goldfields

Business was good for Edward McIlhany in 1851, with a store in Onion Valley and a ranch near Marysville where he could rest and feed his mules, and assemble pack-trains to carry goods to the miners in Onion Valley. But business got tougher in 1852; expenses were high and defaults by creditors were numerous. Ed McIlhany decided to quit the packing business. He sold his string of mules to four men who had come to California in the same Virginia company with him: Noblet Herbert, Robert Blakemore, and brothers Charles and George Cuningham.

Noblet Herbert was a great-grand-nephew of President George Washington. He was one of the men of McIlhany’s group that  went to the Shasta Mines, then to Bidwell’s Bar and American Bar, where their efforts to dig a race failed.

In the spring of 1852 he bought the string of mules from McIlhany. The two Cuninghams were otherwise engaged, and Blakemore decided to return to Virginia, so Herbert was on his own, packing with two Mexican muleteers who came along with the mule train deal.

And then in the fall of 1852 Herbert disappeared, and so did the two Mexicans. $3000 in gold was missing, the mules were  straying around, and the remains of the pack saddles were found burnt at a campsite near Butte Creek.

Daily Alta California, December 2, 1852

McIlhany got the word that Herbert was missing, and that “a train of mules, some twenty-five or thirty, had been running loose at Bidwell’s Ranch for some time and the mules were very fat and no one claimed them.”

I took the stage and landed at Bidwell’s Ranch. The Major was glad to see me. I asked him about the mules and he told me that such a lot of mules were there and had been for some weeks. I asked if he would have them driven up so I could see them, which he did. As soon as the mules came up I recognized them immediately, as I had owned them and the boys had put a plain brand upon them, every brand alike.

Bidwell explained to me that there had been a train camped about a mile from his place on a little stream [Butte Creek] where there was a cabin and some men living in it. I went down to see them and found that there had been a train of mules camped there . . . with a white man and only two Mexicans. One day they said that the men had disappeared, the mules were gone, and the camp with everything in it had burnt up.  (Recollection of a ’49er, pp. 149-150)

They searched for Noblet Herbert, and even dragged the creek, but nothing was ever found. It was a sad end for a young man who had come to California to make his fortune.

Ed McIlhany stayed for a few more years in California, but a string of bad business deals and lawsuits left him with little to show for his investment of time in the Golden State. In December 1856 he returned to the States and his family, who had moved from Virginia to Missouri in his absence.

In another story in Recollections of a ’49er ( 2006, edited by Scott Lawson), Ed McIlhany (who was not the modest or retiring type) tells another tale of derring-do on the trail:

The winter was nearly over and I got word from the boys [in Onion Valley] as soon as I possibly could to come in with a train of goods.

Ed put together his train of pack mules loaded with goods and started for the valley. Unbeknownst to him, his partners and the men at a rival store had made a bet about whose goods would get there first. He got to Little Grass Valley to find hundreds of mules lined up on the trail ahead of him.

The mules in advance of me had stopped because the drivers were afraid to undertake the crossing of the river and the valley. I remarked, “You better be careful how you bet, as drinks are high and it may cost you a good deal of money.”

McIlhany scouted out the trail, which was still mostly covered with snow:

There was a large tree that had been cut down and the log crossed the stream. It had been leveled off on top and then chopped across with an ax so the foot would not slip and some limbs left on the tree for banisters to hold on to. I examined the crossing carefully and found that on the opposite side 100 yards from the river I could see a little ground where the old path was.

He went back to his mule train, had his men tighten up the loads, and moved out.

. . . as the mules came up we let them take the log very carefully not to make a rush. They commenced crossing nicely. Most of the mules were over. I had one loaded with sheet iron [!!!]. She lost her footing and plunged into the river. I jumped in immediately, the boss following me, and supported the pack on either side and landed her safely at the ford, where she could get out easily.

The balance of the mules all landed safely across the log. Just then there was a tremendous cheer and the waving of hat at the ranch. (pp. 89-92)

Needless to say, McIlhany was first to reach the goal. He sold all his goods in a day and started back for more. And he won the bet. But that poor mule, loaded down with sheet iron!

Ed McIlhany packed plenty of flour, bacon, beans, and whisky in his day, but he also occasionally carried some very unusual items, as in the following story:

A man came to me in Marysville and wanted a large billiard table packed into Rich Bar on the North Fork of the Feather River. There was no wagon road, but I knew the route well. I made a bargain with him to pack the table there for him.

I loaded up forty-nine mules with flour and a large bay mare mule, one of my strongest and gentlest mules, to pack the billiard table. It was a large old-fashioned table. I unscrewed the legs from the table and I put two fifty-pound sacks of flour on either side of the top of the packsaddle, putting the table on top of the flour to balance it and lashed it tightly.

I finally reached the top of the mountain; the way then descended six miles down to the bar, with a winding trail. My men watched the mule carefully to see that she did not bruise the table, which was wrapped. I finally reached the store with the table. The mule was wet with perspiration and was trembling like a leaf . . .

He paid me $450.00 in gold dust for landing the table there safely. The table was put up immediately in his store, where he had both goods and a bar besides this table, and the boys commenced playing on the table at a dollar a game.

I packed with me my own bed and I slept on the ground at my camp, which was close to the store, feeding my mules on barley that night. I was up early in the morning and the men were still playing billiards and the proprietor told me that they had been playing all night. He said, “I will soon have that costly billiard table paid for.”

(Recollections of a 49er, 96-97.)

I am amazed at the strength and agility of mules. They can pack anything! And I’ll bet the man who ordered the table made his money back in no time.

When Edward Washington McIlhany went home to his family in the East in December 1856, he took with him a pack of stories to tell. From his Recollections it’s not hard to tell that he enjoyed recounting his adventures. Here is one of them:

Sitting around the campfire one night there were six of us concluded to try to kill a bear. We were all anxious to kill one. There was a very large pine tree that had been cut down about fifty yards from where the beeves were butchered. [They had butchered some beef cattle with plans to pack the meat to mining camps, and they knew the entrails would attract bears.]

The limbs had been cut off of this tree for fires. We made our plan; five of us, each with a rifle, were to get behind that log. It was arranged that I should give the word when to fire. It was a pretty night and very quiet. We got all arranged with our rifles pointing over the log, waiting for the bears to come.

Finally we heard them coming down the mountain. They were making a kind of growling noise. The hillside was not very steep. They came to the place where they had been in the habit of eating. They followed the scent of the entrails to where it was and they commenced eating.

There were three of them. Two would eat and one would sit up and watch; then that one would get down and eat and another one would sit up. I whispered to the boys that just so soon as another one stood up, I would give the word to fire. This was all done in a whisper. One of the men had a double-barreled rifle. Finally one bear sat up and I gave the word to fire.

The report was loud, but so closely together that it seemed that there was only one rifle discharged. Almost instantly all of us ran to this log cabin and climbed up on top of it. One man said, “What did you run for?” Others said, “We ran because you did.” The dog heard the shot and smelled the bear. He broke loose from his man and ran. The man, instead of running to the log cabin, climbed a tree that was close by and went up about thirty feet and was perched there, looking on. I remarked, “Boys, I hear that dog after the bear; we have crippled one. Let us run quickly and try to rescue the dog, as I would not have him killed for all the bear in California.”

We jumped off the cabin, grabbed a revolver or two, and one of the men an axe, having one rifle still loaded. We ran up the mountain 300 or 400 yards and found the bear and the dog rolling over and fighting together. The bear had the dog hugged up in his forepaws and we were afraid to shoot for fear of killing the dog. Thomas slipped up with his axe and gave the bear a blow on the head which stunned him. Another powerful blow on the skull killed him. I immediately examined the dog, and to my delight found that he was uninjured.

In our delight at having killed the first bear, we all took off our hats and yelled.

(Recollections of a ’49er, 70-71)

In the spring of 1850, after he had recovered from scurvy, Ed McIlhany relocated with his friends further up the Feather River at American Bar. They found a promising claim and decided to build a “race” to channel the water a quarter of a mile to their diggings. The weather was hot and the work was wearying, so McIlhany hired a substitute at $8.00 a day and went into mule-packing. He preferred being on the move.

We had to have goods packed into the camp from Bidwell’s Bar, and I told the boys that I intended to go to packing instead of working there. They agreed to get me to buy the goods and pack them into the camp, using several mules that belonged to the company. (p. 60)

McIlhany transported goods not only for his company, but for other miners along the river. He added mules and built up a successful packing business. Meanwhile his friends finished their race, and were ready to turn the water into it.

That night the dam broke, gave way, and everything went rushing down the river. The boys had worked so hard and faithfully, that they abandoned the idea of building the dam again and they broke up and scattered to hunt for different mines. (p. 64)

Some of them ended up at Rich Bar. They made a deal with McIlhany to pack supplies in for them, in exchange for a fourth interest in their claim. McIlhany bought supplies, loaded up his mules, and started out up the steep and rocky road to Rich Bar. By the time he got there, his friends were gone; they had sold their claim and moved on.

But McIlhany found that he could always make money packing in supplies to miners. Eventually he built a store at Onion Valley (about 20 miles south of Quincy) and went into the mercantile business, bringing up goods from Marysville.

By that time the mountains were getting full of prospecting miners, coming in by the hundreds, going in every direction, with packs on their backs and some with one mule pack.  (p. 67)

He knew that the prices of goods were high at Rich Bar so he decided to load up his six mules and make trip to Rich Bar.

My load consisted of twenty gallons of whisky in two ten-gallon kegs each. The other five mules were loaded with 250 pounds each of sugar, coffee, bacon, rice, and potatoes and a few other things. Very soon there were buyers to buy my goods. I sold the whisky for $16.00 a gallon, which brought $320.00. The balance of the goods I sold for $2.00 a pound which gave me about $3000.00 in gold dust. (p. 69-70)

McIlhany made $2000-$3000 in gold dust every trip he made with his mules, and he soon had a thriving business. Stay tuned for more adventures of Ed McIlhany!