted to tramp around among the deep cañons and high rocky cliffs for a prospect; not, however, that he expected to derive any benefit from the rich discoveries that he might make, but, as he expressed it, it did just make him feel awful good to see his friends and relatives enjoy it.
Here was Jim also, a character similar in many respects to Jeff, and who like the latter had washed from the soil a respectable fortune but had scattered it among his friends and relatives in the East, this manner of using it affording him the greatest enjoyment.
And last, though not least by any means, was Jersey. The latter in early mining days had been very fortunate in all his mining enterprises; had made and lost several fortunes in assisting others, and even now in his old age was confident that it was to be his good fortune to once more strike it rich in some far away and remote mining region, for to his mental vision distance seemed to lend enchantment to the view.
There were present old Pike and Boozer, who were yet in harness, tramping about among the various mountain ranges of the coast, wherever the indications were in their opinion most favorable for another raise that was to exceed all previous ones.
Here also was Julius, a venerable colored individual from Boston, an old-timer, too, and who had, like Mike, and for similar reasons, abandoned mining, and was engaged in ranching.
The day after our meeting was a rainy one, and was spent in relating our experiences for the past forty years in the various mining sections of the coast; narrating our prospecting adventures among the various mountain ranges that we had climbed over, and the deep, dark cañons through which we had tramped in hopes of once more making a raise.
It was interesting to hear each one in his turn relate how near upon certain occasions he came to striking it awfully rich, or what he might have done if so and so had not occurred, or what he didn’t do and ought to have done, while another would explain how near he came to making a big thing if he had only stuck to his claim a little longer, or had only run his tunnel in a little farther.
Yet another would relate how he spent every dollar upon his claim by sticking to it a little too long, and found at last to his sorrow that it was of no value whatever.
And this led to an argument upon the question as to how long a miner ought to stick to his mine.
Many instances were related to show how a great number missed it by abandoning a claim too soon, before bed rock had been struck in the shaft, or gravel in the tunnel; while other cases would be
Yank. Mike. Jim. Jeff. Jersey. Pike. Tenn. Julius. Boozer.MEETING OF THE OLD-TIMERS.
Yank. Mike. Jim. Jeff. Jersey. Pike. Tenn. Julius. Boozer.MEETING OF THE OLD-TIMERS.
Yank. Mike. Jim. Jeff. Jersey. Pike. Tenn. Julius. Boozer.
MEETING OF THE OLD-TIMERS.
mentioned of how miners had spent their last cent in prospecting a claim that they ought to have quit long before, as all their friends advised them to do.
But upon the whole it was the general opinion that owing to the nature of the business it was very uncertain and difficult to tell exactly when a miner should abandon his mine, for it was found that after all it was about an average, since just as many hit it by quitting a mine as others missed it by hanging on too long, and the number who hit it by sticking to it about equalled those who missed it by quitting too soon.
It was, therefore, decided that there was no rule to be governed by in arriving at a conclusion, but that a miner must use his best judgment and trust to luck.
One miner related how it was that he missed making a fortune by running his tunnel a little too “fur” to the right, and another who run his tunnel a “leetle too fur” to the left. A third, who worked a whole year in running his tunnel into a hill where the rock was hard, and no gravel making its appearance, quit in despair, but soon after others went in to work and running the tunnel but a few feet farther struck rich gravel.
One old-timer related that in ’53 he and five others worked about fourteen months in running a tunnel into a rich cement-capped hill, expecting when they started to strike gravel at least in six or eight months. The storekeeper in town who was furnishing them with supplies told them that he would be compelled to close down, for he had not the means to continue furnishing them. They were in a bad fix, and a portion of the company were in favor of abandoning the mine at once, but were finally persuaded to run one more week, and then if not through the bed rock to quit for good and all.
At noon upon the Saturday following they quit the mine where they had worked faithfully for more than fourteen months in the hardest kind of blue porphery, and concluded to try another hill near at hand, where the prospects seemed more favorable.
In the afternoon five of them donned their store clothes, went into town and reported to the storekeeper the state of affairs, but promised to go to work immediately in the ravine and pay up their indebtedness as soon as possible. The old miner, continuing, said that “one young chap they called Sandy didn’t go into town with
AN UNEXPECTED FEAST.
us, but as soon as we had started for town he takes his tools and candle and goes on a prospecting expedition in the tunnel which we had abandoned forever.”
When we quit work at noon there was a large block of prophery overhead which seemed to be loose, but we didn’t think it worth while to remove it.
Sandy said afterwards that while eating his dinner he was thinking all the time about that loose rock, and that we ought to have wedged it out, and that was just what he remained at home for. With the gads and sledge it soon fell from its place, and upon examination he discovered, to his astonishment, sand and gravel on its upper side. Upon holding up his candle he found that we had sure and sartin struck pay gravel. Sandy tried a pan of it and found it rich beyond all expectation.
Upon our return from town to the cabin at night we found the table all set in the very highest style of art, and bottles of champagne were included in the bill of fare. We thought Sandy had gone crazy sure in thinking perhaps of his great disappointment, but when asked for an explanation he only pointed at our gold pan which we saw in the center of the table and resting upon the bottles of champagne. Upon looking into the pan we saw several dollars’ worth of gold dust in the bottom of it, and when we asked him where it came from he pointed his finger in the direction of the tunnel, but we wouldn’t believe a word of it until we had all marched in, in single file, to the end of the tunnel and seen with our own eyes the rich gravel above.
Well, we invited in the boys around, and you bet we just made the night howl. The next day was Sunday and the folks around that camp were astonished to see the whole of the Buckeye Tunnel Company march into church dressed in their best for the first time since they had been in the country. For you see we all felt kinder inclined that way after our good fortune in striking pay gravel.
And these illustrations led to a discussion by the old miners of the uncertainty of not only the mining industry, but of human affairs in general, and old Mike remarked:
“Yis, yis, me b’ys, so goes ther wuorld, for ’tis now yez do and now yez don’t. And again, jist as ye do ye don’t at all, at all, for ’tis jist always afther being a leetle too fur to the right, or a leetle too fur to ther left, de yez see, with all of us. I tell ye, b’ys, thismining business is afther being like all other kinds of business jist; ’tis always jist a leetle ahead of us, de yez see, and jist at that pint when yez are afther ixpecting it ther most, and jist as yez are commincing to faigure out where yez be afther goin, and what yez be afther doin, and how yez’ll be afther spinding all your money, do yez moind, ’tis jist at this pint, me b’ys, ther bed rock kicks up and shlaps yez in ther face, and thin ther purr divil of a miner curses his luck, piles his blankets and tools upon his back and thramps around to find another rich mine that’ll sarve him ther same thrick. But ye ould miners are always jist afther foinding ther spot thet’ll stick right by yez, where yez will some day be afther makin yer pile, and ’tis these ixpectations thet kapes yez agoin’, thrampin around among ther hills, all over ther country, hunting for that same, but ’tis always jist a leetle ahead of yez, jist as ’tis in all other kinds of business in this wuorld. And, be jabers, ’tis moity few of them who are ever afther catchin up with it at all, at all, do yez moind thin.”
“Yes Mike”, Yank remarked, “all human affairs are mighty uncertain, and few of us meet with what we expect; but then we must keep pegging away, and never say die, as long as our grub holds out.”
“Tis thrue for yez, yez must do that same, an’ be jabers thin, yez’l be afther findin’ some toime, if yez sticks to it faithfully, that yez will be afther sthriking it rich, and with the bed rock pitchin’ jist whin yez are ther laist ixpicting it at all, at all, for that’s the way it works with all of us.”
Then Jersey remarked: “Well, boys, what a heap of trouble, vexation, and disappointment would be saved in this life, if we all knew just where and when to begin; where to stop; when to turn a little to the right, or when to turn a little more to the left, or just how long to keep a goin’ either way in all of our affairs; then, when we come to get old, and to look back upon our past life, we would escape from all the vexation of thinking: oh, now if we had only done so and so at such a time, if we had only gone a little further to the right upon such an occasion, or a little further to the left at another time, or had only quit, or had gone on, or had gone to such a place, how much better would it have been.”
“No, no: not at all, at all!” interrupted Mike, “for if we was all afther doin’ that same, we wouldn’t be contint at all, no more than we are at presint, for then ’twould be ther great quantity we wouldall be afther ixpictin’ ther whoile, do yez moind! jist for ther sake of batin all ther rist of ther bys do yez see, and we wud all be disappointed ther same, an now, be jabers! ’tis ther best as it is now in me own opinion afther all. And thin agin’, me by’s, if all ther knowledge an’ exparience which it takes a life-toime to learn is all afther bein’ understood in ther begining, ther problem of life wud be solved; but, be jabers, b’ys, what wud sich a life be good for at all? Fray from all vexation and trouble, indade thin we wu’d live like ther baists in ther failds; satisfied and contint under any condition, an’ begorra! we wu’d soon larn to browse by ther wayside, an’ be thankful for the loikes of it.”
Just at this point another old miner, a long lean specimen of antiquity from the State of Arkansas, and who had been asleep in the corner, now aroused up and remarked: “Well boys, that is a fact as Mike says, for ’tis now you do, and then ag’in you don’t; but I never told you boys how I got skunked once out of a good claim did I? No, for I don’t like to tell it, for it has sich a smell that it makes me sick.
“But this is how I got left, by going a leettle too fur to the right or to the left, I never knew which.
“You see ’twas down in Calevaras, along in the spring of 51. I took my gun one day, and went out a few miles among the hills on a hunt; well I come across a deep ravine that looked as though it might be tolerable rich: it never had been prospected much anyway, and I concluded to do a little panning jest for fun; there were some boys livin’ about two miles from this ravine that I knew, so I went over to their cabin, and borrowed a pick, pan and shovel, and I tell you that I struck it rich; I found the gravel about four feet deep to the bed rock, and I got as much as ten dollars to a pan. After panning out about $75, I filled up the hole again, covered it over with brush, so as to make it look jest natural like, and started for home.
“When I took home ther borrowed tools, the boys wanted to know if I found anything over in that ravine where I was prospecting? I said no, nothing much; but they kinder suspicioned from my looks that I had found good prospects; I hurried home, and made up my mind to git my tools, mining notice and everything ready, and start out early in the morning before daylight for my rich ravine.
“Well I was on the way out thar about daylight the next morning, and went around another way, so them chaps that I borrowed ther tools from wouldn’t see me.
SKUNKED.
“When I had got almost to ther ravine, in crossing over a hill, I jest ran a-foul of a big skunk right in ther trail, I tried to git around him, but he walked right up towards me, so I threw down my tools, picked up some rocks, and went for him; but, somehow or other, I couldn’t hit him, and he jest kept on drivin’ me back down ther hill, but I picked up a big club and laid him out cold, after foolin’ away more’n an hour trying to kill ther odoriferous cuss; then I took up my tools and hurried over ther hill down into my rich ravine.
“But I tell you, boys, jest as soon as I come in sight of it I was mad clean through, now you bet, for right down thar on my rich claim, and hard at work, was them chaps that I hed borrowed ther tools of; they had got ahead of me, while I was foolin’ with that skunk, and hed taken up the whole ravine.
“I tried to reason with ther fellers, told them that I hed sunk ahole thar the day before, and had therefore a right to it; they wanted me to jest show them where I had sunk a prospect hole, so I went to ther pile of brush, and says I ‘right thar,’ they said thet no hole had ever been dug thar at all, so I jest kicked away ther brush to show ’em, and I’ll be dolgerned, if thar wasn’t a slate ledge right under it; them boys had moved that brush either to the right, or a leetle to the left, so I couldn’t tell whar ther spot was myself, and thet’s how I got skunked out of a rich claim.”
“There,” says Tennessee, “now I have found out ther reason why we never could get old Boozer to play a game of euchre with us, he was afraid of getting skunked again.”
“Well, now, old pard,” replied Boozer, “I reckon yer hev struck it right squar on ther head, don’t want any more of the animile in mine. Why, boys, I hev been studyin’ gee-ology and gee-ography for nigh forty years, jest to see if I couldn’t find some country whar they don’t raise skunks, and as soon as I can find one I’m jest agoin’ to emigrate thar, you bet.”
Another miner now explained how it was that he and three others who owned a valuable mine up in Nevada County lost it. He explained that it was an hydraulic mine, and they had used all their means, as well as more than two years of hard work, to get started in working it, when up come the officers and forbid them running their tailings into the creek, and he continued by saying:
“This was an infamous outrage, after having spent our money and labor, then to be compelled to quit work just because a few little one-horse ranchers below in the valley made a fuss because our gravel covered up their potato patches and radish beds. Now it is plain to any reasonable, sensible man that mining being the chief industry of the country, and the original industry, too—for ’tis just what brought us all here and nothing else—we have the first right to mine or to get the gold from the hills in any manner we see fit; and these ranchers have no right to settle upon, or to undertake to cultivate the ground in the valley and on the flats below where our tailings will lodge. If they do, in my opinion they should be the ones to suffer the consequence and not the miners. Why, just see the effect of stopping all of this hydraulic mining. There is $15,000,000 in gold taken from our money circulation yearly; now how many centuries would it take them little ranchers to raise that amount of money upon the land that they say we have ruinedforever? Why, they never could do it, and we have got to lose our valuable mining property jest because the judge is agin us.”
At this point Mike interrupted the hydraulic miner by asking:
“Do you understhand ther raisons why ther judge was aginst ye?” He said no, he couldn’t exactly understand it, unless he owned a potato patch himself somewhere and was afraid it might git covered up.
“No,” says Mike, “that’s not ther raison at all; for don’t yez know that in a fray counthry ther loikes of this, where ther paple thimselves are ther rale sovereigns, thin it is recognized be universal consint, do ye moind, that no man shall be afther following any business, do yez see, that shall in any manner be afther continually injuring or destroying ther property of anither.”
“Oh, yes,” replied the miner, “that is all right, but remember that this is a mining country. We were here first and bought our mining ground from the government with the privilege of working it to the best advantage.”
“Faith,” retorted Mike, “‘tis thrue ainough that we miners came here ther first, but, me b’y, that cannot prevint others from comin’ here and engagin’ in any other koind of business they plaise. Because we miners came here first is no raison why we should control ther forest or ther mountain strames. We would have no right, because we was afther using ther wathers first to dam them up and prevint thim from running into ther valleys below. We have a right to moine, that none can deny, and in any manner we plaise, so that we aren’t afther harmin’ anybody else; but, begorra, thin, have we a right to wash all ther sile from ther hills above into ther valleys and straims below jest for ther gould that’s in thim, and prevint the paple from making an honest living upon the rich flats and bottom lands, that we wud be afther covering up with our tailings, begorra. An’ thin agin, if that same idee or priority of right was the true one, where thin, be jabers, wud yez be afther stopping, for wouldn’t Mr. Marshall thin who was ther first diskiverer of gould, have ther right as ther first diskiverer of bossing ther whole business, be jabers.”
“Well,” says the old miner, “you must admit that the loss to the country of fifteen millions a year is a heavy one to take from our money circulation.”
“Indade, thin, yez miners who dig it out from ther sile, are not afther saying much of ther same. ’Tis thrue that it is not aftherdrawin much interest whilst lying idle there in ther hills, but, be jabers, ’tis ther safest place to kape it thin, and yez can always find it, for there it is; but when ’tis afther gittin into thim bank vaults in ther big city below, divil a bit are yez afther sayin’ ther color ov it agin, at all, at all. And thin, agin, me b’y, did yez ever know of a miner, or many of thim at laist, who was willin’ to pay ther rancher for ther land, fences, or for ther crops they desthroyed? And indade thin, are yez yourself willin’ to go and pay for ther damages yez wud be afther doin’, and don’t yez think that wud be right?”
“Oh, yes, in some cases, if the ranchers would be satisfied with a fair price for damages.”
“Ah, yis! if they wud only let yez, the miners, assess ther damages thin, but, begorra, ’twud be little ainough they wud be afther recaivin, in moi opinion.”
“Well, I admit,” says the miner, “that ’tis very unfortunate. But we are not responsible for their loss, for the ranchers should not have made their homes in such localities.”
Jersey now asked Mike if he didn’t think that dams could be constructed that would prevent the sand and gravel from doing any injury. Mike answered “that sich dams wud answer only for a toime, for owin’ to carelessness, accident or bad wuork, ther toime wud come whin ther sand and gravel in thim dams wud all raich ther lower livils be ther natural law of gravity, begorra, and for this raison, in me own opinion, it wud be a waste of toime and money to attempt it; but the only way it can be done, if at all, wud be to build brush and log dams high up among ther hills ter kape back ther big rocks and ther coarser stuff, and thin by ther mains of flumes to run ther sand and finer material out upon ther tule lands.”
An old rancher now made the remark that in early days he thought the miners, or at least a portion of them, were rather of a selfish nature, and were not disposed to pay much respect to the rights of anybody else but the miners.
“Why, in the opinion of many of them,” said he, “no man had any right to fence in or to cultivate a piece of ground.”
“A neighbor of mine in ’53, up in Placer County, had a fine garden; but it happened to be in the way of some miners who were at work above. They tore down the fence and covered ther garden with tailings, and refused to pay for any damages, maintaining thatthe country belonged exclusively to the miners, and no man had therefore any right to fence in or to use ground for any other purpose than for mining.”
Another old hydraulic miner now remarked that hydraulic mining did not cause all the injury to the lands and streams in the valleys below that it was supposed it did; for the discovery was made by a man up in the mining region, a very observing man, too, who testified upon the stand at Sacramento, during the trial between the miners and ranchers, that a portion of the injury to the farmers, as well as to the streams, was caused by the tramping of cattle among the hills in the mountain regions, an’ the heavy rains of winter washed this loose soil which their hoofs had loosened up into the valleys below, thereby causing much of the damage which has been heretofore attributed to mining. “Now,” he asked, “aint that a very ingenious, as well as a very reasonable view of the question and who can deny it?”
“Yis, indade, thin, it is a very raisonable view of ther question,” answered Mike, “which none of yez can deny at all: an’ be jabers thin, he might have included, too, that thim barnyard fowls also in scratchin’ for ther wurms to fade ther chicky-biddies, loosened up ther light sile, do yez moind, an’ ’tis ther jint operation ov these two moity forces, begorra, that not only kiver up an’ destroy the potato, an’ ther turnip patches of ther farmers, but ’tis thim which fill up ther navigable straims too, an’ unless previnted in toime, will destroy thim all, an’, be jabers, they will transform thim big bays below into shallow swarmps an’ frog ponds. An’ faith thin,” continued Mike, “I’m afther thinkin’ that ’tis ther jint operation ov these same tirific fowl an’ cloven hoofed forces, from havin’ been continualy in operation through long pariods of toime, do yez moind, that have scooped out thim dape cañons, an’ goughed out thim dape channels ov thim mountain straims, too, do yez see; which has been wrongfully attributed by all ov thim scientific b’ys, as an effect of volcanic an’ of glacial action, begorra.”
Jim now enquired of Mike, if the fact of their desire to work their mines was, in his opinion, an evidence that the miners were of a more selfish nature than any other class of men, or more inclined to encroach upon the rights of others? “No, indade, not at all!” Mike answered, “but ’tis only in ther opportunity that yez have of showing it thin, owing intoirly to ther conflict betwain ther two intherists, that is av ranching an’ minin’, for human nature is afther being ther same in both ov yez; an’ be jabers! if thim hydraulic miners was after changing places wid ther ranchers, do yez suppose ther latter wud be afther stopping ther minin’ business, for fear of injurin’ ther b’ys below, any quicker than ther prisent miners wud do? Divil a bit wud they be afther doin’ that same, for, indade, me by’s, we are all ov us afther being built of ther same material, an’ be jabers! ’tis our interests which detarmines ther view that we take ov things after all. An’ indade thin,” continued Mike, “I remember a case that occurred up in ther mountains in early days, that illustrates this p’int. A miner tore down the fence, an’ run his tailin’s upon the garden ov a neighbor, ah’ to hear this miner talk ov his rights when the gardner objected to the outrage, be jabers, yez wud jest be afther concludin that the great Jehovah made ther counthry ixpresly for ther miner, an’ that noboby else hed any business here at all, an’ that this stoyle ov man, ther miner, was the only one worth ther trouble av putting ther breath av life into at all! at all!
“Well now, do yez moind, it happened a few years afther that this same miner was afther tryin’ ther business of ranchin’ himself, an’ about ther same toime, too, this gardner sold out his ranch an’ followed ther business ov minin’ and, quare enough, he found a good prospect upon ther ranch ov ther other chap, an’ now be jabers! here was ther case jest after bein’ revarsed.
“It wud hev done yer sowl good to hear this ould rancher, who was now afther bein’ a miner, jest give it to ther ould miner who was now afther ranchin’, an’ he paid him off swately in his own kine, begorra! Well, afther quarrellin’ awhoile about ther rights of aich one, they finally was afther concludin’ that both of thim had certain rights, an’ if they were careful and aich one of thim to do ther fair thing, there wud be no throuble at all, at all, so ther miner agreed to do as little harrum as possible and fill up his diggings again.”
Jeff now inquired of Mike if he didn’t consider it a great injury to the country in general, but more especially to the working classes, shutting down the hydraulic mines, consequently taking such a large amount of money from our circulation?
“Ah, yis,” said Mike, “indade thin ’twud be a blessing to ther workin’ men of ther counthry to have that same in circulation among thim, if they was afther handling much of the same; but,me b’ys, I tell yez that ther workingmen of the counthry have but little opportunity av aither saing or handling much av ther same at ail, at all.”
“But,” queried another, “in the circulation of money each one gets his share, does he not?”
“So he ought, thin, if he was afther earning the same; but divil a bit is he afther doin’ anything ov ther koind, an’ for this raisin, me b’ys, that if that same was ther rule, why, ’tis plain enough, do yez moind, that ther more gould there was afther bein’ scattered about among us, ther greater quantity aich one av us wud be afther gittin’ hould ov, sure. But do yez moind, thin, it don’t wurruk that way at all, at all. It is not becase thim b’ys who hev scraped togither ther biggest share ov money are more selfish than any the rest ov thim, devil a bit, but, b’ys, ’tis in ther nature ov gould itself, which is afther follerin’ a law of its own, begob! an’ has a way ov scrapin’ itself in a hape into ther hands ov a few of ther b’ys, who have already more than they are afther having any use for. And ’tis for that raison, b’ys, that in me own opinion ’tis jest as well for that gould to remain in thim hills where it belongs, and kape it out of their hands.”
“Ah, Mike, but that’s a wrong idea you’ve got about money,” remarked Jeff. “Fifteen millions a year from the money circulation means poverty to many a poor family. Why, what would your little ranch be worth, with its grapevines and its peach trees, if we should all quit mining? Ain’t it us miners who give you a market for your stuff?”
“Oh, yis, me b’y, to some extint ’tis thrue that we depind on you miners to buy much ov our stuff, but not entoirly, thin, begorra! Ain’t it thrue ainough that as ther yaild from ther mines decreases other industries are containually improvin’ ther whoile in ther same proportion, be jabers? Indade, thin, to hear some of yez old miners talk, we’d be afther thinkin’ that if mining wud stop entoirely the earth itself wud stop revolving upon its axis thin, an’, be jabers, all human affairs, too, would jest be afther remaining stationary. But divil a bit wud sich a state of affairs occur at all, at all! Thim river mines and ther quartz ledges will continue to yaild sufficient gould for ther business of ther counthry for hundreds of years yit, without the necessity in me own opinion ov coverin’ up and destroyin’ ther property or ov fillin’ up ther straims below.”
“Oh, yes,” said the old hydraulic miner, “that is all very well, but what’s to become of all of us miners who are depending for our living upon the hydraulic mines, and how are we to support our families?”
“Be jabers, thin!” answered Mike, “yez can be afther doin’ what a hape ov other ould moiners have done, thin, who loike meself couldn’t make a dacent living at ther business, begorra; fince in thin a paice ov the sile, an’ plant into it thim grape vines, ther fruit trees, an’ ther loikes ov thim, an’ be jabers yez’ll be afther foindin in a short toime that ’tis ther best an’ ther aisiest way ov fightin the battle ov life; lyin’ in ambush for yer inimies among the grape vines an’ trees ov ther paich orchard, or skarmishin’ with distiny from behind a gardin fince, begorra! For do yez moind, thin, an’ ’aint ther taties, ther cabbages, ther fruit trees an’ ther loikes of thim, afther growin’ ther whoile whin yez are slapein. Now, me b’ys, jest be afther doin’ that same and yez niver’ll be sighin’ or gravin’ for ther loss ov thim hydraulic pipes that are ther whole toime throwin’ thim grand ould hills into ther vallies below, be jabers!
“And indade, thin, in obsarving ther immense power ov wather, the aise and ther great ripidity that yez have in washin’ away thim big hills from above, I have been afther thinkin’ to meself what a foine hand ther Prophet Mahomet wud be after houldin’ if he could only descind with his followers from ther heavenly regions above, an’ strike bottom up in the Sacramento valley.
“Wudn’t ther b’ys jest, with thim hydraulic giants, be moighty willin’ to accommodate ther auld gintlemen, whin he demanded one of thim big hills above to jest be afther comin’ down to him thin, an’ they wud sind it down to him by the aisiest an’ quickest mode of conveyance, be jabers; they wud ship it by wather, C. O. D., comin’ on demand, do yez moind, an’ begorra! wudn’t ther ould gintlemen jest be afther houldin’ a strait flush, thin, faith an’ he wud.”
MAHOMET HOLDS A FLUSH.
Why Are so Many of the Old-timers so Poor—The Uncertainty of Mining—Tex and Barton Lee—Tex and the Hound—Tex on Board the Steamer—Tex at Golgona.
Why Are so Many of the Old-timers so Poor—The Uncertainty of Mining—Tex and Barton Lee—Tex and the Hound—Tex on Board the Steamer—Tex at Golgona.
AN old rancher, a neighbor of Mike, who was present, now asked the question, why it was that so many of the old pioneers were so poor? for being here at the first, when the mines were so rich, the gold so easy to get, and all kinds of business so good, they should all be wealthy now.
“No! not all!” explained Mike. “It is thrue ainough that we old pioneers got ther crame ov it by being here first, but yez see we thought ’twas jest agoin’ to last ther whole toime, and that there could be no ind to it, do yez moind, so we spint our money frayly, for it come aisy, an’ went ther same way. Whin ther shallow placer mines begun to give out, an’ we could only make small wages, do yez see, thin ther b’ys commenced to tramp about among ther mountains to hunt for richer diggings, for after workin’ such rich claims at first, they were not contint to work for smaller wages, an’ ther most of thim spint their money in that way, do yez see, in thrampin’ about ther country prospecting for richer diggings.
“An’ thin, agin, the old Forty-niners are as a general rule better known and more prominent than any other class thin, an’ many ov thim being poor, yez are all afther concludin’ that we are all afther being that same. But do yez moind thin, me b’ys, I tell yez that there’s jest as great a proportion ov the old pioneers who have made their pile, an’ who have kept it, as yez’ll be afther findin’ among any other class ov min, be jabers. Tis thrue enough, me b’ys, that a very small proportion ov yez old pioneers who are at prisint livin’ in ther minin’ regions have saved enough to harrum yez, becase if yez had that same, yez wudn’t stay here at all, at all, but yez wud be afther strikin’ out for ther big cities below with the rest ov ther b’ys who made their pile in the minin’ ragions an’ wint down there to spindit, begorra. A great many of thim wint into business in ther big city an’ are in business yit, many ov them wint Aist an’ hundreds ov thim are now in business in the cities ov New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, an’ other places, an’ be jabers they are afther houldin their own, too, with ther best of ’em. Now, me b’ys, yez know that the greater portion of thim old pioneers are a long-lived race, an’ be jabers you’ll foind that they continue workin’ good pay ground as long as any other class of paple in ther world.
“For don’t yez know, b’ys, that no class ov min in any business continue to prosper only about so many years? A great many ov thim in early days spent their kine fraly in prospecting thim river beds, in building quartz mills, as well as in runnin’ long an’ expinsive tunnels in ther hills in sarching for thim ancient river beds, an’ be jabers! they wern’t afraid to spind their kine fraly to develop ther country for ther benefit ov all ov yez who was after follerin us to make their pile in ther country, do yez see, now? But the ould time prospectors are ther poorest ov the lot do yez moind, an’ ’tis for ther raison that they spind their toime thrampin’ about among ther mountains searching for a rich mine; an’ indade thin ’tis thrue enough that many ov thim do succade in foindin one of thim occasionally that was afther havin’ a fortune in it, but divil a bit can ther ould-timer work it at all, for, be gob, he has no kine to do that same. So ther poor divil, afther havin’ spint his toime in huntin’ for a mine, is obliged, do yez see, to spind more toime in huntin’ for some chap who has got ther kine to help him work it, or else to buy it, an’ he is finally obliged to sell it for jest what they plase to give him.
“This is soon spint, an’ thin he is afther commincin’ his endless thramp agin over mountains an’ through ther various minin’ ragions from Arizona up to ther Arctic ocean, to diskiver anither rich mine to sell in ther same style. ’Tis for this raison that yez ould prospectors are afther bein’ continually down on ther bed rock, be jabers! Oh, yis, ’tis thrue enough, as yez say, that yez have ther pleasure of thraveling over the counthry an’ of makin’ rich diskiveries for others to rape ther benefit ov, an’, indade, that is some satisfaction for yez, be gorra!”
Another one remarked that “Some of the reasons why many of the old-timers were at the present time so poor were that they acquired the habit of spending their money freely in early days, because it came easy and they thought that the rich mines would be more lasting. In my opinion, therefore, it is in the nature of the business, as placer mining was in early days, when wages were an ounce a day and when hundreds were making double, and even treble that amount daily; such conditions had the effect to destroy all habits or ideas of economy.”
“Yis, indade,” said Mike, “but ther great majority of yez niver larned the manin’ of ther tarm economy at all, at all. But ’twas not ther nature of ther business of minin’ entoirly that taught yez to spind yez money so fraely thin; but, be gorra, ’twas natural to ther most ov yez, an’ indade, thin, ’twas this fault that made yez ther Forty-niners, an’, be jabers, it saims to stick right by ther most of yez.”
“That reminds,” said Jeff, “of a remark I heard a Dutchman make once who kept a store up on Bear River in ’56. Says he, ‘I could always shust knows dem ’49 vellers ven dey was come into mine store, mit mine eyes all shut up.’ ‘I asked him why.’ ‘Vei, den, ven one of dose vellers comes in to buy sometings, he says, Old vellers, have you got some of dot stuff dot vas pooty goot? I says I was. Vell, den, he says, you shust fills up mine jug; So I fills up dot jug, and he pays me, und den he goes right away pooty soon.
“Vel, den, pooty quick some dose other vellers, he comes in mine store, und he says, “Jacob, has you got some dem tings?” ‘I speaks to him I vas. Vell, den, he dells me how I sells dem, and I speaks to him how mooch.’ “Vell,” he say, “couldn’t you sell dose a leetle more cheaper as dot.” ‘I speak to him no. Vell, den, he tells me shust to gives him drei pints, and put em in mit vour of dose bottles. Vell den he shust goes mit de corner round, and dakes up one of dem bottles under his nose, und pooty soon he speaks, “Jacob, von’t you shust fill up dot bottles vot leaked out?” ‘So I puts ’em in a leetle more, und den he pays me dem monies, und he goes right away mit dem bottles. Und dot vas vy I does, ain’t it?”
At this point in the conversation in regard to the present poverty of many of the old-timers, Jeff remarked.
“Well, Mike, ’tis true enough that the most of us old prospectors have failed in our expectations of making another raise at mining, or at any rate in being able to save what we have made in the past;yet ’tis some consolation for us to know that there was a time once when we were able to make a big splurge in the big city below when we made them a visit with our pockets filled with dust, and give the chaps down there to understand that we knew where there was a plenty more of the same sort of stuff when that was gone.”
“But divil a bit, thin,” retorted Mike, “is ther thought ov thim days ov plinty an big diggins any consolation to yez at all, at all, in yez ould age. Indade, thin, ther thoughts ov sich prosperity in ther past only makes our prisint poverty saim ther greater by the contrast, thin. For, begorra, ther ain’t a divil a one ov us but who’d be moity willin’ now in our ould age to swap off all ov thim years that we was afther splurgin down in thim cities below with our pockets filled with dust. Yis, indade, we wud swap all ov thim, an’ we wuldn’t be afther askin’ any boot aither, for just a few short years ov rest an’ quiet now in our ould age, fray from want an’ care, without bein’ obliged to be containualy thrampin’ about all over ther counthry tryin’ to make a dacent living.”
Tennessee remarked: “Well, Mike, after all the great uncertainty in the business of mining, yet there is a fascination about it that many of us cannot resist, for there is a continual expectation that we will soon strike the right spot.”
“Yis, indade, there is that same, thin, an’, be jabers, I was afther thinkin’ meself, in early days, that moinin’ was jist ther finest an’ the most facinatin’ business in ther wuorld; for do yez moind, thin, it made no difference how much we was afther makin’ on our claim. Whither ’twas one ounce or tin ov thim, we was always afther ixpictin’ that ther nixt day ’twud be double, do yez see. ’Twas these containual ixpictations, do yez moind, that made ther business so facinatin’, begorra! Whin at wurruk in ther ravine we was ivery day ixpictin’, do yez moind, that soon we wud be afther jist shovelin’ ther gould up by ther bucket full, as they did over in Georgetown gulch. An’ thin, again, we wud soon be after ixpictin’ to find a rich crivise, when we could take out ther gould by ther ton, as they did over in Alder gulch, Montanna, be jabers. Thin, agin, we was always jist ixpictin’ in our tunnel to sthrike a spot ov blue gravel, whin we wud take out ther gould by ther car load, as ther b’ys did from Forest Hill. Faith, thin, me b’ys, ’twas these containual ixpictations in early days that made ther business of minin’ so facinatin’, but thin ther containual disappintments that many ov us metwith destroys in toime ther facination av their business, an’ we are contint to thry to make a livin’ in some other manner an’ let thim b’ys who havn’t lost ther faith in ther business still continue it, in ther hope that some day yez’ll be afther sthrikin ther right spot, where yez’ll foind a fortune ready waitin’ for yez.”
Some one asked Mike what had become of his old partner, Pat Kennedy, whom he worked with on French Flat in ’54. Mike answered that Pat got hurt in a shaft up in Placer County in ’56, and died soon after. He stated that Pat and Uncle Tim Winn were at work sinking a shaft and that Tim let the bucket slip out of his hands, and down it went upon the top of Pat’s head.
“I had a talk with Uncle Tim about it,” said Mike, “an’ Tim says to me: ‘An’, indade, Mike, I was jist afther hookin’ on the tub to sind it down to Pat, an’ it slipped out ov me hands an’ down it wint, an’ I took a glance down the shaft thin, ixpictin’ to see Pat somewhere in the last stage ov a rapid decline, do yez moind, but divil a bit was he decloinin’ at all, for he was standin’ upon his fate an’ reclinin’ against the side ov the shaft. Says I: “Is it much harumed that yez are, Pat?” “Divil a bit am I at all, but me brains are all knocked out intoirly, and ’tis spaichless, too, that I am, Tim.”’”
“Say, Jeff,” says Tennessee, “do you remember Tex who worked with me in that gulch down in old Tuolumne? ’twas long in the spring of ’50.”
“Oh, yes,” answered Jeff, “that tall, good-looking, blue-eyed chap.”
“Well, when I was up in the Salmon River country in ’65, I heard some of the miners speaking about a chap they called Tex, who was said to be an old Forty-niner, and was at work in a cañon a few miles above. I jest felt that he might be my old pard that I hadn’t seen or heard of for ten or twelve years, so I found the trail to the cañon and went up to see him. Yes, sure enough, ’twas Tex; I knew him as soon as I come in sight of him. He had found a rich spot and lived like a king. He put me onto a good claim in the cañon above him, and I worked there for about a year and made quite a raise; but I found the winters too cold for me up there, so I sold out and left. I tell you but Tex was clear grit, though. You remember the time when Barton Lee of Sacramento City busted up and swindled so many of the boys out of their gold dust? Well,