THE KANAKAS--THE DRY DIGGIN’S DESERTED--ADMISSION OF THE
STATE--SCARCITY OF READING MATTER--THE COST OF LETTER POSTAGE--THE
INGENIOUS BARTENDER--PRICES OF DRINKS--CELEBRATING THE FOURTH OF
JULY--HARD CHARACTERS.
[Illustration: KANAKAS MINING ON THE RIVER.]
Early in the Spring of ’50, a number of Kanakas from the Sandwich
Islands came up into the mines; but being of an amphibious nature, they
concluded to prospect the bed of the South Fork of the American River.
They found a depression in the bed of this river some fifty yards
in length and about fifteen feet deep. After a little prospecting,
they concluded that there was enough gold in that cavity to satisfy
them, and they proceeded to work the same in the most primitive
style. They procured a number of empty kegs to which rocks and ropes
were attached. These were sunk at the most favorable points, and the
Kanakas, by diving down, would shovel the sand into them. They were
hauled up and the sand was washed in cradles in the usual manner. But
this deep cavity, like many others upon the various rivers, contained
but little gold, as was afterwards discovered by a company that
bought out the Kanakas, for upon pumping out the water by the use of
water-wheels, not enough gold was found to pay the expense of working
it.
The fact that the deep holes and depressions found in the river beds
of California contained but little gold was a singular discovery, and
an unaccountable phenomenon to the miners, for, owing to the great
specific gravity of gold, it should always settle to the lowest places,
and it is upon this principle that the miner is enabled to make use
of the cradle and sluices for the saving of gold. For such reasons it
was hard to explain why the greatest quantities should be found on
the higher riffles in our river beds and the less amount in the deep
cavities. The only explanation of this phenomenon, in my opinion, is
that these deep depressions found in the river beds were scooped out by
glacial action after the gold had been deposited there.
About the middle of April in the spring of ’50, the central mining
regions were almost entirely deserted. All business had ceased, and
within a radius of ten miles, where hundreds of miners were hard
at work but two or three months before, not more than six or eight
remained. In the creek, for a distance of four miles from the upper
part of Hangtown, to the village of Cold Springs, a distance of about
five miles, but four miners were at work, all doing well, and two
of them to my knowledge, were washing out daily from six to fifteen
ounces. All hands had struck out for better diggings. Did they find
them? A few, perhaps, but the greater portion of them, who returned to
their old mines in autumn, and found their claims occupied by others,
concluded that they rather missed it. The rains being over by the last
of April, mining with cradles through the summer season was impossible,
except in a few localities. In some cases dirt was conveyed by ox teams
and other means of transportation to where it could be washed, and
other miners again would throw up their pay dirt on the bank, ready for
washing in the fall.
During the summer, an excitement was occasioned by the wish and desire
of all Eastern men, or Yankees (for at that time all persons from
any point east of the Mississippi River and north of the Ohio were
called “Yanks” by all those who came from States west of it), for the
admission of the State into the Union. And the State was admitted into
the Union on September 9th, 1850. From this day, everything seemed to
undergo an entire change, and instead now of being a resident thousands
of miles from home in a foreign land, we had by an act of Congress been
transferred, as if by magic, into our own country, under the protection
of the Stars and Stripes. Officers were now elected, and the machinery
of a State Government put into motion. Posters could be found tacked
upon the trees, stating that certain candidates for the various offices
would honor our town by exhorting from a stump, or from the top of a
whiskey barrel, upon the topics of the day, and what they would do if
elected. Other candidates followed in proper time and order.
I forgot to mention that towards spring, in consequence of the bad
conditions of the roads to Sacramento City, the prices of all eatables
advanced to fabulous figures: flour at one time selling at $1 per lb.,
molasses and vinegar $2 a bottle, potatoes $1.50 per lb., and other
provisions in proportion. An Ames’ shovel was worth at this time $16,
and a good pair of heavy boots from $40 to $50; but, with the opening
of spring all was changed, and provisions were as cheap as in any other
portion of the State.
The principal and chief article of food at this early day was the
Chilean bean, and such was its value that in times of scarcity, as
is related by some writer who witnessed the incident very probably,
a miner seated upon a huge nugget of gold, offered the trifling sum
of $25,000 for a dish of pork and beans. This fact, however, has been
denied by those who ought to know.
The following bill of fare will give an idea of the cost of living in
the mining region at this period:
ELDORADO HOTEL,
_Hangtown, January, 1850._
M. ELSTNER, PROPRIETOR.
SOUP.
Bean $1 00
Ox-tail (Short) 1 50
ROAST.
Beef, wild, (prime cut) 1 50
“ Up along 1 00
“ a la mode (plain) 1 00
“ with one potato (fair size) 1 25
“ Tame, from Arkansas 1 50
VEGETABLES.
Baked Beans, plain 75
“ Greased 1 00
Two potatoes (medium size) 50
“ “ peeled 75
ENTREES.
Sauer Kraut 1 00
Bacon, fried 1 00
“ stuffed 1 50
Hash, Low Grade 75
“ 18 carats 1 00
GAME.
Cod Fish Balls, pr. Pair 75
Grizzly Roast 1 00
“ Fried 75
Jackass Rabbit (Whole) 1 50
PASTRY.
Rice Pudding, Plain 75
“ with Molasses 1 00
“ with Brandy Peaches 2 00
Square Meal, with Dessert 3 00
_Payable in Advance._
_Gold Scales on the end of Bar._
Books, papers and reading matter of any description were very scarce
articles in the mines at this early day, with the exception, perhaps,
of a few Bibles which were brought around Cape Horn. An acquaintance,
who occupied a log cabin near, informed me that the only book he was
able to find was an old Farmer’s Almanac, for which he paid $1.00, and,
said he,
“I read that almanac through and through, forwards and backwards,
sideways and upside down, and by spring had acquired such a knowledge
of astronomical science, that I could locate the signs of the Zodiac
blindfolded, stand on my head and calculate an eclipse, foretell
the condition of the weather for more than ten years ahead, and
prognosticate the value of the popcorn, baked peanut, and chewing gum
crops for the whole time.”
Towards the spring of ’50 a little event occurred here in this
[Illustration: “THERE SHE COMES, BOYS!”]
town for which it never as yet has received due credit or mention.
It was nothing more nor less than the organization of a temperance
society, and the first in the mining regions, at least, if not in
the State. Money was contributed, and a canvas house was erected
with a seating capacity for two hundred persons. Mr. Quereau, a
prominent lawyer, was chosen as the President, and Mr. A. W. Bee as
Vice-President. The Executive Committee consisted of G. Wheeler, F.
A. Bee and three others. Meetings were held two evenings a week, upon
which occasions old veterans in the business would enlighten the
audience upon the evils of intemperance in general, as well as the
horrors and dangers which would result from frequent use of the vile
compounds sold in the mining regions for pure liquor. But all things
have an ending, and temperance societies are no exception to the
general rule. In the autumn of ’50, the greater portion of the active
members of the society had departed for other mining camps, and it was
finally abandoned for want of patronage.
For the first six months after our arrival in the mines it was hardly
possible to get a letter from our friends at home, the only chance
being to send to San Francisco by some person who was going down on
business or for pleasure. At such times the cost of a letter ranged
all the way from $1 to $2, and even in some cases as high as $3 each,
for the reason that the one who was willing to do the favor was
oftentimes obliged to buy a convenient position near the post-office
window in San Francisco rather than take his place in line, and be
compelled to remain in the city longer than was necessary. But upon the
establishment of regular mail facilities into the mines, in the spring
of ’50, there was a change--we received our mails regularly, and within
four days after the arrival of the steamer at ’Frisco. Upon the day of
the arrival of the mail, eager crowds of miners would gather in front
of the office, and watch for the appearance of the stage as it came
into view over the top of Hangtown Hill, and “there she comes!” would
be the cry from a hundred throats, as it first made its appearance. As
the boys received their letters from Molly, Polly and “Sary Anne,” they
would take a seat upon some convenient old box or barrel, and eagerly
devour the contents, and the nature of the news, whether good or bad,
could be easily seen in their countenances.
“There,” said Bob Hewitt, as he drew his coat sleeve across his eyes,
after having read his letter while sitting upon a stump in the street,
“that’s just my infernal luck!”
“Why, what’s the matter now, Bob?” his friends inquired.
“Matter! why I have just got the news that I have lost a fortune down
in old Kentuck.”
“How is that?” they inquired.
“Well boys, don’t you remember that little red-headed cuss who worked
with me over in the big canon last winter?”
“Oh yes.”
“Well, he went home on a visit and I sent a lot of specimens and
presents by him to my gal, and I’ll be doll garned if he didn’t tell
her that I was dead and married her himself, the little cuss, and she
had a fortune too. Oh!”
[Illustration: AN UNGRATEFUL PARD.]
A regular post-office was soon established with T. Nugent as our first
postmaster, and, if I am not mistaken. I think it was Mr. Nugent who
first gave to the camp the name of Placerville sometime during the
spring of ’51, although it continued to be known and called Hangtown
for three or four years afterwards, by the mining community.
At this early day, there was but very little coin, either of gold or
silver, in use in the mining regions, and gold dust was invariably used
for all business purposes. It was customary in all business places,
stores, hotels, and bar-rooms, as well as in the barber shops, to have
upon the counter, or other convenient place, a pair of gold scales
for weighing the gold dust, with the proper weights for weighing any
desired amount, from the price of a drink of whiskey to a sack of
flour, the value of gold dust being estimated at $16.00 per ounce, or
$.80 to the penny-weight, as its standard value for the purchase of
all commodities. In the use of fine gold dust in this manner much was
scattered and lost; but in some of the saloons the ingenious barkeepers
would take the precaution to cover the floor below the scales with
cloth or zinc, and by this means increase their regular salary to some
extent. Of one in particular it was said that in handling sacks of
gold dust, although he was generally very careful, yet at such a time
it was often observed that his hand had a remarkable way of trembling
violently. The consequence was that the cloth upon the floor below the
scales panned out monthly an average of about $100, which would have
been entirely lost but for the wise forethought of the bartender. One
of the barkeepers in a prominent saloon remarked that by the judicious
handling of the buckskin sack, and with a tight floor behind the
counter it was an easy job to realize $300 per month, and, furthermore,
that he could even improve upon that, when he felt real well.
The price of drinks at the bar in the mining regions, at this time
and during the winter of ’49 and ’50, were 3/4 pennyweight or about
$.50 for a single, and one pennyweight (heavy) for two drinks; but
it was not until the fall of ’50 that drinks fell to the regulation
price of $.25 (fancy drinks extra), which price was maintained for
several years. At this early day, nothing could be purchased for a
less sum of gold dust, or coin, than $.25, and it was not until ’54
that the little innocent but insignificant dime came into circulation,
which was followed a few years later by the diminutive 5-cent piece
and the nickel, which will in their turn, no doubt, be accompanied by
the 1-cent coin, as our civilization advances to higher conditions of
development. Much has been stated in regard to the habits of the early
miners, of their intemperance and manner of spending their money; but
this is all a mistake, for they were as a general rule industrious and
temperate in their habits, and in fact more so in my opinion, than any
other subsequent emigration. The first
[Illustration: THE SYDNEY DUCKS TAKE WATER.]
temperance organization in our State was organized by these same
forty-niners.
It must not be supposed that a residence in California on the part
of the natives of the Eastern States, would cause them to forget
the habits of their fathers, and pass over in silence or without
recognizing, the day upon which all Americans give full expression to
their patriotism. Among us were very many who were born and raised
under the shadow of old Bunker Hill; consequently, it was absolutely
necessary that we do honer to the day by celebrating it in the usual
manner, a knowledge of which we had acquired in early boyhood. Stumps
and old logs were charged with the powder; guns and pistols were
brought into service, and upon the morning of the 4th they told the
tale, belching forth the glad news, echoing through the hills that
liberty and freedom had perched upon our banner, and that the 4th of
July had arrived in California, and was going to remain with us. A
military company was formed, commanded by “Squire Bob” (Ed. Otis, of
Boston), and with colors flying, marched to the tune of “Yankee Doodle”
and other appropriate military airs, performed upon drum and fife
around through the town, and when, late in the evening, we retired to
our cabins, we felt that we had done our share in the celebration of
the day, and although so far from our homes, in a strange land, yet
we had not lost nor sacrificed, in our desire for gold, one jot of
our respect for the old flag or love for our country. I should have
mentioned that at 10 A.M., exercises were held in the
large tent used for a temperance hall, which consisted in singing the
patriotic songs “Red, White and Blue,” “The Star Spangled Banner,” and
others of a similar nature, followed by an oration delivered by Mr.
Quereau.
It is probably well known that the news of the gold discovery in
California reached the Australian Colonies early in ’49, and the
consequence was that large numbers of the colonists made their way
here immediately, and among them were a great many ex-convicts. This
class went into the mines, and in ’49 and ’50 there were a large number
of them around Hangtown and in the immediate vicinity. When these
Sydney ducks (as they were entitled) were informed that a 4th of July
oration was to be delivered in Hangtown, they protested against it,
and made certain threats that in case any allusion should be made to
England that was at all disrespectful, the orator should suffer the
consequences. Mr. Quereau, however, nothing daunted, mounted the
platform, and, taking a large horse-pistol from under his coat, he
laid it upon the table before him, and delivered his oration in grand
style, taking very good care not to forget old England, and he was not
very particular in the choice of his language in relation to the events
which occurred during our struggle for Independence. But there was no
interruption from the Sydney ducks, and it was well for them that they
kept good order during its delivery, for notwithstanding a disagreement
among the residents of the extreme Eastern and Western portions of the
Union, each one held an individual, undivided interest in 4th of July,
and any attempt on the part of these Sydney ducks to prevent or to
interfere in any manner with the regulation 4th of July oration would
have been fatal to them.
[Illustration: CURIOSITY SATISFIED.]
During the continuation of the celebration upon the evening of the 4th,
a slight accident occurred, although not of a very serious nature, yet
very unsatisfactory to an inquisitive mind. Dr. Ruddock found amongst
a pile of rubbish a keg, in the bottom of which was a quantity of wet
powder. The Doctor was curious to know whether it would explode, and
the only way to find out was to try it, and he did. Placing the keg
upon the ground in a suitable position, he stepped back a few paces
from it, and with a shot-gun fired a charge into the keg, and his
curiosity was satisfied. He concluded the celebration of the day in a
very heroic manner, but remarked when his friends, Luke Richardson,
Hale Moore and Dr. Marshall were painting and oiling his badly scorched
countenance, that he thought he had finished up the festivities of the
day very creditably. Said he:
“I had no idea that the darned old keg would kick back in that way;
but anyhow my experiment was a complete success, and that’s some
satisfaction.”
Fresh beef was now very plentiful and cheap in all the mining
districts, and droves of wild Spanish cattle could be seen wending
their way over the hills and among cañons, destined for the various
settlements. It required, usually, quite a large number of Mexican
cattle men, or Vaqueros, to drive a small drove of these wild cattle
from Lower California to the mining regions, to prevent their
stampeding, which they will often do when becoming frightened. Some
curious scenes and narrow escapes of the miners among the ravines were
often witnessed, one in particular more comical than serious, however.
Upon the arrival into the lower part of the town of a small drove of
this species of beeves, they became frightened, and the usual stampede
and scattering among ravines and gulches in all directions was the
result. A miner was seated upon his stool, washing with his cradle.
On the other side of him was the pit from which he was digging his
pay dirt. This pit was about twelve feet square and about six feet in
depth. Hearing a noise in the rear he turned his head, and saw very
near him a wild steer, with the long regulation horns and with blood
in its eye. He had no time to run, but leaped over his cradle and into
the bottom of his pit. The steer, not to be foiled, followed in his
track over the cradle and into the pit with the miner. They faced each
other for a moment, and it was difficult to tell which was the most
frightened, the steer or the miner. The latter scrambled out as soon as
possible, and the steer was secured. This was the only instance ever
known of a miner’s claim being jumped by a wild steer.
About this time a storekeeper in town found among a load of provisions
hauled from Sacramento City, a barrel of provisions of some kind, which
from all appearances and smell was so badly damaged as to be unfit for
use. It was therefore consigned to the
[Illustration: BULLING THE MINE.]
rubbish heap in the rear of the store, where it was soon covered up
with empty barrels and boxes. The proprietor noticed that certain
emigrants from the Fatherland would be seen occasionally prowling
around the back yard, apparently having lost something. But little
attention, however, was paid to them, and one day a burly Dutchman came
into the store, tired, covered with dust, and said:
“I vants me some von dot, for I vas walked more as den miles.”
The storekeeper remarked that he couldn’t tell what “dot” was.
“Vell, den, I shows you vat I want. You shust come mit me.”
The storekeeper followed him to the rear of the store, and the
Dutchman, pointing to the rubbish heap, remarked that “some of dot in
dere vas vat he wanted.”
The boxes and barrels being removed, the barrel of rotten meats was
exposed to view, and he was informed that the contents were unfit to
eat.
“Ach, mein Gott! I knows better as dot. You shust bust em in, und I
shows you.”
The storekeeper, to satisfy him, with an axe “busted em in,” and found
to his astonishment that instead of its being a barrel of rotten hams,
it was, in fact, a barrel of good, old-fashioned sauerkraut of mature
age made in Holland having been brought around Cape Horn in some ship.
When the storekeeper inquired of the man how in the world he knew what
was in that barrel, with a toss of his shaggy head and with a vigorous
sniff he replied:
“Vell, den, I shust nose it!”
This sauerkraut sold readily at a fabulous price, $1 per pound being
considered very reasonable. The odor of it had been wafted by the winds
though the various ravines and gulches among the hills, and soon was
scented by the Dutch miners from afar, who came from all directions to
indulge in the odoriferous compound brought from the Fatherland.
Up to this time, quietness and peace had reigned and but few quarrels
had occurred among the residents of the country, and, as far as I know,
no one had been shot. Neither had there been any robberies committed,
for there was no necessity of it since all had the opportunity of
engaging in, what was at that period in the history of the country,
a very profitable business. Locks upon doors were unnecessary, and
articles of value, as well as the gold dust in the cradle, could be
left upon the claim in perfect safety. It was from
[Illustration: “I SHOST NOSE IT VEN.”]
this fact that originated the old, worn-out term of “honest miner.”
Many strange characters crossed the plains at this season; but a very
few, however, came with the intention of mining or of making a living
by manual labor at all, the great majority of them being bar-room
loafers and gamblers. They all succeeded, however, in making a living
by the use of their capital, which consisted principally of their wits.
“Old Pike” was a character common in the gold regions, and specimens
of this genus could be found in every mining camp. They were generally
advanced in years, good natured, and afforded no little amusement to
the miners.
The back-woods fiddler, usually from Arkansas, was also a character
seen in every mining town, and his chief business was to seat himself
upon an old box or barrel by the saloon door, and give to the miners
who congregated in the town after the work of the day was over a
specimen of Arkansas music, such as the real genuine “Arkansas
Traveler,” with all its variations. By this means he was enabled, at
any rate, to sample the various liquors at the bar, which answered also
for victuals and clothing.
Another singular character in the mines was the genus generally
designated as “Dutch Charley.” They were Hollanders by birth, and
sailors by occupation, and singularly enough they were almost
invariably the most fortunate miners in the camps in early times. Their
claims were rich, and they enjoyed their affluence to the highest
degree, for it was no uncommon sight to see one of these “Dutch
Charlies” parading in town, on a Sunday, with a huge gold watch in each
vest pocket and with an immense chain suspended around his neck and
waist, with the ends reaching near to his knees. These chains were made
from gold nuggets, which were fastened together with copper wire. But
the career of this genus was short, and as the rich ravines were worked
out many of them became very poor and hardly able to make a living, the
majority finally returning again to the sea.
The circus must not be forgotten, for in any quarter of the globe where
an audience can be scraped together will be found the circus. The
first to make its appearance in this part of the mining regions was
Costello’s. It was, I think, in the Autumn of ’50. He had the usual
complement of horses and riders, with the clown as a chief feature,
without which the circus would be a very tame affair. The tent was
usually crowded of an evening with men and women principally, for the
small boy who crawls in under the canvas had not as yet put in an
appearance in the mining regions, being a later production, and only
coming upon the scene as population increased and society was elevated
to higher conditions.
[Illustration: DUTCH CHARLEY.]
In the first settlement of the mining regions, game of all kinds was
very plentiful, but as the country became more thickly populated, the
deer and other game remained higher up in the mountains. Quail and
jack rabbits are even at this late day very plentiful. Lions, as well
as lynx and wild cat, are often encountered by the prospector, but are
generally great cowards, and therefore harmless. The grizzly bears, the
king of beasts of this region, which were often seen by the miners,
have emigrated to new pastures. It was unsafe to encounter one of these
animals unless well armed. Good runners and good climbers they were no
respecters of persons, and would attack a lawyer, doctor, or even a
minister of the gospel as readily as a common miner, and enjoy it just
as much. The tarantulas also, were very numerous at this time, and a
dangerous insect to frolic with unless there was a mutual understanding
at the start. Many were bitten by them, and in a few cases the bites
proved fatal. Upon camping out amongst the tall grass, it was found
to be a very wise precaution to first turn your boots wrong side out
before putting them on in the morning.
[Illustration: TURN YOUR BOOTS.]
The grizzly is of all animals the hardest to kill, and for this reason
many hunters were very seriously injured and killed by them. A miner,
who was at work near town, came running in one morning with the news
that he had just seen a big grizzly in the brush behind his cabin. It
took but a short time for the old Kentucky hunting sport, Dan Boone, a
descendant of the original Daniel, to collect together other lovers of
bear hunting, who, armed with the long barrelled Kentucky rifles, were
soon on their way in search of his silver-tipped majesty. They found
his trail, and followed it
[Illustration: TOO MUCH FOR THE BEAR.]
for some distance down the big cañon, until they finally lost it among
the brush and rocks. They then went to the summit of a low hill to
await future developments, but they didn’t have long to wait, for
the bear in the meantime had struck their trail, and was looking for
them. The animal was soon seen near the foot of the hill, forcing its
way through the thick underbrush towards them. Boone was in command
for the occasion, and arranged his men in line ready for the word of
command, and in a few minutes the great animal came into full view
out of the brush and distant from them about 50 yards. Then came the
order to fire, and the report of nine rifles echoed among the ravines
and cañons. The bear stopped, looked up towards the hunters, shook his
head with a savage growl, and continued to move upward toward their
works. Boone ordered them to load hastily, and at the word every man
to fire and then everyone for himself. When the bear had come within
twenty yards of the line, the order was given to fire; but running was
unnecessary, for the bear rolled over from the weight of lead. When
skinned, eleven rifle balls were found in its body. A miner in Shasta
County towards the spring of ’50, while out prospecting, was met upon
a narrow trail by a fine healthy specimen of a grizzly, and it seemed
determined to salute the astonished miner with an affectionate and
loving embrace; the latter resisted vigorously the loving advances of
the brute, and by a great display of courage and activity did succeed
in saving his life, but not without receiving serious injury, his
face being badly torn and one of his eyes entirely destroyed. As the
country became more thickly settled, the rattlesnake, the scorpion, and
the tarantula, as well as all other dangerous and venomous animals,
followed in the trail of the coyote, wild cat, deer, and the grizzly,
for new pastures far away from the haunts of men, the range of
six-shooters, patent breech loaders, long range 42 calibre, whiskey,
and the influence of civilization, generally.
[Illustration: THE PROSPECTOR AND THE BEAR.]