THE FORTY-NINER--SYD AT THE NORTH POLE--THE HOMES OF THE
OLD-TIMERS--THE REMAINS OF THE CABINS OF THE FORTY-NINERS--PANNING OUT
THE OLD CABINS.
In all mining excitements which have occurred upon the coast when new
discoveries have been made, the forty-niner was as a general rule the
first to be afflicted with the fever, and they would invariably be
found in advance, leading their friends to victory or to ruin.
Great numbers caught the fever and stampeded during the Frazier River
excitement, as well as of the Salmon River, Gold Bluff, Caribo, Alder
Gulch and other occasions, but returned again from their useless
search for new fields, not in despair, however, but only to make good
preparations for the next occasion that should offer in some other
section of the country. Many are at present trying their fortunes
in Montana and among the rugged cliffs of the Coeur d’Alene silver
regions, in the hope of yet being able to strike at least a paying mine
of some kind, if it is nothing more than pewter, sheet-iron, soap,
paint or putty, at any rate a paying mine, which will enable them to
do once more, before they depart for that happy land where prospecting
is an unnecessary business, a full suit of store clothes and a biled
shirt, including the usual accompaniments known to civilized society.
It is this incentive that gives energy to the old forty-niner, that
gives strength and elasticity to his limbs, and which enables him to
wander forth through deep and rocky cañons; to climb the steep and
rugged cliffs of the mountain ranges, in many cases where younger
prospectors are unable to follow, to discover if possible, some
location where he can get several colors to pan, and find the bed rock
pitching. But the old-timer, however, desires something more than this;
for it is not altogether the discovery of a fair prospect, and with
the bed rock pitching, that he wants. Not at all. But as Old Syd the
Badger, as he was titled, remarked after his return from one of his
excursions away north, at the time of the Frazier River excitement:
[Illustration: SYD’S LAST PROSPECT.]
“Oh, yaas! Thar is gold along up thar, but dogearn it, a feller can’t
go nowhar to prospect now, but that he will find that some sneaking
tender-foot has been thar a little ahead of him; darned if I don’t
hunt for some spot to prospect whar no miner’s pick was ever struck
yet.”
When it was suggested to him that there was but one spot where no
miner has ever prospected yet, and that that was at the North Pole,
he remarked that he’d be dogearned if he didn’t go thar, then, and
it was afterwards supposed that he did, for, some years afterwards,
some miners upon the Yukon saw the apparition of an old veteran miner
packing upon his back an immense roll of blankets, cooking utensils and
mining tools, going in the direction of the Pole, and at a distance,
the apparition, when seen through the fog, resembled in appearance
to a native the huge form of a mastodon wandering in the forests. We
have therefore every reason to believe that the first expedition which
succeeds in reaching the Pole will find the remains of Old Syd, the
Forty-niner, seated comfortably upon the top of the Pole upon which he
has put his mining notice, and with his glass carefully examining a
piece of it which he has broken off, to see if it contains mineral. The
idea seems almost universal among the residents of the State, and in
fact the coast, that the remnants of the Advance Guard of gold seekers,
the Forty-niners, are at present the poorest class of men of any upon
the coast; but this is a mistaken idea, for an investigation as to
the facts of the case show conclusively that many of our wealthiest
men were Forty-niners, although the great majority of them are now
poor. That they were energetic and restless, as well as adventurous
is evident, for it was the possession of these traits which made them
Forty-niners; for without them, they would certainly have waited for
others to take the lead. It is for these reasons that we now find
them roaming around upon various portions of the coast for new mines,
not that they care so much for the wealth buried there, but this
restless spirit of adventure to find wealth is from force of habit,
that others who follow them may enjoy the full benefit of it. And for
these adventures they were always ready, and at the first alarm when
there was wafted through the mining regions a bare suspicion that new
diggings had been found somewhere, the blankets were bound up at once
with all the necessary paraphernalia, ready at a moment’s notice; and
in some cases, they (the blankets) had been so accustomed to be bound
up, that (like the chickens of the man who was constantly moving with
his family from place to place, whenever they saw the old familiar
wagon at the door, would invariably lie down and cross their legs to
be tied), upon the first appearance of any unusual noise or confusion,
they would immediately roll up, the rope would wiggle and twist itself
into a knot around them, and the old coffee-pot, the fry-pan, as well
as the pick, pan and shovel from beneath the bunk, would all begin to
crawl towards their accustomed place upon the top of the blankets,
ready to be tied.
[Illustration: FORCE OF HABIT.]
It is remarked throughout the mining regions that these ancient relics
of a former period are a tough and a hardy race, healthy and vigorous,
and are capable of standing as much fatigue and severe labor as the
great majority of younger men; the reasons for this, of course, are
that those who remain of that great multitude who first arrived here,
took better care of themselves, as a rule; for if they had not, they
would not now be here. This fact, therefore, is a fair illustration of
the truth of the Darwinian theory of the survival of the fittest.
To an old-timer of this day, it is pleasant to wander amid the old
scenes where we mined so many long years ago with the pan and cradle.
The ravines and gulches have somewhat changed, it is true; for we find
where once the ground was clear and free from trees is now a dense
forest of thrifty pines. Yet the old localities have a familiar look,
and sitting upon a large boulder, which we well remember working around
and of panning from beneath it quite a respectable amount of gold,
we can almost in imagination go back in time to work over again the
events and scenes as they occurred in the past. In traveling among the
ravines and cañons at this late day in some portions of the mining
regions, the rambler will occasionally come across a log cabin hidden
in some recess, or upon the side of the hills among the forest trees,
and occupied by an old-timer. They once lived in camp or nearer to
the town, but such changes in course of time occurred--the old-timers
having scattered, whilst their places were occupied by strangers--that
in a few years those old-timers who remained, and who still continued
to linger around their old familiar haunts, were now in consequence
of these changes dwelling among strangers. This was disagreeable,
and could not be thought of. They therefore made their homes in
these out-of-way places, and seldom visit the towns or villages, but
hermit-like pass their time in company with their favorite cat or dog.
But a short time since, an old-timer having occasion to visit the
mining region, traveled through a section of the country where he mined
in early days, but which is now a lonely and desolate region. He was
therefore greatly astonished to find two log cabins which were occupied
in this deserted region; but he was much more surprised to find that
the occupants of both of them were old-timers with whom he had been
acquainted many long years before, and both were supposed to be dead.
They seem to enjoy life. They cultivate small gardens, and by the use
of a cradle, are enabled to find gold enough to furnish them with all
the necessaries of life, which, as one of them stated, consisted of
one part flour, two parts potatoes, two of bacon, and the balance in
whiskey, as far as their claim would stand it; which meant of course
about ninety-five parts of whiskey, with occasionally a dish of beans
for variety.
It was with the greatest pleasure that I wandered a few years ago
among the old ravines, across the flats, and through the cañons where
we used to mine, and to visit the old cabins or the places where they
used to stand, for the greater portion of them have gone to decay; but
there upon that point under the big oak tree you can yet see a few
decayed logs, all that now remains of a large cabin once occupied by
a company of boys from Philadelphia, who came around Cape Horn in the
good ship “Susan G. Owens;” while over there upon that bench above are
the remains of a cabin that was occupied in the fall of ’49 by a French
Count. He never spoke to anyone; neither did I ever see him smile; but
he worked hard in the ravine below and was always dressed in real Paris
style with plug hat, black dress coat buttoned up to his chin, and
wearing upon his feet a pair of cloth gaiters.
Around upon that flat yonder, by the spring, you can still see the
outlines of a miner’s cabin. The lower part of the chimney is yet
standing, and that great flat stone was the door step. That cabin was
occupied in ’49 by a company of young men from Providence, R. I., who
came around the Horn in the bark “Floyd.”
There at the foot of the hill, you can now see the remains of an old
cabin built by some boys from New York City; while a little further
down you can see the remains of an old chimney which was built of
flat stones. This was occupied by the Russell, Chase and Gibbs boys,
a delegation from Nantucket. Crossing the creek, and going up that
ravine, you will see the remains of numerous cabins; the first one
perched upon that bluff above was occupied by a few boys from Maine;
another one further up, was the home of a company from Massachusetts.
The latter came through the Straits of Magellan in a small schooner
named the “Emily Bourne,” and the Captain was taken prisoner by the
Indians at Patagonia, but finally escaped. The sites formerly occupied
by the cabins of the old Forty-niners are undergoing great changes, for
the grounds where many of them once stood are now being covered with
fruit trees and vineyards.
Up on that rocky point now covered with grape vines was the site of a
cabin occupied by Tompkins and three others, who were passengers in
the ship “Areatas” from Boston. Just below them was located a cabin
occupied by Rowland, Hayden and Moore, passengers in the schooner “John
Alyne,” from Massachusetts. A walk up Oregon Ravine would bring to
view upon the flat to the right, and upon the side hill beyond, the
remains of numerous castles, built and occupied by the Forty-niners.
One in particular, at the time of my visit among them, was yet
standing; and for nearly twenty years this ancient edifice, erected
at a great sacrifice of mental energy, and occupied by the writer and
three others, passengers of the ship “America,” was desecrated to fowl
purposes, being used for a hen roost.
Down there, below the spring near the creek, you can yet see the
remains of an old chimney and a level spot, where in ’49 stood a
cabin in which were domiciled three or four passengers who came from
Panama in the good ship “Niantic,” the old hull of which is now lying
beneath a large building at the corner of Clay and Sansome streets,
San Francisco. A little further down on that gravel bench stood the
cabin of a few of the boys who came out in the bark “Diamond,” the old
hull of which was moored to the levee in Sacramento City for more than
twenty years subsequently and used for a storehouse.
If you would follow that trail for a short distance up the ravine, you
would see the remains of the chimneys, and a few old, decayed logs, all
that now remain of two cabins, one sheltering a few young men from the
State of Kentucky, the occupants of the other hailing from Indiana, and
all of them fought under Taylor in the Mexican War. They came across
the plains, arriving in Hangtown in September, ’49.
You see yonder, on that rocky point among the trees, the few decayed
logs of an old cabin. You observe also that a portion of the old
chimney is yet standing, for ’twas built of rocks, through which the
nimble flap-jack often flew, to be caught again at the door. This cabin
was occupied by a number of Boston boys who came around the Horn in ’49
in the staunch ship “Capital.”
A walk up through that cañon beyond will show you also the ruins of
many pleasant homes, but in many cases only the sites which they
occupied are visible. These were all occupied by gold seekers from the
New England States, who had come around the Horn.
[Illustration: RUINED CASTLES OF THE ’49ERS.]
Upon that level spot to the right two men from Connecticut made
their homes throughout the fall and winter of ’49-’50, with nothing
to shelter them from the rain but an old wagon cover. They were
industrious, out at work early in the morning, and generally the last
to quit work at night. During the time which they worked in the mines,
which was a little less than a year, they never struck what was termed
a rich pay streak, but only what was termed an average paying claim or
wages. Yet Scoville and Davenport, which were their names, took home
with them in the fall of ’50 something like $11,000 apiece, as the
express agent afterwards stated, thus proving that industry, even in
mining, is the main thing in luck.
You observe away up that ravine a level spot now covered with trees. If
you take the trouble to walk up that way, you would see a few old logs
and the remains of an old chimney, being all that is left now of the
once pleasant home of two young men from the city of Baltimore. They
arrived here early in ’49, and found that ravine very rich. Starting
for their native city in November of the same year, they took with
them, as stated at the time, about $20,000 apiece, but in the course of
a few weeks they returned to the mines, wiser perhaps, but poorer men,
having spent their money, as one of them explained, in the study of
natural history at one of the gorgeous and inviting gambling menageries
in San Francisco. As I have before mentioned, they resided in that
cabin for many years but finally left for other mines.
Just over yonder, on that level spot at the foot of the hill, now the
Chinaman’s garden, was the cabin of Dr Wakefield with his wide-awake
wife, hailing from the State of Connecticut, and she had the whole
field to herself in one respect, at least. She furnished the miners
with the regular, old-fashioned mince pies that they had been
accustomed to eating in their Eastern homes, and at a price too which
no one could cavil at, it being for pies plain $2 each, sugared upper
crust 50 cents extra. Whether it was owing to the healthy nature of the
pie material, or from the fact that the lady herself never ate any of
her own pies, perhaps will never be known. At any rate, she is at the
present time in good health, and a resident of the city of Oakland.
In the lower part of Hangtown, and nearly opposite to where the foundry
now stands, was the cabin of John Cook, and his wife was the first
washerwoman in Hangtown.
Just below them, on the bank of the creek, was the cabin of the two
Russell brothers, from the city of New York, who returned home in
December of ’49, taking with them about $12,000 each, which they took
from Oregon Ravine.
On the opposite side of the creek, upon the side of the hill, could
[Illustration: THE FRISKY FLAPJACK.]
be seen for many years the remains of an old cabin that was built and
occupied in September, ’49, by a company of pilgrims who came around
Cape Horn in the good ship “Mayflower” from New Bedford, Mass.
Up there by the bank, on the opposite side of the creek, was the old
log cabin in which lived Uncle Ned Keegen, and he continued to occupy
it for many years, at the present time living with his family on the
same spot.
Nearly opposite, on the flat, was a more pretentious residence: a
costly edifice, and an illustration of the expensive habits of the
Forty-niners, being constructed of shakes and pine poles. In this were
domiciled A. F. Bee, his brother F. A. Bee, C. C. Batterman and others,
who came around Cape Horn in the ship “Elizabeth Ellen,” from New York.
During a walk down Weaver Creek, we saw the remains of the old building
used by Darlington as a store in ’49, and upon the flats and points,
as we passed along down the creek, we noticed the remains of numerous
chimneys, which are the indications of the former existence of cabins
that were occupied by the Forty-niners; and a short distance below
the village of Weaverville a few years previously could be seen the
old decayed logs and chimney of the cabin in which resided Mr. Frank
Pixley, now editor of the _Argonaut_, San Francisco, who engaged in
mining on the creek. A short distance below, the remains of an old
chimney were seen that belonged to a cabin which was occupied by three
or four Nantucket boys, who came around Cape Horn in the good ship
“Fanny.”
In following down the creek, the old decayed logs and ruins of ancient
chimneys could be seen upon various points and flats that were used as
homes by the Forty-niners; while near Cold Springs, there upon the side
hill, is plainly visible the remains of a cabin erected in ’49 by W.
Salmon & Co.
Over there upon that point, those old logs and fallen chimney is all
that is left of a store owned by Sturgess & Hill, which was the first
store, I believe, that was started at this camp.
I might continue in describing the present appearances of the pleasant
homes of the Forty-niners, located among the ravines of the mining
region; but the reader in imagination can see scattered around about,
upon every available spot, the ruins of what was once the pleasant
abode of this now almost extinguished and forgotten race.
But what an interesting book that would be to the Forty-niner, if we
could read the history of each and every one of these old Forty-niners,
the former occupants of all these now decayed log cabins; to read
of the success of a portion of them, as well as of the defeated
expectations of the greater number, and of the present condition, where
living, and of their final success or failure in life. And although
no doubt such a history would show us that but a small proportion of
those old-timers who are now living have achieved success, or who are
at least at present in the enjoyment of it, yet it cannot be doubted
but that the desire or wish would be unanimous to live over again the
scenes and incidents of the past, and to experience once more the
exciting pleasures and expectations found only among the mountains
of the mining region. Oh, yes, one would answer; if we could only
know what we have since learned in relation to gold mining; but such
knowledge would break the spell and utterly destroy all interest, since
the charm not only in seeking for gold, but in all other human affairs,
consists more in the anticipation than in the realization.
There is one fact in relation to all of these old cabins, which were
built and occupied by the Forty-niners, which may be of some interest
to mention. In early mining days the conveniences for storing and
taking care of gold dust were very poor. It being plentiful, the
miners were very careless in handling when engaged in drying and
cleaning it, which was usually done upon an old shovel or an old pan.
The consequence was that much of the fine dust was scattered among
the ashes or around upon the floor. The small buckskin sacks, also,
in which each one usually carried about with him for present use a
quantity of fine dust, were of poor quality, and through the seams of
them fine dust would work its way out.
The discovery was made by some inquisitive prospector, in the spring
of ’53, that the most of these ancient castles would pay to pan out,
as well as the ash heaps in front of the door, and one enterprising
prospector, previous to the fact being generally known, bought up
a number of them, from which he realized quite a sum. From one in
particular, that I remember, which was a large cabin and had been
occupied by a number of miners who had rich claims, he realized the sum
of $600 from the dirt scraped up from under the floor and the fire
place. These old cabins were hunted for among the various cañons and
ravines (for it must be remembered, as I have previously explained,
that this portion of the mining region around Hangtown, as well as
Coloma where the first mining was done, was worked out, and was almost
entirely deserted by the spring of ’54), and they all paid well; the
amount cleaned from the floor and ash heap, as a general rule, giving
some indication of the success of their former occupants.
Many of the old-timers, when starting out for the new discoveries in
the spring of ’50, not wishing to be encumbered with their gold, and
for fear also of losing it, would in such cases bury it somewhere
around the old cabin beneath the floor or stones in the fireplace, or
in some other locality, until they returned. Some of these hidden tin
cans were afterwards found, and there is no doubt but that many of them
are yet remaining securely hidden among the rocks, or beneath the roots
of some large tree; for a portion of the miners never returned to the
old mining camp, having died perhaps in some other part of the mining
region. In other instances as of those who did return, two or three
years afterwards, perhaps, they had forgotten where they had buried
their gold, and searched for it in vain.
I remember the case of one old miner in particular, who, previous to
starting out upon his prospecting expedition, took the greatest pains
to bury his can, containing several thousand dollars worth of dust.
And he did it in a very scientific manner: measuring so many yards due
north from a certain stump; then so many yards due west; then so many
to the right, and so many again to the left, etc., burying his can at
the last point of measurement. Of course he made a chart of all this in
true surveyor’s style; but unfortunately for him he lost the chart, and
the old stump was gone also. So, after digging and prospecting around
for more than a year to find where that last point of measurement was,
he was finally compelled to give it up, and the can yet remains hidden
only a few feet below where that last little peg was stuck into the
ground.