MINING ON THE YUBA RIVER
Some time after we had cut the hay I met Mr. Damon, my partner, when he
said that he had concluded to go to his home in the East for a short
stay, and he would return probably as early as the next winter or
spring. He desired me to sell the hay before the rainy season should set
in and retain his part of the proceeds until his return. I proposed to
send his share of whatever I should receive for the hay to him in the
East, but he said that it would be his wish that I would keep it until
his return.
One object I had in view when I left Nelson’s Creek was to attend to
selling the hay. While it would be some time before the rainy season
would set it, there was danger from fire. Everything in the valley was
as dry as tinder, and the hay was on the open plain where people were
passing back and forth to the mines and cities.
I concluded to make an effort to dispose of it. This was some time near
the end of September. I traveled from the Pelham camp to the place where
we cut and stacked the hay and found it to be safe.
I sold a small part of it to some one, and then went to Marysville. I
there managed to dispose of the balance on condition that the purchaser
should do the teaming, but that I should assist in the loading. The
distance it was to be drawn was 12 or 15 miles. As it would require
several days to do the teaming, and as there was no convenient place
near by where I could procure board, I concluded to board myself and
sleep on the hay. So I filled a half barrel with water, procured a
quantity of salt pork and other provisions, which I hired drawn to the
haystack.
I remained at that place and assisted the teamster in loading the hay,
otherwise I had no company with the exception of coyotes, of which there
were plenty.
These little animals of the wolf species were very numerous at this
time. They were not dangerous, but were mischievous. They were small in
size but they could make a great amount of noise. About the time it was
becoming dark every evening they would begin their howling. First, the
voice of one would be heard in some direction, which would seem to be
answered by another in another quarter, and then another and another
would follow, until there would appear to be a perfect chorus of voices,
howling and barking.
I had heretofore learned to keep completely out of their way as much as
was possible everything that I had that they would care to eat. However,
they soon found my quarters, and I would hear them in the night all
about near where I was lying. At first I took little notice of them. One
night I was awakened by more noise and disturbance than was usual, when
I arose to see what they were doing.
The moon shone brightly and I could see them in large numbers around and
very near me. I made an effort to drive them away but they would scamper
for a short distance only, when they would stand and look at me.
Upon making an investigation I found they had drawn my pork away a
considerable distance into the grass. It was in a sack and had been
almost under my head. They had also taken almost everything else that
they could find. I took the sack of pork and some of the other most
tempting articles I had to the top of the stack of hay, and after making
a hole in the pile and burying them about two feet deep, I made my bed
directly over them. In this way I succeeded in preserving them from the
coyotes.
The next morning I discovered that they had carried away almost
everything I had about the camp. They had dragged away to a considerable
distance a brand new rope, about 30 feet in length. A new tin pint
drinking dipper, a tin spoon, and other articles I found scattered about
in various directions, and they had even invaded my water cask and taken
the bung out.
I don’t now remember at what price I sold the hay, but believe it was
between $40 and $50 a ton, so we made a very fair job in cutting it.
Between the time of the disposal of the hay and the time of the setting
in of the rainy season, I cannot at this time give any detailed account
of my work.
Some time during the season, and I believe it was during this time, I
cut some more wood near Yuba City. At that time the steamboat company
did not wish to buy any green wood, but they said if we should cut some
and have it drawn out and piled on the bank of the river they would need
it after it had become seasoned. Some one, Worcester Gage of Pelham, as
I remember, cut with me. We cut quite a quantity and had it piled on the
river bank below Yuba City, near an Indian village.
About this time the cholera was raging among these Indians to a fearful
extent, and many of them died of the disease. It was their custom to
cremate their dead bodies, which they did by placing them on a pile of
wood and burning it. The flesh was burned, but the bones would remain
unconsumed, which they would gather up and deposit in a small hole in
the ground, dug for that purpose. When these bodies were being consumed
it created a very sickening odor. After the wood became seasoned it was
very convenient for these Indians to use for their domestic purposes,
and they carried away considerable quantities of it.
I once tried to frighten them, telling them that I would shoot the first
one that I should find in the act of removing any of the wood. It seemed
to me that there was not so much removed afterwards. Before the wood was
sold Mr. Gage went home to Pelham and left his share of the wood with me
to be disposed of and to forward to him his share of the proceeds. I
afterwards sold it and sent him his share of the money.
Some time during the fall, after I had sold the hay, I was traveling up
the road going toward Bidwell’s, when I heard a horse coming behind me,
and on looking back I saw some one riding toward me horseback that I
soon recognized as my friend Mr. Damon, though I had supposed he was in
the states. He soon overtook me and said he had been no farther than San
Francisco, where he had remained for some time, and had concluded to
return and not go East at present. On his reaching Marysville he had
learned that I had started for Feather River mines, and he came on after
me. I was not expecting him for several months and had made no plans to
pay him his share for the hay, but presumed of course that he would like
his money. I believe I was owing him something more than $400.
I explained to him the situation, and said that probably I did not have
enough with me to settle with him in full. He said he had anticipated
that situation and that I could pay him as much as I could conveniently
spare, or if I could not spare him any at that time it would be just as
well. After we had calculated the amount due him from me, we went into
one of the cloth hotels by the roadside near by and weighed out the
amount in gold dust that was his due, and which exhausted almost the
whole amount I had with me. He almost absolutely refused to take it
_all_ at that time, but I insisted and he did so. As he was then present
I desired to have the matter fully settled.
We then parted and he went toward Marysville, while I continued my
journey toward Feather River mines. I have no remembrance of ever
meeting Mr. Damon afterwards. He was a good man.
One incident that transpired during the spring of 1850 while I was in
the mines of Feather River: Several of us were camped there at the time,
one of whom was a man from some town in New Hampshire who crossed the
plains in company with us, and whose name as I now remember it, was
Watkins. He and I were taken at about the same time with a similar
illness, and one was substantially as ill as the other. I didn’t
apprehend that either of us was dangerously ill. Mr. Watkins soon lost
his courage and began to talk that the should never again meet his
friends at home. I endeavored to encourage him to the best of my
ability, but it seemed to have no beneficial effect whatever.
Soon after I began to improve, but he grew worse constantly and became
more despondent. We had a tent to camp in, but as it was previous to the
end of the rainy season, there was yet some damp, cold, stormy weather,
and it was cold in the tent.
That he might be made as comfortable as was possible, I constructed a
stone fireplace at the end of the tent and built a stone chimney to a
point a little higher than the ridge of the tent. This made it possible
to keep a fire so as to warm the tent and keep it dry and comfortable,
and it operated quite satisfactorily. Mr. Watkins seemed to be very well
pleased with the arrangements, but did not improve. I nursed him to the
best of my ability, but he steadily declined, and a few days later he
died.
We opened a grave in a convenient place, wound his blankets about him,
and buried him, which was all we could do for him. Poor Watkins! He had
gone to his home, but not to the home that seemed to be uppermost in his
mind.
One day in the fall of 1850, when I was in Marysville, there was an
auction at which horses were being sold. A very thin, rundown horse was
offered and as nobody made a bid, I started it at a small amount, and as
no one raised the bid, it was knocked down to me. After making a little
inquiry I learned that a man keeping a ranch a few miles out, took
horses to herd. I took the horse out there and engaged him to keep it
until I should call for it.
Some time in November, about the time the rainy season set in, I one
day met George Carlton at Marysville. He inquired what my plans for the
winter were. I had made no definite plans for the future. He suggested
that we go up on the Yuba, as I remember it was to Park’s Bar, possibly
it was Long’s Bar, and work with him during the rainy season at mining.
I consented to go with him. At this time I believe the Pelham company
had broken up and scattered. A few of the number had gone home or did so
soon after, and the others were at different places. The company had
made some money, but their mining claim did not yield anything near the
amount of gold that was expected of it.
Previous to this time I had met James M. Butler in Marysville on his way
to San Francisco and then to go home. I sent by him to my brother Moses
at Pelham 18¾ ounces of gold dust, which at $16 per ounce, the
California price, was worth $300. This was to pay the money borrowed to
pay the expenses to California in 1849. Mr. Butler went home by the way
of Mexico and had a hard journey. He arrived home in January.
Mr. Carlton and I went up the Yuba River and made a camp. I made a small
quicksilver machine for washing gold. It was of my own invention and I
had made one of the same kind before. It was made watertight, and when
working it the back end was set lower than the front end. The
quicksilver was worked in the rear end, and that end being the lowest
part of the machine, the quicksilver would remain there. When the gold
touched the quicksilver it would amalgamate and be held there, while the
gravel would be washed away and pass out at the other end of the
machine. It operated very satisfactorily.
The mines were not very rich at this place, but in good weather we could
each make from $8 to $12 dollars a day, and some days considerably more.
One advantage here over many other places was that the water did not
give us so much trouble, as the bar was larger and higher than many
others. The rainy season was not nearly so severe as was that of the
year previous. We could also procure better provisions. All eatables
were high, and that was to be expected, but they were of a very fair
quality. We could procure plenty of either Irish or sweet potatoes,
produced, I believe, at the Sandwich Islands.
Mr. Carlton cooked the meat and potatoes and I made and baked the bread
and washed the dishes. We passed a very comfortable winter.
At this place were two brothers by the name of Davis from Nashua, N. H.
The given name of the elder one I believe was Josiah. If I remember
correctly they both lived to return home, but both died not very long
after. Josiah died first. The younger one was not more than seventeen or
eighteen years of age at that time, but he was very active and smart.
They kept a store in quite a large cloth building very near our camp.
An elderly man from eastern Tennessee slept in the building. He was a
blacksmith and was probably a man who never accumulated very much
property during his life before he came to California. He owned a little
forge with a kit of tools and did jobs for the miners, for which he
received good pay, and he had accumulated already between $2,000 and
$3,000, all of which was in gold dust and which he constantly kept
secreted on the ground under his blankets where he laid. He was very
jolly and happy and probably then had more money than he ever
anticipated having.
Within the same building lodged a man from Virginia, a miner, a tall,
spare man, always good-natured, but somewhat taciturn or reserved, and
appeared to be an honest man, one which almost any one would not
hesitate to trust. The Davis brothers, and some others, also slept in
the same building.
I was very friendly with the Davis brothers, who by the way, were
brothers of the late S. S. Davis of Nashua. I was in the building quite
often when I was not at work.
One day Mr. Blacksmith came running from the building about breakfast
time, almost insane with excitement. Upon making inquiry as to the cause
of his grief he said some one had stolen all his purse of gold. At first
it was thought he had probably mislaid it, and that it would be found
where he had put it.
An investigation was made at once, after which all present were
satisfied that a theft had been committed by some one, but who the
guilty party was no one could seem to determine.
The first thing to be done was to make a thorough search of every person
known to have been in the building that morning. That was done, and as I
had been into the place, I was searched with the others, but the search
revealed nothing.
There was a man there of rather eccentric character, who was also mining
on the bar. He made quite
[Illustration:
From an Old Print.
VIGILANTES IN ’49.]
numerous inquiries, during which it was brought out that the Virginia
man went to the river quite early that morning for a pail of water.
After leaving the route he took, the eccentric man took the trail and
followed it to near the river, where he discovered some traces or tracks
leading from the trail a short distance to a place where the sand had
been disturbed, as appeared, with some one’s hands.
He didn’t disturb it or even go to the place, but immediately returned
and made report of his discovery. A party soon after went with him, and
digging away the sand at the spot of the disturbance, the blacksmith’s
bag of gold was revealed.
It was carried to the camp and Mr. Blacksmith was asked to identify his
bag of gold, which he had lost. This was before he knew there was any
prospect of ever recovering it. This he readily did, and when it was
placed in his hands he was as happy a man as I ever saw. He was so
overjoyed that he wanted to give one-half of it to those that found it.
However, the incident so shocked him that he concluded to return
immediately to his home in Tennessee, where he had a daughter. Soon
after he left for home.
The evidence against the Virginian seemed to be quite conclusive. He was
the only person known to have pursued that trail to the river that
morning, and the footprints in the sand agreed very perfectly with his
boots. “Judge Lynch” was soon summoned to hold a court. The court was
organized and the Virginian was arraigned. The evidence was very
damaging, but was circumstantial and not entirely positive, every one
present and hearing the evidence seemed to believe him to be the guilty
party. The verdict of the court was to the effect: That he was probably
guilty of committing the robbery, but as there was room for a little
doubt, he was entitled to that doubt. He was not sentenced to be
executed at once, provided he would leave the bar immediately,
otherwise, he must suffer the penalty. He immediately left and I never
again saw or heard of him.
We remained at that place until near the end of March, 1851. I believe I
enjoyed our stay here better than any other time of the same length
during my time in California. My health was fairly good; we made average
pay, and had good company.
About this time we concluded to go to San Francisco, where neither of us
had yet been.
Mr. Carlton had been talking continually about going to farming in some
of the coast valleys, which at that time seemed to be paying good
returns. We started for Marysville.
At that time the Yuba River was quite high, swollen by recent rains, and
we were obliged to make the crossing at a ferry. At the place of the
ferry the current was rapid and strong, and immediately below were falls
or rapids, full of immense boulders.
The ferry boat was a large one, made for the purpose of carrying teams,
mules and horses, as well as foot passengers. It was held at its place
and guided across the river by a large rope made fast over the river. At
this high stage of water only foot passengers were ferried over. The
rope was a large one, but I noticed that it was quite old and
considerably worn.
There were several fellow passengers with us in crossing. As soon as we
were fairly in the stream I noticed there was a heavy strain on the
rope, and it seemed to me it was liable to part at any second. I looked
at the whirling, boiling stream below, that I might, if possible, make
some consistent attempt to save myself in case the rope should part and
we should go over the rapids.
I could see no possibility of escape for any one aboard in that event. I
uttered not a word until we had landed safely on the opposite shore,
when I made the inquiry of the ferryman if he considered the rope used
to be safe for the purpose at that stage of water. He said he believed
it to be perfectly safe. I told him I could not be hired at any price to
recross the stream again under like conditions, as I did not consider
the rope safe.
I afterwards learned that on the following day, while thirteen men were
crossing in the same boat, the rope parted and every one of the men,
including the ferryman, were drowned.
We went to Marysville, and I continued on to the ranch where I had left
the horse the fall previous. Upon inquiring for my horse of the
proprietor, he went out to the range and returned with a sleek, fat
black horse that did not seem to resemble in any way the one I had left
there, except in color. At first I could not believe it to be the same
animal, but I accepted his word, and after settling for its keeping, I
rode it away. It was a very handsome horse. As Mr. Carlton also owned a
horse we rode down the valley on horse back to Sacramento City, where we
left our horses and took a steamer for San Francisco.
At that time there were as many as three quite large steamers constantly
running between Sacramento and San Francisco. One company was running
the “Senator” and “New World,” both of which I believe formerly were run
between Boston and Bangor, and had been taken around Cape Horn to San
Francisco. The other was the Hartford, a slower and older boat. The fare
I don’t remember, but it was not so much on the Hartford as on either of
the other two boats. We took passage on the Hartford.
This was near the time that the excitement in regard to the Vigilance
Committee was at its height. Several persons had been tried and executed
in San Francisco, and considerable excitement existed there. The civil
law had taken the place of lynch law, and had been in operation several
months.
Murders, robberies and other crimes were of almost every-day occurrence.
The courts had failed in most cases to make convictions, and the
criminals, especially in such cases where they possessed a considerable
amount of wealth, went free and unpunished. Life or property had become
very unsafe almost anywhere. The Vigilance Committee soon caused a far
different and a much better state of affairs. Many were the cases in
which the evidence against the prisoner would seem conclusive, but the
verdict would be “not guilty.” The prisoner would be immediately seized,
taken to the rooms of the committee and there tried and convicted and
executed, and all within the space of a short time after he had been
cleared by the court.
Several such cases took place while we remained in San Francisco, which
was several days.
We went out to the old Mission Dolores, and to what has been later
called Seal Rocks. We continued our journey down the valley and made
some investigation in regard to lands for farming purposes. We learned
that all those lands were claimed under old Spanish or Mexican grants,
which at that time had not been settled or adjusted by the United States
government, consequenty we abandoned the scheme of farming and returned
to Marysville.
We soon after parted and I have no remembrance of ever meeting Mr.
Carlton after that time. He never returned to his home in New Hampshire,
but died in California a few years later.