TENNESSEE’S LETTER FROM TEX--THE WAR IN CHILI GULCH--SAM BROWN AND THE
CHAP WITH THE MILD BLUE EYES--SAM BROWN AND THE POLICEMAN--OLD KENTUCK
AND SLEEPY BEN.
Another little incident took place on board of the steam ship
“Illinois,” that is worth relating, continued Tennessee “because Tex
bossed the job. When we first went down to the dinner table in the
steerage, we found that there wasn’t any sugar on the table for our
coffee; Tex thought that very strange, and turning around to the ship’s
steward, who was standing in the door of the pantry, inquired of him
if there was any sugar on board? ‘Oh, yes sah’!’ replied the colored
steward, ’there’s two barrels of white sugar here in the pantry sah;
but dem is fo’ the cabin sah.’ ‘Well’ says Tex; ‘we must have some of
that sugar here in the steerage, for we have all paid the price of our
passage, and are just as much entitled to the use of that sugar as the
cabin passengers are, and if you don’t bring it out in two minutes we
will go and help ourselves.’”
So the steward immediately locked the pantry door, and sent word to
the officers of the ship that there was mutiny among the passengers
of the steerage. In a few moments Lieut. Smith with a guard of six
marines armed with cutlasses descended into the steerage and demanded
to know what the trouble was. Tex replied that there was no sugar upon
the table, and as there was plenty of it in the pantry reserved for
the cabin, the boys had concluded that they were as good as the cabin
passengers, and therefore demanded some sugar. And without meaning to
show any disrespect to the officers of the ship, sir, yet we must have
some of that sugar, and we’ll give the steward five minutes to bring
it. If he doesn’t, then we shall be obliged to get it ourselves. The
officer then ordered the guard to arrest that man, which they started
to do, but as they advanced toward Tex with drawn cutlasses, a hundred
of the old
[Illustration: “NOT MUTINY, BUT SUGAR.”]
Forty-niners surrounded Tex, and gave the officers to understand that
it wouldn’t be safe to attempt the job. Captain Herndon was immediately
summoned and drawing his sword demanded of Tex in a very threatening
manner if it was his desire to raise a mutiny on board of his ship?
Tex replied in a very calm and quiet manner, oh, no, not by any means
Captain, for we are not that style of men at all. We are a lot of
Forty-niners on the way to the East to visit the old folks and to see
our girls, and have no desire to raise a mutiny, but we are simply
trying to raise some sugar.
Captain Herndon took a good square look at Tex right in the eye, for
about a minute; then he ordered the guard to go upon deck, sheathed his
sword, and walking round to the other side of the table where Tex was
standing, laid his hand upon his shoulder, and with good nature beaming
from his eyes said:
“Then all you are trying to raise is a little sugar is it, sir?”
“That’s all, Captain, said Tex in a very quiet and polite way.”
“Well, remarked the Captain and you shall have it. Steward divide that
sugar with the boys in the steerage,” and then shaking hands with Tex
and a few others, he went upon deck.
Some one asked if Tex was yet alive and where he was; and Tennessee
replied that Tex returned to his native State about twenty years ago;
bought a ranch somewhere in the northern part of the State; went and
got married, and settled down for life. He continued by saying that he
heard from Tex occasionally, and said he; “The last letter I received
from him was only a few months ago. I have the letter with me now, and
if you would all like to hear what Tex has to say, I will read it to
you.” Upon all present expressing a desire to hear the letter read,
Tennessee took it from his pocket and read as follows:
* * * * *
“CALIFORNIA RANCH, JONES CO., TEXAS, }
“September 25th, 1887. }
“DEAR OLD PARD:--
“Returning home, after an absence of about three weeks, from Galveston,
where I had been with a drove of cattle, I found your letter awaiting
me, and you can imagine the pleasure we all enjoyed in again hearing
that you are in good health and still continue in the old business of
mining, with fair prospects ahead of you, and we sincerely hope that
your fullest expectations may be realized from your silver mine up
in Cœur D’Alene. My family are all in the best of health and my two
oldest sons are now of that age to be of great assistance to me upon
the ranch. This, as you know, is quite a pleasant country in which to
settle down for life, and we are all reasonably contented. For this
reason, I ought not to complain. Yet this is not California, by any
means. Although having a pleasant home, yet I am continually thinking
of the happy years I spent in California, and with a desire to make
that my future home, which I certainly would do if I could dispose
of my property here. You tell me that great changes have taken place
in some portions of the mining regions. That in many places our old
piles of tailings have been levelled down; the places where we mined
filled up again and planted with fruit trees and grape vines, and also
that pleasant homes can now be seen among the hills where formerly
all was desolate and dreary, and where in the opinion of all of us at
that early day no reasons were known why they should not so continue.
You tell me in your letter that the old-timers are fast disappearing,
and that not more than 500 or 600 are at present living in the mining
region. This fact I am sorry to hear, although ’tis what must be
from the nature of things expected. If circumstances are such that I
shall not be able to sell my property here and remove with my family
to California, I shall, at any rate, make you a visit, perhaps next
winter; if not, then the winter following, for I tell you, Pard, there
is no spot upon the face of the earth more dear to me, except my home,
or filled with such pleasant associations than the mining regions of
California, and a residence there of fifteen or twenty years unfits a
man for a residence in any other portion of the Union, or, in fact,
anywhere else. When I come we will get Yank and Jeff, if we can find
them, and start on a prospecting tour around among the old camps, where
we mined in early days. We will go to Mokelumne Hill, then over to
Angel’s camp, then up through Jackson in old Amador, and then we’ll
strike onto our old trail up past Duncan’s store and pan out a few pans
on the MacCosmy (Cosumnes). Then, if we have time, I would like very
much to visit Chili Gulch, over in Calaveras County, that historic
spot, where you remember the Chileans captured the Kentucky boys. Then
we’ll strike on to the old trail up through Fiddletown, where we’ll
find, I think, a few old-timers; then along up through old Hangtown, in
Eldorado County, where you tell me that fifty or sixty old Forty-niners
are still hanging out. We’ll prospect around up Cedar, Oregon and
Spanish Ravines, take a look over in the big cañon and at that rich
spot we struck at Poverty Point. We will lay in a fresh supply of
provisions from Coleman’s store, if he is yet in business in Hangtown,
lay in a few mince pies from Doctor Wakefield’s wife, under the hill,
and continue our prospecting across the South Fork, up through Coloma,
Georgetown, Spanish Flat, up on around Forest Hill and vicinity, where
the boys used to roll the dust out by the million. And if we have time,
Pard, we’ll visit Nevada, Rough and Ready, Squaw Hollow, Last Chance,
and all other camps and river bars where we used to prospect in early
days. And I tell you that such a trip, for me, would give me more
pleasure than a journey through the Holy Land or any other portion of
the earth’s surface. Give my best respects to all old acquaintances
that you run across in your wanderings, and please tell them for me
that from a residence of about twenty years among the mountain ranges
of California I acquired that trait of hospitality which is peculiar
to your State, and if any of them should ever chance to visit this
portion of the country, they will always find the latch-string hanging
outside the door. Don’t forget, either, what I have before mentioned to
you, that when the storms of adversity strike you too heavy, or if the
bed rock in the diggings is inclined to buck, and the claim don’t pan
well, we have an extra room prepared and ready; an extra chair at the
table, also, always ready for my old Pard which he is welcome to occupy
the balance of his life. My family join in sending their respects, and
hoping to hear from you soon again, I remain, as ever, Your old Pard,
“TEX.”
* * * * *
Tennessee having finished reading the letter, and after each one had
given his opinion in relation to the kindness and noble qualities of
the writer of it, it was suggested that they all unite in drinking to
his health. The toast from old Mike upon the occasion being:
“An’ now, me b’ys, here’s a long life, hilth and prosperity to our
ould comrade, Tex, an’ may the b’ys who are now afther drinkin’ to his
hilth be able to mate togither yearly for the balance ov ther lives an’
repait the same operation, be jabers.”
Three cheers were then given for Tex, while old Mike was not forgotten.
Tennessee was asked if he was acquainted with the particulars of the
incident that occurred in Chili Gulch referred to by Tex? He replied
that he was, as he got the whole account of it from Kentuck, who was
present and took a part in the affair:
[Illustration: “IT’LL BE OUR TURN NEXT.”]
“This Chili Gulch is a few miles from Mokelumne Hill and empties into
the Calaveras River. It was given this name because ’twas discovered by
a company of Chileans numbering about thirty, and they had worked there
for several months, and were taking out gold by the bushel. In the
winter of ’49-’50 a company of men composed of Texans and Kentuckians,
with a few from Arkansas and Missouri, numbering about sixteen in all,
camped near Chili Gulch, and finding that these foreigners were getting
more than their share of gold, concluded to drive them out and take
possession of these rich claims. They therefore posted notices in the
gulch ordering the foreigners to vacate within twenty-four hours or
suffer the consequences. But no attention was paid to the order for
the reason that no law had been passed by the Government to prevent
them from mining in California. And from this fact they inferred that
they had as good a right to mine as any one. The miners, finding that
they did not intend to leave, drove them out by main force and took
possession, not only of their mining ground, but also of their tools,
tents and even of some of their clothing. The Chileans went up to
Mokelumne Hill for assistance, but the officers of the law refused
to assist them. The sheriff did, however, in order to get rid of
them, give them a blank warrant with the privilege of filling it out
and serving said warrant in any manner they pleased. Armed with this
authority they went early in the morning and took the whole company
of miners prisoners, but unfortunately one Missourian was killed and
another one badly wounded during the affray. They tied the hands of
their prisoners, and driving them along in the road ahead of them,
started for the town of Stockton, distant about eighty miles. Kentuck
said ‘that they was jist the maddest set of men you ever did see, for
the idea of bein’ driv along the road like a flock of geese by them
d--d greasers, with their hands tied behind their backs, was terrible.’
“And said he, if we could only have got loose, we’d have killed the
whole lot of ’em.
“They told the greasers that they were playin the trump card with a
full hand and to make the most of it, for said they it’ll be our turn
next; and it came sooner than either party expected. They all stopped
at O’Neil’s station, about twelve miles from Stockton, for breakfast.
Now it happened that there were quite a number of travellers and
teamsters who had stopped there the night before and when they saw them
greasers drive in the boys for breakfast, they were not long in getting
acquainted with the particulars, and whether right or wrong made no
difference, for they were Americans at any rate. So they charged upon
them while they were eating their breakfast and bound every one of
’em. Now the scene had changed, and the boys around Chili Gulch were
astonished, a few days after, to see the American boys driving the
Chileans before them into camp, all tied in a similar manner as the
Americans had been. Kentuck said they gave them a fair trial, and
sentenced four of them to be shot. Of course they didn’t know which
ones killed their pardner, but it made no difference, to shoot about
four of ’em would fill the bill anyhow. And said he, the rest of ’em
left that part of the country in a hurry.
“‘Well,’ said I to old Kentuck, ‘I suppose that you and your company
staid there and worked out Chili Gulch didn’t you?’
“‘Oh well, yas we didn’t,’ he replied.
“And I asked him why not, as there was a good show after they had
driven out the Chileans.
“‘Oh yes,’ said he, ‘that was all right, and you see we did start in to
work, but found the climate so kind er sultry round thar, that we all
concluded to find a more salubrious clime further north.’
“I asked him to explain what he meant; and said he.
“‘A few days after we started in to work, some of the miners around
thar had a sort of a miners’ meetin’ one day, and so they come over
into Chili Gulch and stuck a paper up on a tree with some writing on it
for us to read, and so we did.’
“I asked Kentuck if he remembered what it said.
“‘Oh yas,’ says he, ‘I do, first rate, for I’ve got an awful good
memory. It said that if any of them fellers what driv out, and shot
them Chileans, was found mining over there in Chili Gulch, that the
miners round in them diggings would hang every derned one of em. Now
wer’nt that too sultry for comfort old pard, and wer’nt it time to hunt
for a more salubrous atmosphere?’”
Tennessee was asked if he was with Tex up in Tuolumne in ’56 or ’57, at
the time he had the trouble with Sam Brown.
“Oh yes,” he replied, “I was near there at that time, but there wasn’t
much trouble, anyhow. The way it was: you see some one had told Brown
that Tex made the remark, that it would be much better for the country
if Brown was out of it. This, of course, was enough for Brown, and
swearing vengeance he went on a hunt for the man Tex, and he found him.
Now Brown had heard of Tex, but never had seen him, for Tex was at work
down in the gulch and seldom went up into town; but one day he had some
business up at Mokelumne Hill, and Brown was informed of the fact and
started out to find him. Tex was pointed out to him, so Brown crossed
the street, and stepping in front of him demanded to know if he had
made such a remark which he repeated, at the same time placing his hand
upon his weapon.
“Tex asked, ‘is this Sam Brown? at the same time placing his hand upon
his gun.
“The latter answered that such was his name.
“‘Well,’ says Tex, ‘I did make that remark and meant it too, and
am willing to make the same remark again to your face, if ’tis any
accommodation to you, and now what are you going to do about it?’
“Brown took a good square look at that quiet, good natured blue eye
of Tex’s, removed his hand from his weapon, and remarked as he turned
to leave, ‘oh nothing’; some one asked Brown why he didn’t go for Tex?
‘Oh!’ says he, ‘I don’t want to quarrel with that man.’”
Brown was a noted desperado, a fine looking man, with long curly hair
of a sandy color; he was rather of a good natured disposition when
perfectly sober, but a demon when drinking.
It was said of him that he had killed in the short space of ten years
about a dozen men; but, somehow, he always got clear by pleading self
defence.
But his career ended in Carson Valley some time in ’63 if I am not
mistaken, when Vansickles, with a few others overtook him on the road
with their shot guns, and without the formality of a trial filled his
body with buck shot.
Jersey remarked that there was a good story told about Brown, the
circumstances of which occurred in some mining camp in the State of
Navada. Brown had butchered a man in self defence, as he usually
claimed, but the authorities thought otherwise and determined to arrest
him; but where was the officer who was willing to take his chances,
and make the arrest. An ex-policeman in San Francisco who had monkeyed
with that style of man, as he supposed, learning of the situation,
volunteered to make the arrest, and was tendered the job.
Brown was informed of the fact, and patiently watched for the coming
man. Upon the arrival of the stage into town containing the policeman,
Brown was at his post waiting to tender him a cordial reception, and as
the former opened the stage door to alight, Brown ordered him to remain
right where he was, and enjoy a ride at his (Brown’s) expense, and then
ordered the driver to take him away out of town, which he did.
Another old-timer asked Tennessee if he knew what had become of old
Kentuck and his partner, Sleepy Ben? The former answered that it was
never known what had become of them. They were either killed by the
Indians or lost in the mountains some time in ’54.
“You know that after they had worked out that rich claim in the winter
of ’49-’50 in Georgetown cañon, they went the next season up on
Murderers’ Bar, on the Middle Fork, where they did well. The following
season they commenced work on the river,
[Illustration: SAM AND THE POLICEMAN.]
but luck was against them and they were washed out for two seasons
in succession. In ’53 they went into the mountains on a prospecting
expedition, and returned in the fall with some of the finest specimens,
and the biggest, that you ever did see. They struck a rich cañon
somewhere at the north, and we all tried to find out where it was, but
it wasn’t any use, and it never has been found yet. Well, they started
in the spring of ’54 for their rich cañon, and that is the last that
ever has been heard of Kentuck and Sleepy Ben. It was very early in the
spring when they started, and the supposition was that they got lost in
the snow, and were frozen or starved to death.”