The gold hunters of California

Front matter

Copyright^ .

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT.

4* a

Chapter II

Prominent Citizens of San Francisco in 1852-3 — Banks, Newspapers, etc. — Marysville in 1854 — Mining and its Development from 1849 to 1860 — Some Big Strikes Made and Some Failures — The Largest Nugget Found in California by W. A. Farish and Partners — My First Trip to Virginia City. . . 27

Chapter XVI

Chinese — Their Arrival, Use and Effect Upon the Country — Conclusion 240

INTRODUCTORY.

While gold has been responsible for much evil in the world, it has been the propelling force that has marked the most brilliant epochs of human progress. When Israel was a world power, she owned or controlled the land of Ophir, from which her wise King Solomon drew the gold to build and beautify the temple.

The gold and silver dug from the mines of Europe and Asia created the schools of art, philosophy, and literature of Greece and Rome.

The treasures of North and South America for centuries pouring a golden stream into Europe raised the curtain of the dark ages, ended the night of brutality, ignorance and superstition which enveloped mankind and ushered in the morning of a day, the noonday splendor of which we of the twentieth century now enjoy.

The advance of the human race, during the last fifty years, in all the fields of art, in mechanics, commerce, science and religion is due to the opening of the gold fields of California and Australia.

The stars and stripes was first raised in California above Sutter's Fort near the present city of Sacramento in the fall of 1846. Fremont's command, and Stephenson's regiment and Commodore Sloat's Marines conquered the state, and it became American territory

8 Introductory

upon the close of the Mexican war in 1847. On the 24th of January, 1848, in digging a sluiceway at Sutter's Mill, at Coloma on the American river in the upper Sacramento Valley, James W. Marshall found yellow particles that were soon proven to be gold. The men of the valleys scattered over the hills and mountains, and gold placers, rich beyond the dream of avarice were found to be generally distributed through the northern part of the state. The news electrified the world. 1849 witnessed a mad rush to the new gold fields from all parts of the earth. Sailing vessels sailed in scores from New York, Boston and other ports for San Francisco, around the Horn, and thousands from the southern and western states took up the weary six months trudge across the plains, defying the forces of nature and the more dangerous savage, in a wild desire to enter first the new Eldorado. Ships on arrival were abandoned by their crews. All was excitement. Hardy prospectors crowded into the diggings, nothing dismayed by the dangers awaiting them these soldiers of fortune braved all in their eager search for gold; in their success they laid the foundation of civilization on the Pacific deep and strong in the mortar masonry of true Americanism.

In 1847 San Francisco was a port of entry for the North Pacific whaling fleet, a few huts scattered over a sandy beach housed a population of a few hundred. Her only exports were hides and tallow. A transformation came with the opening of the gold fields.

The Pacific Mail Steamship line was established

Introductory 9

from New York via the Isthmus of Panama to San Francisco early in 1850.

In 1851 the Nicaragua route was opened by Commodore Vanderbilt.

In 1S49 the government created a naval and military station at Benicia and there was a question as to whether Benicia or San Francisco would be the future metropolis of the Golden West. The incoming tide of immigration settled the question in favor of the latter and so one of the greatest of modern cities had its beginning.

The name California was taken from a Spanish romance published in 1521, which was very popular when lower California was discovered by a lieutenant of Cortez in 1534.

THE GOLD HUNTERS

OF CALIFORNIA

Chapter I

In the little town of Macon, Tennessee, twenty-eight miles from the city of Memphis, I was born. My father was a merchant and lost his fortune through the decline of cotton, in 1848, when, on account of the French Revolution, that important staple was sold in London for less than it originally cost in Memphis. In the spring of 1849, having decided to try his fortune in new fields, he bade farewell to home and family, and, in company with his brother and nephew, joined the army of emigrants for far off California. It was a long, tedious and dangerous journey, in those days, and the party was six months on the road. Father wrote us regularly until he passed Santa Fe, New Mexico, after which we did not hear from him again until a long half-year had passed away. The anxious months of this weary waiting can be safely left to the imagination; the reality can hardly be described.

During this interval ocean communication had been established between New York and California, via Panama, by which we received a letter from father,

n inclosing a draft for a sum which, I well remember, to his impoverished family, seemed a fortune indeed. Before the close of the year, 1851, my father had completed arrangements whereby his family was to join him in the new home he had prepared for them in the far west.

He had begun business there, on the Yuba River, by selling pies, which had increased to a wholesale general merchandise establishment in Marysville, California.

If all families were like ours, as to members, there would be little danger of "race suicide"; there were six children, I the eldest and my brother the youngest, eight years my junior. We started from Macon and reached Memphis on the first day of January, 1852.

Memphis at that time had a population of eight thousand, and furnished a place where was marketed all the cotton produced in the surrounding country. Not a railroad then entered the city; all transportation in and out was by boats or wagons.

We remained at Memphis until the middle of January, when we took passage on the steamboat "Empire" for New Orleans. The fare for that three-days-trip, including meals and stateroom, was ten dollars.

To a boy who had never been beyond the scenes surrounding home, such a journey was fraught with constant and wondrous interest and change. Every mile brought to view a new surprise. The splendid country homes of the southern planters, as they appeared upon the banks of the "Father of Waters,"

are still vividly impressed upon my memory. The spacious houses with their wide verandas, surrounded by trees and flowers; the broad, well-gravelled walks stretching to the river banks, all indicative of wealth and plenty, created a most lasting impression upon my young mind.

New Orleans, with its population of some hundred thousand, seemed a veritable world within itself. Its immense levees covered with bales of cotton as they were discharged from hundreds of river boats, thence transferred to the power-houses to be compressed to one-half the original bulk, ready for shipment on the larger ocean steamers and ships; its motley crowd of white and colored laborers; the old French quarter with its narrow streets; the St. Charles Hotel, a large building four stories high, and seeming to me an enchanted palace; the old French Market where fragrant coffee was sold, and where the American Indians displayed their curious wares — crude needle-work, leatherwork, feather- work and unique baskets — for sale; and myriads of other novel sights gave me a new and marvelous impression of the great, wide, wonderful world and the life that lay before me.

Rev. McCoy, a Presbyterian minister, accompanied us from Macon. We had been intrusted to his care and he was to see us safely landed in San Francisco. Father had procured and sent us through-tickets from New Orleans to that city, yet, on account of the rush of travel, we were unable to obtain passage before the tenth of March. About dusk of that eventful day we started aboard the "Falcon," an old, rickety boat, that to-day would not be permitted to leave her wharf. We passed through the streets of New Orleans, the minister and my mother in the lead, with six youngsters trailing behind, — I the tallest, the others gradually diminishing in stature,— we formed a procession that excited both curiosity and comment. I will never forget the exclamation of an "old colored Mammy."

"Afoah de Lawd sake!" she cried, throwing up her hands in astonishment, "does all dem chillun belong to dat one ooman!"

An incident that somewhat incensed my mother, who felt indignant at the presumption of the negro to make comment at all, in hearing of the passers-by; but which very much amused my boyish fancy.

A heavy storm upon the Gulf made the passage a severe one. In common with almost all the passengers, I was sick for ten days, the time required to reach Aspinwall. The railroad had then been completed from Aspinwall as far inland as Bueno Soldado, on the Chagris River, and was the first railroad I had ever seen.

From Bueno Soldado, up the Chagris River as far as Gorgona, the passengers were transported on boats owned and conducted by the natives. When we alighted from the train at Soldado these boatmen were as noisy and importunate as are the cabmen of the New York stations, or of Market street, San Francisco of to-day.

The natives were dark, half -clad, and, to the uninitiated, without attraction. I shall always remember the look and gesture of disgust and repugnance with which my mother rejected and repulsed the offers of a tall specimen of the country, too airily clad for decency, who insisted upon escorting her party to his boat.

The boats were poled along the river and we reached Gorgona about nightfall. Next morning our party started for the city of Panama, a trip of fifteen or eighteen miles. This distance was traveled on the backs of native mules, animals not much larger than the common burros of New Mexico and Arizona^ I do not recollect any settlements or attempts at farming on the Isthmus at that day. There was a profusion of tropical trees and undergrowth with an abundance of oranges, bananas and cocoanuts; while myriads of monkeys and bright-plumaged parrots made the woods resonant with their screams and chattering. After leaving Gorgona the mule-trail was, in part, over a rough country and an old road that must have been traveled for centuries past; for, in places down the hillsides there were steps worn several feet deep in the solid rock.

At Panama we were shown the old forts of Morgan, the pirate and buccaneer.

This was a quaint old city even then; primitive and unchanged for three hundred years, or since the Spanish occupation. It was without wharves, so that vessels in the bay had to ride at anchor more than a mile from the town. Passengers for these vessels were carried on the backs of the natives, over a space of perhaps two hundred yards and placed in small boats which conveyed them to the larger ships. We found several thousand Americans there awaiting transportation to the new Eldorado, so that every sailing craft was readily chartered immediately upon arrival in port and loaded to its full capacity with a cargo of human freight. The recent rush from Seattle to the Klondyke reminded one of the crushing and crowding into the steamers and sailing vessels in the harbors of Panama in those early days.

After a two days' rest at this place we boarded the Pacific Mail Steamship, " Northerner/' for San Francisco. Her capacity was limited to carry five hundred passengers; upon this occasion she had seven hundred and fifty in the steerage, alone, and two hundred more in the cabins. Every available nook and corner was crowded with human beings. The profits of this boat were enormous. I remember, boy though I was, hearing the purser say that the ship would, on that trip alone, clear a sum sufficient to construct a vessel new and complete. The cost of cabin-fare from New Orleans to San Francisco was three hundred and seventy-five dollars; to which must be added fifty dollars for transportation across the Isthmus of Panama.

The weather was very warm. Under the main deck the atmosphere was stifling. The tables and floors of the dining saloon were utilized for beds. And

James W. Marshall, the Discoveker of Gold.— Page 8.

after dark, all the decks, both fore and aft, were covered with human beings trying vainly to sleep.

Hard-tack and " salt-horse," potatoes and thin coffee constituted a meal for the steerage passengers. Those in the cabin fared better, though their tables were far from being first class.

The steamship company evidently recognized and appreciated the fact that a harvest was ready at hand and were not slow to seize the opportunity to gather

it in.

A wonderful company was collected aboard that boat! Young, ardent, enthusiastic, adventurous and gay. Few on board above thirty years of age and few below eighteen. Almost all were men. Not many women went West in those days.

A more jolly, expectant crowd one could hardly

find.

Fully impressed with the stories they had heard of the extent and richness of the new gold-fields, toward which their own faces were now turned; buoyant, impulsive and full of life, not a cloud arose to darken the horizon of their sky. To all, hope whispered the same enchanting tale:

"A few sunny months, at most a few short years, spent in washing gold, then a return to home, sweethearts and wives, laden with a rich competency for all life to come," were the thoughts with which she filled each breast. Or,

"Jim Jones, Bill Smith and others had returned with their golden 'piles/ why should not fortune smile on me?"

In the steerage groups of men could be seen any time studying some old map of California and such exclamations as this were often heard:

"Now, here is Murphy's Diggings, where Zeke Wilson struck it rich. He said he made from twenty-five to fifty dollars a day there, and there was plenty left. I am going right there myself."

Another would point out some other mine, whose rosy allurements drew him from his childhood's home. And many more.

All these days Ambition soared aloft. How many of these young, ardent hearts were doomed to disappointment; how many realized their dreams; or how many afterwards became useful and prominent men in the life of the Golden State; how many returned to the homes they had left, are questions I cannot answer here. But that they represented the true American spirit of push and enterprise, endurance and ambition, are truths so patent that none will deny.

On the eleventh day of April, 1852, the " Northerner" passed safely through the famous Golden Gate. As she glided proudly into the majestic bay, the beautiful peninsula of San Francisco lying to the right, pretty islands dotting the waters around, and stretching to the left, the inviting lands of Contra Costa — where now lies the city of Oakland — all, heightened by the blue sky and glorious sunshine of California, were enough to inspire the heart and arouse the enthusiasm of the most sluggish natures known.

Our ship was made fast at Pacific Wharf. The bustle and confusion that ensued, the noise and pertinacity of the hotel-runners, while not so great as on Market Street wharf to-day, were quite exciting and vociferous enough to satisfy the demands of the time and to fully gratify the expectations of a boy like myself.

The crowding and curiosity to see the newly arrived eastern-folk were about like one finds now in Sonora, Mexico.

San Francisco in 1852!

What a straggling, primitive town it was! But much grown and changed since four years before.

Previous to the discovery of gold in California, San Francisco w T as only a calling place for whalers, and a port from which skins and hides were shipped. A few rudely built houses, no streets, no wharves. Nothing, except its magnificent harbor, to mark it as the place that was to become the future great metropolis of the Pacific Coast.

But at the time of the landing of our party improvement and civilization had obtained a strong foothold. I still remember walking up to the old Rassette House, on the corner of Sansome and Bush Streets, where now stands the Cosmopolitan Hotel. It was a plain wooden structure, in the rear of which rose a sand-hill fully seventy-five feet high.

Even then the city claimed a population of ten thousand souls. Sansome on Commercial and Clay Streets touched the Bay.

The Niantic and Tehama, popular hotels of the time, on these streets were built upon hulks of old vessels. The streets were not graded but could boast of rude, plank sidewalks in front of most of the buildings.

Rats, by millions, infested the city, and seemed to constitute the principal live-stock of the place. After dark these pests became so venturesome one had to kick them from the sidewalks as he proceeded down the streets.

Wholesale houses were already established on Battery, Sansome and the eastern side of Front Streets. Many of these establishments occupied by importers and jobbers, were built upon piles which rose above the Bay.

William T. Coleman & Co., J. H. Coghill & Co., and Arrington & Co., were the principal grocers. Kelly, Janson & Bond, the leading dry-goods jobbers. The harbor was filled with the hulks of old vessels, which were used for the storage of merchandise.

On Montgomery Street, south of Pine, there was no building; in fact, there was nothing on this street south of California Street. On going south from that street one waded deeper and deeper in the sand-hills. Across Market Street was what was called " Happy Valley." Still farther south, Yerba Bueno, which had been utilized by the earlier settlers as a burying ground.

The old Mission Church was reached by a horseback ride from Montgomery Street.

All the land beyond Taylor Street, not covered by sand-hills, was used for growing potatoes. For many years the Mission potato of San Francisco was famous throughout the state of California. Long Wharf extended from Sansome Street, on Commercial, to Drum Street. The river steamers left this wharf for the interior towns of Stockton, Marysville and Sacramento. To Marysville freight was thirty dollars per ton, to Stockton twenty dollars and to Sacramento ten. A steamboat would, by its profits in this trade, pay for itself in one month. Commercial Street, from Sansome to Montgomery on either side, was lined with Jew clothing stores, — " Peter Funk Auction Stores" they were called.

Great crowds would gather in front of these places in the evenings, where the auctioneers, mounted on counters, would offer their goods for sale. Sometimes beginning with some small article, such as a pair of woolen socks, at, say, a hundred dollars, then rapidly descend in price to, perhaps, seventy-five cents, when with the exclamation:

"I will never take a cent less," the bidders would be notified that the bottom price had been reached. And so the entertainment and sales would go. It was a busy scene. The street for the entire square crowded as it was with clamorous customers, the vociferous auctioneers making noise enough to deafen the ears, if not to interest all passers-by.

A hundred venders of patent medicines could not successfully vie with them.

Baths, in those days ; were two dollars. To get a shave and make a complete toilet would have required a full pocket-book, did one indulge in such luxuries as often as good taste required.

One or two French restaurants were in operation, with meals at two dollars and fifty cents, the lowest price. Numerous other restaurants, the principal ones being Aldrich's and Winn's, — the latter noted for his hot-cakes and golden syrup.

Beef, game and fish were abundant. The sea-gull rookeries, of the Farilones supplied the market with gull-eggs, which sold for one dollar per dozen.

Hens' eggs were worth almost their weight in gold.

I remember a couple of young men recently landed from Tennessee, dropped into Aldrich's for breakfast one morning. Not being aware of the rarity, and consequent prices of eggs in California, and having five dollars still left with which to pay for breakfast for two, calmly ordered their usual breakfast of eggs and toast. When the bill was presented the young gentlemen saw, to their consternation, that the amount was ten dollars. They had only five, what was to be done ?

After a consultation together it was decided that one of them should remain while the other should go out to look for Colonel Gift, an old time friend whom they knew to be in the city.

The Colonel was soon found, who, after hearing the story of his young friend and asking who was with him, inquired what they had had for breakfast.

"Eggs," was the reply.

"Eggs! Eggs!" exclaimed the Colonel. "Did you not know, you blankety-blank fool, that hens lay gold in California?"

"I did not, but I do," said our young friend.

"Well," continued the Colonel, kindly handing over a fifty dollar gold slug, "take this and remember, after this, that you are not in Tennessee, where eggs are given away."

In those clays San Francisco did not lack for places of amusement in the way of gambling halls. Chief among them was the old Eldorado, a large building on Kearney and Washington Streets which afterwards became the Hall of Records. The "Eldorado" was a typical western palace of amusement of that early time; being a gambling house, with all kinds of games played by all kinds of people.

Gold coins of five, ten, twenty and gold slugs of fifty dollar values were not uncommon, while actual pyramids of gold bars were piled high on the tables, oftentimes representing in value, many hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Games were unlimited. Bets from one thousand to five thousand dollars, on a single card, were not infrequent. The largest bet of which I ever heard was made and won here.

A man, by the name of Moore, had been betting and lost over and over, sums aggregating several thousand dollars, on the game of faro. Finally as he turned to leave, the dealer asked:

"Are you through?"

Moore halted, hesitated, then turning and taking from his pocket a key, held it up and said:

"I will bet you everything in my safe, which this key unlocks, on the ten."

"How much is in your safe?" inquired the dealer.

"I do not know, but it is a large sum. If you win take the key, open the safe and secure all the money you find there. If I win, we will go to the safe together, count the money and you must cover the amount," was the answer.

The challenge was accepted, the bet made and Moore won something over forty-seven thousand dollars.

Along the side of this gambling-room was a bar about forty feet long, where drinks were sold. Eight bar-keepers were required to supply the customers.

Old John Kelly, the violinist, was employed at one hundred dollars a night to furnish music for the room. The old fellow would rattle off the 'Arkansaw Traveller," in his own inimitable style, step down from his place, take a drink then go on with some other as familiar or melodious tune; again descend for another drink and so continue till the atmosphere was a strange blending of whiskey and music.

The boys, touched by some reminiscent chord sent forth by the old musician's hand, to show their appreciation of his skill would treat and re-treat old John until he could drink no more.

The main floor of this gambling-hall, a space of fifty by a hundred and twenty feet was covered with tables. On the second floor it was the same, but frequented by a more exclusive set. All kinds of men were to be found here; men who had followed all kinds of occupations.

One, who was engaged in running a faro-table, I remember, was pointed out to me as having once been a Methodist preacher. Younger sons of noble families, graduates from English, Scottish and American institutions of learning jostled against the most lowly sailor, mechanic and longshoreman; lawyers, doctors, merchants, and some prominent in historical affairs, elbowed their way among desperados, cut-throats and petty thieves. A motley crowd, gathered from all quarters of the globe, mingling here in one common mass. Gamblers were the aristocrats of the day; the only men who wore "biled" shirts.

Chinamen were a familiar sight, in those days as well as now, on the streets of San Francisco. Almost every day one could see a crowd of them, with their bamboo-sticks across their shoulders, loaded with burdens at each end, composed of their belongings, trotting along to the river boats, making their way into the interior.

Chinese were the only servants to be had. Being deft and quick to learn, they were often employed in domestic service, for wages ranging from seventy-five to one hundred dollars a month.

It was amusing to note that the first thing a Chinaman usually bought for himself, after arriving in America, was a pair of boots; the largest size he could possibly get; perhaps a number eleven or twelve, padding his feet with rags to make them large enough to fill the boots. The reason for this was, that in China, only mandarins are allowed to wear boots, the size of the boot indicating the station of the wearer. So, it was with great pride that the poor cooly, when once in free America, donned this insignia of distinction, the clumsiness and weight seeming as nothing when compared with the satisfaction he felt in wearing the boots.

Chapter II

After being in San Francisco about a month, I found employment with Cooke & Le Count, wholesale and retail book-sellers and stationers. Cooke had been a newsboy in New York and managed to cross the Isthmus by the first steamship in 1850, carrying with him twelve hundred copies of the New York Herald, his only capital.

In one hour after landing he had disposed of all his papers at one dollar each.

This enabled him to set up in business and establish a flourishing concern.

The firm did a large retail and wholesale business in newspapers, books and stationery. Steamships arrived and departed bi-monthly. Every steamer arriving brought them papers by the thousands from the Eastern states and England. These sold at retail at twenty-five cents a copy; and at twelve and a half cents wholesale. San Francisco papers would issue a steamer edition for each out-going steamer, which they sold to the dealers for twelve and a half cents per copy. On each " steamer-day " Cooke & Le Count would sell over their counter, of these, from one thousand to fifteen hundred copies

Nothing was retailed at less than twenty-five cents. A lead pencil, a dozen steel pens, and other like articles, twenty-five cents each. A book costing seventy-five cents would easily bring two or three dollars, and so on through the list of retail articles. Wholesale profits readily averaged one hundred per cent. Profits in all lines of merchandise were equally large.

The firm of Treadwell & Co. was doing a large hardware business. L. L. Treadwell, the founder, sailed from Boston in " Forty-nine," coming around the Horn. Some one credited him with twelve half-barrels of apples. When he landed in San Francisco apples were in demand. He readily sold out the stock at a dollar and a quarter a pound, which gave him a start, and he amassed a fortune.

Sam Brannan was then reputed to be the largest real estate owner in San Francisco. His income was said to be ten thousand dollars a month from rentals.

It was said that he joined the Mormons in Utah, in 1847, and was made their treasurer. The Church and Brethren handed over their funds to him as treasurer in the name of the Lord. He gathered up the coin and suddenly left Utah for parts unknown.

After making a trip to the Sandwich Islands he returned as far as San Francisco, where he invested the money of the Saints in real estate. The Mormons, it is claimed, sent a delegation from Utah asking for a return of their deposits. Brannan informed them that all the money he had belonged to the Lord, and whenever they presented a duly authenticated check from the Lord he would honor its payment.

Halleck, Peachy, Billings & Park was the largest law firm in San Francisco, at the time. John Halleck, a "West Pointer," was the head of the firm. He was afterward prominent in the Civil War, as the director of military events from Washington. Peachy lived and died in San Francisco. Fred Billings returned to his former home in New England. He became prominent in railway circles; and was one of the founders of the Northern Pacific Railroad. Trainer W. Park, a Bostonian, settled in New York city, and became identified with large industrial and financial enterprises leaving an estate of many millions of dollars when he died.

Every member of this firm obtained his start in California between 1851 and 1856.

The principal papers in San Francisco, then, were the "Alta Calif ornia," a Whig paper edited by Ed. Gilbert, who, not long afterwards, was killed in a duel; and the San Francisco "Herald" with John Nugent editor. Nugent was a bright man, a New York Irishman, always dressed in the height of fashion, wearing a nobby hat and affecting a dandy cane, he seemed almost out of place among the bustling, whirling, stirring, badly dressed seekers after fortune that composed the citizenship not only of the city of San Francisco but of the state at large.