MINING SPECULATORS--THE LOST BROTHER--GAMBLING--A GENEROUS GAMBLER--AN
IMPORTANT DISCOVERY--BEGINNING OF FRUIT CULTURE AND WINE MANUFACTURE
IN CALIFORNIA--THE FIRST CHURCH ORGANIZATION IN THE MINING
REGIONS--“OLD NICK” AND HIS ANIMALS--“OLD SYD.”
Many persons were now continually ruining into the mines, and
stupendous frauds were being perpetrated upon them in the sale of
mining claims.
One very enterprising individual who had drifted into the low red hill
or slide in the hope of finding a lead, being disappointed, loaded his
shot-gun with gold dust, and discharged it into various places. Upon
finding a newcomer who desired to purchase, he was requested to take
a pan and prospect for himself, which the victim would often do with
remarkable success. He, however, saw the joke after he had bought the
mine, and procuring a shot-gun played the same game on some other chap;
and I’m not sure, but I think that their descendants have inherited
the same habit, and are yet shooting and selling old claims. One sale
of a mining claim is worth mentioning. It was a rich piece of ground
in the lower part of Hangtown, and located on a rich lead. A chap who
had been hard at work for nearly ten days stripping the top dirt from
his claim, about fifteen feet square and ten feet deep, prospecting a
pan of dirt in one corner and finding nothing, concluded to sell it,
if possible. Presently along came three or four young men who had just
arrived, and he proposed to sell it to them, explaining that there
was good pay a little deeper. They paid him his price--one hundred
and fifty dollars--and early next morning started in to work. By 3
P.M. they were down to bed rock in various places, and
water being handy they washed a pan just for curiosity.
The seller of the claim, who lingered around to see how badly he had
fooled them, was, when he saw them wash out pan after pan,
[Illustration: SHARP SHOOTERS.]
containing from ten dollars to twenty dollars, fifty dollars, and one
hundred dollars to a pan, the most disgusted man in California. He
tried to buy it back, and offered five hundred dollars for it. They
took out in about five days nearly $7,000, and this was their first
mining venture.
The winter of ’50-51 as before stated was a very dry one, and there
was hardly water enough to run a tom. Consequently the summer of ’51
was very dry, and the dry diggings throughout the country were almost
entirely deserted. This season saw large amounts of gold dust taken
from the river beds of the Yuba, Feather and Bear Rivers, as well as
in the various forks of the American, and also in the streams in the
central and lower portions of the State. Small towns were now being
started in the various mining districts. School-houses and churches
were conspicuous among all, and the country was now, more than ever,
assuming the appearance of civilization, to the great disgust of the
border-ruffian element, one of whom was heard to remark:
“That ef these Yanks didn’t stop with that ar’ nonsense of fooling away
their time with school an’ prayin’ shebangs, the whole country would go
to h--l.” But time has since proved that he lied.
The emigration of this fall was larger than that of the year previous
and was that of a better class, consisting principally of families,
many of whom were from States east of the Mississippi.
A bulletin board, or, rather, a book for registering the names of the
newly-arrived emigrants in order that friends and acquaintances could
learn of their destination and location, was put up. Many amusing
incidents occurred in the search for those who had previously arrived.
A young man, having just arrived, made inquiries among the various
barrooms and hotels for his brother, who had, as he was informed by
the bulletin board, come across the plains this season. The young man
was from Ohio, and his older brother had left home some twelve or
fifteen years previous. The new arrival, therefore, was very anxious to
find his brother. The train with which the young man had just arrived
was under the control of a man from New Orleans called the Colonel,
his real name not being known by any one upon the train. In making
inquiries in one of the barrooms, with the hope of finding some one who
could give him the required information in regard to his brother, a
gentleman from New Orleans, who was present, remarked:
[Illustration: THE DISGUSTED SPECULATOR.]
“Why, the man you’re inquiring for, the Colonel, is here in town, and I
saw him not ten minutes ago over there in that drug store.”
[Illustration: FOUND HIS BROTHER.]
The young man went over and saw the Colonel, with whom he had crossed
the plains, in the store, and of course mentioned the reasons for his
coming in as directed.
“Well,” said the Colonel, “what was your brother’s name?”
“His name was William B. Richards.”
“Well,” rejoined the Colonel, “that is my name.”
Sure enough, this Colonel with whom he had crossed the plains was the
long-lost brother!
It was the habit, or custom rather, in early days to give to each man a
certain nickname by which he was usually known, his real name being, as
a general rule, unknown, or even unasked for. “Whar air you from?” was
the main question and the information most desired, and usually decided
his nickname.
Here were “Old Pike,” “Big and Little Pike,” “Old Kentuck,” “Texas
Jack,” “Texas Jim,” “Old Arkansas”; if Scotch, he was “Sandy,” or
“Scotty”; if from the East, “Little or Big Yank,” and their mining
locations would in some cases, also decide their names. There were
“French Flat Pete,” “Sandy Hill Mike,” “Poverty Point Jim,” _ad
infinitum_.
On one occasion, a young miner returned to his Eastern home for a
visit, and one day, while visiting at some family acquaintances with
his parents at a distance, upon looking over some daguerrotypes lying
on the tables, he remarked that one of them resembled very much a young
man with whom he had worked, and who was at present living in the same
place, Mocklmne Hill, in a cabin near his. He could not tell the name,
but he went by the name of Jack, and one day, being in his cabin, saw
a book upon the table, and found upon looking at it, that it was the
“Pilgrims Progress,” on the fly leaf of which was written the name of
Elizabeth Andrews.
“Oh, Oh!” said a young lady present, “that is my brother, John Andrews,
and we haven’t heard from him for nearly 15 years, and were afraid that
some accident had happened to him somewhere.”
After the commencement of the rainy season, in the fall of ’51, the
river miners flocked into the placer mining districts. Other arrivals
from across the waters, soon swelled the population in all of the
various mining camps. Gambling in all of its various forms became again
the principal amusement. Barrooms and gambling-houses vied with each
other in furnishing their patrons with the finest and loudest music,
and bands could be heard playing in all of them during the greater
portion of the evening, and until the wee sma’ hours of the morning.
The professionals were as a general rule Southerners by birth, hailing
from New Orleans, Louisville, Memphis, Richmond and St. Louis; whilst
only occasionally would be found a sport claiming Boston or New York
as his birthplace. Many of this class were men of good education and
abilities, and many of them descendants of respectable families as
well. They had been accustomed from childhood to associate with this
class in their native cities, and therefore inherited or acquired
the gambling trait of character. It is of course well understood that
all men who gamble for money are necessarily very bad characters; but
the professional gambler of early days formed, in many instances, an
exception to this general rule, and should not be confounded with the
lower ten-cent ante poker gambler found bumming and loafing around
the gambling places of to-day. Among this former class were as many
good, honest and square-dealing men as could generally be found among
those engaged in any other business, and they were, as a rule, more
charitable, being always ready to contribute their share, and a little
more too, towards assisting those who were in distress.
A lady with two daughters arrived in the mines late in the autumn of
’49, her husband having died on the plains during the journey. They
were in a very destitute condition and among strangers in a strange
land, without a single acquaintance in the State, as far as they knew.
Her great desire was to return to their Eastern home, and to enable
them to do so newly-found friends used every effort, endeavoring, among
the miners and business men of the town, to raise sufficient money for
the purpose; but not enough money, however, could be collected. Some
one mentioned the circumstance in one of the gambling houses, and one
gambler, Lucky Bill, whose sad fate I have before mentioned, who was
present, remarked:
“Well, if Mrs. S. wishes to return East again with her daughters, she
shall go.”
Taking his hat around among the gamblers in the various houses, he
raised in one hour about $1,500, which was sent to her, and in a few
days the family went on its way rejoicing.
The winter of ’51-’52 was a very damp one, and mining throughout the
entire region was carried on very extensively with toms, long and
short, and towards spring sluices came into use, which enabled the
miner to wash large quantities of dirt that would not pay by any
other process. The greatest activity prevailed among all classes, and
fortunes were realized by many. Among the arrivals during this year
from the East, were many who had previously been in the mines and
returned home; some to remain, while many had been to visit parents,
wives and families as well, also in some few cases with the intention
to return with a partner. Among the
[Illustration: THE GAMBLER’S CHARITY.]
latter class was a young man from Philadelphia, who had been absent
from his loved one nearly two years. During the first year after
parting he had written to her by every steamer; but, for some reason,
for several months previous to revisiting his home he had neglected to
correspond, not dreaming of the effect which such neglect sometimes
produces upon the female mind. Upon arriving in his native city he
hastened at once to the home of his adored one, knocked upon the door,
and the mother of his darling Maggie, answering the call, invite him in
with the greatest pleasure. Maggie is called; she enters the room, and
the negligent miner goes for her, but hold! with a wave of the hand,
she exclaims:
“Joseph, away, away! I thought you were dead, and I’m a married woman
now.”
Joe’s advice to all young men upon his return to California was: “Boys,
write often! Write often!”
During the winter, many ditches had been dug, bringing water from the
mountain streams into the various mining districts, thus enabling the
miners to work ravines, slides and benches, which never before had been
worked. This extended the area of mining ground, and from this time
forth it was possible to work nearly all gold-bearing soil.
In the spring of ’52, many who had succeeded in accumulating a
sufficient amount of gold turned their attention to the cultivation
of land, and to stock-raising in other portions of the State; and
throughout the summer, ranches were pre-empted and located in many of
the lower counties, for the very important discovery had now been made
that a portion of California, at least, contained land suitable for
agriculture. Up to this time, however, but very few people came with
the intention of remaining, the principal purpose being to acquire a
sufficient amount of gold, and then to return as soon as possible to
their Eastern homes. But to thousands this quick return home was a
delusion and a snare; for just how to return, or how to acquire the
necessary means for so doing, was a conundrum that they endeavored to
solve, but in many instances were finally compelled to give up.
Many left wives and families in the East, expecting to meet them again
in a short time; but from sickness, misfortune, and poor luck, as well
as in consequence of bad habits, the years rolled on, and they became
weaned from their loved ones at home, who
[Illustration: WRITE OFTEN, BOYS!]
were finally forgotten. In one instance, a man from an Eastern State,
leaving a wife and several daughters to care for themselves, arrived
here in ’50. He soon forgot his family in the East, but after a few
years, being very unsuccessful in his mining and business matters, and
hearing that his daughters had made wealthy marriages, concluded to
surprise them with a visit. As the result proved, he was himself the
most surprised man in that section of the country, for none of them
knew him and would not even recognize him, a daughter saying that as he
had never written nor sent them one dollar to assist them, therefore
he could not be their father, and they kindly bade him farewell. He
returned to California a sadder, but a more single man.
[Illustration: THE SURPRISE.]
Previous to the discovery of the old river channels in the hills, it
was the almost universal opinion, I think, that the mines would in a
very few years be entirely worked out, and all would be compelled to
return to their Eastern homes; but by the discovery of the hill gravel
mining, the time necessary to accomplish this in was of course extended
to a later day, and taken in connection, also, with the fact of the
other very important discoveries, that good land was found in some of
the other counties, it looked very reasonable to suppose that it would
be possible to live here, and establish permanent homes in California.
It was not until about three years later that this opinion became
prevalent, and hundreds of families throughout the mining regions came
to the conclusion that this might prove to be a pretty good country to
live in after all.
Steamers were now making regular trips, bringing letters from home and
friends semi-monthly. Besides, ships were continually arriving laden
with all the necessaries of life, as well as its conveniences, and
ladies could appear in the streets of the small, inferior mining towns
sporting the latest styles of dress, hats and crinoline attachments,
similar to those in the streets of New York or Boston, and what more
could they desire? Wages were high in all of the towns and cities;
provisions and groceries were reasonable in price, and the whole
country assumed the air of a continuation of conditions of general
prosperity of a more permanent character. The discovery was further
made that, although malaria and mosquitoes were prevalent in certain
portions of the country near the river margins, and also in the
vicinity of certain flats covered by stagnant waters, and that fleas
in swarms infested its chief city, yet the country in general was a
very healthy one, the fleas being confined to their native soil and not
allowed to scatter around over the State much.
The diverting of the water from mountain streams by means of flumes
and ditches for mining purposes, changed entirely the character and
general appearance of the mining regions, for the eye was soon greeted
with the appearance of gardens scattered around among the hills, as
well as in various camps. Cabbages raised their shaggy heads in their
beds, adjacent to the bed of violets and daisies. Radishes, turnips
and horse-radish, etc., could be found profusely scattered here and
there, surrounded with rose-bushes, dahlias and the high, lofty and
aristocratic sunflower. Beautiful cottages, surrounded with blooming
gardens, could be seen dotting the sides and gentle slopes of the hills
in the environments of the various mining towns, all denoting the fact
of changed conditions, and telling in plain language that now we have
come to stay. These changed conditions were not, however, confined to
any one particular section of the country, but to all of the mineral
regions that at this time were being worked, which included the central
counties of the State, as well also as the chief towns and cities. All
received the impulse of the change, and moved forward in their course
toward a higher improvement of conditions.
With these changes came, also, from the far East, many who had
previously returned to their Eastern homes, under the impression
when they left that a total collapse here of all mining and business
interests generally was a question of but a few short years, and being
formed of that material peculiar to the pioneer, too proud to beg their
way, would, therefore, be compelled to remain and make their future
dwelling places in company with the Indians, amid the ruins of the once
thrifty but now deserted mining villages. Many of these men returned,
bringing their families with them also, satisfied that they found at
last a suitable spot upon the face of the earth for a home, safe from
the freezing blizzard and the destructive cyclone; and a country, too,
where at night, after the toil of the day is over and all have retired
to rest, and sweet, refreshing sleep is desired, the mercury in the
tube of the thermometer hanging by the door, which has been through the
day pretty well up towards the nineties, does not reverse the natural
order of things as it does in the East, and continue climbing up during
the night, forgetting to fall. On the contrary, here it conforms with
the natural law, and gently descends from its lofty elevation of the
day, evidencing a more agreeable temperature, necessary to sweet and
refreshing slumber.
These things, and many other facts of a similar nature, brought to our
State emigrants not only from the East, but from all other countries
of the globe, who desired to live under such favorable conditions, and
in a short time there could be found in the mining regions, as well
as in the chief towns and cities, representatives from almost every
nation. But a very small proportion, however, of those who came into
the mountains in the year ’53 engaged in the business of mining, for
previous to this time the very important discovery had been made that,
by the use of water for irrigation, the soil could be rendered highly
productive, and all kinds of fruits could be raised in the red and
apparently barren soil. The German population commenced the cultivation
of the grape vine, and from this point in the history of California can
be dated the inception of the fruit and wine industries of the Pacific
Slope, which in a few years swelled to immense proportions. The little
valleys and level places, suitable for orchards and vineyards, were
readily located, and everything indicated the fact that all had become
convinced that this was the promised land, for which they had so long
been searching.
It must not be supposed that the gold seekers from the Eastern side
of the Continent, in their earnest desire to improve their financial
condition, should entirely overlook their spiritual welfare; and that
they did not forget their early training was evident from the fact that
in the spring of ’51 a church was organized, and a suitable building
erected near the mouth of Cedar Ravine, where services were held upon
the Sabbath. The Rev. Mr. Owens was the first minister to officiate,
and it was stated that this was the first church organization in the
mining regions. The discovery was soon made, that although we had a
church and a very respectable congregation, containing quite a number
of ladies and a few children, yet there was something else wanting,
something that had been associated in our minds from infancy in
connection with a church, and this was a bell. The question therefore
at once suggested itself as to how we could reasonably expect success
in spiritual matters without a bell. Upon the supposition that this
would be an impossibility, a committee was appointed, and money was
raised for the purchase of one.
After much inquiry, the committee succeeded in purchasing in San
Francisco an old ship’s bell. This upon its arrival was hailed with
hearty cheers, and elevated in due time to its lofty perch upon the
roof of the church. The sound of it could be heard for many miles
around, reverberating among the ravines and cañons, telling to the
miners far and near, in the plainest tones and in unmistakable
language, that the holy Sabbath day had not only found its way across
the barren desert and the mountain ranges, but had come to stay, and
they must not forget it.
All persons are, perhaps, aware that the peculiar tone of a bell which
we have often been accustomed to hear, and are therefore familiar with,
can very easily be distinguished from the tones of another, even after
the lapse of many years. Near the head of the Big Cañon, about two
miles from the town, was a cabin occupied by three or four men who had
followed the sea, and upon the first Sabbath morning when the bell was
rung the sound of it reached the ears of the sailor boys; and one of
them rushing from the cabin door exclaimed:
“Blast me eyes, shipmates, if thet aint ole Dick’s voice” (the name
given to the bell on shipboard), “and I’ll jest bet a tar bucket agin
an ole soldier, that the Capt’in of the ship has been on a spree, lost
his bearin’s, and is a sailin’ up Hangtown Creek, and a comin’ to
anchor off the town. We’ll scrub decks, trim sails, make all taut, me
lads, and take a cruise down that way, and hev a talk with ole Dick.”
[Illustration: “THE VOICE OF OLD DICK.”]
Jack was informed upon reaching town that the bell upon the church,
sure enough, was formerly used upon the ship “Staffordshire.”
“Yas” says Jack; “I wud know that bell in any part o’ the world. For
twelve years Dick and I sailed together the seas over, from the China
Sea up through the Mediterranean, and the Indian Ocean; an’ we could
all understan’ Dick’s language when he talked to us. It was Dick who
tole us when the plum duff and ole horse was ready fur us to stow away
in our lockers. When ’twas our watch below, an’ also late at night,
when ’twas our watch on deck, we wud hear ole Dick sing out, ‘Aye,
below there, me hearties! Rouse out, ye lubbers, an’ come on deck,’
an’ we always obeyed his orders.’ Well, me lads, ’tis quite a change
fur ole Dick from the deck of a ship tossin’ about on the ocean, to
the roof of a church up in Hangtown; but he’ll do his duty faithfully
an’ if the land lubbers will be as quick to come on deck for prayers
when he talks to ’em on a Sunday mornin,’ as the lubbers in the ship’s
fo’cas’le were, they’ll all sail through life in safety with a fair
wind. An’ then, when their voyage is ended, and Dick tells them that
tis their watch below, they can slip their cables from this world
without fear, sail over to the other side, an’ find a safe harbor in
the next.”
About thirty-eight years have now passed since the old ship’s bell
first made its appearance in the mining regions. It served its purpose
well for a short time upon the roof of the church, in calling together
the miners for prayers on Sunday mornings; but an increase in number
of the congregation demanded a larger edifice. A larger bell was
therefore deemed necessary, and Dick was transferred to the roof of the
school-house on the hill, from which his voice can yet be heard, with
the same cheerful tone calling upon the children to come and prepare
themselves to take a part in the active duties of life.
The school was for a long time under the instruction of Mr. Cyrus
Bartlett, of New Bedford, Mass.
In the fall of ’51, no little excitement was created in the town,
by the entrance of a person whose name was Ben Nickerson, but who
was generally known, however, as “Old Nick.” He brought into the
mines with him a rather superannuated specimen of a grizzly, with a
diminutive donkey as an accompaniment, and the posters upon the fences
conveyed the valuable information that on the hill in the rear of the
Court House, within an inclosure erected for the express purpose, at
2 P.M. daily, Sundays unexcepted, would be witnessed
a most terrific combat between these two ferocious animals: tickets
$1, to be had at the door; reserved seats for ladies and children at
half price. To the credit of the ladies in the mining regions, it
may be as well to mention that none ever visited old Nick, nor his
inhuman exhibition. Occasionally the programme would be changed by
the substitution of a wild Spanish bull, in place of the donkey. In a
short time, however, public sentiment revolted against the inhuman
exhibition, and the citizens, en masse, tore down the structure.
[Illustration: OLD NICK’S GRAND ENTREE.]
Many old-timers will remember Syd Ketchum, of Hangtown. He was full of
his jokes, and was rightly named, for it was his greatest delight to
“ketch ’um” (the boys) occasionally. One afternoon he took his station
in the middle of the street in front of the Empire saloon, and casting
his eyes upward seemed to be gazing
[Illustration: THE CYCLONE.]
at some extraordinary object in the heavens. In a few minutes he was
surrounded by others who were anxious to see what he was gazing at
so earnestly, and among these was Anderson, the actor, who took his
station in front of Syd, and gazed intently and long in the same
direction. Finally, he turned to Syd and asked what he saw.
“Oh, nothing,” was the answer as he walked away.
Anderson, with his hands jammed in his pockets, stood in the same spot
and watched the joker until the latter was out of sight, and remarked,
as he turned to enter the saloon again:
“Well, I’ll be durned.”
“It was but a few days after this that Syd, rushing into the Belle
Union gaming house out of breath, exclaimed:
“Horrible, horrible. The Coloma stage, with a full load of passengers,
has just run off the Coloma street bridge.”
“Of course there was a great rush on the part of the crowd to the
corner below for the purpose of witnessing the horrible accident, and
among them was Anderson, the actor, in the lead. Upon their arrival at
the corner they saw the stage, with its load of passengers, on its way
up Coloma street, and it at once occurred to them that the stage never
could have gotten across the bridge without running off at the further
end of it.
“Well,” says Anderson, “durned if I don’t get even with old Syd, if I
have to live in Hangtown the rest of my life.”
He watched his opportunity and it soon came.
It was late in the fall and raining. In the large gambling house called
the Trio Hall, sitting around a great sheet iron stove one afternoon
were a number of men enjoying themselves, and among them was Syd.
All at once the front door was violently opened and in rushed Anderson,
the actor. He was hatless, and, from all appearances, was in the full
enjoyment of a full-fledged case of “jimjams.” He stepped to the stove
and with his foot kicked open the door, at the same time drawing from
under his coat a large powder horn, which he threw into the stove,
exclaiming:
“Let’s all go together, boys.”
A few minutes afterwards Syd, with a few others, ventured to look into
the door, and there stood the actor with his hat upon his head, who,
with a pleasant smile, inquired of Syd if the stage had run off the
bridge again.
[Illustration: NOT PREPARED TO GO.]
Some one asked Syd how he got out. He said that at times he was at
the top, and sometimes they were five or six deep and he was at the
bottom of the pile, but he managed, by rolling, tumbling and crawling
occasionally, with a hop, skip and a jump, to get outside before the
stove blew up, and acknowledged that Anderson had got even.
Soon after the hanging of Irish Dick in the fall of ’50, the question
of hanging a culprit in that promiscuous manner was objected to by
many, and Syd opposed it strongly upon the grounds that, as a general
rule, the hardest characters in the camp would be the first to pull on
the rope and cry “Hang him!” as was the case when Dick was hung, the
majority of those who were the most eager to hang him being men of the
lowest class.
Syd claimed that if a man were to run through the town, followed by
others who cried “Hang him! Hang him!” this crowd of ignorant barroom
loafers would join in the chase and hang the man, if they caught him,
without asking any question, and simply upon general principles and
from the excitement of the occasion. To prove this it was agreed that
a young man present should run down the street, a few others should
follow in his wake and cry “Hang him!” The young man started as agreed
upon, and before he reached the corner of Coloma street a dozen barroom
loafers had caught him, and with a rope around his neck were using him
in a very rough manner. No doubt they would have injured him severely,
even if they had not hung him, but for the interference of Syd and
others, who explained the joke as well as the object in playing it.