Part 5

Lunger and Company sank a shaft on the Mountain Key to a depth of 90 feet and found very rich ore. They sold the property to General Boyle and a stock company was organized with John Boyle, Jr., as manager. The shaft was deepened to 470 feet, exposing large ore bodies. In 1890 when James Jackson, who later became a well-known figure in mining circles, went to work at the Key, there were three shifts working with 200 men employed on each. The company built its own mill down Bear Creek where adequate water could be piped from Mill Creek. Two dams were built across Mill Creek and besides utilizing the water for the mill, in the winters ice was cut on the ponds and stored in an ice house for summer use by the townspeople. Then, as now, the canyon was a favorite picnic spot.

The Golden Giant, which was known locally as the “Gopher,” was a good producer. It was called the “Old Family Lode” during the ’60’s and ’70’s because it could be depended upon to furnish gold to the populace. Even today, after the rains Chelela, Loretto and Epifanio Cuebas find gold in the vicinity of the dump. Often when easy gold became scarce a claim was abandoned and open to relocation. A seventeen year old boy who had run away from his home in Texas wandered into town one day. He watched the miners washing gold and followed them to the store where the gold was weighed. The storekeeper became interested in the boy and let him have a prospector’s pick and gold pan. Each day the boy brought in a few colors and one day appeared with some fair sized nuggets. Upon investigation it was found that the ground adjoining the Gopher was open to location. The boy filed on the claim and went to work in earnest. One day a stranger came by and after watching him clean up at the end of the day, offered him $8,000.00 for his claim. The boy took it and went home with his fortune.

Boys went to work when they were fourteen. A man with his boys would work a property digging, timbering and hoisting the dirt from the shaft with a windlass and bucket. The ore was carefully sorted and any rock showing free gold was ground in a hand mortar. The results varied. Sometimes they would make but $10.00 a day but at others the man would carry $200.00 worth of gold home in his lunch pail. After a man had taken nearly $300.00 from the surface of the Mountain View he decided that was all and sold the claim for $10.00 to a Mr. Demorest. From his assessment work he realized $390.00 and that justified development work. In a short time he netted $20,000.00 and made more by selling while the showing was good. That was the surest way of making money and many operators followed that principle.

The three Dimmick brothers had homesteaded on Whiskey Creek in the late ’80’s. One day Clint was driving in the cows, he picked up a stone to throw at a laggard. The weight surprised him so he took out his knife to chip at it and found it to be native silver. It took many months to locate its source. Then in 1892 work was begun on the mine which they called the Silver Cell and a smelter was erected nearby. The native silver occurred in “chimneys” and when one was struck it was a bonanza—otherwise the mine yielded little, although it was worked for years.

It was not until 1883 that outside capital was sought. Then began a period of expansion with up-to-date equipment. Trolius Stephens and Nathaniel Bell interested a group of Californians and with them formed the Pinos Altos Mining Co., which was known locally as “Bell and Stephens”. The company acquired many of the mines, did development work and had them patented. The old Place and Johnson mill was repaired, increased to 15 stamp capacity with a first class concentrator, installed scales and built a tramway to the top of the mill where ore was dumped into bins and fed to the stamps. The camp not only hummed with activity but it pulsated with the steady pounding of the stamps. Every independent operator and lesser companies went to work with fresh enthusiasm from the 101 mill at the foot of the Big Hill to the Atlantic, from the Mountain Key to the Mammoth, from the Gopher to the old Skillicorn mill. If a necessary shutdown occurred at night the silence awakened all sleepers in the neighborhood.

Mr. George Hearst, who had cattle interests in the Southwest, heard of the mines and sent a young mining engineer, Benjamin B. Thayer, to investigate. He made a thorough examination and survey of all property and recommended the purchase as a good investment. Mr. Hearst died about this time and it was feared a sale would not be made. It was in May, 1896, that Mr. Bell took the result of one run of the mill into Silver City and displayed eight gold bricks in a pyramid a foot high, weighing 109½ pounds troy weight, and valued at $20,367.00. It was good advertising. Bell and Stephens wanted to sell and the Hearst heirs were interested. On August 10, 1897, the papers were signed transferring most of the Pinos Altos mining district and property within the town to Mrs. Phoebe Hearst, who signed for the Hearst interests.

The new company concentrated on the Pacific Group, but other mines were worked also—the Ohio, Mogul, Mina Grande. A smelter was built below Silver City to treat the ores, hauled there in mule drawn wagons. Articles of incorporation for a narrow gauge railroad, linking Silver City, Pinos Altos and Mogollon had been filed as early as 1889 and some preliminary surveys and grading done, then the venture was dropped. The Hearst Interests realized the advantage of such a road and began preparations to build a road connecting smelter and mines. A boarding and rooming house managed by Mr. and Mrs. Charles Fox, was built on the flat below the mines to accommodate the workers on the railroad as well as many miners who daily walked or rode over the mountain to their work. Many cabins were built around the boarding house and it became quite a settlement. To get a supply of water the company bought a ranch at the cienega above Fort Bayard and piped the water from there to a reservoir at the foot of Rocky Point, then it was pumped to another in the gap between Baldback (where the police radio station is now), and the Pinos Altos Mountains. From there the water flowed by gravity to the mines and to the camp just below. When the government enlarged the Fort Bayard Reservation all the watershed was included and ranchers had to relinquish their water rights and sell.

The Hearst Company sold to the Comanche Mining and Smelting Co. in February, 1906. The Comanche continued work at the mines and built the long-talked-of narrow gauge. The smelter was the Silver City terminal and from there the road wound for 23 miles around hills, across bridges and up steep grades, rising about 3,000 feet to the crest. Machinery and supplies were hauled to the mines and ore taken to the smelter. James Roberts was the engineer. As an attraction at a Fourth of July celebration in Silver City an excursion over the road was featured. The ore cars were filled with merry makers who were truly thrilled by the ride. A short time later a party of inspectors visited the mines, coming up on the train. Going back to Silver City the brakes failed on a steep grade. The loaded train hurtled down the mountain, failed to make a bridge on a curve, and piled up in a gulch. One man was killed and Mr. Roberts was seriously injured. Thereafter only the crew was allowed to ride. The road was extended from the mines into town. The Keptwoman was to be the station. All work was completed but the bridge across Bear Creek. The panic of 1907 caused a slump and the Comanche became bankrupt. The locomotives and the ore cars were salvaged and the rest of the narrow gauge was sold as junk.

The Mammoth property was leased in the early 1900’s to a Connecticut concern. A great deal of money was spent for which there was little return. However, the Waterburys did enliven the town. Besides repairing and enlarging the mill, digging wells along Bear Creek and installing pumps, and constructing a large reservoir, the old adobe house was enlarged, a screen porch added and used as a living room, and water piped into the house for Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Waterbury, their associates and guests. Mrs. Waterbury and her sister, Miss Hall, were close relatives of Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt, but Pinos Altos was unaware of Mrs. Roosevelt in those days. Lawrence Waterbury was in charge of the property and tried to get as much satisfaction and pleasure out of his duties as he did from his polo playing back home. He brought the first automobile into Grant County and whenever he chugged into a town a crowd surrounded him and the car. In those days men wore long linen dusters and goggles when motoring and the women covered their large hats with fluttering chiffon veils. Mrs. Waterbury and Miss Hall did not hide their beautiful clothes under unbecoming dusters, for which the women of the town were grateful. Even little girls copied the dresses for their dolls. Although the activity at the Mammoth was of short duration the Waterburys left a strong imprint on the people of the town. They began to screen the porches and to figure out means of piping water into the homes. The women were more fashion conscious and the men began to save for an automobile.

The Comanche was succeeded by the Savannah Copper Company and there was another spurt of activity. Many of the mines were leased to individuals and the company worked only the Pacific and Hearst groups. Corrigan, McKinney Company of Cleveland with mining interests in Mexico wanted sulphides as a flux for the ores there. They leased the Hearst and employed many men. Jimmy Corrigan was technically in charge but he was too much of a playboy to take his work seriously. He delighted the boys by buying baseball equipment and playing ball with them, often in the street, and if a ball went through a window Jimmy would send a boy with a five or ten dollar bill to pay for the damage. Mothers with marriageable daughters tried to attract his interest for it wasn’t everyday that a personable young man with $40,000,000.00 was a member of the community. Jimmy gave big parties with guests from the surrounding area as well as the town. He was having fun while keeping one eye on the mining game. That was going in a satisfactory manner until the revolution in Mexico resulted in the Terrazas property being confiscated and a fire in the mine here caused the company to cease operations.

The greatest mining excitement of the past fifty years occurred in 1911-1914 when Ira Wright and James Bell leased the Pacific Mines and struck high grade. For 1800 pounds of the ore they received $43,000.00. This was said to be the richest shipment per pound received at the mint in San Francisco up to that time. The values, gold, silver and copper, in the ore extracted and shipped to the smelter more than paid expenses. There is irony in the story of the rich strike. The miners were aware of it first and quietly and expertly did some high grading. No work was done on Sundays but everything was locked up. However, as William Swiekert said, “A lock keeps honest people out.” Mr. Wright was told that gold was getting away from him. One Sunday afternoon, he, Jim Bell and a party slipped up to the mine. They found that some miners had apparently worked all night and perhaps up to the time when a look-out had warned them of the party leaving town. More ore had been shot down than could be carried away. Some large pieces were left outside the shaft. For years, at night one could sometimes hear the grinding of hand mortars. Presumably some Bell-Wright ore had been brought out of hiding when money was needed. It was estimated that the miners got as much gold as the operators. Mr. Wright wanted to build an electro-static mill, and as Jim Bell was not interested in that venture, he withdrew and I. J. Stauber took his place. No more large pockets were found and the lease was not renewed.

Other men, believing that rich ores were still in the mines, worked them for a short time, in a small way with varying degrees of success. J. T. Janes believed that the Hardscrabble could be a big producer and over a period of years convinced others to the extent that they would put money into the property. Mr. Janes’ stories were far richer and more colorful than anything that came out of the mine. Perhaps the rich ore is there, as it is said to be in the Gopher, the Hearst and the Mountain Key. Mr. W. C. Porterfield had a gigantic scheme for locating ore bodies. Through his efforts money was raised to finance a company to tunnel Pinos Altos Mountain as an exploratory measure, cutting across the many veins which would reveal the most advantageous places to sink a shaft. Work was started but World War I interfered with that project. The Calumet Co. built a mill south of town but never ran more than 700 tons of ore through it. The Hazard and the Keptwoman attracted operators; the first proved that it was well named and the second showed that its name was a misnomer. During the depression men flocked to Bear Creek until the

## scene must have resembled early days. There were seventy or more crude

rockers being used by men trying to eke out an existence by placering. Tom Crowe used more modern and efficient methods on his claims at the mouth of Little Cherry and on Cottonwood Flat. Douglas White also operated a dredge and sluices down the creek.

The largest nugget ever found, so far as is known, was picked up by Fernando Cuebas in Santo Domingo. It was as large as a hen’s egg and contained very little quartz. It was sold to Mr. J. L. Rollins, then of St. Louis, as a specimen for the sum of $200.00.

The Cleveland Group was owned and operated by George H. Utter for a number of years. Although they are in the Pinos Altos district they were not regarded as “belonging” since most of the laborers and supplies came from Silver City and the ore was taken there over a mule-powered railroad. Many families lived at the Cleveland and at one time the camp had its own school. Of late years the scarcity of water has led to the use of dry washers which supply a topic of conversation, if little more. Water and gold may give out but hope never does. Men and women still prospect. Mr. Richard Allen, who wrote a history of Pinos Altos, published by The Silver City Enterprise in 1889, estimated that $3,000,000.00 in gold had been produced, and he predicted that that much a year beginning with 1890 would come from the mines. The Bureau of Mines’ Bulletin No. 5, states that: “Over $8,000,000.00 worth of gold, silver, zinc, lead and copper has been produced in the Pinos Altos mining district.” Much of the gold produced probably never reached the government’s great safe-deposit box at Fort Knox, Ky., but what did is but an infinitesimal fraction of the $19,000,000,000 worth, about one-half the world’s gold, hoarded there. If there is gold permeating the rocky Pinos Altos hills, and, of course, there is, it is as safely buried as that at Fort Knox.

During the years 1947-1949 the U.S.S.R. Co. conducted an explorative project, the object of which was to investigate the possibility of lead and zinc ores at a greater depth than earlier work had revealed. At that time the company drilled 28 diamond drill holes in the Pinos Altos district aggregating 21,000 feet. The holes range in depth from less than 100 feet to nearly 2,000 feet. Since 1949 the company has done a limited amount of work, mostly as assessment work to hold the claims on the eastern edge near the Atlantic and on another group in the vicinity of Pinos Altos Mountain. Many of these claims have since been patented. The exploratory work revealed ore at the depth of 500 feet which can be mined when the need arises. This may mean that Pinos Altos will again be an active mining community, producing lead and zinc, with gold and silver recovered as a bonus.

The Family

There was a time when asking a person in the West where he was from was a shooting matter. Visitors today have no hesitancy about asking that or about how long one has lived here or what brought one here in the first place. Is it more eccentric to spend one’s life here than in a small hamlet in Vermont or elsewhere? Lack of initiative or drive may be

## partly responsible and surely sentiment is. Some of us just love the

home place.

My father, W. E. Watson, came west for his health at the age of nineteen. Friends in Wisconsin had recommended Silver City and had given him letters to Mr. Pat Rose and Mrs. Lettie B. Morrill. Among the first people he met was Mr. A. J. Spaulding, and for several years they were closely associated. They made Claremont, near the later town of Mogollon, their headquarters for many prospecting expeditions. This was during the days of Indian raids but they never encountered an unfriendly Indian. Once when Mr. Spaulding had gone into Silver City for supplies and was expected back that evening, Dad hiked over the mountains to Whitewater and caught a mess of trout. He had returned to the cabin when a rider came up calling out that the Indians were on the warpath and were in the mountains and that all the people were to go to Meaders on the Frisco River for safety’s sake. Dad said he was expecting Spaulding so would not leave. He took his binoculars and scanned the hillsides. A movement far up on the canyon wall caught his eye. He watched the brush intently and presently made out the figure of a man, the queerest he had ever seen, more startling than an Indian even. Surmounting the pack on the man’s back was a large rectangular contrivance, attached to his belt were many packets, in one hand he carried a gun and in the other a butterfly net. Dad went to meet him. This was the beginning of an interesting friendship with H. H. Rusby, a botanist who was looking for medicinal herbs for Parke Davis Co. of Detroit and also collecting specimens of flora and fauna. Mr. Rusby had seen no Indian sign, nor had Mr. Spaulding, who returned later that evening. They were not molested but the next day they learned that Capt. Cooley had been killed not many miles from their cabin.

My father’s parents were English. His father was born at Littleport, Cambridgeshire. He worked with his father, who was a bridge builder, from age 14 until he came to America in 1848. He lived in Chicago for one year, then joined in the Gold Rush the following year and traveled overland to California and tried his luck at Placerville. After two years of varying success he returned to New York and crossed the ocean to his old home. In 1853 he was married to Miss Sarah Wilson of Spaulding, in the Ely Cathedral. They came to Chicago, later moving to Janesville, Wisconsin, where as contractor and builder, especially of bridges for the Chicago and Northwestern Railroad, he was quite prominent.

On Mother’s side of the family one of the earliest ancestors in this country was Pieter, son of Claes, who came from Holland to New Amsterdam in 1636. Very few of the Dutch emigrants had surnames—they were merely “sons of”. Pieter was later identified in the records as Peiter Claesen, who in 1655, superintended the bowery and cattle of Peter Stuyvestant. The entry in colonial records dated July 10, 1655, reads: “Pieter Clausen agreed to fodder and winter, according to custom, all the cattle which Petrus Steuyvestant has at present in his bowery at Amersfoot (Flatlands), also to sow all the land that is suitable for sowing, provided that he deduct from the rent the grain sown thereon. For said service the sum of 325 gr(?) be paid; to leave the manure of his own and the general’s in the bowery.” He was magistrate of Flatlands from 1655 to 1664. When Peter Stuyvestant surrendered New Netherland to the British, Pieter Claesen was required to take another name or to adopt a surname and he chose “Wykhof” which meant “Household Courtier” or “Clerk of the Court,” but the family soon changed to the English spelling of Wyckoff.

Little is known of the Robbins line except that great grandfather Wyckoff Robbins was born in Ohio, married and moved to Missouri. One son, my grandfather, Edwin Augustus, married Betsy Hartwell in Bowen, Illinois, in 1869. The Hartwells had come from England to Massachusetts in 1636. Later one of the family had married a French Huguenot named Dee in New Jersey, whose family had settled first in North Carolina. Betsy’s mother was that Dee. Her father, John N. Hartwell, married three times and had fourteen children, an economic necessity in those days. One of them lost his life in the War Between the States. John N. was a close friend of young Abraham Lincoln in Illinois, and always supported and admired him. One of Grandmother’s stories recalled the day she was sent into the field where her father was plowing to tell him of Lincoln’s death. They returned to the house and her father prepared for his journey to Springfield where he went to “pay his list respects to a great man and his good friend.” Grandfather Robbins had spent nearly two years in Andersonville Prison during the war. Ill and discouraged, he did not want to settle down with his family. Then he met Betsy, fell in love, married her, worked as a carpenter and made a home in Quincy, Illinois. He was restless so they decided to take advantage of the Homestead Act of 1862 and find land for themselves in the West as other discharged soldiers were doing. They went to Missouri, Colorado, and finally to New Mexico. Farming did not appeal to Grandfather but the lure and adventure of mining did. However, he found that his trade of carpentry furnished a better living than the mining game. After several years in Silver City he came to Pinos Altos as chief carpenter at the Deep Down where a St. Louis syndicate was building a mill. It was here that Mother rejoined her family and met Will E. Watson whom she married in 1889.

Like most American families we are a hodge podge of nationalities. Members have been farmers and traveling salesmen, doctors and ministers, missionaries and teachers. Dad tried many things but settled for the mercantile business. He was “store-keeper” and Postmaster in Pinos Altos for many years where he worked early and late to accommodate customers, but he was never so busy that he could not take time off for fishing and hunting and enjoying the great out-of-doors.

TODAY