San Joaquin County

Biographies


 

 

 

 

WILLIAM PAYSON MILLER

 

 

WILLIAM PAYSON MILLER.--It is probable that no other life recorded within the pages of this work presents so striking an instance of rising from the very bottom-most round of the ladder as does that of the gentleman whose name heads this sketch; and as Mr. Miller ranks among the leading business men and manufacturers of central California, while it is an undisputed fact that his entire career has been marked by the strictest integrity and most painstaking care in all his dealings, this sketch should be a lesson to young men, so many of whom are taught that honesty and success in business cannot go hand in hand. Mr. Miller is a native of Windsor, Maine, born October 8, 1825, his parents being Thomas and Jane M. (Pratt) Miller. His maternal great-grandfather, Taber, is said to have been the first banker in Portland, Maine. Our subject’s mother was born at Vassalboro, Maine, and was the daughter of Nathan and Mary (Taber) Pratt. Her father, who was born at Little Cambridge, Massachusetts, March 12, 1772, was a clerk in the Taber Bank before mentioned, and afterward a merchant. Her mother was also born at Vassalboro, May 11, 1783, and was a daughter of John Taber, the banker, and his wife Elizabeth, who were well-known natives of Portland. Thomas Miller, father of William P., was a native of Limington, Maine, and was left an orphan at the age of fourteen years, thus having to make his own way in life from an early age. His education was limited to reading and writing, but he was a hard-working, ambitious and sprightly young man, and if he had been a good financier would undoubtedly have become wealthy. He worked about on farms for Quakers until his marriage, and his wife, a daughter of Quaker parents, withdrew from the Society of Friends by her marriage.

      When Mr. Miller was but three years of age his parents removed to Vassalboro, and two or three years later to Palmyra, where his father built a house in the forest and cleared up a few acres of land. He next rented an old and better improved farm for about four years, and after that removed to Augusta. Our subject attended school only during winter terms, and in summer worked out on farms. At first he got twenty-five cents a day and his dinner, but afterward twenty-five cents and board. The father, not being a good financial manager, was working at this time by the day, never earning more than a dollar a day. Having a family of six children to support, his wages were of course insufficient, and all were compelled to lend a helping hand. Mr. Miller, however, has always considered the fact of his having been forced to help himself thus early as a great blessing all through his subsequent career. When he was about twelve year of age the family removed to Winslow, on a rented farm, and about four years later he went to work with an uncle, Thomas Partridge, to learn how to make wheels, the wood-work of light farm wagons, bodies set on leather thorough braces and wood axles. He afterward went to work in Vassalboro, with another uncle, Edward L. Pratt, who ironed the wagons for him. Later, Mr. Miller rented a shop in North Vassalboro, Maine, and engaged in business for himself, running the shop about two years. There, in 1847, he married his first wife, Phebe Y. Roberts, daughter of Dr. Roberts. She died September 17, 1849, leaving a son then nine months old. This son, Edward, grew to manhood, and is now a resident of San Diego. His wife’s death made Mr. Miller discontented, and he decided to move to California. He left home in the fall of 1850, $700 in debt.

      In after years, when he accumulated some money in his far-away Western home, he sent back and paid these debts. It was the best investment he ever made. He went to New York city, and there worked a few days, while waiting for the old ship Clarendon to load. On this vessel he paid $150 for a second-class passage, which secured for him a rough bunk between decks alongside the freight. A few, who took cabin passage, paid $250 for the privilege. Passage on the Flying Cloud, which left about the same time, was $400, but the latter vessel made the trip in seventy-nine days, while the Clarendon required 196 days, and of this time, on the Atlantic side, they were 100 days out of sight of land. Nothing of especial interest occurred on the voyage, and they sailed into San Francisco Bay on Saturday, the 6th of April, 1851, casting anchor on Sunday morning off Pacific street, where fifty passengers were landed on a small wharf. Among the curious who came down to see them land was one of three partners in a little saw-mill and wood-yard on Pacific street. This man had worked in the mines with a brother of one of the new-comers, and thus felt interested enough to invite all who desired to accompany him with their blankets to the wood-yard, where they could sleep on the chips. Mr. Miller, among others, was glad to avail himself of the chance, as his cash capital consisted of but $9, while he was not aware of a single acquaintance in the city. One of the partners in the little mill and wood-yard was a fine-appearing Southern gentleman--a physician--who kept the books and assisted about the cooking. At that time one could form no idea of the education or former position in life of men in San Francisco from what they were engaged in, for any ambitious man would then accept the employment affording the largest remuneration. Mr. Miller arose early on Monday morning after the first night on his bed of chips, and after eating his breakfast, consisting of bread saved from the regular allowance on shipboard, and water, he set out to look for work. He had been informed that employment would be scarce for a few weeks, as many were in the city from the mines, and business was dull, notwithstanding there were about 700 ships in the harbor. He inquired for work at every place where wheel righting was being done, but only repair work was then being turned out. He received all kinds of answers, but no encouragement at his trade. He then set about canvassing the entire city for a job of carpenter work, but for a long time with no better success. He had reached the upper part of the city in his canvass, and looking south saw a small church in process of construction, on the sandy ground not far from where the Palace Hotel now stands, though then there were but a few shanties south of Market street. He proceeded to the spot and found that a Mr. Johnson and another carpenter had the contract. He approached one of them, and upon asking if any more help was needed, received a sharp look, while the contractor proceeded to question him. He said they wanted a carpenter, however. Mr. Miller frankly admitted that he was not a carpenter, and said that he was a wheelwright and carriage wood-workman, though he had worked a little carpenter work, and thought he could give satisfaction if plain work was assigned him. His services were accepted, and he was told that his wages would be $6 per day, payable when the job was completed. Mr. Miller was then compelled to tell them how poor he was, and that he had not enough to live on, and was then promised $10 every Saturday night. This offer was gratefully accepted, provided they could wait until he got his tools from the ship, promising he would commence work in the morning if possible. He then went back to his acquaintances of the wood-yard, told him of his new prospects, and of his financial condition--that he had but $9 while the freight on his tool-chest was $10. He proposed to the wood-man that the latter lend him $5 and accompany him to the ship to get his tool-chest. He would then split wood for him the balance of the day, and leave the chest with him for security, only taking out tools enough to work till he earned money with which to pay the loan. This proposition was accepted. Early next morning Mr. Miller was at hand at the church building, and his first work there was shingling on the roof, which he had learned to do when a boy. About 9 a.m. it commenced raining, and shingling was necessarily suspended. He hurried back to his friend at the wood-yard, and offered to split wood for his meals. His offer being accepted he worked hard and effectively, for this was labor he had learned well how to perform when a boy. The following day he resumed the hammer at the church, and soon the shingling was finished.

      His next work was laying the floor of Georgia pine, all widths matched. The man working with him was soon let go, as his employers said they could see Mr. Miller was doing nearly all the work. The compliment was quite encouraging, as he was trying so hard to please and retain his position as a carpenter. When Saturday night came he received his $10 and at once went and paid the $5 he had borrowed, and after squaring up had a little left to live on the second week. Board at that time was from $10 to $14 per week for meals alone. One fellow passenger, from Lowell, a carpenter, and a good honest fellow, who was also without money, engaged a room with a little iron bedstead and one chair, promising to pay rent when he earned money. He found a few small jobs the first week. He and Mr. Miller bunked together. Water was sold from carts, and they paid ten cents for their first pail full. For the first couple of weeks Mr. Miller was accustomed to take for his dinner a loaf of bread (which cost twenty-five cents) and a little pail with water. When noon came he would go into a clump of bushes and eat his frugal meal. For several days he ate nothing but bread and water, and this was varied only by the addition, during the remainder of the time, of some syrup from a bottle that he and the Lowell man had purchased in partnership. Yet this was good fare in comparison with the allowance on the ship. One night he was so fatigued with his hard day’s work after the wearing sea voyage, that it was difficult for him to walk home over the little sand-hills. He could eat nothing that night, but went to a restaurant and paid twenty-five cents for one cup of tea. Next day he worked as usual.

      He was employed on the church until the job was nearly completed and drew something over $80. Then he was offered a job by his old friend, the wood-yard man, doing some carpenter work, at $7 a day. Mr. Miller agreed to accept provided he could leave whenever a job was open for him at carriage work with Smith & Wells, a Kearny street firm, with whom he had been negotiating. Three or four days later he secured the latter job and removed his tools and went to work. The next night a conflagration swept down Pacific street, and the owners of the wood-yard were compelled to make their escape on boats with only a few articles, everything else being destroyed. The next morning Mr. Miller met one of them, his friend, who approached him and said: “We are now poor, and cannot pay you the balance on your work.” Mr. Miller replied; “Never mind; if you find me poor some time when you are well-off, pay me; if not, let it go.” He then let the unfortunate man have tools to work in rebuilding the burnt district.

      While Mr. Miller was engaged in that shop the fires of May and June occurred. He worked there until August and then went to Stockton, his course in this matter having been brought about by mere chance. One day he happened into an auction store on Kearny street and there noticed a familiar face. He did not recognize the man at first, but soon placed him as John R. Corey, a carriage-maker he had worked for a few months at New Bedford, Mass. The acquaintance was quickly renewed. Mr. Miller expected to be out of a job soon, as his employers had charged such exorbitant prices during the fire times that their customers left them. Corey soon went to Stockton, and Mr. Miller wrote to him inquiring about work. When he got out of a job he remained only one day in San Francisco, then took a steamer for Stockton. Mr. Corey, who had a wagon shop on Channel street, went with Mr. Miller to a shop on the same street owned by J. W. Smith, and a job was at once secured at $7 per day. He worked for Mr. Smith until the following spring; and then, for $50 per month, rented a corner of his shop about twenty-five feet square.

      About a year later two blacksmiths from New Bedford, named respectively Skiff and Tucker, were looking for a location for a shop. The corner occupied by Mr. Miller and the Key lot were for sale, and he said to Skiff and Tucker; “if you will wait until I see the owner of these lots, I will purchase them, build a wood shop, lease you a part of the ground on which to erect a blacksmith shop, and then we can work for each other’s interest.” His proposition was accepted. He bought the lots from the Grand family and the buildings were constructed. While carrying on this shop Mr. Miller sold a freight wagon to Sam Foreman for $900, taking in part payment a note for $400. He turned that note over as part of the price of the lots--$1,100--and gave his own note for a part. In order to get money to put up a little balloon wood-shop, he borrowed $400 from H. M. Fanning, paying four per cent a month interest. During the first summer the shop had no floors or doors. A few boards were laid overhead, and there he slept. A man who worked for him was afraid to sleep there for fear of rolling off. He and the blacksmith worked by the arrangement previously mentioned for two years; Mr. Skiff sold out to Mr. Tucker his interest in the blacksmith shop and returned to New Bedford. Mr. Tucker carried on the business for about a year, then sold out the shop and tools to Mr. Miller. That was the foundation of his present splendid business.

      The splendid carriage-building establishment of Mr. Miller, located in Stockton, is a fitting monument to the life work of a noble-minded, honest man. It has a reputation second to no establishment on the Pacific coast, and is equipped with the best machinery in every department. This is a large manufacturing institution, where there is a place for everything and everything in its place, and kept as neatly almost as the home of a model housewife. There is no well-meaning citizen of Stockton or San Joaquin County but who is proud of Mr. Miller and his splendid carriage factory.

      Mr. Miller married his present wife in June, 1855. Her maiden name was Pamelia Tilton. She was born at Easton, Washington County, New York, and came to Stockton in December, 1853. They have one child, named Millie Louisa.

      Mr. Miller is a consistent member of the Methodist Church. All his life he has been a friend and follower of temperance, and was never in the slightest degree addicted to the use of either liquor or tobacco. Thus he has enjoyed the free use of all his faculties. He has been identified with the Prohibition party since its organization, and an active worker in its councils since the campaign of the county committee, which position he now holds. He was a Whig sympathizer in early life and cast his first presidential vote for Fremont, the first candidate of the Republican party. Being an Abolitionist by principle, he took an active interest in all movements tending to the freedom of the slaves, and by reading Lincoln’s speech to his young associates acquired the name of a “d----d black Republican.” He was a member of the city council in 1854, but has always held aloof from office. Mr. Miller’s parents died in Stockton, having come out here to spend their declining days with him, accompanied by his four sisters and one brother.

 

 

Transcribed by: Jeanne Sturgis Taylor.

An Illustrated History of San Joaquin County, California, Pages 263-267.  Lewis Pub. Co. Chicago, Illinois 1890.


© 2008 Jeanne Sturgis Taylor.

 

 

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