When the news of the gold strike reached New York, Horace Greeley,
editor of the _Tribune_, sent a reporter, Bayard Taylor, to visit the
mining camps. Taylor, who later became a well-known poet and travel
writer, reached San Francisco by sea in August, 1849. On his way to the
diggings he passed through Stockton:
Our first visit to Stockton was made in company, on some of Major
Graham’s choicest horses. A mettled roan _canalo_ fell to my share,
and the gallop of five miles without check was most inspiring. A view
of Stockton was something to be remembered. There, in the heart of
California, where the last winter stood a solitary ranch in the midst
of tule marshes, I found a canvas town of a thousand inhabitants, and
a port with twenty-five vessels at anchor! The mingled noises of labor
around—the click of hammers and the grating of saws—the shouts of
mule-drivers—the jingling of spurs—the jar and jostle of wares in the
tents—almost cheated me into the belief that it was some old
commercial mart, familiar with such sounds for years past. Four
months, only, had sufficed to make the place what it was; and in that
time a wholesale firm established there (one out of a dozen) had done
business to the amount of $100,000. The same party had just purchased
a lot of eighty by one hundred feet, on the principal street, for
$6,000, and the cost of erecting a common one-story clapboard house on
it was $15,000.
He continued by mule from Stockton to the diggings on the Mokelumne
River, some forty miles away. He was lodged in an open-air hotel which
consisted of two log tables, one for eating, the other for gambling. The
morning after arriving he inspected the mining operations:
I slept soundly that night on the dining-table, and went down early to
the river, where I found the party of ten bailing out the water which
had leaked into the riverbed during the night. They were standing in
the sun, and had two hours’ hard work before they could begin to wash.
Again the prospect looked uninviting, but when I went there again
towards noon, one of them was scraping up the sand from the bed with
his knife, and throwing it into a basin, the bottom of which glittered
with gold. Every knifeful brought out a quantity of grains and scales,
some of which were as large as the fingernail. At last a two-ounce
lump fell plump into the pan, and the diggers, now in the best
possible humor, went on with their work with great alacrity. Their
forenoon’s digging amounted to nearly six pounds [_an ounce of gold in
California was then worth exactly $16.00_]. It is only by such
operations as these, through associated labor, that great profits are
to be made in those districts which have been visited by the first
eager horde of gold-hunters. The deposits most easily reached are soon
exhausted by the crowd, and the labor required to carry on further
work successfully deters single individuals from attempting it. Those
who, retaining their health, return home disappointed say they have
been humbugged about the gold, when in fact they have humbugged
themselves about the work. If anyone expects to dig treasures out of
the earth, in California, without severe labor, he is woefully
mistaken. Of all classes of men, those who pave streets and quarry
limestone are best adapted for gold-diggers.
One of the principal mining operators at the Mokelumne River site, Dr.
Gillette, told Taylor how he and a companion struck it rich in a
particular gulch nearby:
One day at noon, while resting in the shade of a tree, Dr. G. took a
pick and began carelessly turning up the ground. Almost on the
surface, he struck and threw out a lump of gold of about two pounds’
weight. Inspired by this unexpected result, they both went to work,
laboring all that day and the next, and even using part of the night
to quarry out the heavy pieces of rock. At the end of the second day
they went to the village on the Upper Bar and weighed their profits,
which amounted to fourteen pounds! They started again the third
morning under pretense of hunting, but were suspected and followed by
the other diggers, who came upon them just as they commenced work. The
news rapidly spread, and there was soon a large number of men on the
spot, some of whom obtained several pounds per day, at the start. The
gulch had been well dug up for the large lumps, but there was still
great wealth in the earth and sand, and several operators only waited
for the wet season to work it in a systematic manner.
The next day Colonel Lyons, Dr. Gillette, and myself set out on a
visit to the scene of these rich discoveries. Climbing up the rocky
bottom of the gulch, as by a staircase, for four miles, we found
nearly every part of it dug up and turned over by the picks of the
miners. Deep holes, sunk between the solid strata or into the
precipitous sides of the mountains, showed where veins of the metal
had been struck and followed as long as they yielded lumps large
enough to pay for the labor. The loose earth, which they had
excavated, was full of fine gold, and only needed washing out. A
number of Sonorians were engaged in dry-washing this refuse sand—work
which requires no little skill, and would soon kill any other men than
these lank and skinny Arabs of the West. Their mode of work is as
follows: Gathering the loose dry sand in bowls, they raise it to their
heads and slowly pour it upon a blanket spread at their feet.
Repeating this several times, and throwing out the worthless pieces of
rock, they reduce the dust to about half its bulk; then, balancing the
bowl on one hand, by a quick, dexterous motion of the other they cause
it to revolve, at the same time throwing its contents into the air and
catching them as they fall. In this manner everything is finally
winnowed away except the heavier grains of sand mixed with gold, which
is carefully separated by the breath. It is a laborious occupation,
and one which, fortunately, the American diggers have not attempted.
This breathing the fine dust from day to day, under a more than torrid
sun, would soon impair the strongest lungs.
We found many persons at work in the higher part of the gulch,
searching for veins and pockets of gold, in the holes which had
already produced their first harvest. Some of these gleaners,
following the lodes abandoned by others as exhausted, into the sides
of the mountain, were well repaid for their perseverance. Others,
again, had been working for days without finding anything. Those who
understood the business obtained from one to four ounces daily. Their
only tools were the crowbar, pick, and knife, and many of them,
following the veins under strata of rock which lay deep below the
surface, were obliged to work while lying flat on their backs, in
cramped and narrow holes.