ON A JURY.
Year after year, and term after term, the great case of Table Mountain
Tunnel vs. New York Tunnel, used to be called in the Court held at
Sonora, Tuolumne County. The opposing claims were on opposite sides of
the great mountain wall, which here described a semicircle. When these
two claims were taken up, it was supposed the pay streak followed the
Mountain’s course; but it had here taken a freak to shoot straight
across a flat formed by the curve. Into this ground, at first deemed
worthless, both parties were tunnelling. The farther they tunnelled, the
richer grew the pay streak. Every foot was worth a fortune. Both claimed
it. The law was called upon to settle the difficulty. The law was glad,
for it had then many children in the county who needed fees. Our lawyers
ran their tunnels into both of these rich claims, nor did they stop
boring until they had exhausted the cream of that pay streak. Year after
year, Table Mountain vs. New York Tunnel Company was tried, judgment
rendered first for one side and then for the other, then appealed to the
Supreme Court, sent back, and tried over, until, at last, it had become
so encumbered with legal barnacles, parasites, and cobwebs, that none
other than the lawyers knew or pretended to know aught of the rights of
the matter. Meantime, the two rival companies kept hard at work, day
and night. Every ounce over the necessary expense of working their
claims and feeding and clothing their bodies, went to maintain lawyers.
The case became one of the institutions of the county. It outlived
several judges and attorneys. It grew plethoric with affidavits and
other documentary evidence. Men died, and with their last breath left
some word still further to confuse the great Table Mountain vs. New York
Tunnel case. The county town throve during this yearly trial. Each side
brought a small army of witnesses, who could swear and fill up any and
every gap in their respective chains of evidence. It involved the
history, also, of all the mining laws made since “’49.” Eventually,
jurors competent to try this case became very scarce. Nearly every one
had “sat on it,” or had read or heard or formed an opinion concerning
it, or said they had. The Sheriff and his deputies ransacked the hills
and gulches of Tuolumne for new Table Mountain vs. New York Tunnel
jurors. At last, buried in an out-of-the-way gulch, they found me. I was
presented with a paper commanding my appearance at the county town, with
various pains and penalties affixed, in case of refusal. I obeyed. I had
never before formed the twelfth of a jury. In my own estimation, I rated
only as the twenty-fourth. We were sworn in: sworn to try the case to
the best of our ability; it was ridiculous that I should swear to this,
for internally I owned I had no ability at all as a juror. We were put
in twelve arm-chairs. The great case was called. The lawyers, as usual,
on either side, opened by declaring their intentions to prove themselves
all right and their opponents all wrong. I did not know which was the
plaintiff, which the defendant. Twenty-four witnesses on one side swore
to something, to anything, to everything; thirty-six on the other swore
it all down again. They thus swore against each other for two days and a
half. The Court was noted for being an eternal sitter. He sat fourteen
hours per day. The trial lasted five days. Opposing counsel, rival
claimants, even witnesses, all had maps, long, brilliant, parti-colored
maps of their claims, which they unrolled and held before us and swung
defiantly at each other. The sixty witnesses testified from 1849 up to
1864. After days of such testimony, as to ancient boundary lines and
ancient mining laws, the lawyers on either side, still more to mystify
the case, caucused the matter over and concluded to throw out about half
of such testimony as being irrelevant. But they could not throw it out
of our memories. The “summing up” lasted two days more. By this time, I
was a mere idiot in the matter. I had, at the start, endeavored to keep
some track of the evidence, but they managed to snatch every clue away
as fast as one got hold of it. We were “charged” by the judge and sent
to the jury room. I felt like both a fool and a criminal. I knew I had
not the shadow of an opinion or a conclusion in the matter. However, I
found myself not alone. We were out all night. There was a stormy time
between the three or four jurymen who knew or pretended to know
something of the matter. The rest of us watched the controversy, and, of
course, sided with the majority. And, at last, a verdict was agreed
upon. It has made so little impression on my mind that I forget now whom
it favored. It did not matter. Both claims were then paying well, and
this was a sure indication that the case would go to the Supreme Court.
It did. This was in 1860. I think it made these yearly trips up to 1867.
Then some of the more obstinate and combative members of either claim
died, and the remainder concluded to keep some of the gold they were
digging instead of paying it out to fee lawyers. The Table Mountain vs.
New York Tunnel case stopped. All the lawyers, save two or three,
emigrated to San Francisco or went to Congress. I gained but one thing
from my experience in the matter--an opinion. It may or may not be
right. It is that juries in most cases are humbugs.