goldfields

The Pledge of a Temperance Man

Posted on October 8, 2021 by nancyleek

In Camp and Cabin with John Steele — part 5

After leaving the mining camp of “Mr. Lawson” (Peter Lassen), John Steele and his buddy John Donnelley started back to Downieville by way of the American Ranch, where they knew they could get food. I had no idea where American Ranch was, but my friend David Brown knows:

American Ranch was founded by H. John Bradley at the site of modern downtown Quincy. There is a plaque noting the location on Main Street. American Valley, the valley in which Quincy is located, recalls the ranch name. Accounts differ as to exactly when the ranch, which catered to travelers, was founded. Bradley had ambitions for the area akin to Bidwell’s, albeit on a smaller scale. He promoted the community which grew around the ranch and had a leading role in the partition of Plumas County from Butte in 1854 and Quincy becoming its county seat.

As a heavy snow storm came up, the men arrived at two over-crowded cabins. There was no room for them, but a kindly prospector gave them the use of a tent, where they could enjoy “the unusual luxury of sleeping with our boots off.” (p. 190) The storm continued through the night and by morning they awoke to find themselves under a snowdrift. They went to one of the cabins to see if they could get breakfast.

Some two hundred men were sheltering in this “unfinished hotel,” and it was noon before they could get their meal. For three dollars each in gold dust they got “a cup of coffee, a slice of fried bacon, and a piece of bread broken from a cake which had been taken hot from before the fire; but it was all delicious beyond expression.”

The storm continued for several days and some of the men had nothing else to do but drink. Steele encountered a drunk who insisted that he drink with him.

I tried to move away, when he exclaimed, “Hold on, you think I’m drunk, and are ashamed to drink with me, but I’ll make you do it”; and seizing a bottle, poured a quantity of liquor in two glasses that stood on the bar, pushed one toward me, and, at the same time producing a revolver, remarked, “There now, take that glass of liquor, or the contents of this pistol.” He evidently meant, drink or die.
“Wait a moment, “said I, “my partner can explain this.”
Donnelley was called. “Here is Mr. Donnelly, my partner; we crossed the plains together. He knows whether I ever drink with any one; now, Mr. Donnelley, did you ever see me drink with any one?”
“No sir, I never did.”
“Did you ever hear me give a reason for not drinking?”
“I’ve heard you say you were pledged against it.”
Now turning to the man, who had put up his pistol, I said, “A gentleman like you would not ask anyone to break his word.”
“Of course not, and here’s my hand on it.”
So we shook hands, and the affair was settled; but I was more than glad of being pledged against drinking. (p. 193)

A young man to make Annie Bidwell and Frances Willard proud. Young John Steele might have been a member of the Sons of Temperance, a fraternal society dedicated to abstinence.

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John Steele and Peter Lassen

Posted on October 6, 2021 by nancyleek

In Camp and Cabin with John Steele — part 4

On Saturday, February 1, 1851, John Steele and his friend John Donnelley left “Downie’s Diggings on Poorman’s Creek”, with the goal of hiking to Big Meadows to rejoin their company. Downie’s Diggings (not the same as Downieville) seems to have been somewhere between Downieville and Washington, which is on the South Fork of the Yuba River. Someone who is better acquainted with the area than I might know where they were and be able to trace their route.

One object in selecting our route and making our journey in this way was to obtain a general knowledge of the gold mines. We might have selected an easier way, but we wanted to visit the best mining region, and this took us across the spurs of the great Sierra Nevada. (p. 164)

They didn’t have much luck prospecting along the way, and they had only packed enough food for two weeks. The terrain was rough, with steep ascents and descents and icy rivers to cross. (Just imagine taking off all your clothes, so they won’t get wet, and doing a polar bear swim in February in the mountains.)

They worried that the natives would be hostile and did their best to avoid encountering Indians. By February 14 they reached Big Meadows, only to find that their company was nowhere to be found. Reluctantly and with hungry stomachs, they started back to Downieville. (On the map, Big Meadows was located where Lake Almanor is now.) It is roughly 100 miles from Big Meadows to Downieville.

Feather River drainage. By Shannon1 – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=46854411

Steele and Donnelley tried to stave off hunger by chewing pine bark. Soon they began to hear faint voices, or the clang of mining tools, but they couldn’t find any humans. After some hunting around, they decided the sounds must be an illusion.

However, in several miles we were surprised and delighted to find Mountaineer Lawson’s mining camp. There were several while men and Pah Ute Indians working a placer mine on the bank of the river. Coming down the river, we saw that when we had taken for the valley of the north fork of the Feather River was only a deep gulch, and the main stream, which we had visited above the Big Meadows, lay over the mountains toward the northwest. (p. 184)

Who was “Mountaineer Lawson”? It must have been Peter Lassen, who was famous as an old settler and pioneer who loved exploring the mountains. Contemporary sources often spell his name “Lawson,” because that is the way he pronounced it. Influenced by the spelling, we today pronounce it like “lass”, but that’s not the way he said it.

Lassen had set off to prospect for gold in the summer of 1850, and is known to have mined at Rich Bar, which was located on the East Branch of the North Fork of the Feather River. That’s where Steele and Donnelley found him.

From Mr. Lawson we obtained some flour and bacon, and in a few minutes I had a cake baking in one of their skillets. While waiting for the cake, Lawson, who was familiar with all that region, inquired of Donnelley about our journey, which was candidly described. Whereupon Lawson bluffly replied, “Don’t tell me any such stuff as that; I know that country; it’s not far from a hundred and sixty miles; you fellows never made that trip without eating.” (p. 185)

Sounds like Peter Lassen. Steele and Donnelley were insulted at “having our veracity questioned . . . and as we had already paid for the flour and bacon, refused to have any further conversation with him.”

The starving men had to pay for their flour and bacon! You think Lassen could have spared them a meal.

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Death in Downieville

Posted on October 2, 2021 by nancyleek

In Camp and Cabin with John Steele — part 3.

Map of the Yuba River. By Shannon1 – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=47084527

Leaving Nevada City in January 1851, John Steele and several other men headed over the snow-covered ridges, aiming for Big Meadows and the North Fork of the Feather River. They didn’t seem to realize that this was a crazy and dangerous thing to do in the middle of winter.

When the morning of our departure dawned, a misty rain made us hesitate until 10 a.m., and then, like a train of pack mules, we filed up the mountain. Besides our blankets, some extra clothing, rifles and ammunition, Donnelley and I carried a pick and a spade, pan for washing gold, frying pan, and tin cups; and bread, flour, and bacon enough to last two weeks. (p. 151-152)

Three days later they camped near Downieville, “a mining village at the forks of the North Yuba.” One of the men came into camp saying, “I reckon somebody has struck it rich down there, and covered up their prospect hole so as to hide it.” Curiosity impelled investigation.

California Gold Diggers. Bancroft Library

With picks, shovels, and pans, three of us accompanied him to the bottom of a deep, wild glen; not that we intended to “jump” any one’s claim, but as a possible clue to diggings above and below on this side of the river. There was no snow, and on the mossy bank of a rill could be seen the outlines where the ground had been broken; but the turf was so nicely adjusted that but few traces were visible.
Spading away the soft earth to the depth of about three feet, we found — not a gold mine, but that which made us start back in horror — a blue shirt sleeve on the arm of a corpse.
Gently the body was uncovered and raised to the surface; water was brought and, washing away the mire, disclosed the features of a young man, of probably twenty years; about five feet in height; dark brown hair; his only clothing a blue woolen shirt, dark brown pantaloons, and heavy boots.
His pockets were empty and there was nothing about him to reveal his name. Traces on each side of his head indicating where a bullet had passed through, were the only marks of violence upon his person. Evidently he had been murdered a few days since and his body concealed in this wild glen. (p. 155-56)

The men took the body to Downieville. No one could identify the murdered young man. He was buried there in Downieville in a nameless grave. Mournfully Steele contemplated the father, mother, brothers, and sisters who would wait in vain for the return of their loved one, never knowing his fate.

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In Camp and Cabin with John Steele — 2

Posted on September 30, 2021 by nancyleek

John Steele was a well-educated, Bible-reading, poetry-loving, and seemingly mild-mannered young man. But in the California goldfields a man had to be prepared for anything. Sometimes the answer to a problem was a pistol.

Once he and his friends had earned enough to buy their own tools, they went prospecting on their own and did pretty well, until Steele got sick. Weeks later, after his recovery, he went back to Nevada City to collect the back wages owed him by his first employer, a Mr. Dinkler.

Nevada City in 1852. California State Library

Dinkler turned out to be a slippery character.

When I quit work for Mr. Dinkler he paid me only part of my wages, saying, when he had time to wash the gravel, within a few days, he would pay the rest. Weeks had passed, and now, after three days’ failure to find him, I began to suspect he was trying to evade me. . . Again and again, when a time was set to meet him, where his workmen said he expected to be, he failed to appear. It was reported that though he had taken large quantities of gold from his mines, he would never pay a dollar if he could help it. (p. 146)

Finally Steele caught the elusive Mr. Dinkler early one morning at his mine. He claimed to not have the gold on him, and Steele countered that any shopkeeper would loan it to him. They went to a shop.

I explained to the merchant the circumstances, that I was about to leave, and would he not be so kind and obliging as to loan the money to Mr. Dinkler for a few days.
“Certainly,” said the merchant, “I could advance the money, but I believe he has it, and if he won’t pay you without trouble, he won’t pay me.”
This seemed to settle the matter and a look of satisfaction came over Dinkler’s face as he turned to go out. There was still another resort, and I resolved to frighten him into payment.
I sprang before him to the door, and presenting a pistol, with a loud voice ordered him to “Stop! Now sir, I’m going away this morning, but this matter must be settled first; you can pay it now, or never have another chance.”
His voice trembled as he shouted, “Don’t! Don’t shoot!” And springing to the counter, upon which stood scales for weighing gold, he drew from his pocket a large buckskin purse of the shining metal, weighed out the amount of my claim, and handed it to me. (pp. 147-48)

The drama and the shouting attracted a crowd of men, who gathered round and told Dinkler, “No, Fred, it’s your treat; you intended to cheat that boy out of his wages; now you shall treat the crowd; set out the cigars.”

And that’s how John Steele got his wages, and all the other men got their cigars.

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In Camp and Cabin with John Steele

Posted on September 28, 2021 by nancyleek

John Steele was eighteen years old when he caught a case of gold fever. He made the overland trek from Wisconsin to California in 1850. A diligent diarist, he kept a journal on the trail and during his three years in California. Much later in life he turned his journals into two books: Across the Plains in 1850 and In Camp and Cabin. The experiences he relates are typical of the gold seeker: adventure, tedium, peril, humor, and plenty of everyday detail. Join me as I highlight a few of Steele’s adventures.

It was late September when Steele and his trail mates arrived in California and passed through Nevada City, “which was little else than a row of canvas-covered houses on either side of the emigrant road in the valley of Deer Creek.” (Across the Plains in 1850, p. 224)

They had no money, tools, or provisions, and they were hungry, so they immediately began looking for work.

Having ascertained that wages, for those who worked in the drifts on Coyote Hill, were sixteen dollars a day, we felt happy at the prospect. Gold seemed to be abundant everywhere, except in our pockets, and we had faith to believe they would soon be replenished.
In Camp and Cabin, p. 120 (Lakeside edition, see below)

Steele could find no one to hire him that first morning. At noon he went to a bakery and bought a little loaf of bread “only a fair-sized biscuit.” The price was 50 cents and Steele only had 35 cents in his pocket, but the baker took pity on him. “Take the loaf; fifteen cents is nothing in California.”

The next day Steele decided to look for work in the deep mines. “In anticipation of immediate work, and of probably descending into some damp, cool shaft, I put on my wamus of striped bed-ticking, such as was then worn in the lead mines of Wisconsin.” Good move, as we shall see.

You can still buy a wamus. Here is a Universal Works Wamus Lightweight Jacket

And what is a “wamus”, I hear you ask. Not a word I am familiar with, but the dictionary definition is “a heavy cardigan jacket, loosely knit and belted, or a durable, coarse, outer jacket.”

Hearing a man say that he had just finished his shaft, and was redy to begin drifting, I applied to him for work. My boyish appearance was not assuring, and my sun-burnt face told that I had just arrived at the mines. He eyed me for a moment and inquired, “What do you want a day?”
“Just what you think I’m worth; in fact, I wouldn’t mind working for my board until I get acquainted.”
He simply said, “No,” and went on counting a pile of blocks for timbering. (p. 123)

Wrong answer. The next minute came another man asking for work, “a slender, sickly-looking man.” He said he wanted sixteen dollars a day and was hired. (Never undersell yourself.)

Approaching another shaft, which indicated readiness to begin drifting, I inquired, “Do you want a drifter?”
“Yes, what’s your wages?” “Sixteen dollars a day.”
“That seems pretty steep.” “It’s for you to say.”
“Where are you from?” “Wisconsin.”
Just then a stranger to us both chimed in, “When you see a boy from Wisconsin wearin’ them togs, he’ll do in the mines anywhere.”
“All right,” said the mine owner, “go to work and we’ll see how it pays.” (p. 124)

Wearing his wamus jacket, the uniform of a Wisconsin lead miner, paid off for Steele, although he had no mining experience whatsoever. From talking to miners he had learned something of the trade, and he successfully secured the timbers at the bottom of the shaft and mined it for three weeks. The mine paid out handsomely and the mine owner cheerfully paid Steele for his work. It was the beginning of his mining career.

(I am using the Lakeside Classics edition, published in 1928. Steele’s account is bound together with Echoes of the Past About California, by General John Bidwell.)

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William B. Lorton the the Goldfields

Posted on September 14, 2021 by nancyleek

It’s a shame that William B. Lorton’s California journals are lost. He was such a lively and candid writer — I am sure his tales of adventures in the goldfields would be a delight to read. Unfortunately they are lost in the sands of time.

We do get a glimpse of Lorton in northern California from the journal of another gold seeker — Dr. Charles R. Parke of Pennsylvania. Parke and his company had taken the northern route and arrived at Sacramento on September 15, 1849. They went north to mine on the Feather River and staked their claim “5 miles above Bidwell’s Bar and half a mile above Oregon Bar.” (quoted in Troubadour on the Road to Gold, p. 279.) They called their claim Union Bar; the location is now under Lake Oroville (or maybe not, with this dry year).

William Lorton arrived in the spring of 1850, as recorded in Parke’s diary, and met up with his cousin David Cairnes.

May 8. Dave Carns accidentally met his cousin today. He left Illinois last year in the Holt [Knox] Company train. Arrived in Salt Lake last summer, where they spent six weeks, sold their oxen, and bought mules and horses, and with a guide took the South Trail for California with one hundred horses. Thermometer today stand 90⁰in the shade.

Lorton had some good tales to tell.

May 15. Mr. Lorton (Carns’ cousin) entertained us today with many anecdotes about the Mormons.

And he hadn’t lost his musical talent.

June 8. Had some fine vocal music last night from Mr. Lorton, reminding me of home.

A week later some of the men went off seeking the fabled “Gold Lake” but failed to find that phantom source of riches. Parke, Cairnes, Lorton and the rest of the Union Bar Company built a dam to divert the middle fork of the Feather River. All their hard work yielded a poor return, so they left for Sacramento.

September 6. Left Feather River in August in company with Capt. Sampson and Wm. B. Lorton and came to this city where I have been loafing until a few days ago . .

Dr. Parke practiced medicine for a few months and then returned to the States. Lorton stayed on in California until 1853 or ’54, when (according to his obituary) he returned to New York City “with a handsome fortune.” He went into the business of making clocks. He planned to turn his journals into a book, but never completed the project. (Too bad!)

William B. Lorton died in 1893.

Here is a sketch he made of himself in the goldfields, all skin and bones and bushy hair.

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William B. Lorton in Salt Lake City

Posted on September 12, 2021 by nancyleek

William B. Lorton arrived at the Mormon community in the Salt Lake Valley on August 8, 1849. To visit Salt Lake City was a deviation from the Oregon-California Trail, but one that many took in order to trade goods. The Mormons (members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) had only been in their new settlement for two years, yet they had thriving farms and a growing population.

If Lorton’s company had pressed on, it was not too late in the season to cross the Great Basin and the Sierra Nevada mountains. But they lingered for over a month, recuperating their livestock and inquiring about the different routes. They considered over-wintering at Salt Lake City.

Brigham Young warned all emigrants that his people could not support any guests over the winter. He also predicted that anyone setting out for California by way of the Humboldt River would surely die along the way. And it is true that the California Trail was strewn with dead cattle and marked by the graves of pioneers, although many forty-niners made it through safely, if not easily. And then there were the tales told of the Donner Party. What if they made it across the desert, only to be trapped in the mountains?

Brigham Young urged Lorton’s company and others to instead take the southern route through Utah down to the Old Spanish Trail. He had his reasons — the Mormon settlers were in need of a year-round route to the ocean. So far only a couple of pack trains had made that trip — what he needed was a wagon road. He offered a trail guide to accompany them if they would take their wagons southward and break a new wagon road through to southern California.

August 14th. Never was I in [such] a delema before, or ever before struck so forcibly that it was necessary to do something, & that immediately. I now fancied I see the blues coming rappidly towards me, & the horrors grinning at me with a double row of teeth, & what makes it worse, everybody was in the same fix. No one knew what to do.
To cross the trackless desert [via the Southern Route] was burying yourself alive, & to go the Northern rout rushing in to a grave yard & riding over dead bodies. Word comes that the fort hall road is so lined with carrion that new rodes had to be made, & the stench so stifleing as to almost stop the breath, & so thick are they, you can almost step from one to another. The grass is nearly all ate up & thus alkali.
p. 175

A dilemma indeed! They can’t stay where they are, and either route could mean their deaths.

It wasn’t all gloom and indecision though. Lorton boarded with a friendly Mormon family and attended church meetings and concerts.

August 22nd. Have singing at sister Pratts & pritty girls.
p. 181

On September 24th Lorton bade farewell to his hosts and headed south to join several wagon trains that were planning to take the southern route. It was a long, terrible journey, arguably much worse than what they would have faced on the northern route. At last, in early January 1850, they arrived in southern California.

Lorton’s journal ends mid-sentence with the January 16th entry at Mission San Gabriel. The next volume is missing, so little is known of his adventures in California, a great loss.

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William Lorton and the “Stampede Company”

Posted on September 10, 2021 by nancyleek

William Lorton experienced more than his share of stampedes while on the overland trail. Difficulties with cattle continued to dog his company. On July 19th, while traveling along the Sweetwater river, they experienced three stampedes in one day. At noon he sat down to write in his journal (the spelling is his own):

While I wrote the above [about sage hens, antelope, and hares], sitting in the waggon at noon, a “stampeed” occurred. We halted at dinner upon a high hill. . . . We had all eaten dinner. Some were lying under the waggons assleep. Others set between the wheels & others in the wagons the same as myself. They say a saddle horse belonging to packers frightened them [the oxen]. The hind teams attached to wagons commenced & as quick as electricity they were all dashing down the steep hill.
Capt. Talors little boy was run over by waggon & oxen, another had a hand run over, another knocked in the head, another run over the leg, others knocked down, cattle became entangled in chains and wheels, axels broke, wheels passed over oxen, & 1 ox was dragged way down the hill under the box with feet up. He had a horn broke off & otherwise injured. Broken horns lay all around . . .
Troubadour on the Road to Gold, p. 141

And that wasn’t the end of it.

In less than 2 hours after writing the above we had 2 more “stampedes” 1 was caused by a dead ox laying beside the road. The other was caused by nothing at all. At night while caraling, we could hardly unyoke them & with difficulty & risk of life they could be held from stampeding the approaching teams.
p. 142

Wagons forming a corral by Independence Rock, with cattle going to drink in the Sweetwater

He wasn’t exaggerating when he said that it was “worth your life” to go into the corral. A heavy crazed ox is a danger to life and limb.

The next day the mood was somber.

July 20th. Long faces, under lips, grave faces, sorriful countenances, cross men, moody mannered & discouraged. A great many felt as if a curse had been put upon them. Hundreds of other comp [companies] have not seen a stampeed & nothing appears to frighten them, while our comp. is known along the whole rout by the [name of] the stampeed comp.
p. 142

It was a tough journey, but after this he doesn’t mention any more stampedes, so maybe the oxen settled down.

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Happy Admission Day!

Posted on September 9, 2021 by nancyleek

Don’t let September 9th go by without a salute to California, the 31st state of the Union.

To read about John Bidwell’s participation in the admission of California, both in Washington D.C. and San Francisco, see these posts: Bidwell’s Admission Day and Miss Crosby’s Blue Umbrella.

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Stampede! — William Lorton’s Journal

Posted on September 2, 2021 by nancyleek

William Lorton was a frequent witness of one of the most dangerous events on the prairie — a stampede. Anything could set the cattle off — a carcass, or lightning, or a dog barking — and sometimes it seemed like nothing at all would set them running. Here he is, describing a stampede on June 4th:

3 o’clock P.M., as I am standing or walking by the side of the wagon the cry of men, the noise of prancing cattle meets our startled ears. You turn & look & lo & behold the hind teams running towards us like magic & as quick as lightning the spirit of “stampede” runs along the whole train. I turn as quick as possible & find 4 teams within a few rods of me with scarcely room to escape. I pulled off my hat & succeeded in turning a team coming full split on our near side. They geed off & come come in contact with the hind part of our Ark [i.e., wagon] & [it] knocked them all down in a heap.
Did ever man think cattle could make such speed. All still a minute before & now all confusion, & none can give the cause.
On they come like a mighty avalanch toward us, chains rattling, wheels grating, wagons cracking, piles of oxen upon oxen. Men thrown down, cattle run over, & all in the utmost confusion. Our oxen are not backward in the chase. Takes it [the wagon] as quick as a wink, & the first thing known, they are off. We all run after it, but we might as well stop! for the fleetest steed could not out run these terrified animals.

When it is all over, surprisingly, only one cow was injured and had to be shot. All the rest recovered, animals and men alike, although Lorton says, “women were in some of the wagons & what must have been their feelings.”