Chapter Nineteenth.

CANALLING OPERATIONS--UNSUCCESSFUL EXPERIMENTS--COFFEE MILLS AND GOLD WASHERS--FORMATION OF BARS--GOLD REMOVED FROM THE MOUNTAINS DURING THE RAINY SEASON--SNOW ON THE MOUNTAINS, AND ITS DISSOLUTION--RISE AND FALL OF THE RIVER--STOCK SPECULATIONS--QUICKSILVER MACHINES--SEPARATION OF GOLD AND QUICKSILVER--INDIVIDUAL ENTERPRISE--INCENTIVES TO EXERTION--EXPENSES.

To give the reader a more definite idea of the success attending mining, I will detail the result of the different operations in the vicinity of my place of business, commencing one mile above and extending four below; this is said to be as rich as the same extent on any river in the country. The Manhattan Bar was canalled and dammed by the Manhattan Co., being a party of New Yorkers, including Gen. Winchester and brother. After expending a large amount in turning the water from the bed of the river, they purchased several quicksilver machines at one thousand dollars each, and immediately put them in motion. It required but few days to convince them of the failure that must attend the enterprise; the machines did not collect enough to pay the men who worked them, and they were immediately abandoned for the common rocker, which, in their turn, were abandoned together with the entire work.

The next in order was the Vigilance Bar; here a large amount of money was expended, and almost the entire summer devoted to the construction of a dam and canal, all of which, proved an entire loss to the parties concerned; they did not get enough to pay for the provisions consumed during the construction of the work. In the immediate vicinity of this was the Union Bar; a still greater amount in money and labor was expended here, but, as in the case of the Vigilance Co., it proved a total failure. In these two cases, sixty men had spent the entire summer in hard labor, and now were obliged to encounter the rainy season, many of them in debt, and but few with sufficient means to buy a month’s provisions. In the latter company were several young Philadelphians, sons of the first men of that city; an adventurous spirit had induced them to leave their homes, and they were now encountering the _realities_ of active life. Lacy’s Bar was next in order; there were many rich private leads in the vicinity of this bar, and it contained within its bounds many rich deposits. Soon after the completion of the canal the bar was offered for sale--a _fire_ or _flood_ at St. Louis making the proprietors’ return to the States imperative. I was unable to learn whether said fire or flood above-mentioned had actually transpired or was merely in anticipation, nor am I prepared to name the _precise_ amount of _net profits_ made by the purchasers of the above bar. Next is the Mormon Bar; the details as well as the result of this enterprise have been heretofore given. The next is Kentucky Bar; this undertaking paid to each stockholder seven hundred dollars, which was good wages. Next was Neptune’s, commonly known as “dead man’s bar,” the body of a miner having been found upon it; this bar was worked by sailors, and was the most productive in the country. It was said by those concerned, that they generally took out one pound ($200) per day to the man. The rainy season, however, destroyed their works before they had accumulated fortunes. The next bar was small, and without a name; operations here were unsuccessful, and soon abandoned.

The next bar I will name Woodworth’s Bar; when I visited it three men were working a machine made by a Mr. Woodworth, of New York city; its construction was somewhat on the plan of, and much resembled, a large sized coffee-mill. For mining purposes the coffee-mill would have been decidedly preferable. Fortunately for miners but few of the machines made in the States ever found their way into the mineral regions; this being the only one I saw during my stay in the country. Immense numbers were shipped, and arrived in the bay of San Francisco; but, being pronounced entirely worthless, they were thrown overboard, not worth even the lighterage. This bar also proved a failure. The next below was Lehigh Bar; this was canalled, and immediately abandoned as worthless. Then came Little and Great Horse-Shoe Bars, neither of which paid for the labor bestowed upon them. Not to mention the small intervening bars, I will pass on and mention, lastly, Smith’s Bar; this was one of the most gigantic works undertaken on the river. During its progress the feelings of those concerned were of the most sanguine character; in digging the canal they frequently came upon rich deposits, which would throw all into a phrensy of excitement, and some realized small fortunes by selling out during the progress of the work: after the completion of the work machines were put in operation, and all were expecting to reap golden harvests; some of the machines produced most bountifully, and others almost nothing. A few days convinced them that, as a party, they could not make wages, and the result was similar to those mentioned above.

In all the bars mentioned there were points of extreme richness. The calculations of those engaged in canalling were based upon a false, though somewhat plausible theory; the margin being rich, they very naturally came to the conclusion that the bed of the river must be much more so. It appears, however, that gold _does not_ settle in the channel, but is borne along until some abrupt bend in the river checks the current, when it settles, together with the stone and earth, forming bars, which have been described in a former chapter. It is understood that these bars are formed during the rainy season. Torrents rush down the mountains, and on reaching the stream unite in bearing along the precious freight. It may seem strange that the current can convey gold to any considerable distance; it is nevertheless true, and it may seem less strange to one who has known the river to rise from twenty to thirty feet in as many hours. In such freshets the _natural_ channel has no influence, the torrents claiming for their boundaries the mountains that tower up on either side. What is rain in the moderately elevated regions, is snow as you advance higher up into the mountains. This causes a long season of high water. The snow does not dissolve during the rainy season, the sun being obscured--but at its cessation torrents rush down the side of the mountains, and, not infrequently, huge masses of snow, as if impatient of their slow dissolution, will break loose from their fastenings, and with a terrific sweep dash into the chasm below. At this season of the year the rise and fall of the rivers are as uniform as the tides.

As the sun approaches the meridian, streams become swollen, frequently rising several feet, and fall as it disappears behind the mountains. It ceases to rain about the first of March, but in consequence of the immense quantities of snow on the mountains, streams do not resume their natural channels until the first of July, at which time, deposits made during the flood are found, as a general thing, above water-mark. One cause and perhaps the main one, of the almost universal failure of canalling operations is, that the facilities attained do not counterbalance the enormous expenditures requisite. Another difficulty is that a company of thirty men cannot, in the mines, operate with the same economy of time that they can when working in pairs. As I had lost on my stock in the Mormon Bar I determined to make it up by buying in the balance, which I did at from ten to fifteen dollars per share, and eventually sold it at several hundred per cent. advance to a company designing to operate upon it with quicksilver machines. Gen. Winchester & Co. became joint owners, and soon several of the machines were in successful operation, propelled by water drawn from the canal. The success of the experiment was placed beyond a doubt. The machines used were called the “Burk rocker.” They were placed on an inclined plane, and in the upper riffles, which were of iron, was placed a quantity of quicksilver. Dirt was thrown in at the upper end of the machines, and as it was washed through, the rocking motion would bring it in contact with the quicksilver, which having a strong affinity for the gold, carefully collects it without including any other substance. After the quicksilver has taken up, or freighted itself to its utmost capacity, and become a solid mass, or amalgam, it is taken out and its place supplied.

In separating the gold and quicksilver the amalgam is put into a retort, to the top of which is screwed a crooked iron tube, the end passing into a vessel of water. A heat is raised under the retort of six hundred degrees, which causes the quicksilver to evaporate and pass up into the tube, when it condenses and passes down into the water. This operation is performed at a loss of only two and a half per cent. of the quicksilver. These machines were purchased at a cost of one thousand dollars each, although in the States they are worth less than forty. Their

[Illustration: G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. OF G. W. LEWIS 111 NASSAU ST. N. Y. WHITE OAK SPRING.]

operation was very successful, and had it not been for the early deluge would have made fortunes for their owners.

The result attending individual enterprise was similar to that of canalling, with the exception that in the former case heavy debts were not contracted, and the individual, if he had not a fortune in his pocket, felt that what he earned was his own. I had a good opportunity to learn the daily proceeds of each man’s labor, my scale being at their service and almost universally used. I could name one hundred individuals, take them in order as they were operating along the river, and not more than ten of the number had, at the commencement of the rainy season, sufficient means to purchase provisions for the winter. They had labored hard; to-day, opening a lead; to-morrow, getting out an ounce; and the day after prospecting. They had been all summer just on the eve of making a rich discovery and a fortune, the prospect was always bright and cheering, the prize just, almost, within the grasp--to-morrow--never more distant than to-morrow. The lead is open to-day, to-morrow the reward, that to-morrow dawned to comparatively few. It is _still_ about to dawn, and sought with the same enthusiasm. Could the miners have pocketed all they took from the earth, few, perhaps, would have had reason to complain, but the attending expenses were so great that it was almost impossible to live and keep anything in the purse. They would eat up at night what they had earned during the day, consequently the proceeds of labor passed immediately into the hands of those in trade.

Chapter Twentieth.

COMMOTION IN THE POLITICAL ELEMENTS--CALIFORNIA A STATE--SLAVERY PROHIBITED--POLITICAL CAMPAIGN, AND THE RAINY SEASON--SPEECH OF A WOULD-BE-GOVERNOR--ENTHUSIASM AND BRANDY--ELECTION DISTRICTS--BALLOT-BOXES AND UMBRELLAS--MINERS IN A TRANSITION STATE--PREPARATIONS FOR THE RAINY SEASON--PRIMITIVE HABITATIONS--TRADE IMPROVING--ADVENT OF THE RAINY SEASON--ITS TERRIFIC EFFECTS--RAPID RISE OF THE RIVER--MACHINES DESTROYED--ARRIVALS--MY STORE AND BED--A BUSINESS SUIT--DISTRESSING GROANS--THE BOTTLE A CONSOLATION--SEVERAL STRANGE SPECIMENS OF HUMANITY COOKING BREAKFAST--THE SCURVY--A DEATH.

We now, for the first time, had a commotion in the political elements, which resulted in erecting California into a State and placing her, the “bright particular star,” in this glorious constellation. An election was ordered, and delegates selected to draft a Constitution for the State. They met at Monterey, and after a few days’ deliberation passed upon the Constitution which is hereunto annexed, and which was eventually ratified by an almost unanimous vote of the people. The greatest unanimity prevailed at the Convention, the deliberations conducted with the utmost dignity, each seeming desirous to act for the best interests of the country. The clause prohibiting slavery, or involuntary servitude, passed by a unanimous vote, although many of the delegates were interested in slave property in the States. The nominations were made for State officers, and, although party lines were not strictly drawn, every preparation was made for a vigorous campaign.

The election was to take place on the 15th day of November, and by the time the nominees were ready to take the “stump,” the rainy season was upon us. Just picture to your imagination a would-be-governor, in a slouched India rubber hat, a _poncho_, and high boots, standing near a tent on the side of the mountain holding forth to a highly patriotic audience of six, the rain pouring down in torrents. Nothing could dampen the ardor of the speaker; he had enlisted in the cause of the dear people, and nothing could induce him to swerve from the performance of his duty. The gist of his remarks was as follows:--“Fellow citizens, you _have rights to protect_. [Hurrah! Three cheers and two drinks of brandy.] _I’ll spend my last breath in the vindication of those rights._ [Three more!!] The mineral lands ought to be given to the people. [Three times three!!! Three cheers and six drinks.] _Have not the sovereign people made this country what it is?_ [Yes! Yes!! and great cheering.] If I am elected I will use my influence to have this immense tract of country, now claimed by Sutter, divided among the people.” [Immense sensation and cheering.] After order was again restored, the speaker was invited to step out of the puddle of water that had dripped from his _poncho_, and take something to drink. The meeting was conducted with _much spirit_, and resulted in securing the votes of a majority present for the would-be-Governor.

At this time, this district of country, called the Minerva district, had become so populous that municipal officers had been elected, and now it was regularly divided into election districts, and arrangements made to open polls wherever it was deemed necessary. The qualification for an elector was to be an American citizen. The most prominent candidates for Governor were Judge Burnett, H. S. Sherwood and Rodman M. Price, of whom the former was elected. On the day of election the ballots were deposited in a hat, over which one of the inspectors held an umbrella.

The middle of October finds the miners in a transition state. There has not a drop of rain fallen during the entire summer, and the earth, six feet below, is as dry as on the surface; one cannot move without being enveloped in dust; and vegetation is as crisp as if it had just been taken from the oven. There has been no haze to shield the earth from the sun, and at night the stars have twinkled with unwonted brilliancy; but now the sun has grown dim and pale, and the stars have fled to their hiding-place. Miners are admonished that it is time to prepare for an untried winter, and on every hand is evinced a disposition not to be taken unawares. Here on the side of the mountain is a habitation, three logs high, covered with canvas, the crevices well “mudded,” all the light used being admitted through the door. There is a cave, walled and roofed with rocks, the canvas closing the entrance being the only indication that it is a tenement. An army tent is also seen, which is well secured, as if in momentary expectation of the approaching blast; dirt has been thrown well over the foot, to prevent the winds from searching out the occupant. In front is a tree, under which is a camp-kettle and frying-pan, and near are a few dying embers, the smoke curling up and mingling with the foliage. It seemed hard that one accustomed to the luxury of a comfortable home, should be doomed to spend the winter in this forlorn condition. Climbing up the side of the mountain, are seen mules heavily laden with provisions and mining utensils, which are destined to some favorite spot in the mountain gorges. Trade begins to improve, miners are laying in their supplies for the winter, and merchants find their stocks exhausted, and are driven to town to replenish. The sun assumes a peculiar color, and where it is reflected in the water is a “royal” purple. Its rays had become very dim, and on the 27th of October the deluge burst upon us.

General Winchester and company had just placed their quicksilver machine, and commenced successful operations on the bar, but one night destroyed their works, carrying one of their machines, laden with twenty-five pounds of quicksilver, a distance of three miles, destroying it, and emptying its valuable contents into the river. The rise of the river was so rapid that those on the opposite side, when it commenced to rain, found it impossible to recross six hours after. The scene was most terrific; the mountain on either side of the river, rose almost perpendicularly, and the torrents rushed down, undermining huge rocks, which, after making a few leaps, would come in contact with others of equal dimensions, when both, with one terrific bound, would dash into the chasm below.

Mining operations were, for the time, suspended, and miners, many of whom were destitute of even the protection of a tent, were hovering about their fires in a most desponding mood; many were entirely destitute of means, and cooking, perhaps, their last day’s supply. Teams were constantly arriving with miners fresh from the States, who would descend the mountain

[Illustration: G. V. COOPER DEL. ON STONE BY J. CAMERON LITH. of G. W. LEWIS III NASSAU ST. N. Y. LOOKING DOWN THE BIG CANON.]

with high hopes, having been so fortunate as to fall in with some one who had directed them to this particular spot. They were generally well supplied with provisions, and notwithstanding the drenching rain, one hour after their advent would find them busily engaged with the pan and pick-axe.

The store I occupied was made by driving stakes into the ground, and inclosing with common unbleached muslin; the roof flat, covered with the same material. It had answered a good purpose during the summer, but for the rainy season, I am not prepared to say it was exactly the thing. I do not know that the rain fell faster inside than out, but some of my neighbors insinuated that it did. I could keep tolerably dry by wearing an India rubber cap, _poncho_, and long boots, with the aid of a good umbrella, in short, this was my regular business suit. For a bed, I had a scaffold made of poles, on which I had a hammock stuffed with grass and straw, using a pair of blankets as covering. In order to keep my bed dry I had a standard at the head and foot, on which was a pole running “fore and aft,” serving as a ridge-pole, over which was thrown an India rubber blanket. On going to bed I would throw up one corner of my India rubber blanket, holding my umbrella over the opening, and after taking off my boots, I would crawl in feet first, throw back the rubber to its place, then tying my umbrella to the head standard I was in bed. My friends, Fairchild, Tracy, Jones, and Dean were not so fortunate. They would lay down on the ground in their blankets, and in one hour would be drenched to the skin; in this condition they were obliged to spend the balance of the night. Jones (formerly of the Cornucopia, New York) had a severe cough, his lungs being much affected, and he thought he was fast declining with the consumption. After becoming drenched and chilled his cough would set in, which, together with his distressing groans, would render night hideous, and cast a gloom over the most buoyant spirit. On rising in the morning, the bottle was our first consolation; it would elevate our spirits, and drive the chilly sensation from our limbs. A few large sticks had been thrown together and set on fire, around which would be seen a dozen strange-looking specimens of humanity, one with a red flannel shirt, part of a glazed cap, and torn unmentionables; another with a woolen-blanket, that could boast of having secured, on the previous night, what rain had fallen in its immediate vicinity; another with an India rubber _poncho_ and a hat that had been used both sides out, and, as if to assume a ferocious appearance, it had adopted the color of the grizzly bear. All hovering around the fire, some with pieces of pork on the ends of sticks, others with something in a frying-pan, covered with a tin plate; one is stirring flour and water together, while his companion is trying to turn the cakes; about every other one is disposed to go into the fire.

A disease at this time manifested itself, the symptoms of which were of a peculiar nature. It was called the “land scurvy,” and was caused by a want of proper vegetable diet. The blood of the system became thick and turgid, and diminished in quantity; there was but little circulation at the extremities, or near the surface of the body, the fleshy parts becoming almost lifeless; the gums became black and not unfrequently the teeth would fall out, the gums having so entirely wasted away. The malady became fearfully prevalent, and no remedy could be obtained; vegetables were not to had, there were none in the country. There had been a few, a very few, potatoes in the market, at prices varying from four shillings each to a dollar and a half per pound, but the supply was too scanty to arrest the disease, and many had become almost entirely disabled.

On the 28th of October, a man from Illinois fell a victim to this dreadful malady, and on the 29th, it was our painful duty to bear him to that lonely hill and consign him to the tomb. A board was placed at his head, on which was cut his brief epitaph. What a strange commentary upon the vicissitudes of human life. He was once an infant, fondled and caressed by an affectionate mother, a youth counseled by a doting father, and embraced and loved by sisters and brothers. He grew to manhood, pledged his hand and heart to the one he loved, combatted, perhaps, with adversity, and finally bade farewell to his own offspring, to die a stranger in a strange land.