The next two decades were of increasing prosperity, thanks to the
efforts of Trolius Stephens and Nathaniel Bell. Not only was there
greater mining activity but new businesses were opened. The Ancheta
Trading Post had been bought by Bell and Stephens and enlarged into a
general merchandise store which handled everything from hair pins to
machinery. They subsidized a drug store, a barber shop, and a meat
market which had its own slaughter house. Other merchants opened
clothing stores—general and “for men only.” The town boasted a band, a
baseball team, and a Turkish Bath. Two new hotels were built—The Palmer
House and the Pacific. New and larger homes were erected, more orchards
planted. Trees, many of them maples, were planted along the streets.
Because animals roamed into town, each tree was enclosed to the height
of five or six feet. More saloons and gambling halls were added until
they numbered fourteen. There was no “red light” district but “fancy
ladies” came up from Silver City every pay day and two houses were their
headquarters. Whenever a Mexican family could serve enchiladas a lantern
would be hung outside. Mrs. Handy’s lantern would be out every Saturday
night. Her enchiladas were considered the best made any where and her
Arbuckle coffee was ambrosia.
So great was the influx of new arrivals during the ’80’s and ’90’s that
two stages—and sometimes more, made regular round trips to Silver City
to carry passengers and mail.
Chinese had been among the early settlers and they lived in dug-outs
along the gulches. They foresaw that cooking for the miners and washing
for them would be more profitable than placering so they discarded their
gold pans for dish pans and wash tubs. Many stayed for years operating
eating houses, laundries, and hop joints. See Hop was a general
favorite. He loved children and was always ready to “baby-sit”. No baby
was born but See Hop went to see it, bearing a gift. On the Chinese New
Year he would distribute Chinese candy and lichee nuts to the children
and Chinese lily bulbs to the mothers. He had a wife and children in
China and his ambition was to make a fortune and return to them. He lost
his first savings in the failure of a Silver City bank so would not
trust his money to a bank again. He hid it in his house and was robbed.
Later, in Santa Rita, trusting neither house nor bank, he buried it and
a flood washed it away. Again he started saving and when he had enough
for passage he went home to China—an old man. While he was in Pinos
Altos he decided that he would like to give up his laundry and go into
the chicken business. W. E. Watson bought the chickens to start him. All
went well for a time then the chickens began to die. Nothing he did
changed the situation. Papers with Chinese characters on them were
posted on all gates and doors. The chickens continued to die. A Mexican
came by and asked about the papers. See Hop told him they were notices
to the evil spirits. The visitor laughed and told him to put crosses on
every high point where they could be seen because the devils here could
not read Chinese. Still, no desired results. In despair See Hop went to
the one who had bought the stock in the first place and said, “You write
letters to the bad spirits in English. Say they belong to Billy Watson.
They do not know Chinese and they do not understand crosses. You tell
them.”
With so many animals needed for power and transportation corrals were
built at the edge of town. “Bob” wire had not come into use but there
was plenty of bailing wire—“one of the two good things,” the Indians
said, “that the White Man brought into the country.” Juniper posts in an
upright position were set into the ground as closely as possible and
wired together at the top. There were miles of such fences to enclose
the oxen and burro trains. There were livery stables, carpentry shops,
planing mills, dance halls, and from the very beginning, the necessary
blacksmith shops. “The Pinos Altos Miner” made its appearance on July
11, 1888, with Mr. John C. Bayne (grandfather of Clarence Bayne of
Silver City) as editor. Mr. Bayne had been attracted by reports of the
mining activity and came expecting to mine, but having been a newspaper
man he could not resist the appeal for a local paper. It was published
for several years. Later “The Pinos Altos,” a strictly local and mining
journal, of which Galloway and Warner were the proprietors, was
published.
Mr. George D. Lincoln left Silver City to open a law office in Pinos
Altos. One of his clients was a man known only as “Adobe Bill”. He had a
Mexican wife and several children. Being unable to pay the lawyer’s fee
in gold or cash, he gave his two sons to Mr. Lincoln who refused to
accept them as payment. One day the sheriff came looking for “Dobe
Bill”, and everyone thought the law had caught up with the man, but it
turned out that he was William Ferris and he had inherited a large sum
of money. “Dobe” sweated years of accumulated grime out in a Turkish
bath, had a shave and a hair-cut, bought himself the loudest suit to be
obtained, deserted his family, and departed.
Many nationalities were represented, and until the ’80’s they mingled
freely. When Bell and Stephens advertised for “hard rock” miners, a
Cornishman told Mr. Stephens he knew a good man, his “Cousin Jack in the
Old Country”. “Send for him,” Mr. Stephens said. Cousin Jack came and he
had a “Cousin Jack.” Soon the “Cousin Jacks” were flocking in. It was
natural that they should get together. They built their homes up the
hill to the southwest of town—seven or eight houses clustered about a
large rooming and boarding house run by Mr. and Mrs. Noah Climo. People
down town referred to it as “Cornishtown”. The Italians formed their
group and selected a site to the west. It was known as Italian Town. The
newer Mexicans were allowed to build only on the outskirts. They choose
the Continental Divide and the ridge to the east of town where they had
hand-ball courts and cock pits. No longer did the groups meet socially.
The Mexicans had their bailes and fiestas, from which, unless he was
there by special invitation, a “white man” was thrown out. The American
group included all not Spanish-speaking. They had their balls in the new
hotels, whist and sewing clubs, dramatic society, and lodges. Saturday
night was “sluff” night at many saloons, and men who did not frequent
saloons at other times enjoyed their weekly games. There were horseback
rides, taffy pulls, tea parties, and picnics. Ladies of long residence,
dressed in their best, raised their parasols and called on newcomers.
Life, if not exciting by today’s standards, was very pleasant. On summer
evenings parents sat rocking contentedly on the front porches with their
daughters wistfully sitting on the steps listening to calls of “Lie low”
and “Run, Sheep, Run” from the boys in all parts of town. In the winter
they sat around sheet iron stoves, mending or reading, while the
children did their home work around the dining room table.
Nathaniel Bell went to Wisconsin and married the girl he had left there
years before. Red-haired Sue Bell was a welcomed addition to the town.
She was friendly and had a knack of starting things and seeing them
through—the first community Christmas tree, for example. Mr. Bell had
lost a considerable sum in the first bank failure, and although he was
distrustful, he deposited money in the second bank. When it, too, closed
its doors, Mrs. Bell said, “The money is yours. Go and get it for I’m
sure the bank president has it in his home. I’ll be standing by.” Bell
went and was told by the wife that the president was ill and could see
no one. Bell said, “I have come to see him and to get my money. Either
he comes out or I go in.” The bank president came out, took one look at
big Nat Bell, went to a wall safe and took out $10,000. Bell and
Stephens were the only operators that met their payroll that month. But
he was through with local banks. Thereafter he buried his money, keeping
a record on the jamb of a pantry door. One day the storekeeper saw a
Mexican, who was digging around the fruit trees in the yard, lean over
and pick up something. He looked around, dropped his hoe and took off.
The storekeeper leaped over the counter, called to a clerk that he was
leaving, and sprinted after the man, overtaking him in an alley. The
Mexican handed over his find—a large tomato can that had been opened
with a butcher knife and the points pushed together again. It was filled
with coins and a sticky mass, indicating that it had been in the ground
through many storms. With a warm iron and blotting paper, Mrs. Bell was
able to distinguish green backs. She sent the mass to Washington and
received more than two thousand dollars in new bills. Mr. Bell had made
no record but he was able to recall the circumstances. The day he
collected the money no one was home, he could find no other can, so he
buried it hurriedly, thinking he would find a better container, then had
been called away. The incident made him think that perhaps he had failed
to record other deposits so Mrs. Bell superintended the digging up of
the entire place. Two more cans were found but of the baking powder
variety. That started everyone digging for buried treasure and some was
found.
George H. Utter, before he engaged in mining, sold Singer Sewing
Machines. He drove about the county in a buckboard with a machine for
demonstrations tied behind the seat. He came to a Mexican ranch on
Whiskey Creek just east of Rocky Point the day after the rancher had
found a can of gold. He had invited several of his friends to help him
celebrate and they were making merry when Mr. Utter drove up. The women
“Ohed and Ahed” over the latest model. The man showed the gold to Utter
and ordered a new machine for every woman present.
Edward Dehaney was a very likeable young man but described as “not worth
$1.25 from the neck down.” His worth was from the neck up as he proved
later in his career. While he was in Pinos Altos he was practically
penniless but full of schemes. The Bells took him into their home and
boarded him for several months with the understanding that he pay when
he could. Mrs. Bell knew he was receiving money but he never paid a cent
and left town without doing so. Mrs. Bell collected years later. When
she visited him in his pretentious offices in California and presented
her bill he said, “But, Mrs. Bell, this is outlawed—and you, being a
lady, would not presume to collect an outlawed bill.” Mrs. Bell replied,
“I know the bill is outlawed, but you, being a gentleman, will surely
honor it.” His check went to a home for old miners.
When the first son was born to the Bells he was given the family name of
“Golden” and his father had a bell made of local gold which Golden wore
on a chain around his neck until he reached school age. A gold brick
from a run of the mill was kept on a counter in the store. The early
miners used gold as a medium of exchange as long as they lived. It was
usually carried in a small Bromo Seltzer bottle in a pocket and a man
could estimate accurately the amount for his daily needs. As he grew
older, if he needed 60 cents for coffee and tobacco he washed out that
amount, if he needed $4.50 for overalls, blouse, flour, sugar and meat,
he panned that amount, then sat in the sun. Goods were no longer paid
for by the “finger” for the gold was carefully weighed. Should the
amount of gold be a little more than the bill, candy would be taken home
for the children. If it fell short a tab was made and dropped into the
till. Rarely was it necessary, and always when the man came back to make
another purchase, he would have extra gold so the tab against him could
be destroyed. In those days there were no pennies and very few dollar
bills in circulation. All costs were figured in multiples of five and
reduction in price was given if items were bought in quantity. Men who
worked for wages settled accounts on pay day and went home with a
generous sack of candy. Store hours were from seven to seven. Usually
there was a dull period in the afternoons which the clerks used to put
up beans, rice, and sugar, etc., in 25c and 50c amounts, folding and
tying the sacks for the evening rush. Saturday was clean-up night when
the delivery boys, clerks, and handy men would take off their shoes and
socks, roll up their pantaloons, and with brooms, mops and buckets of
hot soapy water, scrub counters and floors. The Bell and Stephens store
was the largest but it was a company store. Smaller companies and
independent operators wanted other stores. Neffe had a store at the
corner of Main Street and Gold Avenue—later the F. J. Davidson store.
Men who worked at the Mountain Key and at the Golden Giant traded there,
and later the Mammoth people. The building which housed George Norton’s
store is still standing, south of the Buckhorn Bar. Both buildings are
relics of the ’70’s.
Many men like Jim Hill and his brother had taken up homesteads on the
Upper Gila and along the Sapello. They traded in Pinos Altos and drove
their cattle through town to the stock yards below Silver City.
Merchants waited six months or a year for those accounts to be settled
but they always were. One rancher, in for supplies, would take out
coffee, tobacco and mail to all along his way. Newspapers, no matter how
old, and magazines were always welcomed in the remote areas. Each
merchant had a collection box for them. The corrals at the stores were
open to the ranchers and often they were filled with pack animals.
Trappers and government hunters also camped in the corrals. Ben Lilly
and Nat Straw were regular visitors and once in a great while “Bear”
Moore would come to town. Moore had lived in a cabin at the mouth of Big
Cherry before he moved to the West Fork. He had been badly mauled and
disfigured as a result of an encounter with a bear and had withdrawn
from contacts with his fellow men as much as possible. As he told his
story, he had killed a half-grown cub in a rocky canyon when the mother
appeared around a bend. Moore’s gum jammed and the bear was upon him. He
fought with sticks, stones and his bare hands, unable to escape. When he
regained consciousness the dead bear was lying beside him and Moore was
torn to pieces, a jaw bone and part of his breast were gone. Looking
down at the gaping hole he said that he could see his heart beating.
That he was able to crawl to camp and receive help was miraculous. His
last years were spent prospecting in the headwaters of the Gila country
and it was rumored that he made a rich find. When his last camp was
found Moore had been dead for some time. A handful of beans, the remains
of a shank of venison, a canvas bag containing worthless rock was all
that was found. The old hermit had died of starvation and exposure.
The Hearst Company renovated the store with paper and paint, arranging
the stock into departments, as drug, dry-goods, hardware, etc. A large
sheet iron warehouse was added for rails and other mining equipment.
Also erected was an office building, a mess for office and store
employees, and new homes for their foremen. The Bell and Stephens duplex
was remodeled for the Thayer and Risque families. Altogether the old
town had a new look. Stephens, before he would sign the sale papers, had
insisted that “his people” be given consideration and cared for, and the
Hearst Company carried out this policy. “Chan” Derbyshire was promoted
to be store manager and promising local boys were changed from common
laborers to store clerks—Tom Hall and Fernando Chavez were two of them.
Will Rivers and George Turner came from Silver City to take positions.
Among the men who were brought in were Harry Thorne, assayer and Mike
Riney, master mechanic.
When Bell and Stephens had announced the sale of their property to the
Hearst Interests there was great excitement. The Hearsts represented
money and money could do great things, but at the same time, they were
sorry to see the Bell and Stephens families depart. The property had
been turned over when Mr. Daniel B. Jillette, Jr., representing the
Hearst Interests, presented Mrs. Bell a farewell gift, the last ingot
from the Bell and Stephens Mill. This gold has been used only for
wedding rings and from the amount remaining today it will furnish
wedding rings to the Bell family for many, many generations.