Good News for Johnson’s Ranch

We made a tortuous journey through the snow before we came to the headwaters of the Yuba river, where there were mules to carry us down to Johnson’s Ranch. . . . I stayed several days at the ranch, enjoying the comforts of civilization again, but I never could erase from my mind the sight of the dying people left behind at the lake. Mr. Johnson, a former merchant seaman, had built a substantial adobe building and was engaged in cattle raising on the Bear river.

Mary Murphy, survivor of the Donner Party disaster

Johnson’s Ranch figures large in California history. John C. Fremont and Kit Carson camped there. The Stevens-Townsend Party, the first to bring wagons over the Sierra Nevada, traversed the ranch. The U.S. Army had an outpost there at Camp Far West. It was a resting place and river crossing for many a pioneer and forty-niner.

And most importantly, it was the gathering place for the rescue parties that set out to retrieve the remnants of the Donner Party, and the first civilized dwelling-place that received the survivors.

And yet . . . how many Californians know where Johnson’s Ranch is? Who has visited it and seen the remains of Johnson’s adobe and the ford where countless wagons crossed the Bear River? Is there a monument there? Is it a state park? Or has it faded from memory?

Diseno of Johnson’s Ranch, probably by John Bidwell. Yuba River at the north, Bear River at the south.

There is a marker along Highway 65 in Wheatland, about 20 miles north of Roseville.

The ranch itself is still in private hands. Some archeological work was done back in the 1980s by Jack and Richard Steed (see their book The Donner Party Rescue Site). They located the site of Johnson’s adobe house, the Burtis Hotel, and the river crossing. But these historic sites on the ranch are still inaccessible to the general public.

That is about to change. Writing in Trail Talk, the newsletter of the California-Nevada chapter of the Oregon-California Trails Association, Bill Holmes reports that he has made contact with the ranch owner and ranch manager, and they are eager to have Johnson’s Ranch recognized as the important historic site that it is. Bill Holmes was primarily interested in locating the site of Camp Far West. Although known to be located near the still extant cemetery, the actual placement of the camp was in doubt. He believes he has pinpointed the location of the camp.

Will we be able to have a look ourselves? According to Mr. Holmes, “The next step in our written plan is to create, build and install interpretive panels for each historic site plus the trail itself. ” The property owner is interested in preserving the historic points of interest and making them available to the public, with parking and maybe even a museum. It’s an exciting time for Johnson’s Ranch and I hope someday soon to be able to visit it.

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Old Pairs of Jeans

You probably have a few old pairs of jeans in your closet. But probably not 125 years old (and if they are, they are worth a lot of money). Eight pairs of jeans were found earlier this year down in a mine in Arizona — three pairs of Levis and the rest a rival brand called Stronghold.

Why were they left at the bottom of a mine? It’s a mystery.

To read about this find and see more pictures, go to this article at RV Lifestyle.

These may not be the oldest Levis ever found. The Levi Strauss company first began making workman’s trousers in 1873. The Levi Strauss archive has a pair from the 1880s. But jeans from the 1890s are rare enough to make them collectable and museum-worthy and worth a nice bit of moolah.

How can you tell that the jeans are an early pair? There are a few identifying features:

–Donut buttons on the fly. Zippers weren’t in use yet. Donut buttons have a depression like a donut hole in the middle.

–Only one back pocket.

–No belt loops. The pants were held up by suspenders, which attached to buttons on the waistband.

–A cinching strap on the back, like you sometimes find on vests.

–The leather brand patch located in the middle of the back.

–A strengthening rivet at the crotch. This was later removed from the design when cowboys complained about the rivets getting too hot when they crouched around a campfire. (Ouch!)

These early jeans would have been dyed with plant-based, not artificial indigo. That makes them more likely to fade over time, but down in the mine they were well preserved.

If you are intrigued by old jeans, you can read more about the history of Levis at the Levi Strauss & Co. Heritage blog.

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Books for Christmas

Something they want,
Something they need,
Something to wear, 
Something to read.

I don’t recall that recommendation being around when my kids were little, but it fits my long-established philosophy of Christmas gift-giving. And as a librarian and devoted book reader myself, the last injunction was particularly important. Everybody needs a good book (or many good books) for Christmas!

So if you are shopping for books this holiday season, please consider my books as gifts for children or adults. You can find them on Amazon or at anchr.org. At the ANCHR website you will find a host of other titles about Northern California history. History makes great gifts!

There’s more information about where to buy and how to order my books on the My Books tab at the top of this page.

Happy holiday reading!!!

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California Emigrant Letters

Feather River, Sept. 29, 1849

Now I will tell you what we have done since we got here; we have worked eight days and have made $16,000 — we have had extremely good luck, are on the Feather River, and pretty well up at its head, about 600 miles from Sacramento City. This is no farming country . . . I would not bring a family here for any consideration, for many reasons too tedious to mention, but you will do well to leave your family and come yourself for I believe there is a fortune for everyone who will come and get it . . .

So wrote Robert and Charles Springer, forty-niners, to S.W. Springer (probably their father). The letter was printed in the St. Joseph Adventure newspaper on February 1, 1850.

Editor Walker D. Wyman collected letters that were sent home and printed in local newspapers, mainly from newspapers in Missouri. Newspaper editors were eager to print news from the goldfields, and many a letter written to parents and friends ended up being published in newspapers for all to read. California Emigrant Letters was published in 1952 — you can buy a used copy for around $10 or find it in many public libraries in California.

The book quotes from numerous letters and collects the extracts under such chapter headings as “Overland in 1849,” “Life in the Mines,” and “Law, Order, and Religion.” The letters are lively and packed with colorful detail.

What has broken loose in the States? [writes a resident of Ft. Laramie] About every five minutes during the day, a white top wagon with a pick-axe slung to its side, rolls in from the frontier, stops for a few minutes, while the driver, with the “want of gold” stamped upon his appearance, enquires for the shortest cut to California.

Not all forty-niners were as lucky as the Springer brothers, but all seem to agree that the gold was “inexhaustible,” a word that shows up over and over in the letters.

In regard to the extent and richness of the mines, there is but one opinion here, that is, that they are inexhaustible.

“M.M.” Missouri Republican, March 22, 1850

The labor attending digging is of the most unpleasant character, and well calculated to try a man’s constitution and see of what material it is composed. About the time the mines were first discovered, persons could, with but little labor, go along the margin of the river and make far more than they can now by laboring all day. The cream has been taken off, in short, yet there is an abundance, of gold here and will be for years.

Anonymous, Missouri Statesman, March 1, 1850

For the emigrant seeking advice on how to outfit himself for the overland journey, M.M. explains in his letter what kind of wagon to select (“new, or as good as new, and made of the very best timber”), how to select your team of oxen, what staples to pack (“125 pounds of bacon and 125 pounds of flour”), and how to cook beans. The letters were full of good advice to the emigrant, so that as one man wrote, they will not “be caught in the same snap I was.”

Not all the correspondents are men. A woman running a boarding house writes:

We have now been keeping house three weeks. I have ten boarders . . . We think we can make seventy-five [dollars] clear of all expenses, but I assure you I have to work mighty hard — I have to do all my own cooking by a very small fireplace, no oven, bake all my own pies and bread in a dutch oven, have one small room about 14 feet square and a little back room we use for a store room about as large as a piece of chalk.

Another woman boasts, “I have made about $18,000 worth of pies — about one third of this has been clear profit.” But it was hard work — she had to drag her own firewood off the mountains and chop it herself.

I’d love to see a fuller version of these kind of letters published anew. They are endlessly fascinating and full of the rich flavor of the Gold Rush.

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Hellacious California

What is a California prayer book? Would you drink tarantula juice? Would you go in for pedestrianism? What was the Egg War? Would you invest in a Patent Hydro Electro Magnetic Goldometer that promised to find gold and water? (Save your money.)

Find all the answers and more in this third book from California historian Gary Noy. Focusing on the vices of 19th century Californians, Hellacious California! tells “Tales of Rascality! Revelry! Dissipation! and Depravity! and the Birth of the Golden State“. If you like history that is both authentic and entertaining, this is your book.

Gary Noy digs deep into primary sources — letters, journals, memoirs, and early newspapers — to find the stories that bring the great bachelor party that was Gold Rush California to rip-snorting life. He has chapters on gambling, drinking, tobacco, dueling, entertainment, sports, and swindles. In the chapter on eating and dining he illustrates the difference between getting a meal at a stagecoach stop and dining in style at The Poodle Dog in San Francisco. Here is J. Ross Browne describing mealtime on the road:

At the first tinkle of the bell the door was burst open with a tremendous crash . . . The whole house actually tottered and trembled at the concussion, as if shaken by an earthquake. Long before the main body had assaulted the table the din of arms was heard above the general uproar; the deafening clatter of plates, knives, and forks, and the dreadful battlecry of “Waiter! Waiter! Pork and beans! Coffee! Beefsteak! Sausage! Potatoes!” . . . It was a scene of destruction and carnage long to be remembered.

If this whets your appetite, take a look at the book trailer for Hellacious California!

By the way, a California prayer book was a deck of cards. Tarantula juice, as you probably guessed, was one of the many names for liquor. Pedestrianism was the popular sport of endurance walking. The Egg War was the competition for murre eggs from the Farallone Islands. With chickens in short supply, food suppliers turned to seabird eggs.

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John Bidwell in 1850

One reason I like to write about John Bidwell is that he makes such a good lens for looking at the history of California. He was involved with many aspects of early California (politics, mining, agriculture, education), he knew everyone, he saved his letters and kept a journal. Information about Bidwell’s life is abounding, while such information can be hard to find about many other men and women.

An article by myself has just been published in The Diggin’s, the quarterly journal of the Butte County Historical Society. The genesis of the article was a short piece I wrote commemorating Bidwell’s participation in California statehood. When Congress passed and President Fillmore signed the act making California the 31st state of the Union, Bidwell was the man who brought the news and the documents to California.

sc 17336 John Bidwell photograph ca 1850

The more I looked into Bidwell’s activities in 1850, the more there was to see. He had just bought Rancho Chico and was working to establish a ranch. At the same time he was winding up his survey of Sutterville, seeking to get his land title confirmed, serving in the state senate, escorting a block of gold-bearing quartz for the Washington Monument to D.C., promoting statehood in the halls of Congress, and visiting family and friends that he hadn’t seen for nearly a decade. He seems to have done a little unsuccessful courting along the way too.

Daily Alta California September 9, 1850

In New York he had his portrait taken at Mathew Brady’s photography studio. He also had a daguerreotype done of Raphael, the Maidu boy he had brought with him as his valet.

Raphael

I have written before about the ladies he escorted back to California, Mrs. Maria Crosby and her daughter Mary Helen Crosby. For years afterward Helen Crosby Hensley loved to tell the tale of her blue silk umbrella and how it helped to safely bring the statehood papers to California. For my Diggin’s article, I was able to get a photo of the famous umbrella, which is in the Sutter’s Fort archives. It looks to be in fine condition for its age.

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November 6, 1841 — The End of the Journey

Saturday, 6th. Fifteen of the Company started for a Spanish town, called the Pueblo of St. Joseph (which is situated about 40 miles from Marsh’s) to seek employment.

Members of the Bidwell-Bartleson Party didn’t waste any time sitting around at Marsh’s rancho, relaxing and recovering from their long and strenuous journey. They were made of tougher stuff than we are.

They arrived on November 4th, and on the 6th half the men set out for San Jose to look for work. The other half of the men went back to the San Joaquin Valley to hunt for game. John Bidwell decided to stay at Marsh’s for the time being, keeping an eye on the Company’s effects, and doing some local exploring.

The men who left for San Jose soon ran into trouble. They were arrested two miles from the pueblo and spent six days in the “calaboose” before they were released. Because of the “Graham Affair” of 1840, in which a few Americans fomented a rebellion against the Mexican governor, the authorities were understandably suspicious of any uninvited Americans coming into the territory.

The adobe jail at Monterey. The one at San Jose would have been similar.

The November 6th entry concludes John Bidwell’s overland day-by-day diary. It is not, however, the end of the journal. Bidwell added several pages of “Observations about the Country” detailing the vegetation, climate, and resources of California, including wages and prices. He gives his opinion about the Mexican government and outline the route to California. In conclusion he writes:

To all my acquaintances and friends who may be in bad health I would recommend a trip to California. All whom I have heard speak of the climate as regarded their health say its effects have been salutary.

And now it’s time for me to take a little salutary break from blogging, but I will be back soon with some book reviews and more explorations of life in Northern California.

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November 5, 1841 — At Marsh’s

Friday, 5th. Company remained at March’s getting information respecting the country.

And resting, one hopes. After their arduous trek, they deserve a day of recovery.

Feeling that Marsh had treated them generously by killing an ox and a hog to feed them, and even grinding some of his seed wheat to make tortillas, the members of the company repaid him by offering him what few items they had to give. Bidwell says in his 1877 Dictation:

In return for the kindness extended to us, we opened our treasures consisting of cans of [gun]powder, butcher knives, lead, and various other useful articles and made the doctor what we considered liberal presents in return. I remember one of the party presented him with a case of surgical instruments. As for money, we had little or none.

The Marsh Rancho, showing the stone house Marsh built in 1853. Painting courtesy of the John Marsh Historic Trust

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November 4, 1841 — Hurrah for California!

Thursday, 4th. Left the river in good season and departing gradually from its timber came into large marshes of bulrushes. We saw large herds of elk and wild horses grazing upon the plain. The earth was in many places strongly impregnated with salt — came into hills. Here were a few scattering oaks — land appeared various, in some places black, some light clay color, and in other mulatto (between black and white) sometimes inclining to a red soil, but all parched with heat.

Finally we arrived at Marsh’s house, which is built of unburnt bricks, small and has no fireplace — wanting a floor and covered with bulrushes. In fact it was not what I expected to find; a hog was killed for the company. We had nothing else but beef; the latter was used as bread, the former as meat. Therefore I will say we had bread and meat for dinner. Several of our company were old acquaintances of Marsh in Missouri, and therefore much time was passed in talking about old times, the incidents of our late Journey, and our future prospects.

All encamped about the house — tolerably well pleased with the appearance of Dr. Marsh, but much disappointed with regard to his situation, for among all his shrubby white oaks, there was not one tall enough to make a rail-cut. No other timber in sight, excepting a few cottonwoods and willows.

After the skimpy rations of the past few months, the men hungered for fat meat, and the pork was welcome, even if it came in a beef and pork “sandwich.” Bidwell might have been hoping for bread too. But he had no complaints about the food Marsh gave them that first night.

You can tell from this entry that Bidwell is very interested in the potential of the land for farming — the quality of the soil, the lack of rain, the availability of timber.

Considering the glowing reports of California that Marsh had sent back east, Bidwell was surprised at the primitive conditions he was living in. A small adobe house with a dirt floor and no fireplace -– hardly what Bidwell had envisioned. He was accustomed to cooking over a fireplace indoors, but in California the cooking was generally done outside in the courtyard.

Marsh’s adobe might have looked like this, without the chimney. Reading Adobe, courtesy of Special Collections, CSU Chico.

“Cheyenne” Dawson contributed a vivid account:

So we had reached California — the first truly distinctive American emigrant train to do so. . . . We had expected to find civilization — with big fields, fine houses, churches, schools, etc. Instead, we found houses resembling unburnt brick kilns, with no floors, no chimneys, and with the openings for doors and windows closed by shutters, instead of glass. There were no fields or fencing in sight — only a strong lot made of logs, called a corral. Cattle and horses were grazing everywhere, but we soon found that there was nothing to eat but poor beef.

Marsh was very kind and asked us what we craved most. We told him something fat. He had a fat hog. This he killed for us, and divided it among the messes. He also had a small quantity of seed wheat that he was saving to plant. A part of this he had made into tortillas for us.

He told us that if we wished we could sleep in the house. This novel experience some of us tried, but we were much disturbed by fleas, and sick-stomached men crawling over us to get out. They had eaten too much pork.

Below is a map of John Marsh’s Rancho. The adobe is at the bottom, by the creek. Take out the big house in the center, the barns, and the garden to get an idea of what Marsh’s home looked like in 1841.

Map courtesy of the John Marsh Historic Trust

The journey was over, but the adventure would continue. John Bidwell was now embarking on a new life, the life of a Californian. He would spend the next 59 years in his new home state.

Two more brief entries will conclude the journal.

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November 3, 1841 — Almost There

Wednesday, 3d. We waited till Capt. B. came up, and all started for Marsh’s about noon; arrived at the St. Joaquin and crossed it — distance 13 miles — found an abundance of grass here. The timber was white oak, several kinds of evergreen oaks, and willow — the river about 100 yds. in width.

Now it is just a matter of continuing across the valley and the Coast Range for a few more miles. “Cheyenne” Dawson recalled:

The next morning, under the guidance of Jones and the Indian, we left the river we had been following [the Stanislaus], struck northwest, crossed the San Joaquin river, and camped on the further side.

They probably crossed the river about five miles west of Tracy. Then the next day they can continue northwest towards Mt. Diablo until they reach March’s rancho.

Mt. Diablo from the east. Photo by Jim Leek
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