THE
ARGONAUTS OF CALIFORNIA.
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CHAPTER XVI.
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 give 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,
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remarked after his return
from one of his excursions away north, at the time of the Frazier River
excitement:
“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
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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 Yukow 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 his 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
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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.
It is remarked throughout the mining
regions that these ancient
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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 the 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
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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 Gibb 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.
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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 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
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occupied are visible. These
were all occupied by gold seekers from the New England States, who had come
around the Horn.
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
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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 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
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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
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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 regions. 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
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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
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.
Transcribed by:
Jeanne Sturgis Taylor.
Proofread by Betty Vickroy.
© 2008 Jeanne Sturgis Taylor.
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